Death Flag

  “On your feet!” Madison roared as loudly as he could, wrenching his sword back and forth as he pried it free from the man’s body. “Death has come!” His sword broke free from the man’s gut with a horrible slurping noise, and Madison took a large step over the dead man’s body and started for the next closest person. He made it to the man just as he sat up in his bedroll, already reaching for his weapon on the ground beside him. Madison met him in stride, turning the great sword upright and swinging it like a baseball bat with both hands. The man’s head was directly at waist height as he sat up, and Madison’s sword cleaved into his neck, almost cleanly cutting it through. Blood frothed forth from the wound, spilling forward onto the man’s chest and spraying across the ground in front of him. Madison kicked the man in the chest, shoving the body back over and pulling his sword free at the same time.

  He turned around and brought his sword up just in time to block a man’s attack from his right side. It was the final of the three guards on that side of the cart, and he was the fastest to react out of any of them. The guard’s mace bounced off of Madison’s sword with the distinctive clang of steel on steel, and Madison automatically took a step to the side and then backed away from the man as he tried to get his bearings. He held his sword upright in front of him defensively with both hands in an effort to buy himself some time to figure out who he was fighting. Unfortunately, his maneuver cost him time instead and allowed his opponent to snatch up a small buckler that was lying at his feet.

  Now armed with a small metal buckler and a one-handed mace, the man inched forward as if testing Madison. He jumped forward a half-step, trying to bait Madison into attacking. When Madison didn’t, he repeated the maneuver several more times. “Not so brave when you have to fight someone who isn’t asleep, eh? What a coward.” The man spat to the side and grinned wickedly, hoisting the small shield up in front of him. “Come on, chicken. Let’s have at it then!”

  Madison caught sight of two men moving around him out of the corner of his eye, and two more moving in behind the man he was facing off against. They were likely going to try and get around behind him in an attempt to cut off his escape path and then hamstring him. He also knew that they were going to take him alive if they at all possibly could. He had already cost them one slave and two guards, and the price of his head at auction would be their repayment. It was only a small edge, but he was willing to take advantage of it while he could. Once they figured out that he wouldn’t go quietly and that they couldn’t subdue him, they’d switch to hyper-aggressive attacks aimed at killing him. Madison had to either finish the fight before then or find a way to escape if it came to that.

  The man lunged forward for real this time, swinging his buckler at Madison’s sword in an attempt to swat it out of the way. Madison dropped his sword down and allowed it to be pushed away rather than attempting to stop the man’s shield with brute force. He also stepped back a half-step as he did so, and the man’s mace came around in a semicircle, cutting through the air where Madison had been standing. Madison shoved his blade forward as soon as he saw the weapon cleave through the air in front of him, and he just narrowly sliced along the side of the man’s calf before he was forced to pull his sword back.

  The man’s knees buckled as the blade cut along his leg, but it wasn’t anything more serious than a deep scratch. It would be an annoyance to him in the days to come or if he tried to walk very far on it, but it wasn’t serious enough to put him on the ground. Madison pulled his sword back in front of him just in time to block a backhanded swing from the mace. The two weapons recoiled off one another again, and Madison felt something heavy snap across his shoulders. Pain shot up from where he had been struck, and he instinctively recoiled, squeezing his shoulder blades together. The man in front of him took advantage of the opening and struck out across his body with his shield, punching Madison across the jaw.

  Madison’s head was jerked around, and he saw a flash of stars as the blow connected. He staggered back, trying to put some distance between him and his opponent, but he wasn’t quick enough. The hard edge of the shield jabbed forward, catching him hard in the chest. Madison grunted as he dropped his hold on his sword with one hand and reached out with the other, grabbing the man’s forearm before he could jerk his shield away. Madison twisted to the side and jerked the man forward at the same time. The guard had been attacking across his body, leaving him off balance, so Madison needed far less strength than usual to move the large man. The guard stumbled forward, quickly trying to catch himself and pull away, but Madison wouldn’t allow it. He firmly held onto the man’s arm with his left hand and brought his sword around with the low, half-arc aimed at the man’s midsection. The slaver tried to turn away at the last instant, but the tip of Madison’s sword jabbed into his stomach.

  As soon as he felt the blade pierce into the man’s gut, Madison released his grip, turned around, and looked for his next closest opponent. He heard as much as he saw the tail end of the whip flash in front of his eyes, and he once again reeled backward, instinctively throwing up an arm to shield his eyes from the weapon. He felt his back ram into something hard, and a quick glance over his shoulder told him that he had stumbled into the side the of the wooden cart.

  He hoisted his sword up in front of him in a defensive posture once again and counted. The four men fanned out around him in a semicircle and slowly advanced. Two of them were carrying clubs and bucklers like the man Madison had just fought, one was wielding the whip, and another was carrying a short sword. Four against one was horrible odds under any circumstances, and these men were pissed. He couldn’t make out more than their dark shapes as they moved toward him, but he could hear them growling at him and muttering profanities under their breath. He might have caught them off guard initially, but they were fully awake and ready to fight now—and they weren’t going to let him go now that he had killed their friends.

