Cam stepped out of the dust cloud and the compound sprang to daylight when Ashland’s bright stone landed just a few strides away. Puri stood beside him, searching the lit compound yard. Cam spotted Wraith ahead as he broke into a run toward the barracks.
When he neared the building, Cam saw men running out the back door. He ran toward them with his sword ready. As the fifth man emerged, a loud crack sounded and the roof collapsed, sending a blast of dust and debris spraying out the open doorway. Distracted by the imploding roof, the men turned toward the barracks. Cam took the opening to strike, slicing into the backside of the nearest man.
The other four turned toward Cam, holding their hands up to block the light. He swung low, taking one in the leg. As the man fell, another sliced at Cam. Dodging it, Cam spun to see Puri lunge out and slice the man’s sword arm off at the elbow. She slashed and opened another man’s stomach from hip to hip. Cam heard Puri cry out as her opponent fell to his knees, trying to push his entrails back in. The fifth man yanked his sword from Puri’s stomach and turned to face Cam. A rush of anger gripped Cam. He swung hard at the man; his sword exploding into the man’s mid-section, nearly slicing him in half. Still filled with anger, Cam took the head off the man and spun about to stab the hamstrung man through the chest.
He turned toward Puri to find her on her knees, holding her stomach. Blood covered her hand and seeped onto the ground. Her tanned skin had turned pale.
Her eyes met his, locking gazes for a moment. “I love you,” she said as she collapsed to the ground.
. . .
Brock kept his back to the light as he faced the two men. They advanced toward him and he backed a step. A black blur struck the man to his right, slamming him to the ground. The other man glanced to the side and Brock reacted, crouching and launching himself high into the air. Swinging his arms downward, he rotated, and his staff connected with the swordsman’s skull as he flew over him. Completing his rotation, Brock landed softly on his feet. He turned to find the man he had hit lying face-down in the dirt. A glance toward the other man revealed Wraith standing over him with his throat torn open. Looking around the yard, there was no other movement. All was quiet.
He stepped closer to Wraith, scratching behind her ears.
“Good girl.”
“Brock!” Cam came running from around the ruined barracks. “Come quick. It’s Puri!”
CHAPTER 58
Brock stared at the ruined barracks. No portion of the outer walls remained intact and only small sections stood higher than Brock’s head. The entire roof had fallen inside of those walls, the tiles of the roof shattered into small pieces. He could still hear occasional moans from survivors, but he had no idea how to get them out. Part of him wished they hadn’t had to kill these men, but it was a small part. A far larger part of him hated them for what they had done to the poor, innocent people that they had held captive.
He turned to find Puri and Cam carrying an unconscious guard over to the ruined barracks. They sat him upright beside the other survivor, his bound wrists behind his back as he leaned against the broken wall. Cam stepped back, putting an arm around Puri. Brock smiled as he watched his friend look at her, seeing the adoration in Cam’s eyes. Brock thanked Issal that he had healed her before she had lost too much blood. It had been close.
Shadows crossing the light drew his attention. Wraith was hopping about, anxious as she led his companions into the compound. It had taken a bit of coaxing to get her to go find Ashland, but he was happy to see that the effort had been worth it.
As his friends approached, Brock noticed blood on Parker’s shirt, skin showing through the hole within the crimson streak.
“Are you okay, Parker?” Brock asked.
“Yeah. I thought I was dead, but Ashland saved me.” Parker smiled. “I’m hungry enough to eat like Cam now though.”
Brock smiled at the reference as he turned to find Benny, Tipper, and Libby approaching with everyone’s packs.
“Tipper, Benny,” Brock called out. “Can one of you dig some food out for Parker?”
“Puri needs some food too,” Cam announced.
As Benny dug through his pack for some food, Brock pointed toward the ruined barracks.
“You were right, Benny,” he said. “Increasing the weight of the beam at the peak of the roof brought the whole thing down.”
