Pious looked at the ground. Valerus stepped alongside Pious and placed his hand on his shoulder.
“You should be proud, Prefect. They fought valiantly,” said Percival quietly.
Pious looked up from the floor at Percival. “They died with Valour – and Charity; don’t let it be in vain. You recover well, Percival… for vengeance,” said Pious. He patted the man on the shoulder.
Pious turned his head toward Rasstun. “They must have amassed under the darkness of Tenebrae – or somehow trekked across one of the passes through the Jagged Ranges.”
“No, sir,” said Percival, grabbing Pious on the leg to get his attention. “They made land at the Breach.”
“The Breach? How so?” asked Pious, intrigued.
“Once we rappelled down the western wall and scouted our way along the coastline, we found Timberslane untouched, with no trace of enemy forces. We followed the light haze in the Tenebraen fog, which led us to Pinespeak. It was at Pinespeak that we found the enemy forces.”
Percival stopped and coughed, his punctured lung wheezing under his laboured breathing.
“Our analysis concludes that they crossed the Hydraen in sixteen massive amphibious Siege warships, which they lifted to the top of the Breach. Each one could have easily contained at least one thousand men. They used the newly–cut path through the forest to reach Sanctuary,” concluded Percival, and let out a fatigued sigh.
“Those bastards at Pinespeak must have known of this attack for cycles. Only they can operate the cranes at the Breach,” said Tyr.
“Not to mention that trade route south they have been pushing for,” said Valerus.
“The Machinists also carried their mobile Faekteri across the Hydraen,” said Percival. “They've used them to set up a forward base at Pinespeak, tearing down the forest to produce innumerable spears for their Meteor launchers – and bolts for the Sunspheres. We were caught trying to enter the 22nd District Curtain. That was when the Vigilants – already weakened from the fatal poisons they had ingested – opened the portcullis and charged the enemy.”
Having finished, Percival lowered his head. His head jolted, then slumped in exhaustion, as he fell asleep once again.
“Good work, Lieutenant. Make it through this, and I will welcome you into the Praetorian ranks myself,” said Pious, rubbing Percival’s head. “Rasstun,” he said, “do what you can to evacuate these people to safety. If their numbers are as great as he says they are, it may be best to move them now, while we still can.”
“Of course,” said Rasstun.
Pious noticed a red–dressed Eir walking past him. His face lit up with excitement, and he instantly looked to her face – but as much as he wished it, she wasn’t Serana.
“One moment,” said Pious. He stood and walked towards the Eir. She had crouched next to a wounded soldier and was inspecting his wounds.
“Excuse me, Eir,” said Pious, interrupting the young Cherish as she tended to the wounds of the incapacitated soldier.
She turned her head and looked at Pious. “Yes?” she replied quietly, trying not to disturb the wounded young man.
“Do you know where Eir Serana Parabellum is?” he asked. He wanted her to say, ‘over there!’ or indicate somewhere within reach, or at the least tell him that she was safe.
“Yes. She has headed to Landsbeach with the 1st Authoritor Cohort. They left some time ago,” replied the Eir, and returned her focus to the wounds of the soldier.
Pious was moderately happy with her response. At least Serana was somewhat safer at Landsbeach than in Sanctuary – he had a feeling he would be meeting her there soon anyway. If Quistin was there, she would be well protected. Quistin knew how much Serana meant to Pious.
“Thank you,” said Pious. He turned and walked over to Sincerus and placed his hand on Sincerus’s shoulder. “Change of plans. Head to Landsbeach.”
“What? Why?” asked Sincerus, confused. Pious turned and walked towards Frederich, as Sincerus – still confused – didn’t move.
“Magister Leonis, what forces do we have available to us?” asked Pious.
“Militia of the East and South Gate Districts. The South Gate District Militia are bolstering our forces in the Sanctum. The East Gate Districts are defending against the possible ingress of the forces from the north and protecting the eastern gate, which now seems like our safest way out,” said Frederich.
