Exhumation: An Epic of Existentia (Acts of the Sojourner Book 1)

by S. A. Chapman

  “Very true. I wish I could lay my hands on the traitorous fiends responsible for this,” said Frederich, scanning the area.

  “We will,” said Pious, patting the elderly Frederich on the back.

  The sounds of the Sledge Cannons erupted once more, pounding violently through the air as the Fury–Drums of the Attaran War Ensemble joined in chorus. The ground rumbled with each shot.

  Three Qulin appeared before the three men, Winged Sentinels atop – and stopped not far from Pious. “Great, another message, I take it – what good news do you bring this time?” said Frederich sarcastically, with a smile.

  “Commander, Prefect, Colonel… the Army of the Plains is massed at the Eastern Gate. An Envoy from Karajan seeks refuge for them within our walls. They offer their arms in our defence, in exchange for mutual solace,” said the Sentinel, trying forcefully to settle his rowdy Qulin.

  “If they will aid us, let them in,” said Frederich.

  “Are you sure?” asked Aldrich, somewhat confused and concerned by Frederich’s ease of acceptance.

  “If the enemy already outnumber us within our walls, what difference do a few more make?” replied Frederich, looking at Pious.

  “I have faith in the folk of Karajan – they are a good people,” said Pious.

  “Still – they are Harshlanders. It may be a ruse, Frederich,” said Aldrich.

  “We really have nothing to lose, Aldrich. If they will aid us in the evacuation, send their Envoy to me… to speak terms in the Eastern Dome,” replied Frederich.

  “Inform Captain Helatros he has my order to let them in,” said Aldrich to the Sentinel, pointing towards the east.

  “Sir!” replied the runner, and the three Qulin turned and hurried off into the darkness.

  The group turned and marched together towards the Eastern Dome. “They do say that the Tenebraen festivities are prone to getting out of control,” said Pious, laughing under his breath as Frederich and Aldrich chuckled to themselves.

  The Eastern Cardinal Dome

  “The Free City of Karajan – The Palisade of Sails – is nestled in the Lakefields, the low-lying heart of the Elysian Plains. It is home to a mix of all races who seek a new life, redemption and freedom of thought,”

  Extract from “Grinding Gears of an Aged Crank”,

  Lothar Desgauliers, Tribunal Magister.

  159th Cycle of Purity.

  As Pious entered the Dome, he spotted Valerus and Rasstun carrying in a wounded soldier on a stretcher and placing him on the ground.

  Tyr, R’Argh and many others were sliding some crates along the ground to the Corridor of the Magistratum – provisions being moved from the Operarium in preparation for the evacuation.

  “Valerus! Tyr!” shouted Pious, as he hurried towards the centre of the Dome. Valerus, Rasstun, Tyr and R’Argh ran towards Pious in excited expectation.

  “What happened?” asked Valerus,

  “They asked us to surrender,” said Pious, with a smile.

  “And?” replied Rasstun.

  “Long story short… Magister Leonis said he was going to cut off her head,” said Pious.

  “That a boy!” shouted Tyr, clapping his hands together.

  “We mentioned the approaching Shaydean Navy – they didn’t seem too pleased to hear the news, let alone be aware of it,” said Pious.

  “Like I said, the Reclamation Army invasion probably wasn’t sanctioned by the Alliance,” said Valerus. He looked to Pious. “So, what now?” he asked, as Frederich joined the group.

  “We still retreat,” said Frederich.

  “We split here,” said Pious. “Sound the word to everyone, to further spread the word that we are to head to Landsbeach. We will split and head to where we discussed earlier. We are all to meet again here to move to Landsbeach; or at the worst, if the enemy have breached the wall, we will meet at Landsbeach.”

  Pious held his hand out in front of him. “Honour, Valour and Pride,” he said, looking at each of the men around him.

  “Honour, Valour and Pride,” replied the men, placing their hands into the middle. R’Argh stepped forward and placed his hand in as well, and then they all dropped their hands.

  Valerus placed his hand on a soldier’s shoulder. “You – send word to the men to rally at the Western Cardinal Dome,” he said, as he pushed the soldier towards the exit.