Benny nodded, handing some dried meat to Parker and Puri. “I can tell. You sure don’t mess around, Brock.” He shook his head in wonder while staring at the ruined barracks. “The building is just a pile of rubble now.”
Brock turned his attention back to their prisoners. “Ashland, can you please heal these two men? I’d do it, but I’m a bit exhausted right now.” The fight with the guards, followed by healing Puri had taken its toll on him.
She nodded. “Sure, Brock.”
Kneeling beside the first man, she put her hand on him and closed her eyes. A moment later, the man shook and was gasping for air. However, he did not wake. When she healed the other man, his eyes opened wide, and he gasped for air.
Brock smiled. He wanted some answers.
“I’m so happy you’re awake,” Brock casually said to the man. “What’s your name?”
The man glanced around, fear already showing in his eyes. “Um…Terrance.”
Brock stepped closer to the man. “You’re lucky, Terrance. I’m giving you the opportunity to live, and I won’t even subject you to torture. I just need you to answer a few questions.”
Brock crouched, looking the man in the eyes. “However, my big friend here and this Tantarri woman both know a thing or two about inflicting pain.” He gestured toward Cam and Puri, hoping they would do their best to look menacing. “If you don’t cooperate, I’m afraid we’ll have to see what they can dream up.”
The man’s eyes looked haunted as they flicked from Cam, to Puri, then back to Brock. “What do you want to know?”
Brock smiled. “Good choice.” He stood upright, sweeping an arm wide. “What is this place? Who runs it?”
“This is a mine,” The man replied. “The Hand set it up. I work for them because they pay well. There’s a lot of gold to go around.”
Brock squinted. “They mine gold here?”
“Yes. There are gold deposits. They mine it and send it off to mint it into coins.” He paused, looking around. “I’m starving. Can I have something to eat?”
“I’ll get you some food after you’ve answered my questions,” Brock responded, glancing toward his friends then back to the man. “You mentioned The Hand. Who are they?”
The man shrugged. “I can only tell you what I know.” He glanced toward the unconscious man beside him. “He works for them. His name is Tom Gambo. Another man, a Master Eldarro, he works for them, too. He was here with some woman from the Ministry a number of weeks ago. She departed soon after, but Eldarro stayed until he and a number of the guards left to pursue someone.” He paused, staring at Brock for a moment before continuing. “The Hand has a network of people working throughout the Empire. They send us new prisoners from time-to-time to replace the ones who die.”
Brock thought of what the man said. The Hand. The name reminded him of the mark he had seen on Samson, Varius, and Eldarro. He stepped close to the unconscious man, tipping his head forward. In the light coming from Ashland’s charged stone, he could see the same mark at the bottom of the man’s hairline. He stepped back, leaving the man’s head drooping at an odd angle.
The guard was telling the truth, a truth that was now becoming clear to Brock.
“Do you know why the Hand is doing this? What’s their agenda?”
Terrance shrugged. “Gold I guess. Most of the prisoners are Unchosen. I always assumed they use them because nobody will miss them when they’re gone.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “Oddly, some are marked with the rune of Issal. I asked about that once, but they told me to shut up or leave without my gold. I shut up.”
Brock’s eyes widened. “There are prisoner
s marked with runes? Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” The man nodded. “We get one or two a year.”
Brock thought on this news, deciding that he needed to see about the prisoners.
He stood upright. “We need to open those buildings back there.” He pointed to where the prisoners slept. “Where are the keys?”
The man glanced toward Gambo. “He should have them. If not, they’re buried in the barracks.”
Brock glanced toward the ruined barracks behind the man before looking down at Gambo. He bent over and searched the pockets of the unconscious man. He pulled a set of keys from an inside coat pocket as the man began to stir.
When Brock stood, Gambo raised his head, blinking in the light. His eyes drifted up until he was looking Brock in the face. The man’s eyes grew wide.
“That symbol!” Gambo exclaimed. “Why are you marked with that symbol? It’s evil!”