“Magister Leonis, I would like to send a Cohort, or at least a few Sector Guard, to Landsbeach to reinforce the Landsbeach Defence Force. We saw Redemption's Glory moving there earlier,” Pious informed him.
“You don’t need to ask me for permission, Pious,” replied Frederich, as he placed his hand on Pious’s shoulder. Pious nodded to Frederich in thanks and returned to Sincerus.
“Sincerus, move to Landsbeach. Gather a Cohort – take them with you,” Sincerus stared back at him in confusion. Pious took a step closer, and placed his head next to that of Sincerus, placing his mouth next to his ear. “Serana is at Landsbeach,” he whispered. “Make sure your sister is safe. We will be there soon.”
Sincerus nodded, and then they both were distracted by someone yelling outside.
A man ran into the Dome. “Commander!” yelled the man, searching for Frederich.
“Here!” shouted Frederich, raising his hand in the air as he hurried towards the runner.
The runner stopped in front of Frederich and took a deep breath. “The Union Army is laying siege to the Southern Gate,” said the runner.
“The what?” snapped Frederich.
“The Union Army, sir,” repeated the runner, holding his hands on his knees, catching his breath.
Frederich let out a shout and slammed his armoured fist on a stone balustrade. The sound of steel on stone echoed throughout the Dome.
“This Pass hastily turns to complete madness!” shouted Frederich, as he banged his gauntlet against the stone again. “Have we no friends?” he continued.
“Why would the Union attack us? Do you think they have defected – sided with the Alliance?” asked Aldrich.
“Aldrich – I don’t know, my old friend. I don’t think I know much anymore,” replied Frederich, staring at the multicoloured light, cast by a lodestone in a stained–glass cover.
“Wait…,” said Pious, looking at Aldrich with the squinted eyes of deep thought. “I thought you had a report that said the Free Army of the Plains were at the southern gate.”
“That’s right. That was my latest report,” replied Aldrich.
“That doesn’t make any sense – where did the Free Army go?” replied Pious.
Rasstun took a step forward and raised his hand. “Maybe they are routing to the Eastern Gate – too risky to head west,” said Rasstun as he smiled at the group. “I believe it can be one of two things: either they are involved with this assault, and are moving to the Eastern Gate to besiege it – or, they aren’t involved with this assault, but have re-routed after becoming aware of their long-term enemies, the Union of Merchants, approaching the Southern Gate.”
Frederich gripped the stone balustrade and banged his hand against it yet again as he let out a sigh. “Sound the retreat. Sound it now. Send a message throughout Sanctum and the loyal districts that all are to retreat to Landsbeach immediately.”
“Are you sure, Magister? It is a pivotal and extreme decision,” said Pious, looking at Frederich with sincerity.
“We have a forward defence there, the Landsbeach Defence Force. It will make an excellent starting point – and we can at least hold there while we seek aid from Serica. Or at the least, a retreat of the women and the young to Serica,” replied Frederich.
“Magister Leonis – we won’t last long at Landsbeach if any one of those armies decides to attack,” said Tyr.
“Tribune Parabellum,” Frederich said, “if they break through while we are still here, we are trapped and at their mercy like Saltfish in a barrel – ready for snacking. If we stay here – we might as well walk to the dunge
ons ourselves now, or fall on our own blades – because the same choice of fates will come to us later, but on the terms of someone else. On the other hand, if we leave now, we have a chance to spare countless lives that would be spilt through unnecessary bloodshed – and a chance to fight and defend ourselves at another time and place, on our own terms.”
“I suppose you are right – it just feels like we are running away,” replied Tyr.
“We are running away,” said Frederich. “But what is more important, Tyr? Sanctuary – lifeless steel and stone – or your life?”
“I would put my life on the line to defend Sanctuary,” replied Tyr, with a grin of pride.
“See – that is why I am making this decision. Because your life – and the lives of people with the same courage and fighting spirit – are more important to me than anything else. It is my decision. If someone shall bear a coward's crown forevermore, it shall be me.”
Pious stepped up to stand alongside Frederich. “What about the defences – what if we can manage to activate them?”
