Brave Men Die: Part 3

by Dan Adams

  ‘Are the fletchers not producing enough?’

  ‘Apparently not. Too many targets, not enough ammunition. Those bloody Kyzantines just keep coming, it’s like they have a never ending supply of troops to just keep sending at us.’

  ‘I will organise all of that. Go and eat something and sleep. I’ll pass round the word that you are not to be interrupted and all inquiries should come to me. A good night’s sleep will help calm you down and you’ll be right in the morning.’

  Pollux smiled at the memory of a very similar situation, only both parties had been much younger back then. Last time the child had won and refused to sleep and this time the man knew better. How things had changed.

  ‘Thanks Byrn. If anything drastic happens let me know okay. I’m responsible you know.’ Pollux watched as Byrn nodded and walked away muttering softly about doing just that, even though Pollux knew he wouldn’t see the old man til sun up.

  ‘Wait Byrn, there are still the burials that need to be organised …’

  His only response was Byrn waving back over his shoulder as he kept walking away and the thought that he had just opened up fresh wounds haunted him.

  He found Octans eating and sat down beside him with his own meal and quietly ate. At least the bread was fresh he thought as he chewed. The silence was shattered by a loud creak emanating from down the pass. Everyone’s attention shifted to the possibilities that lay beyond the stonework. Pollux looked at Octans who shrugged and resumed eating. Nothing could disturb the big man when he was shovelling in food. He’d even heard rumours that he had answered the alarm one night fighting with a sword in one hand, a loaf of bread in the other.

  Pollux ignored the noise the Kyzantines were making and left them to their nonsense as he found himself a bit of unoccupied ground and lay down. There was no point in finding himself an available bed — something would happen before long and the weather wasn’t that bad tonight. Octans joined him after he had finished and was soon snoring beside him. Pollux closed his eyes and thought of home as he drifted off to sleep.

  He woke suddenly as screams echoed in his ears and he jerked himself upright, scanning for the threat. His eyes ran the length of the walls but could see nothing amiss. He turned his attention to the compound and noticed the large boulder off to one side and the screams of the man whose legs were trapped underneath. Two other men were under the weight of the rock, already dead by the time Pollux got over there.

  Looking down at the grizzly sight, Pollux shuddered as the men’s bodies ended abruptly where the boulder began.

  ‘Someone go and get the medics and organise to get this bloody rock off him,’ Pollux yelled over the milling men, all eager to get a look.

  Octans was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he knelt beside the trapped man. ‘It’s going to be alright mate, we’ve sent for the medics and they’ll fix you up.’

  Pollux wasn’t so sure of that. He was just grateful the man couldn’t see that his legs had disappeared completely under the boulder. The recognition of that alone might kill the man.

  He realised what the creaking noise had been earlier in the night. The bloody Kyzantines had wheeled a catapult up the bloody pass and were planning on hurling rocks at them all night. Pollux looked for Ara and hoped that she could do something about this new problem.

  He headed for the walls, thinking that he might be able to see the war engine for himself and that Ara might already be there planning on doing something. Climbing the stairs he expected to see it staring back at him but all he could see was darkness. Pollux ran his hand through his hair, thinking that his efforts were futile. Eventually Ara came to stand beside him and peered into the darkness.

  ‘Can you do something about this?’ he asked.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Destroy the catapult with magic?’

  ‘Can’t destroy something I can’t see, Pollux. I have to have a line of sight.’

  Pollux’ shoulders slumped as he realised exactly what that meant. The Kyzantines had indirect firing capabilities and all they could do was wait around for it to hit. Maybe in the morning they could deal with this, but not now.

  ‘You couldn’t teleport closer?’ he asked, clutching at his last possible thread of hope.

  ‘I need to be able to see where I’m going, where I’ll end up. In the dark I could misjudge and reappear in the middle of the mountain.’

  ‘Fly?’

  ‘Pollux, even I have my limits. I’m just too tired to cast. There is only so much I can do. You are just going to have to deal with this the old fashioned way and last it out until the morning when I might be in a position to do something. And no, before you ask, I will not cast a shield over the compound tonight. Do you know how draining that is?’

  ‘Go and get some sleep. I’ll let the men know they should be prepared for more attacks.’

  He spread the word around the camp with his shoulders slumped, finally going past the first boulder and catching the medic’s eye. The man just shook his head and moved off, leaving the corpse trapped under the rock. Pollux turned away from the sight. He couldn’t deal with it now. He found Octans already asleep: obviously the catapult was no real concern for him.

  The whistling sounded again, the only real warning they had in the darkness before multiple shadows rained down upon the compound. Rocks pounded into the stonework, shaking the foundation at the core. The men on the walls of Black Claw dropped to their knees as the walls rattled around them.

  Smaller rocks fell amongst the sleeping troops, one hitting a man squarely on the skull and his head exploded. Other missiles tore off limbs while Octans continued to slumber.

  Pollux shook him violently. ‘How can you sleep through this?’

  Octans brushed him away, rolling over and returning to sleep. Angry at his friend’s ability to sleep through this, Pollux left him there, never straying too far. He rubbed at his blood shot eyes he kept his legs moving to stay awake.