  “Sir!” Replied the soldier as he sprinted towards the Dome’s exit.

  “Let’s go!” shouted Valerus, his voice carrying through the Dome as he raised his hand in the air. Then he and Aldrich, with a small team they had assembled, ran off towards the Western Cardinal Dome.

  “Let’s move!” said Tyr to R’Argh, and they turned and headed towards the Northern Cardinal Dome.

  “How are we going to inform everyone? It will be impossible,” said Pious, as he watched Tyr and R’Argh disappear into the Corridor of the Magistratum.

  “If everyone hasn’t emerged from their hidey–holes within Sanctum, I would be surprised. We have managed to move quite a lot out already,” replied Frederich, pointing to a slow, trickling stream of folk coming from Sanctum and leaving through the entrance.

  At that moment, screams and shouting came from outside the Dome. Everyone turned their heads towards the entrance, and Pious spotted a Kazieri scribe running into the Dome with a look of sheer horror on her face and her hands flailing in distress.

  “They have breached the Curtain! They are in the Fosse!” she screamed.

  Frederich stared at the woman, almost in a daze. “How the–?” he muttered to himself. “The Fosse is too deep to get into the forecourt…”

  A man fitted in the black, silver–adorned armour of an Authoritor Tribune, charged past the scribe, with a patrol of Authoritor Centurions and a Militia patrol in pursuit. “To the doors! Guard the entrances!” shouted the man, as he climbed atop the edge of the aqueduct's stonework and began directing the movements of the Militia. The man's face was familiar to Pious: He was Maxir Vincis, the Authoritor Tribune of the 18th Curtain Gate.

  “Maxir!” shouted Pious as he pushed to the front of the crowd.

  “Pious! I thought you were–” yelled the Tribune, before cutting himself short and shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now. The bastards have broken into the Fosse.”

  “That’s impossible,” replied one of the Militia, picking up a sword and shield from a crate of arms.

  “With those Sledge Cannons, it’s not,” replied a patrolman who had turned his head as he collected a shield and spear. “Everyone assumed they were restructuring them to fit through the gates. I bet they restructured them to blast an entry into the viaduct.”

  “The water levels in the Fosse… I should have seen this. They dammed it so they could break into it,” said Pious, shaking his head, before looking back to Maxir and asking, “What about you, Maxir? What happened to the Authoritor?”

  “A fucking coup… that is what happened,” replied Maxir, shaking his head in disbelief and brushing his hair out of his face. “It came out of nowhere; there wasn’t even any time to think. One moment I was talking to a Centurion, the next moment they pulled their weapons on us – those damned hot-headed Serum soaked assholes. We told them to go fuck themselves and drew our own weapons – despite being outnumbered. If it wasn’t for the Winged Sentinels, my men and I could have been really done over,”

  “Well – It is good to see that you are still alive, Maxir. I am sure that your experience will be readily welcomed,” said Pious, slapping him on the shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you again too, Pious… but you look terrible, my friend,” said Maxir, pointing at Pious’s face.

  “I’ve been better,” agreed Pious with a smile, rubbing his dirty, stubble-covered face. He looked around the Dome and saw many Magisters huddled together, exiting the corridor to the Magistratum. He noticed Magister Ropert guiding some young children. As soon as he saw Ropert, two things instantly came to mind – Lothar and Jacq. Pious ran to Ropert.<
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  “Greetings, Magister Ropert,” said Pious he stopped alongside him.

  “Hello, Pious,” replied Ropert, stopping briefly and nudging the children onwards.

  “Have you seen Magister Lothar?” asked Pious, as he looked at the stream of young Pages moving into the Eastern Cardinal Dome. “Or Jacq?”

  “Magister Lothar was here aiding us earlier, with Jacq. Lothar went to the Library and Archives, and Jacq went with him. He was talking about a problem with some shipment that had arrived,” replied Ropert.

  “Thank you, Ropert,” said Pious, before he was distracted by yet another Winged Sentinel sprinting into the Dome, bearing a report.

