Byzantium Infected Box Set

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Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 63

by James Mullins


  “Very well.” Athos replied.

  Athos jammed his shield into the face of the fourteen-year-old, as he thrust his Spatha into the face of the overweight man with his right hand. The man began dropping to the floor. Before the slain damned could finish his collapse to the hard stone, Athos kicked the corpse as hard as he could, sending it into the damned behind the man reaching for him as they advanced. The damned teenager, thanks to the blow from Athos’ shield, stood in a stunned daze as Athos leapt up onto the bank of toilets. Without further adieu to the seething mass of the damned before him, he sheathed his Spatha and drew the shield close against his chest, so that it would fit in the hole. Before the horde of formerly living citizens of Damascus could recover and reach him. He moved his feet over the open air of the hole and dropped into the tunnel below.

  In less than a second his feet struck the bottom of the sewer tunnel. Arms reached out to study him as the frigid cold of the water numbed his feet. Athos gasped in shock and asked, “Why is this water so cold?”

  “Never mind that, we need to make our escape before the beasties start dropping down upon us. We can use the shields as slides to travel quickly in this algae choked cesspit.” Constan glanced at the eight survivors trying to mentally gage if they could all fit onto the two large rectangular shields, “This is going to be a tight ride. Athos you sit in back of the first shield. Take Baltazar, Athea, and Liana.”

  Athos moved a few feet down stream and placed his shield in the water. Careful not to let go of it, he lowered himself down on it. To make room for the others he dangled his legs over the sides. Athea sat down on the shield next, followed by Liana and finally Baltazar. The added weight caused the shield to sink below the water until it struck the stone surface below.

  Despite the weight from the four people, the shield, which was curved making the side edges seem as if they were turned slightly upward, began slowly moving forward from a combination of the water pressure from behind, the downward slope of the tunnel, and the slickness of the algae which covered every inch of the tunnel surface. Constan smiled as the four tried to make the best of a tight fit, “Now push off with your hands on the edge of the tunnel.”

  Athos stuck his hands out, touched the wall, and pushed them in the direction of the water flow. The shield, which rode about six inches under the surface, immediately began to slowly build momentum as it slid forward on the slick algae chocked surface. The fast-moving current, in addition to Athos’ own efforts, helped to propel it down the channel.

  Constan, Nasir, Damon, and Maarika quickly followed suit and boarded their shield. As Damon pushed them off, the first of the damned dropped into the tunnel. The shield slowly began moving forward.

  The putrid man’s hand reached for Damon and grasped his shoulder, trying to pull him off the shield. As the shield began sliding down the tunnel. The damned, still holding onto Damon, tried to pull itself into biting range. Damon, lacking the room to draw his Spatha, tried to loosen the man’s hold on his right shoulder with his left hand. The extra weight of the snarling undead man grasping Damon’s shoulders created drag and slowed them down.

  One by one other damned, attracted to the noise, started to drop down into the tunnel and move toward them. Maarika, noticing their lack of speed, craned her neck to look back and see what was impeding their momentum. Seeing the grey colored hand with exposed knucklebones grasping Damon’s shoulder, she drew her dagger and passed it to Nasir.

  Nasir took the dagger from Maarika, turned and asked, “Damon, I have a dagger you can use to sever that hungry bastard’s fingers. Can you take it?”

  The weight of the damned pulling itself toward Damon was unbalancing him and he was at risk of falling off the shield, “Can you grab one of my legs so I don’t fall off?” Damon responded.

  Nasir nodded, “Aye.” He reached down with his left hand and grasped Damon’s left leg. He then held Maarika’s dagger with his right hand behind him.

  Damon took the dagger and turned to get a good look at the hand grasping him. He gasped as he saw that several more of the damned, had lost their footing, fallen into the water, and were now closing the distance to their shield. They slid across the slick algae as they thrashed on their backs propelled by the fast-moving water. Thanks to the unwanted guest hanging onto Damon’s shoulder the flailing damned were quickly closing the distance.