  The guy with the whip pulled his hand back for another strike, and an arrow point suddenly burst forth from his neck. He made an awful gagging sound as he dropped the whip behind him and clutched at his throat, but it was useless. There was nothing anyone could do to save him. His friends reacted much quicker than Madison had imagined. They realized now that Madison wasn’t alone, and they quickly pulled together in a small knot so that they were standing back to back. It wasn’t going to do much good to save them from an arrow, but he highly doubted Warren would risk shooting again a second time. The fact that he had made such a precise shot in nearly total darkness was insane to begin with, and it was far too risky to repeat a second time. Madison just hoped that Warren knew that as well.

  Gripping his sword, Madison slowly inched away from the cart. There were only three men left now, but he wanted to end it before the others showed up. He didn’t mind risking himself, but the thought of one of the others getting hurt set him on edge.

  “Just give up!” he shouted to them. “We’ve got you surrounded!”

  “Go wank yourself!” one shouted back.

  “Who is we?” another asked loudly. “You and one archer? Who can’t see in the dark? He might have got ole’ Billy, but that was blind luck!”

  “Are you willing to risk that?” Madison called to them. “Are you willing to risk your lives on it?”

  “Go off yourself!” one shouted for a second time.

  Madison rolled his eyes and shook his head. He probably wouldn’t have given up if he were in their situation either, but that didn’t mean they were any less of an idiot for it. “Last chance,” he called, still edging forward.

  “Come on, maybe we should listen to him,” one said quietly.

  “And do what? Let him take us captive? Turn us into slaves? Forget it,” one growled.

  “Simmons will have our heads if he finds out we let our guard down,” the third said cautiously. “We’ll have to head east. There’ll be no staying around here if that happens.”

  “That’s right,” Madison answered, joining in on their conversation.
“I hear there are some lovely cities back east. Wouldn’t you like to live long enough to see them?”

  “It’s three on one,” the man with the sword growled. “Let’s just rush him and be done with it before that guy with the bow shoots again.”

  “N-no, I don’t think we should—”

  “Go!” the man roared, breaking away and charging at Madison.

  “Wrong choice!” Madison grunted, rushing forward to meet the man head-on. He held his sword out in front of him, as if he were going to use it to ward off the man’s attack, and at the last second, he turned away. Spinning around on his heel, Madison let his momentum carry him forward and past the swordsman, putting him safely out of the man’s reach. Madison’s sword came around in a high arc as he turned, slashing across the second man’s chest. No matter how willing he might have been to surrender or turn and run, his friend had guaranteed his death the moment he charged Madison.

  Madison lashed out with a kick as soon as his feet were planted, catching the man third man in the gut. He wasn’t fast enough to stop the man from attacking, however, and Madison caught the blow from his club in his shoulder. Both men reeled back from the impact of each other’s blows, but it was Madison who struck out again with a second swift kick, catching the man in the stomach for the second time. The man doubled over this time as the air was driven out of his stomach, and Madison leaned into the man with all of his weight and pushed off, shoving him over and onto the ground before he could recover.

  Then, at last, he turned back to the final guard.

  “Give up,” Madison warned one last time. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like giving the guy every opportunity to surrender was the right thing to do. He had absolutely no qualms about killing him or any other slave trader. There was a point, not too long ago, where he would have fallen apart over the concept of killing another living being. But he had been pushed beyond that point hard and fast by this world. He absolutely abhorred what they stood for, and he detested what they had done to him—what they had done to so many other people.

  The man held his sword up uncertainly, but he didn’t charge a second time. The fact that Madison had just killed five of his friends, incapacitated another, and was coming for him was apparently catching up with him. He turned about from side to side as if looking for somewhere to run, but Madison knew it was a waste of time. His back was up against the cart just as Madison’s had been moments ago, and unless he wanted to try jumping it, there was nothing he could do to save himself.

  “Damn you!” the man screamed, suddenly breaking and lunging to the left as he made a break for it.

  Madison was on his tail a moment later, but the man didn’t make it far. The final captive, who had remained curled up in a fetal ball at the end of the cart the entire time, finally reached out and grasped at his own freedom. He hurled himself at the slaver’s legs as the man rushed by, bringing the two of them down together in a rolling heap.

  “No!” Madison screamed.

  He tried to reach them in time, but it was too late. The slaver struck out blindly with his sword, slicing deeply into the man’s skull as he desperately scrambled to extricate himself from the pile. The captive instantly went limp, his weight falling forward onto the other man. Madison didn’t arrive in time to save the captive, but he was there before the guard could get his feet back under him. Madison landed a running kick into the man’s midsection, driving home the toe of his boot as hard as he could. The man grunted loudly and fell over onto his side, automatically trying to curl up into a ball in order to protect himself. He wildly swiped out at Madison’s ankles with his sword, but Madison was too fast. He jumped away from the blade and then retaliated by driving his own sword deep into the man’s side.

