“What captives?” asked Luras.
“There are others on the island as well. They freed a group of prisoners,” said Nelos.
“It's time,” said Captain Dowr.
“I'll see you below,” said Matthias. He took hold of a rope and began to lower himself to the sandbar.
The invasion had begun before Matthias and Luras touched down on the sandbar. The Acolytes had ceased their barrage of arrows and descended upon the island. They were met by armies of gorgons and Storm Wolves. They clashed along the shore and inland towards the ruins. Some of the Acolytes never reached the shore. They floated lifelessly in the water, pierced by gorgon arrows. Packs of Storm Wolves ran along the shoreline ripping and tearing at the Acolytes. The Acolytes continued to press forward. Some of them had fought before. They formed small squads and repelled the wolves and gorgons the best they could. The sounds of screaming, fighting, and dying filled the air. Wounded were already scattered throughout the island calling for help. Their cries were met by snarling teeth. A group of Acolytes stood upon the rubble of the village firing arrows at the wolves and gorgons charging the shoreline. The faint silver glow of Luras' skin had already begun to emanate a red hue. He drew his sabers, as he neared land. Matthias held his sword and shield ready for battle.
“Remember, stay close and keep your rage at bay,” said Matthias.
A pack of Storm Wolves ran the coastline devouring the wounded Acolytes. One of the wolves caught Luras in its sights, as Matthias and Luras left the water. It broke from the pack and ran towards him in a mad rage. It alternated between running on two legs and four. Two other wolves followed behind it. Luras did not charge the wolf. He stood motionless, both sabers in hand. The hulking beast snarled and breathed rapidly, as it barreled forward. It sprung into the air, lunging itself at Luras. Its claws were outstretched. Saliva poured from its jaws. Luras twisted to one side, while bringing one blade down. It severed the beast's arms. He followed by dragging the second blade across the wolf's exposed belly. It erupted in blood. The wolf cried out and fell to the sand. It jerked and convulsed. Luras brought down both blades, piercing the neck of the beast.
A second wolf leapt towards Luras. Matthias slammed his shield into the wolf's snout, crushing bone and teeth. The wolf whelped and snarled, as blood dripped from its mouth. Half its jagged teeth remained intact. The rest stuck in Matthias’ shield or fell to the ground. One of its eyes was already swelling shut from the blow. Matthias swung his sword cleaving the broken snout. The wolf ran but bled to death a few paces from them. The third wolf continued to charge towards them. Matthias put up his shield and braced himself. An arrow whistled past them and lodged behind the beast's shoulders. It rolled to the ground and snapped at the arrow, which was out of reach. A second arrow thudded into its throat. The wolf fell to the sand. It coughed and choked on its own blood. Matthias pierced the wolf’s chest with his blade. It died instantly. Matthias saw a squad of Acolytes continuing to fire arrows at the wolves and gorgons.
“Let's move inland,” said Matthias.
The island had erupted into turmoil. Matthias and Luras joined with the main wave of Acolytes. Gorgons and men were strewn across the island. Wolves continued to attack the Acolytes from all sides. There was no form to the battle. There was chaos from all sides. It was savagery at its purest. Gorgon armies charged from the cathedral. Their raw strength was overpowering. They could sever two men with the single swing of a blade. Shields could barely take one blow from a gorgon before splintering. Matthias considered the disarray.
These men have fought, but not in battle. We won’t last this way. They’re too strong. Historians … read about battles but they’ve never fought in one. We will lose. This is random butchery.
“Together!” cried Matthias. “Move together! Fight as one or die alone!”
“Move in!” yelled Luras.
The other Acolytes seemed to welcome a commanding voice on the field of battle. They fought and did their best to move into one unit.
“Shields in front! Three men deep! Archers behind! Guard our flanks with arrow and sword! No gorgon gets behind our lines! Stay together!” ordered Matthias.
This feels too natural. Instinctive. Damn them all for this.