  Acting quickly, Damon began sawing on the wrist of the hand holding on to him with Maarika’s dagger. The sharpness of the blade surprised him, as it bit easily into the putrid grey flesh. Within moments the blade cut all the way through the wrist bones. Damon felt the severed hand slide down his back and into the water. They were free. With the added weight removed, their make shift shield slide gained speed and started outdistancing the floating damned behind them.

  “We’re free.” Damon said and slipped Maarika’s dagger into his belt. He then grasped the edge of the shield tightly as it picked up speed.

  As both groups shot down the tunnel propelled by the fast-moving current, the occupants held on for dear life. Failure to maintain their balance would mean falling off into the dark waters with an unknown number of damned in the tunnel behind them. As they picked up speed, they could feel the movement of air upon their faces. Without warning, the tunnel suddenly curved to the left. Both of the groups hung on for dear life as they turned violently in the tunnel’s new direction.

  Constan began to feel queasy and said, “I think I’ve left me stomach behind.”

  Nasir, smiling in glee, shouted into his ear, “Surely you jest? This is the most fun I’ve ever had!”

  Constan began to heave as the contents of his stomach screamed to get out. Maarika, heard Constan over the sound of the roaring water and yelled, “You’d better hold that in. If you get your innards in my hair. . .” Maarika paused and took a deep breath. She felt the wind whistling through her hair and smiled. Just enjoy this. The thought helped to calm her and she added, “Just hang on.”

  A pin prick of light appeared in front of them off in the distance. As they continued to move along quickly, the light at the end of the tunnel grew in size. Within seconds the first raft shot out of the tunnel several feet above the Barada River. Athos, Liana, Baltazar and Athea all held on to the shield underneath them, as they flew through the open air for several feet before crashing into the slow-moving brown river below the tunnel opening. With a giant splash Athos’ shield struck the water and the occupants, tumbled off into the river.

  Fearing, that the next group would land on top of them, the four did their best to move out of the way. Heralded by Nasir and Maarika’s gleeful shouts, the second shield mounted group, shot out of the tunnel and plowed into the river. Constan quickly stood up and yelled, “Don’t let the shields get away from us, we’re going to have company.”

  Athos and Damon moved quickly to secure the shields, and positioned themselves to cover the rest of the group as they made their way to the shore. As Baltazar and the ladies neared the shore and were able to stand up, the first of the damned came sailing out of the end of the sewer tunnel above. With a giant splash the creature landed in the river. Immediately the undead horror’s nostrils picked up the smell of living flesh nearby.

  The woman, let out a moan and began to turn herself in the water as she floated toward the smell of living flesh. She found the bottom of the river with her legs, planted her feet in the muddy sludge, and began to turn toward the shore. Before it had the opportunity to get its bearings, Damon and Athos boxed it in with the two shields and quickly dispatched it.

  Simultaneously, Constan bent over and began making gagging noises. Within seconds the next damned came shooting out of the tunnel above. Damon swung his Spatha at the flailing female before she struck the water. The metal blade cut through her head where her nose ended and her forehead began. The well-timed strike severed the top third of her head from the rest of her body. As her body struck the water, her unholy existence came to an end. The corpse bobbed in the slow-moving cu
rrent of the river as it floated downstream.

  The pair of Skutatoi repeated this process several times until, after a wait of several minutes, they were satisfied that no additional damned had followed them down into the tunnel. They made their way to shore and joined the other six members of their party. As they emerged from the river, the setting sun began to warm them.

  Athos looked around at them and asked, “Damascus is lost. What do we do now?”

  Constan, used the back of his sleeve to wipe his chin, took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, “First we find some drink.”

  Before Constan could continue Athea rolled her eyes and added, “How about we focus on finding some food and shelter for the night. Baltazar and Nasir are half starved. Once we’ve accomplished that. Then you can waste time, searching for wine.”

  Constan, with a twinkle in his eye, grinned, “Aye lass, right ye are.” Pointing downstream to the east he added, “There is a small village in that direction. We should be able to make it in a few hours.”