  Madison turned away from the man, leaving his sword embedded in the man’s side and him to die. He eyed the man on the other man to make sure that he was still on the ground where Madison had left him and then set about removing the chains from the two dead captives. Once he had stripped them of their shackles and chains, Madison stalked across the clearing.

  “Don’t,” Madison warned menacingly as he approached. “Just don’t do it.”

  The downed man looked up at him with sheer terror in his eyes as Madison approached. He quickly threw away the club he was holding and then did the same with his small shield. “Oh-okay,” he wheezed, a tremor in his voice. “Okay.”

  “Roll over,” Madison demanded. “On your stomach.”

  When the guard was slow to respond, Madison encouraged him by planting the toe of his boot into the man’s ribs. He didn’t use enough force to actually hurt him, but it was more than enough to let him know that that Madison wasn’t going to play around, even if he wasn’t going to kill him on the spot. The man quickly complied after that, flipping over and automatically pushing his wrists together at his lower back. Madison kneeled down over the man, driving his knee into the back of the man’s neck so that he wouldn’t be tempted to suddenly resist, and then shackled his wrists together. When he was finished, Madison grabbed the man by the shoulders and rolled the man over onto his back before pushing him upright into a sitting position.

  There was a rustle of leaves as the rest of his small crew emerged from the trees and made their way toward him. Aside from the one arrow from Warren, they had remained neutral throughout the entire fight. He was grateful for it on one hand, since he didn’t want to risk them getting injured unless he had to, but on the other, he had been outnumbered by an eight to one margin, and that was without even counting the slaves who were with them. He wouldn’t normally consider them as part of the numbers at all, but given that a captive had been responsible for his initial capture before and his discovery this time, it was hard not to. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the dying man with his sword planted in him and the slave who had lost his life stopping him from fleeing. No matter what he thought or how he wanted to count them, Madison had received help when needed it, and he was grateful for that.

  Erin was the first to arrive, and she immediately started poking at him like he was a paper doll. She gave him an inquisitive look but never actually spoke to ask the question she was attempting to answer on her own. She lifted his arms and spread his fingers and poked and prodded at his ribs and stomach. Madison winced as she poked at the spot on his sternum but tolerated it as passively as possible otherwise.

  “I’m fine,” he said reassuringly, resting his hand on her head like he would a small child. “Just a little banged up. I don’t think but one of them had an actual weapon, the rest were relying on clubs and shields and whips. They probably don’t have much use for real weapons.”

  Erin scoffed at his hand and swatted it away, but her impromptu examination and his words seem to satisfy her.

  “Come on, pay up!” Shayna insisted as they approached. “You can’t weasel your way out of this one!”

  “You know you lost, Warren,” Alyanna agreed. “It doesn’t count if you did it on your own.”

  Madison looked up and watched them approach and listened in on the exchange.

  “You lost, fair and square,” Shayna contended. “You knew you were going to lose, and that’s why you did it!”

  “I did not!” Warren protested. “I didn’t have a choice!”

  “Did what?” Madison asked, curious as to what they were talking about. “What did he do that he wasn’t supposed to do?”

  “We had a bet going,” Alyanna said, “on whether or not you would actually call for help.”

  “And he did!” Warren insisted. “What else was all that hubbub at the start about if not him calling for help?”

  “He said to wait for the signal,” Alyanna asserted. “You didn’t wait for the signal.”

  “If it wasn’t a signal, then what was that cheesy line when he got caught about? ‘Death has come for you! Whooo!’” Warren waved his hands in the air like he was imitating a bad impression of a ghost, clearly mocking Madison and bolstering his argument at the same time.


  “That was . . . That was clearly my lame attempt at intimidation,” Madison said with a laugh. “I knew they were all going to be half-asleep anyway, so what did it matter? I just wanted to put a bit of fear into them.”

  “You see?” Shayna declared. “You see?! So, you lost!”

  “You lost,” Alyanna echoed.

  “Just give it up, Warren,” Madison advised. “There’s no use arguing with either one of them, and both would be a death sentence. I don’t know what you were willing to bet, but you might as well get used to the idea that it isn’t yours anymore.”

  “Oh, come on,” Warren grumbled, a slight whine entering his voice. “Not you too!”

  Madison just shrugged and looked around the campsite. “I guess I could have used some help, but they weren’t really much of a challenge to be honest. What’s with you guys being so confident that you don’t feel the need to set guards?” Madison directed his question at his feet at the bound man that was still sitting there. “Are you guys suddenly so confident that you don’t feel the need to post sentries or keep watch?”

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered. “Should have been someone on watch.”

  “Uh huh,” Madison said sarcastically. “What are you guys doing out here, anyway? By my guess, we’re weeks out from the closest city. Why are you so far out in the wilderness?”

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered a second time. “We’re just following our normal route.”