Brock smiled at the man. “Can’t you tell? Look around you.” Brock said, with his arms spread wide. “Surely, you can see for yourself. Your worst fears are coming true.” He crouched down and leaned close, looking into the man’s eyes as he held his open hand out. “You might be a member of The Hand,” Brock squeezed his hand into a fist, “but I am the fist, the fist of Chaos. I’m going to crush your plans. The Hand will pay for what they’ve done here.”
CHAPTER 59
Rubbing at his weary eyes, Brock tried to shake the sleepiness he felt. After a draining and emotional night, two hours of sleep was not enough.
He motioned for Wraith to sit, and he scrambled atop the boulder near the mouth of the mine tunnel. Turning to put his back to the cliff wall, he faced the crowd assembling in the shade before him. Beyond the congregation, the morning sun brightly lit the western part of the compound and remains of the wall.
He patiently waited for the men and women assembled to settle as they finished their meal. Upon discovering that one of the buildings was a mess hall, they soon located the prisoners who were the camp cooks and set them to making an overly large breakfast. Many of the prisoners even went back for seconds, eager to eat more than their typical allotment. Looks of amazement still reflected from the eyes meeting his. Many would absently rub at their raw ankles, now free of shackles for the first time in months or years.
As he waited, his eyes drifted to a girl his age sitting in the front row. Salina smiled at him, tears filling her dark eyes again. He still couldn’t believe she was here; she couldn’t believe that she was free from her bonds. When Salina disappeared from the Academy the year prior, he had assumed she had quit and gone home, since that was what they were told by Academy leaders. Salina explained that she had been kidnapped at the beginning of winter break. Brock thought of the carriage that had almost run over him and Ashland while in Fallbrandt. The girl had likely been inside the carriage, on her way to this godforsaken mine.
When the cooks stepped from the mess hall, Brock decided it was time to make his move.
He cleared his throat, preparing to speak. Benny had explained that his voice would carry from this spot, the sound guided by the alcove of rock walls behind him. Speaking with force, but not quite yelling, he tested it out.
“Can everyone hear me?” Brock’s eyes searched the crowd. “Someone raise your hand in the back if you can hear me.”
When three hands along the rear of the assembly popped up, he nodded in satisfaction. In a long, drawn-out breath, he released the air from his lungs a breath as he tried to calm his nerves. Having an audience of a hundred people made him feel a bit shaky, unused to addressing such a large group. His stomach churned in the anxiety of the moment.
“Good morning everyone.” He began. After all, it was a good morning. “I am very sorry for what you’ve had to endure here. As you may have figured out, you are now free. Your captors have been disposed of, and there is nothing stopping you from going off to live your own lives.”
Cheers rang out from the throng, tears flowing again as they hugged each other. Brock remained patient, letting them have this moment before he continued. After a minute, he took a breath and resumed.
“However, I also have bad news to deliver.” He wished otherwise, but the truth was all he had. “A horrible war is coming. A dark force of incredible strength has come to Issalia and has already swept across Kalimar. I know for a fact that this force has crushed Sol Polis, the largest city in the Empire, in mere hours.”
He paused, trying to pace the message. “I expect that you all have heard of an ancient enemy known as the Banished Horde. It may seem like the stuff of legends and fairy tales, but they are real and they have returned. I’ve seen what they can do. It is the stuff of nightmares, not legends. The death and destruction they leave in their wake is horrifying.”
He scanned the crowd, his eyes landing on Ashland. She smiled and nodded at him. With a rush of confidence filling him, he continued.
“This unstoppable force will continue across the continent in their quest to kill every man, woman, and child. It’s just a matter of time before everyone is dead and every city is destroyed.”
He paused again, before delivering the rest. “So, enjoy your freedom for the moment. Your life is soon going to come to a bitter end. I’m sorry.”
He stopped his speech, letting the gravity of it to sink in. For a long moment, shock held them hostage.
Salina stood and shouted. “Why even free us if this is our fate? Can nothing be done? Won’t the Holy Army stop them?”