  The group set off in the direction indicated by Constan. They followed the edge of the river and the thin ribbon of green surrounding it as it slowly wound its way through the parched land. The sun disappeared behind them and the dying rays of the yellow orb slowly faded away into a myriad of colors. First yellows, then oranges, reds, and finally purples.

  After a few hours, a cluster of several structures appeared on the horizon below the silvery light of the rising moon. Constan pointed at the cluster of buildings and said, “The village of Tarma.”

  As they drew close to the village, Athos and Damon moved ahead of the group, drew their Spathas, and banged them against their shields. Everyone froze as the pair stopped and listened carefully. Their ears picked up the faint sound of the wind, but nothing else. Satisfied they moved into the village which consisted of about a dozen mud brick structures. Surrounding the village was hundreds of orange trees arranged in neat rows along the southern bank of the Barada River. The moonlight showed through the trees, causing shadows that cast eerie shapes on the ground.

  As they approached the first structure, they noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Fearing the worst, despite their earlier attempts to rouse any nearby damned, Athos banged the pommel of his Spatha against the door frame six times. Damon moved a few feet beyond Athos deeper into the village and took up a defensive position. With his left arm, Athos positioned his shield, so that it was between his body and the door. The other six drew an assortment of weapons. Constan and Baltazar, who were at the rear of the group, turned and faced the direction they had just come from.

  The group stood deathly still for nearly a minute. There was no sounds that they could detect from the structure or their surroundings. Athos, keeping his shield between himself and the doorway, slowly moved forward. When he was close enough, he gently pushed the door open with the tip of his blade. The door creaked loudly on its hinges as he did so.

  Steeling himself, he stepped into the dark interior of the structure. Trying to be silent, he crept several feet in, stopped, and waited. Not detecting any threats, he turned his head in the direction of the door and said, “All clear.”

  Nasir and Maarika entered the structure and felt around the interior. It wasn’t long before they located a lamp. Within a minute they had lit the lamp and were using it to explore the interior of the squat mud brick hut, “Looks like they packed before they left.” Maarika observed. She held the lamp up and looked at the low hanging thatched roof just a few inches above their heads.

  Constan, hearing Maarika’s statement, walked into the structure and said, “They abandoned the village at the order of the Governor. He wanted everyone still living, within the walls of Damascus.”

  Liana came in next and asked, “Is there any food?”

  Maarika made her way over to the larder with the lamp and looked through it, “No. Looks like they took everything with them.”

  Constan sighed, “Let’s check the rest of these structures. If there is no food, then we can pick some oranges. It’s been about a month since a patrol was sent out this way to collect them. There should be some on the trees that are ready to be picked again.”

  They continued their search through the remainder of the dwellings. Coming up empty they moved out into the orange grove and began picking the fruit. This brightened the somber mood of the group some. Before long they were laughing and smiling as they picked and consumed the juicy fruit.

  After they had eaten their fill of oranges, they gathered near the well at the center of the cluster of mud brick huts. Nasir turned to Constan and asked the question that had been on everyone’s minds since they were forced to flee from Damascus, “Where do we journey to from here?”

  Constan, who had put much thought into this question himself, immediately replied, “I think our best bet is to travel to Antioch. Emperor Heraclius is there, along with the surviving members of the Imperial Tagmata.”

  Both Baltazar and Athos bristled at this suggestion. Athos, questioned, “Why would we want to join those cowards? They left us for dead at Yarmuk.”

  Constan nodded in agreement, “That they did. Remember, I was a member of the Imperial Tagmata for many years under Heraclius in the war with Persia. If ordered those men would fight to the last, come back as demons, and fight until the arms of Satan pulled them into hell. I don’t believe it was the Tagmata that fled the field at Yarmuk. I think they were ordered to withdraw by that yellow bastard General Vahan.”

  Upon hearing the name, Athos, Baltazar, and Damon spat on the ground in unison, “You would want to bend knee to that coward and follow his orders?” Damon asked.