  The whole compound was tense as the paranoia crept in. There was nothing that could be done about it, they would just have to wait for the morning and hope they could stay awake to avoid the boulders crashing randomly around the compound.

  Pollux watched the mixed reaction of the troops. Some slept and others huddled in small groups keeping each other awake. Men took it in turns to sleep while others remained alert. He was proud that they were so organised.

  Hours passed without another shot being fired. Those soldiers that had remained awake looked ready to drop and Pollux guessed they regretted their decision. He was in two minds about it himself. Maybe Octans was right and he should have gone back to sleep.

  The whistling alerted everybody that the next barrage was coming and those that were awake woke the others. Pollux watched the boulder fly through the air as it came sailing down toward where he had been sleeping earlier. Right to where Octans was still sleeping now. He hadn’t realised he had drifted so far from his friend. He couldn’t run fast enough, couldn’t call out. He could only watch its trajectory now, see it land.

  An unnerving fear came from the pit of his stomach as the rock smashed into the ground. Men who it crushed screamed as they died. Finally, Pollux found his courage and went rushing toward the group to see if Octans was alive. He would hate himself if he’d gotten hurt.

  Octans woke at the sounds of the screams and looked over to see the boulder on top of two guys barely two metres away. He almost shat himself thinking how it could have been him. The trademark whistling sounded again and he got up and ran, taking off toward the entrance of the pass and passed Pollux on the way, thinking that the man was an idiot for running toward him.

  Pollux stopped as he watched Octans run past, turned and went after him as the smaller boulders rained down. The onslaught had begun, the Kyzantine barrage continued. He ran all over the place, dodging between falling rocks in an effort to catch his friend. He kept moving until he left the catapults range, the rocks still falling throughout the compound behind him, Po
llux managed to catch up then crash tackle him to the ground. He rolled on top of him and slapped him hard across the face.

  ‘Snap out of it you fool,’ Pollux hissed.

  ‘I could have been …’

  ‘Yes and you weren’t. Deal with it.’

  The two remained still for moments, neither sure how this would play out.

  Suddenly Octans roared with laughter. ‘Bloody hell, mate, I reckon I’ve got the gods luck on my side.’

  Pollux patted him on the chest and rolled off him, smiling at the return of Octan’s humour. ‘Luck, you must have stolen their speed! I’ve never seen you run so fast.’

  The two friends sat there in silence, listening to the camp at Black Claw, staring back down at the inevitable. Both were wondering how long their luck could hold out.

  The two men reluctantly walked back into camp. Everyone was on high alert, watching the sky and listening for the warnings. Pollux and Octans joined the men in silence, watching the night for shadows and hoping that dawn would come soon.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The wind rattled through the stone corridors of the Academy making the Fifth Circle mage glance nervously over her shoulder. Not discarding the possible threat, Laura moved urgently along. Her footsteps scuttled across the tiled floor as she hurried along the first floor open expanse, passing through the periodic shadows cast by the pillars on her left side.

  Travelling quickly down the stairs, her hand skimmed along the rail for balance, the balls of her feet barely touching each step. With her hood down, her blonde hair was tousled by the breeze channelling down the corridors of the lower levels of the Academy. Her right hand absently pulled the straying strands from her hazel eyes and back behind her ear every other minute as the swirling wind in the courtyard took over.

  The Academy was silent in the early hours of the morning. The other students and mentors were abed or at study, anywhere but walking the halls. It was still hot and there was humidity in the summer air, despite the sun sinking beneath the horizon hours ago and the current breeze. As she neared the western training area that was external to the main building, Laura could sense the residue of magic that hung heavily in the air. She blinked and traced the pattern, recognising a variety of familiar signatures and the weaves they had cast. Most of it was of an elemental nature, no mage above the Sixth Circle had been on the western field yesterday morning, but two women had been casting something different. There were two fire-based incants but they had darker threads, something she couldn’t quite place. Laura thought after some sleep she would come back and figure out what they were doing, learn it for herself and see what else she could apply the twisted threads to.

  When she veered away from the training grounds Laura’s thoughts returned to her fears of being followed. Pausing ever so slightly, the incant came to the forefront of her mind and she whispered the four key words to activate the spell and send out a pulse that would pick up anyone in the vicinity who was currently casting. There were no pings on her radar, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t being followed by conventional means. Perhaps she just couldn’t see them trailing her.

  The thought of being followed was slightly disturbing. She’d never been one to frighten easily, but the information she knew would get her killed if she revealed it to the wrong person.

  It had taken her two days to decide who to share that information with. Laura had to weigh up her options. By revealing her hand now she thought it would put her in good stead for later with whomever she told.