Matthias and Luras fought their way towards the ruins alongside the other Acolytes. They continued to press forward as a formed unit. Men with shields took blows from the gorgons. Shields split knocking the men to the ground. Some did not get back up. Arrows were fired at will. Luras did not strike at the torso of the massive gorgon soldiers. Instead, he parried or dodged their blows. He followed digging his blades into their legs and thighs.
“Their legs! Their strength means nothing if they cannot stand!” yelled Luras.
Matthias felt his skin pull at his stitches with every blow. He used his shield both as a weapon and armor. He broke bones and spears as he slammed into the gorgons. He followed with long cleaves with his sword. Matthias had stood in a shield wall many times. He knew how to pivot his shield to break a spear shaft. This shield wall was not the best, but it would due. He made standing in front of him a very dangerous proposition. Gorgons fell around him. The Acolytes continued their press forward at a great cost. A trail of fallen men and gorgons was left with each push forward. Fallen Acolytes cried out in pain. Luras looked at the carnage around him. He moved towards a fallen Acolyte that had a jagged spear extending from his stomach. The man was crying as he held the spear shaft in his hands.
“Steel yourself, Luras. We haven't time for him now. We must keep moving forward or we will all die,” warned Matthias.
“Please!” the man pleaded in a whisper.
“Luras!” yelled Matthias.
“I’m sorry,” Luras said to the man, as he turned back to the fight.
It was the first time that Luras saw Matthias how the realms once knew him. A pragmatic commander that was bent on killing the enemy. His concern was the army and not the soldier. Violent men were needed in violent times. It was times of peace that were most dangerous to men like Matthias. He was comfortable in battle. He was at home.
Matthias could see the massive steps of the cathedral. His blonde hair was wet with sweat. Black blood coated his leather gloves and shield. The fight raged around him like a wildfire. The ringing sound of steel on steel mixed with the cries of men. It was almost deafening. He grabbed fallen men by the shoulder to help them back to their feet. If they could not rise, he let them stay. The Acolytes around him had finally fallen into a rhythm. They were pushing forward over the gorgons. These men were experienced fighters, but they were accustomed to small melees. They were beginning to understand the shield wall and fighting as a unit. It was still sloppy, but it was no longer a one-sided fight. Blood spilt on both sides.
The Acolytes stabbed and chopped at the gorgons legs. When they fell, they were encased in the wall like water wrapping a stone. The men inside cut down the wounded gorgons. Storm Wolves leapt over the shield wall, lashing out at the Acolytes inside. They raked their claws wildly over the men. Cries of pain caused the men in front to turn back. It gave the gorgons a chance to cut down the men in front.
“Stay forward!” yelled Matthias. “Do not break!”
The Acolytes hacked at the wolves. Luras saw that the other men had control of the wolves behind him. He continued to fight the gorgons. His skin radiated a deep red hue. He was angry but his rage seemed to hone his balance and strikes. The gorgons were strong but slow.
“When I say, open long enough for me to get through,” Luras said to the two Acolytes in front of him. They both held shields and were in the front of wall.
“You want into that mess?” asked one of the men.
“Just for a while,” replied Luras.
“Now,” said Luras.
The two men moved their shields apart long enough for Luras to move through. He held his sabers outstretched slicing two gorgons across the waist. The blades cut through leather opening their scales and spilling out all their sk
in held inside. Luras bent down as a gorgon’s spear struck over his head. He thrust both blades out front. They sliced the knees of two gorgons. They fell. The shield wall continued to move forward. It swallowed the fallen gorgons. Luras stood parrying strikes. He followed each one with an arch of sabers. They sliced any gorgon that stood close. Luras then fell back and let the shield wall move past him.
Matthias could see the cathedral.
We are winning.
A small figure in gray woolen clothes ran to the steps. It caught Matthias' attention. He backed up behind the other Acolytes to see what it was. The figure had a head of short blonde hair. It was a young boy. He ran up the steps and stopped. The boy momentarily turned around to look back at the battle. He appeared frightened by the fighting. Matthias’ gaze met the boy’s. He yelled out at Matthias, but the battle was too loud. It did not matter. Matthias knew the words the boy was yelling. He could see it in his eyes. Any father knows those words without hearing them. He was calling for help. The boy ran up the stairs and disappeared in the darkness of the cathedral. Matthias ran behind the men that were fighting. The shield wall continued to move forward. Luras saw Matthias running and followed.