Brock smiled, mentally thanking the girl for her spirit. He had counted on someone to do it.
“From what I’ve seen, the Holy Army stands no chance. They are outnumbered and out powered.” His intense eyes reflected the serious nature of his statement as his gaze swept across the crowd. “You see, The Horde is made of banshees.”
Everyone had heard of banshees, likely thinking them pure tales of fancy.
“Yes, I said banshees.” He nodded. “They are real. We have seen them and have even fought some. We lost some good people in that fight.” He thought of Lars, missing his friend. “At ten feet tall, each has the strength of many men. They use fear as a weapon, along with long sharp talons that can tear your face off with a swipe. There could be thousands of them.”
Brock could see the previous hope he had given to them fading fast. He hated to do it like this, but he needed them and could not afford to lose any more time.
“However, there is one thing that could turn the tables in our favor. There is one thing that might stop this dark army and save humanity from extinction.”
He paused, waiting for it. Again, Salina was the one to speak out.
“What is it? What can we do?” she shouted.
This was it. This was his moment. Brock raised his arms, holding them wide.
“You can join me and form the most powerful army ever known.”
The hopelessness reflected in those standing before him transformed to looks of confusion. Salina shouted again.
“What are you talking about? Look at us; we’re not fighters. Some of these people can barely walk.”
“True.” Brock nodded. “However, each of you can be worth a hundred fighters. This is because most of you, like me, have the ability to wield magic. The magic of Chaos.”
Confused looks shifted among the crowd. Needing to impress them, Brock decided that a demonstration might be what he needed.
“Watch this.” He jumped down from the boulder.
Brock shooed Wraith toward Ashland, causing everyone to back away in fear of the huge dog as she walked past. He had counted on that reaction, trying to create some space. He pulled a chunk of coal from his coat pocket and traced a large rune on the face of the rock. Closing his eyes, he seized on Chaos and drew it in. He charged the rune, turning to run as soon as it began to glow.
From the look in their eyes, he knew that they were witnessing the rune glowing red in the shade of the cliff. A loud crack sounded as shards of rock sprayed in all directions, falling just short
of the front row of spectators. The boulder began to rise until it stood on four stone legs. Scraping and grinding sounds echoed throughout the complex as the boulder rumbled toward him. Before everyone ran in fear, Brock approached the rock, placing a hand on it.
“See what the power of Chaos can do?” He stepped beside the rock, patting it as it stopped beside him. “Using this magic, I brought this rock to life. It is now my pet, willing to attack anyone I set it upon or protect me from anyone willing to do harm. This is but one example among many things Chaos can do. This is what you can learn if you let me teach you.”
Brock scrambled up the creature’s leg, climbing onto its rocky back. “I know quite well that this world has treated Unchosen poorly. I was one of you, born Unchosen.” His gaze swept across the crowd, finding their full attention in his direction. “I have discovered that you all were subjected to living your lives as Unchosen because the power of Chaos is within you. Some people know the truth and they’ve been trying to hide it. They fear this magic, afraid of what Chaos can do. Because you have this inherent ability, they established laws designed to keep you down in fear that you might discover this power within. A group known as The Hand has gone even further, locking you away in this prison to control you because of their fear.”
He searched the faces before him, seeking a spark. He needed to make them angry enough to fight. “I say, damn them all. Sure, we could seek revenge and use Chaos as a weapon against the men and women who have chosen to deceive us and cage us. I ask you: Is that what Issal would have you do? Is it right to abuse this power by harming others for such selfish reasons? Wouldn’t that just prove your hateful captors correct, confirming their motives?”
Brock paused again to allow them consider the dilemma. Now to provide them direction.
“Another option is for you to join me and use this power to stop this demonic army. You can help me save the innocent men, women, and children who will surely die if we do nothing. We can prove our value to the people of the Empire by saving them. We are their hope and are the only ones who can do it. Perhaps, we can then live the full lives that they have previously denied us. Who is with me?”
The Emblem Throne (The Runes of Issalia Book 2) Page 28