  The choice of Elder Sectin had ultimately been quite simple. She was known for her reclusive nature, her unwillingness to share with the other Council members, and she knew the excavation site extensively. If there was anything beneath the ground in Firadon she would know what it was and how it worked. Laura’s only concern was one of the final sentences in the missive she had intercepted on her shift in the Academy’s mail centre. It had been addressed to “a mage” with no name attached. As far as she was concerned, she was a mage and therefore it was meant for her. The news in the letter that made her act quickly was, ‘Captain Finn Strom had sent for his cousin, an acolyte named Rigel, and was told to bring his pet mage along.’ Clearly the writer had no idea that it was the mage in charge and the acolyte was subject to her whim. But worse, more inherent than the man’s stupidity, was the fact that there was only one acolyte at the Academy named Rigel — notorious and skilled — and worse, he belonged to the Seventh Circle mage, Carina.

  Carina had a reputation everyone was in awe of. The blonde was ferocious, intelligent, and cunning. Her movement through the Circles had been fast and brutal and the testers had remained cagey about the details, which in turn made her a celebrity in her own right. In recent times only Ara had risen so quickly but not under the same circumstances. Carina was ambitious and ruthless, Ara patient and talented — but both brilliant.

  Laura had never been in a class with either of them, she’d started after both and had never accelerated at the same speed. She had only seen Carina in action once, casting in the yard as everyone stared open-mouthed as the spell was nothing like they had seen before.

  Elder Sectin had a similar reputation to Carina — that fierce attitude that scared the crap out of the lesser-ranked magi. Elder Sectin specialised in magical artefacts, the kind that would be buried underneath the ruins. She was intimidating, centuries old and wise beyond that, and stunned all the others into silence. Laura had never spoken to her, had even avoided her in the halls, but when forced to walk past her she even kept her head down and scurried on by.

  But Laura had swallowed her fear and some part of her pride when she learned of the discovery of an untouched chamber beneath the ruins. It was the largest find in centuries and countered the common knowledge that those ruins had been cleared out centuries ago by the Council. This discovery could bring back some of the forgotten magics lost in the breaking. Laura wanted to be like Carina, wanted to be pushing the boundaries, to become stronger than the Council. Being in on the ground on this discovery could mean access to anything they pulled out of it, it could mean she would be one of the first to learn.

  As she stepped out into the south side courtyard the wind whipped through the branches of the only two trees present, shaking a flurry of bright green leaves to the ground below.

  Laura thought of the situation in Firadon and wished she was down there. With no one there but Carina, she would keep all the discoveries to herself. There was no doubt in her mind that unless she was there or a member of the Council then there would be no inventory and things would just go missing. Like all the good things. Especially if it had anything to do with Carina’s field of study.

  She paused in the shadows of the largest trunk and waited. She knew she was early but she didn’t want to be tardy, Elder Sectin despised tardiness and she didn’t want to start on a back foot.

  The moonlight illuminated every path into the courtyard, and Laura watched intently for the elder mage and anyone else who was planning on crashing. When she had walked into the office on the fifth floor at the Academy and had requested to speak to the senior mage, she had made a note of every person that she passed, whether mage or acolyte. They were all suspicious, all jealous. She wouldn’t give them the opportunity to take this away from her.

  Laura only heard the footsteps approaching from behind her the moment before the blade sank into her lower back. She gasped in pain before a hand muffled her building scream and pulled her down to the ground. The assassin pulled the knife from her back as blood slid down her legs and Laura looked frantically around to locate her assailant.

  The man stood over her menacingly, blade dripping with her blood as her life ebbed away. He knelt down beside her, leaning forward. As he moved closer his face moved out of the shadow and her eyes went wide as she recognised him. But instead of whispering in her ear, he put a hand on her breast and whispered an incant that incinerated her in seconds, leaving no trace that Laura Dennison ever existed as the wind scattered
what little ash remained on the spot of her murder.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Nails were somewhere in the Derelict Plains, Castor had no real idea where. Probably somewhere in the middle. He hadn’t seen the map for days but what else was it going to tell him. They were behind enemy lines and out here, everything was a threat.

  The men were exhausted. They needed to rest, recuperate, sleep. They just needed one day when someone wasn’t trying to kill them.

  Hydrus led the unit into a small copse of trees that would offer them very little protection if anyone came by and searched it. The crescent moon filling the night sky exposed between the drifting clouds wouldn’t help them go unseen. They needed darkness. There was a small depression in the middle of the trees that Hydrus ordered the wounded take the horses into to try to get them out of sight. The rest of the unit dispersed and settled themselves on the outskirts of the copse, lying on their bellies and peering out into the darkness.

  Castor found what cover he could and stared out into the darkness. Somewhere out there Pyxis was searching for them. Probably half the Empire was searching for them, after what they had been doing to their supply lines. He placed the loaded crossbow beside his hand and looked out from underneath the branch.

  The unit maintained silence as they kept up their vigil. There was no telling what was out in the night. Castor swore he saw movement out to his right and took hold of his crossbow. By the time he was in position the night had gone still and he had nothing to shoot. He swore that it wouldn’t happen again and he kept the crossbow close to his fingertips.

  His heart beat faster as the hours went by, his imagination jumping at the shadows and the rustles he heard behind him. Castor had to keep telling himself it was just another one of his men. There was no way the enemy could have snuck up on them. Pyxis couldn’t be that close.