Without hesitation Athos flung himself to the ground and Constan heaved the bejeweled Spatha at the oncoming damned. His aim true, the blade slammed into the forehead of the growling creature and sent it falling backwards, dead. Athos released the ankles of the damned in front of him and yanked the weapon free of the slain damned’s skull.
He whirled and brought it down on the back of the head of the undead whose milky white eyes gazed at Constan hungrily as it tried to stand. The blade, penetrated the creature’s skull ending its unholy existence. Athos then ascended the stairs of the Imperial Dais, as he did so, he caught sight of two Imperial Guards pushing Emperor Heraclius out a door behind the throne.
Joining Constan at the top of the stairs Athos turned and looked down upon the scene in front of them. It was pure chaos. The executed courtiers had expanded their number to include every noble in the room and half of the armored guards. The half dozen surviving guards, their once resplendent plate armor now covered in blood and gore, had gathered back to back, and worked together to hold the damned at bay.
Athos turned to Constan and asked, “Your orders sir?”
Constan looked around the room desperately for a weapon of his own. His eyes fell on a nearby brazier, I guess it will have to do. He thought to himself.
“Keep your sword, I’ll grab one of the braziers and use it as a club of sorts. Let’s hit the bastards from behind while they are focused on the Imperial Guards.
The two men, now both armed, advanced toward the backs of the damned facing the surviving guards. As Athos easily dispatched one of the damned from behind with his Spatha, Constan brought his still burning brazier down in a wide arc. The brazier, smashed into the top of his target’s head, which sent bone, brain matter, and flaming ashes in all directions. The damned’s hair caught on fire as it collapsed to the blood-soaked white marble floor.
Taking advantage of the sudden gap in the damned that surrounded them, one of the guards took a step forward and swung his Spatha in a wide arc intending to widen the gap further. Unfortunately, this separated himself from the protective circle and the court’s diminutive fool saw its opportunity to feast on flesh. Darting in, the miniature damned sank its teeth into the guard’s calf muscle. He howled and went down on one leg trying to beat the fool off with his blade.
Another of the guards, trying to rescue his comrade beset by the undead fool, brought his Spatha down on the fool’s head. The fool’s head exploded in an eruption of bone, brains, and purple blood. The fool’s former guard victim, grabbed the arm of his would be savior and pulled the unfortunate toward him. The living guard stumbled and fell into the grasp of the comrade he just tried to rescue.
Fortunately, his armor and helm saved him from this threat. Unfortunately, the exposed skin between his greaves proved to be too much of a temptation for the other damned, and they sank their teeth into the exposed flesh. Caught between several of the feasting damned, what was left of him quickly joined their ranks.
Athos, moved to the rescue of the guard beset by his damned comrade. He ripped the helm off the newly undead guard’s head. The hungry guard ignored Athos and continued to hold down the living guard looking for exposed flesh to bite. A second later Athos plunged his Spatha into the back of its head. Constan, snatched up the now dead man’s sword, as Athos brought his Spatha down on the living man’s head, putting him out of his misery.
During the time it took Constan to rearm himself and for Athos to end the lives of both guards, the remainder of the guards, their line broken, fell to the damned, “I think we got a problem.” Athos said.
“Ye damn well better believe we have a problem lad. Were the only two people drawing breath left in this room.” Constan said.
“That is a big problem considering there’s still twenty people left in the room. What do we do?” Athos asked.
“Let’s stay together and slowly start backing up toward that door behind the throne.” Constan said.
“I wish we had some shields.” Athos said.
Constan nodded in agreement and said, “Aye.”
The two men slowly retreated as damned after damned came at them. Despite their best efforts at a controlled withdrawal the damned managed to encircle them, much like they had done to the guards earlier. Fortunately, unlike the guards, they had the throne at their backs giving them some cover. Unfortunately, they lacked the heavy plate armor that made the guards difficult targets for the damned.
The two men, worked together to stay alive, but it became obvious how this fight would end as the damned pressed in, “There’s just too many.” Athos said in-between Spatha swings.
“Keep fighting lad, we’ll figure something out.” Before Constan could say more he had to focus on amputating the arm of a damned that reached for him. The large man, formerly an imperial guard, howled in frustration as his arm, which had grasped Athos’ sword arm fell to the ground.