“Matthias!” yelled Luras.
Matthias flanked the large mass of men and gorgons. He ran towards the broken steps of the cathedral. Luras followed behind.
“We are separating ourselves from the group,” yelled Luras.
“I saw him,” said Matthias. He was out of breath. “He ran inside.”
“Who?” asked Matthias.
“He saw me. He ran inside,” said Matthias.
“Who? Who did you see?” asked Luras.
“My son.”
Chapter 33
Dark Tyranny
The stairs to the cathedral were wide and long. They were deeply fractured and cracked. Some of the stones had long ago crumbled. The stairs led up to the front room of the cathedral. The roof was still whole over the room but the walls had gaping holes. The mortar had crumbled between the stones leaving splintered lines along the walls. They allowed the first rays of morning to cascade into the room. Golden beams of light crossed the room and illuminated the shadows. Dust floated through the shafts of light. A statue stood in the center of the room. It was another grandeur. However, this one was much larger than the one in the courtyard. It had no hair and its body was heavily muscled. Its strength did not appear stocky, but rather lean and agile. The green moss stones over its eyes had been heated and smoothed to a mirror like texture. The grandeur’s wings were outspread, as if it would soon take flight. Its chest and legs were covered in strips of bone. The base of the statue was constructed from moonstone. Skulls of men, dogs, and other animals were carved throughout the base. The grandeur looked to be standing victoriously over the bones of the world. A dark grime had begun to cover the base. It cloaked the statue in its grip.
The chaos of battle ensued outside the cathedral. Finn and the others entered the front room of the ruins at the onset of the fight. The room was empty, as the gorgon armies battled the Acolytes. They stood close to the walls, in order to not be seen by the gorgons or any enemies that may be guarding the ruins.
“Nephalis,” said Torin, as he pointed to the statue.
“Careful. The floor is crumbling,” said Finn.
“Do not let down your guard,” said Borman. “This place is not empty.”
“Stop,” said Ellison.
“What is it?” asked Finn.
“Do you not hear that?” asked Ellison.
“What do you hear,” asked Torin.
“Wolves.”
Looming shadows prowled along the walls outside. They blocked the beams of light as they passed. The shadows snarled and let out rumbling growls. Others approached and began to sniff and dig at the ground. Borman motioned for the group to slowly walk forward, leaving the room. Ellison started to move but felt his body growing hot. He began to lose control of his legs. Ellison fell to one knee and toppled over. The stone floor was cracked and coated in dust. It floated around him and stuck to his hair and clothes.
“Ellison,” whispered Finn. He reached down to help.
“No,” said Ellison. His heart beat rapidly.
“Those wolves will hear him,” said Torin.
“I'm not leaving him here,” declared Finn. “Help me move him.”
Borman and Finn grabbed Ellison by his arms. As they raised him, Finn could feel the muscles of Ellison's arm constrict and expand.
“Something is happening to him,” said Finn.
“Go,” said Ellison.
Snarling and howls were heard outside the room. They grew in number. The wolves ran by the walls causing the rays of light to flicker. They suddenly erupted into a rage. Wolves dug deeper at the walls, while others raced up the steps and into the front room of the cathedral. Their red eyes glowed in the shadows. Eight Storm Wolves entered the room. They stared at Finn and the others with hatred and madness. Saliva dripped from their jaws. The wolves’ teeth were stained with blood. Some of them stood on two legs, while others remained on all fours. They bared their teeth. The fur on their hides raised. Ellison fell to the ground with his hands over his stomach. Borman and Finn slowly notched arrows.
“Each one on target,” Borman said to Finn. “We will not get more than one shot.”
“I've the one on the far right,” said Finn.
“Middle,” replied Borman.