“Don’t you see, Pious? Three of our exits have been blocked, blocked with coordination. We have one exit left, and we had best take it now – before it is too late.”
“We may still have a chance, Commander,” said Pious, respectfully.
“No – the only chance we have is to evacuate. We have been sold out, Pious. It is obvious that we have been betrayed from within. Sabotaged defences, poisoned Vigilants and a wide-open Northern Stately Gate.”
Frederich bashed his steel covered hands together. “If it is Sanctuary they want, it is Sanctuary they shall have. But I will not have those who wish to defend her spilling their blood in vain defence of a fallen post,” he said, with the utmost of passion.
Pious nodded in approval – he understood Magister Leonis. There was no point anyone else dying in vain, and if one hundred thousand did truly cross the Hydraen, it would certainly be in vain. “We will need to head to Serica, to request assistance from the Red Empress. Only she can help us now.”
“Who knows Pious, the way events have turned out thus far – I would not be surprised if she isn’t already on her way here to join in the assault,” said Frederich. “I am going to order the other Domes to rally through here, and then we will try and move together to the east,” said Frederich.
Frederich pointed at the runner, who was still patiently awaiting a reply. Frederich opened his mouth to bark an order but was interrupted by someone repeatedly shouting ‘Commander’ from outside the Dome.
The Sanctum Forecourt
“A large and deep ring of water, known as the Sanctum Fosse, is the water supply of Sanctuary. It is fed from the southern stream of the Evergreen, which flows across the Border Bridge and enters into Sanctuary through a series of drains and pipework at the northern outer wall of Sanctuary.”
A facsimile of various notes from the recovered journals of Lan’Tsa Nichon regarding the structure of Sanctuary,
Qan’Fu Ensan, Imperial Archivist.
1114th Revolution of the Grand Míngxīng.
A Winged Sentinel pushed passed the runner who had brought the news of the southern gate siege.
“Commander,” said the Sentinel, and saluted Magister Leonis. “The Field Marshal of the Reclamation Army has come bearing a White Banner of Terms – and wishes to speak to the Commander of our forces.”
Frederich looked at Pious and laughed, then back at the soldier.
“This should be interesting. Where is he?” asked Frederich, placing his hands on his hips.
“She, Commander. She is at the 1st District Curtain Gate,” replied the Sentinel. Frederich chuckled to himself.
“Then let us go and see her,” said Frederich. He gestured for Pious to join him. Pious nodded and turned to his friends.
Sincerus sat alongside K’Reorh on the stone balustrade, showing him the ornate Dirk belonging to a Cherish wearing the sky–blue dress of the Ayldar Order, who stood beside them. She was explaining the concepts of the secret script of the Reckoners on the blade, to the curious Scythian.
B’Sayan held the balustrade, while he inspected the wounded men and women in the infirmary, shaking his head. He wasn’t used to this many people, nor was he used to being away from the warmth of his hearth. His longing for his wife was revealed in his demeanour.
Valerus, Aldrich and Rasstun were inspecting a makeshift map of Sanctuary, with different coloured small stones marking the friendly and enemy forces.
Tyr was showing R’Argh how to use a war–mace, lifting it overhead with a smile of pleasure on his face and pretending to bring it down onto the skull of an imaginary intruder; R’Argh laughed as he watched.
“Sincerus!” shouted Pious. Sincerus returned the dirk to the Ayldar, stood up and went to join Pious, with K’Reorh following him.
Sincerus stopped in front of Pious, and Pious placed his right arm on Sincerus's shoulder. “You should get moving to Landsbeach – forge a path and keep it open,” said Pious, then looked towards B’Sayan. “B’Sayan!” he shouted, as B’Sayan slowly made his way alongside K’Reorh. “I think you should head to Landsbeach as well. The Scythians will be better suited, with you there.”
“Are you sure?” asked B’Sayan, looking somewhat confused as he pointed at Pious. “Are you telling me, I came all the way here with you musky and smelly smoothskins – only for you to tell me now to turn around and go home?”
“Of course. It looks like we will be retreating anyway – you can make sure we get a good reception,” said Pious, with a slight smile.