  “Commander!” called the Sentinel. Pious ran towards Frederich and stopped next to him, just as the Sentinel marched towards Frederich. Following behind the Sentinel were six fierce–looking and heavily armed warriors, all except one sporting long beards, and with plaid sashes around their waists – each one of a different colour. They all had heavy leather baldrics, which lay atop their hardened leather armour. Affixed to their baldrics were an assortment of tools, along with several spring-powered bolt–blast muskets.

  “Commander… an Envoy from Karajan,” said the Sentinel, presenting one of the men, who had a metallic, nine-pointed Envoy’s star pinned to his baldric.

  Frederich walked towards the six warriors, as Pious and Maxir ran to join him.

  “I greet you with gratitude and the Prevailing Wind,” said the Envoy. He and the other five warriors knelt on one knee, bowing their heads with their fists to their foreheads, before rising again. Unlike the rest of his troupe, the Envoy hard dark brown and leathery skin – revealing his age and Tharlugian descent, complemented by his Tharlugian head wrapping, resting around his neck.

  “As do we. I am Proxy–Commander Magister Leonis,” said Frederich. He held out his hand to the Envoy, who shook it in response.

  “Pious Argentum,” said Pious, as he held out his hand, which the Envoy shook and held.

  “Prime Prefect, Pious Argentum?” asked the Envoy, looking at Pious with curiosity. “Prefect of the 1st Ultimus Legion?”

  “Not exactly,” said Pious, as he let go the Envoy’s hand.

  “I am Trakus Reynella, Captain of the Silver–Sail and Envoy of Karajan,” stated the Envoy. “These men are the Captains of the Stormkeep, the Saltfish, the Hailbearer and the Tomahawk – this lady is the Captain of the Firetail,” said Trakus, as he pointed to each one of the warriors behind him, in succession from left to right. Each of them put their right fist to their forehead and bowed their head slightly as Trakus introduced them.

  “I guess your little blockade is finished, Captain?” said Frederich, with a smile.

  “I’ll have you know, Commander, that our blockade isn’t over – it is postponed. I remind those of Sanctuary that our issue is not with Sanctuary or the Concordat – it is with the Union and their profiteering,” said Trakus.

  “I think it is safe to say, we care not for trade or politics right now, Captain. What are you doing here? Can you give us a report?” asked Pious, looking back at him with expectation.

  “We broke our blockade when we saw the entire Union Army, with their Pneumechanised Battalions at the forefront, marching towards us. We retreated to the southern gate, seeking to make their approach known,” replied Trakus, looking around the inside of the Dome. “So, this is what it looks like inside this thing….?” he muttered to himself.

  “And?” asked Frederich, distracting Trakus, who looked back at him with a wry smile.

  “Your southern gate turned us away – and fired a few warning bolts to make sure we left. We tried to warn them of the Union’s approach, but they would not listen,” said Trakus, pointing towards the Dome's exit. “As the Union Army closed in, we retreated to the east, and you know the rest from there.”

  “Have you any idea why the Union would defect? It makes no sense!”

  “Only the winds know that answer – but I do know why seven of the twelve Earlgraves decided to break from the March Confederacy and follow not far behind the Union.”

  “What? What do you mean they broke from the Confederacy?”

  “Well – two of the seven have tried to blockade Karajan, aiming to convince us to join them. They dared not raise conflict though.”

  “You didn't answer the question – what do you mean they broke from the Confederacy?” Pious probed further, pushing for an answer,

  Trakus’s weather-beaten lips pursed into a smirk. “They believe they have proof that it was Sanctuary, all along, who had been abducting their children,”

  “What? That is just propaganda spread by the Alliance,” snapped Frederich in defence.

  “Well whatever proof it is that they have – they trust it enough to follow the Union in assaulting your walls,” said Trakus as he huffed to himself and looked at Pious. Trakus placed his hand on the handle of his mighty looking three–bladed Boarding–Axe and stood tall. “Regardless, the Forward Contingent of the Free Army of the Plains are within your walls and at your disposal!”

  Pious turned at the sound of a shriek from behind him. He saw a Cleric of Labour pointing at the woman in the company of Reynella – in particular, at the Naetherhammer by her side.

  “You… You bring such heretics into our Sanctum? You defile our sanctity!” screamed the Cleric with maddened fury, shaking his finger at the woman. “All – avert your eyes, you will be defiled!” he shouted, as several people turned the other way in fear, diverting their gazes elsewhere.