  Constan snorted, “A thousand times no. I said nothing about joining the bloody tagmata. Antioch is the closest city with known defenders. Ye can bet your arse that wherever the Emperor plants his, it’s going to be well defended.” Constan paused for a moment and patted the ample, bulging purse secured to his belt, “It will give us a chance to spend some of this gold we’ve earned and recovered. Once we’ve lived a little, we can figure out where to go from there to get away from this scourge of the damned. The town of Seleukeia, not far from Antioch, has a port, so we could travel anywhere from there.”

  Baltazar frowned at Constan’s explanation, “Shouldn’t we try Tyre first then? It’s closer and it also has a port. Surely the Emperor has sent enough troops to keep the town and the purple factories safe.”

  Constan pondered the question for a moment and then said, “Nay lad. Though, I believe Tyre still belongs to the Empire based on the reports that the Governor received weekly from Antioch. It would be Fonda’s next logical target.”

  “I see.” Baltazar replied, “You’ve been privy to information that the rest of us lacked.”

  Constan sighed, “Aye, I never wanted to become a sodden Tourmarches, but I didn’t have a bloody choice, did I?”

  Athos placed a hand on Constan’s shoulder, “You were an outstanding Tourmarches. Your training, strategies and tactics saved Damascus.”

  Constan’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground, “I don’t deserve ye praise. I saved it only to damn well bloody lose the 5th Parthica, and the city in short order.”

  Athos placed both of his hands on Constan’s shoulders. When Constan looked up into his eyes he said, “An ill turn of fortune. Not your fault.”

  Constan nodded, “Perhaps. Let’s get some shut eye, so we can travel on the ‘morrow.”

  Everyone nodded wearily at Constan’s suggestion. They gathered what bedding they could find from the other huts in the village, and collected it in the first hut they had entered. The couples each found a corner in the single room of the simple structure and fell asleep in each other’s arms. Constan, and Damon, not relishing the idea of sleeping by the remaining corner that contained the door, laid down to rest in the center of the room.

  Chapter 44

  Morning, September 30th 636, Village of Tarma, Syria Province, Byzantium

  New Beg
innings

  The group slept into the morning. As the sun rose, there was no cock to call attention to it, or sounds of the city to wake them. Unused to the complete silence of the empty village, and exhausted by their recent struggles against the damned, they slept until mid-morning. Constan was the first to wake. Wanting to let the others continue to rest, he sat up and observed the slumbering forms for a time. We’ve been through so much in just a short time. So many people under my command lost. A command I never wanted.

  He sighed deeply and contemplated what lay ahead for them, Yet there is so much more we must do to escape the damned. I’m so tired of fighting all the time. Maybe the best solution is to run away? He sat up and tucked his legs underneath himself and looked around the room at each of the three couples, All have fought so hard and yet have managed to hold onto their love for each other. Despite Athos’ best efforts at being an ass the day he got promoted, he and Athea’s love grows by the day. Baltazar, was feared lost by us all. Liana never gave up hope that he still lived. They’ve barely had a moment alone since they were reunited, but the love in their eyes for each other shines so brightly. Nasir and Maarika, I do not know them well, but what I have seen and heard thus far of that pair is inspiring. They made their way, through the damned, from Arabia Province. Arabia Province! Might as well have fought their way from bloody Aksum deep in Africa. All three couples deserve a chance at a normal life.

  Damon started to mutter something unintelligible in his sleep. He rolled over and bumped into Constan. As his torso came into contact with Constan’s leg, a huge blast of air issued forth from Damon’s posterior. Constan frowned and thought to himself, Ugh, is there nothing he can eat that doesn’t emerge from his bowels as a putrid assault on me nose?

  Constan sat in silence for another thirty minutes or so, he thought he was hearing wisps of conversation but he wasn’t sure. Finally, off to his left, he heard the very distinctive sound of a female giggling. It was Liana. Sounds like they are getting reacquainted well enough. Constan smiled. It’s been too long since the lass has had anything to be happy about.

 

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