Pious dropped his hand from Sincerus’s shoulder and looked at K’Reorh. “You should go, too, K’Reorh. We will meet you there.”
“Hunt Master – let me fight by your side,” replied K’Reorh with ferocity, taking a step towards Pious. “My spear arm is strong.” He thrust his spear into the air with enthusiasm and a show of strength.
Pious rubbed K’Reorh’s head, messing up his golden–red fur. “No – your duty is to your mother, your brother and your Clan, not to me. Go; we will meet again soon,” said Pious with authority.
B’Sayan turned to R’Argh, who stood with an axe on his shoulder next to Tyr, who held a war–mace at his side. “Are you coming?” asked B’Sayan.
“Not this time, Voivode,” replied R’Argh, as he punched Tyr in the arm. “I have to teach this smoothskin how to use an axe first.”
“Pious, come on,” said Frederich. He gestured for Aldrich to join them. “Aldrich, come with us.”
“Valerus, Rasstun, keep watch in here – will you?” asked Pious, looking at the two of them.
“Of course,” replied Valerus, nodding his head in agreement.
Pious turned to Sincerus, K’Reorh and B’Sayan. “Right. Well, this is it… keep safe,” he said and smiled at them before turning to Frederich. “Let’s go,” he said and headed towards the exit from the Dome. He stepped between Sincerus and K’Reorh and walked towards the exit with them. Both Pious and Sincerus saluted the Winged Sentinel, who reciprocated in response.
“These moments, my friends, are worth remembering,” said Pious as they exited the Dome and stood in the entryway.
Sincerus looked at Pious and nodded with a slight smile. “They will both be safe, Pious,” he said. Then he turned and ran down the steps and towards the east, with K’Reorh sprinting off in pursuit.
B’Sayan turned to Pious and put his furry hand out towards Pious. Pious smiled and shook B’Sayan’s hand.
“Good luck, Smoothskin – you had better show up, or B’Ast will kill me,” said B’Sayan. He dropped the grip and walked slowly down the steps.
Frederich exited the Dome and began to descend the steps, with Aldrich walking alongside him. Pious joined them as they walked past. The haunting music of the Attaran War Ensemble continued to carry through the cool, still air.
“I wonder what they could want?” asked Aldrich, glancing towards Frederich as they descended the steps. They stopped briefly, as Pious noticed
a Winged Sentinel atop his Qulin, holding the antler of another Qulin. Both Qulin were restless – but the Sentinel had them under the control of experience.
“I have no idea; nothing makes sense at the moment. There would be no sense in even trying to figure it out,” replied Frederich, as a Winged Sentinel descended from behind them and mounted the riderless Qulin.
“Prefect!” saluted both Sentinels. “We never thought that we would have the opportunity – but we want to thank you for saving our skins.”
“It wasn’t me who saved your skins – it was your dedication to the fulfilment of your duties. Commendable,” replied Pious.
“We will return to our patrols.”
“Wait – is Prefecta Lucretia Maris currently in command of the Winged Sentinels?” asked Pious.
“Yes, Prefect,” replied the Sentinel.
“Excellent – if you see her, tell her that her orders are to aid in the evacuation of Sanctum through the Eastern Gate. The Winged Sentinels are to scout the Loyal Districts, sounding the evacuation and aiding those who require it. Understood?”
“Of course, Prefect,” replied both Centurions. They nodded, turned their Qulin and charged into the distance.
Pious, Frederich and Aldrich meandered through the Forecourt on their way to the Northern Gate. The Militia had removed supplies from within the Sanctum and from the districts, making fortifications on the North and Western sides of the forecourt. They had managed to set up some makeshift defences, to repel an attack if it came through.
Many bonfires lit the way to the Curtain of the 1st District, surrounded by soldiers keeping warm in the cold. Pious could see the desperation on their faces and the bewilderment. Militia within the Curtain– it was bewildering to Pious, too.
Exhumation: An Epic of Existentia (Acts of the Sojourner Book 1) Page 27