  The stocky, hardy–looking woman was dressed in the same Karajan attire as her comrades, but her Naetherhammer and other Hexen hunting equipment revealed she was, in fact, one of the Hexenjaeger. She smiled slightly, staring at the Cleric and shaking her head in dissatisfaction.

  “Captain Mallea’s services are extremely valuable, Cleric,” replied Trakus, with rage. “Hexen roam our lands seeking coin and treasure – Wind-Talkers, Favour-Weavers, Storm-Callers – all things you are safe from in this fortress of Delusion!”

  “Will someone get him out of here!” shouted Frederich, pointing to the Cleric, who was thrashing wildly in distress. “We don’t have time for this dribble,” muttered Frederich to himself.

  “Remove her!” shouted the Cleric repeatedly, as some Militia dragged him away.

  “Captain Reynella – will you help us maintain a clear passage of retreat to the Eastern Gate?” asked Pious.

  “We can – well, we can try. Where are you intending to go?” asked Trakus.

  “Landsbeach,” replied Frederich.

  Trakus laughed and pointed at Frederich. “Are you kidding me? Even if all the Astral Barges in the Rift were to turn up at the same time, there is no way near enough capacity to take you all!” Trakus stopped laughing and tried to regain his composure when he realised Frederich was serious.

  “Well, what choice do we have, but to hold our own there?” replied Frederich, with a look of frustration.

  “If you help us break the blockade of the Fordsmark and Baymark Earlgraves, we will hold you at Karajan. All are welcome. I am sure we will need all the help we can get too,” said Trakus.

  “Thank you, we may need to take you up on that offer,” replied Frederich. Pious nodded his head with a smile, as a small creature running past his feet towards the Corridor of the Magistratum caught his attention.

  “A Clamberer? That's weird,” said Pious, as he stared at the small bipedal amphibious fish running into the distance.

  Captain Mallea stepped forward and grabbed Trakus, turning him on the spot. She made a series of hand gestures to Trakus, who started to look concerned.

  “Are you sure?” said Trakus. She nodded in response and placed her Hexensight mask over her face, then walked towards the entrance to the aqueduct and took her shield from her back, holding it to her front. She grabbed her Soulhammer from her waist belt and began pushing its sparking module so that it ignited in a flash of white light. As the light dissipated, a transp
arent and colourless fire burned around the hammerhead, causing a visual distortion and casting a strong light.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” shouted Frederich, looking on in confusion at the motionless woman, staring stalwartly into the aqueduct tunnel and knee–deep in still water.

  “Answer me!” Frederich shouted in frustration, as he began to walk towards her.

  Trakus put his arm out, gesturing for Frederich to stop. “She cannot answer you,” he replied patiently.

  “Why not, damn you?”

  “She had her tongue cut out when she was caught by the Hexen’Darq – to stop her uttering Calls and Dispersions.”

  A look of surprise covered Frederich’s face. “Wait – she actually is a Hexenjaeger?” said Frederich as he stared at the woman.

  “She is – one of the last few remaining.”

  “Look, Captain Mallea said that warriors are coming – possessed by dark concoctions of the Hexen’Darq. They are in those tunnels,” said Trakus, pointing to the aqueduct. “I would listen to her if I were you.”

  “Possessed by the what?” asked Frederich.

  “The Malignus, the Whisperers – or whatever nonsense you decide to call them.”

  Captain Mallea stood still and stalwart as several Clamberers ran out of the aqueduct tunnel, skimming across the top of the water and scattering throughout the Dome.

  “That’s strange,” said Maxir, staring at the stream of Clamberers running from the tunnel, spreading throughout the Dome and running about frantically among the people.

  Suddenly the ground rumbled with the force of an explosion elsewhere within the Sanctum, the sound ripping through the structure with a blast of air. A surge of air blasted past Captain Mallea, carrying the loose parts of her garments in its wake. All within the Dome stared towards the Corridor of the Operarium.

  The other Karajaners unfastened their Boarding–Axes and held them at the ready as they unholstered their bolt–blasters with their off hands.