The wolf in the center darted forward charging at Finn. Borman let his arrow sail through the room. It crossed the shafts of light and dug into the wolf. It hit the wolf below the neck. The wolf cried out but continued to charge. Finn's arrow whistled through the room. It caught another wolf below the eye. The wolf grabbed at the arrow, breaking it off. Blood streamed down its face. The wolves ran at them. The first one ran on two legs. Borman's arrow still protruding from its neck. It lunged into the air exposing its claws and teeth. Borman braced himself and reached for his sword. Suddenly, a massive white Storm Wolf rose between them. It stood on two legs and breathed rapidly. Its hulking shoulders moved rhythmically with each breath. Its eyes were a dull red. They were full of anger. It struck the wolf before it hit Borman, sending it flying to the ground. The white wolf barreled into it, slicing and digging its claws into the other wolf's face and snout. There was a whimper and a snap. The white wolf turned back to the pack of wolves. It snarled and growled. Its white fur was already dampened with blood. The white wolf stared down at the other wolves. Its hulking frame rising and lowering with each breath. Borman notched another arrow and released. It sank into the chest of another wolf. Finn followed his lead. The white wolf sprang towards the pack. It raked its claws against one wolf, while sinking its jaws into another. The wolves charged the white wolf knocking it back. It rolled across the floor, slamming into the base of the statue. The white wolf rose, blood dripping from its teeth. It roared and snarled at the wolves. It charged through the wolves, knocking them aside. The white wolf kept running. It left the room and sprinted down the stairs of the cathedral. The other wolves shot after it with a mad rage.
“Go,” Borman said to the others.
“What of Ellison?” asked Finn.
“He took them with him, but they could return,” said Borman.
“This way,” said Torin.
Torin led Finn and Borman from the room. They ran down a short stone hallway. Large sections of the walls had fallen to the floor. They had to climb over the downed stones and jagged rocks. They entered the main hall of the cathedral. It was a tremendous oval shaped room. Half of the roof had fallen. Large sections of the domed ceiling laid in chunks along the stone floor. The fallen dome had crushed some of the chiseled columns that formed a circle around the center of the room. Altars were made from the stone work of the floor. Some of them were crumbling or broken. Rotten timber and rocks spilled over them. Gulls cried and flew over the exposed roof of the cathedral. The morning sun laid heavy rays of light through the tears in the ceiling. Gulls cr
ossed through them, as they landed upon the stones and exposed timber of the domed roof. Statues of grandeurs laced the round walls of the room. They were twenty feet high and were made to look down on the various altars on the floor. Gray stonework was erected in the center of the room. It was a large circle that looked like a massive well. Streams of swirling smoke drifted from it. There was a flicker of red and orange from below it. The colors laid their hues on the inside of the gray stones.
“Where are they?” said Finn, impatiently.
“They have to be close,” said Borman.
“They're not here?” said Finn, as he looked over the room. “Perhaps, they've moved them.”
“No. The entire purpose they brought them - the reason - would keep them in the ruins,” said Borman.
“There, that stonework is new,” said Torin, pointing to the gray stonework. “Smoke. Something is under the floor.”
Finn ran to the center of the room. There was a circle where the floor had been chipped away. Gray stonework had been built around it like a border to keep others from falling through the floor. Finn leaned against the stone and looked down. Smoke and heat enveloped his face. The heat burned his eyes. Below the floor was another room. Fire coated the floor of the room below. There were three small stone paths that went over the fire. They met in a circle in the middle. The fire seemed to spill over the stone paths in places, leaving steam and smoke in its wake. A black altar stood in the center of the circle. Two gorgons stood by it. They wore leather armor and carried spears. Their thickly scaled tails were coiled around one leg. Then, Finn saw the cages. Three charred metal cages were suspended from the ceiling. They hung directly over the fire. They were full of prisoners. Steam and smoke rose up from under them, heating the metal and those inside. They did not scream or cry out. They had the look of defeated resignation, as if their only hope was that they were not chosen next. Chains from the cages wound over pulleys from the ceiling. They connected to a wrought iron lever on the center landing. Finn's heart raced. He looked at the cages, but they were too full. The captives were packed too tightly together. He could not see everyone inside.
A Dark Tyranny Page 27