Freed from the unexpected grasp, Athos ducked under another damned that lunged at him. The slender robed form went sailing over his left shoulder. The robed damned landed on the white marble floor several feet behind Athos and growled in frustration. Before that damned could get itself back to its feet and attack Athos from behind Athos cleaved the legs off the guard in front of Constan at the knees.
The one armed damned fell to the ground on its two bleeding leg stumps and managed to catch itself with its remaining arm. Constan took advantage of the helpless moment and struck the head off the creature as its milky white eyes gazed up at him in defiance.
Two more damned instantly filled the gap that was created. Athos, using the pommel of his sword, smashed the next damned in the face to push him back a foot. He then used the second that move bought him to whirl around and stab the damned that was now coming at his back in the face.
Constan, was not as fortunate. He tried to cleave off the head of the former Imperial Guard in front of him. The guard had other ideas. It lunged at Constan’s exposed left side, trying to bite his arm. Instead of striking the guard in the neck and cleaving off his head, Constan’s Spatha struck the side of his helm. Sparks flew and the impact of steel on steel rang across the room.
Left with a choice between getting bitten in the left arm or falling backwards, Constan chose to fall backwards. As he fell back, the damned’s clicking teeth narrowly missed his left arm. He tried to take another swing with his Spatha as he fell. The blade once again rang with the impact of steel on steel as it struck the damned’s armored chest and bounced off.
The hulking damned guard lunged directly at Constan’s face. Constan, now sitting on the floor with his back to the throne, brought his Spatha up to block the attacker’s mouth. The sound of the metal helm striking his blade echoed throughout the room.
Having defeated the opponent behind him, Athos began turning back toward the remainder of the damned with his gore encrusted Spatha still in hand. He glanced quickly down at Constan, whose was desperately trying to fend off the Imperial Guard atop him. At the same time two more of the former Imperial Guards were reaching for him from just ahead. God if you’re listening, we could really use some help right now.
At that same moment the door behind the throne, and the double brass entry doors across the throne room burst open. In flooded dozens of Imperial Guards. The damned bearing down on Constan and Athos immediately turned toward the noise and saw the living flesh pouring into the room. With the exception of the damned atop Constan, they disengaged from the beleaguered pair and charged the two groups of incoming guardsmen.
Acting quickly, Athos ripped off the helm of the damned guard atop Constan and brought his Spatha down upon the top of its skull. The blow sent bone, and brains flying as he forever ended its malevolent existence. As Athos helped Constan roll the large armored corpse off of him, the living guardsmen, working as a team, and properly outfitted with shields, made short work of the damned.
When the room was fully secured, Emperor Heraclius entered flanked by two of his guardsmen on each side, “What
a mess. I haven’t seen this much blood and gore since we defeated the Persians in front of Ctesiphon.”
Constan turned smiled and said, “Aye, I remember. Twas’ a great day that ended in a mighty feast.”
The Emperor grinned, “It was indeed.” The Emperor paused and took a moment to look around the room, “What a sad state of affairs. Traitors are hard enough to kill. Traitors that you have to kill twice, so much more so.”
Constan nodded, “They are indeed.”
The Emperor sighed deeply and turned to face Constan and Athos, “Getting back to the matter at hand before we were so rudely interrupted by these damned traitors. There is the matter of your guilt.”
Both Constan and Athos’ fell to the gore encrusted white marble floor.
The Emperor placed a hand one hand each on Constan and Athos’ shoulders and asked, “Why so glum?” He let the words hang in the air for several long moments as a look of confusion passed across his ancient features before remembering, “Oh right your sentence.” He paused for a moment and cleared his throat loudly before continuing in his official voice, “In light of your valiant defense against overwhelming odds at Damascus, the unusual nature of the enemy, and the service you provided here today, I am commuting your sentence of death. Raise your heads and meet my gaze.”
Athos and Constan looked up into the Emperor eyes. The man’s stern gaze seemed to bore into the depths of their souls, “Constan, it would be a shame to waste the expertise you have built in your many encounters with the damned. Those skills were aptly demonstrated here today. Further, by most accounts you have stood your ground bravely and shown an ability to devise innovative solutions to evolving battlefield realities.”
The Emperor paused for a moment and glanced at General Vahan’s mangled head before continuing, “Skills that others have not. It would be a terrible waste to remove those skills prematurely from their service to the Empire. Therefore, I am assigning you command of the 5th Babylon currently in residence here at Antioch. You will lead this hearty group of Armenians to Jerusalem where you will recover the True Cross and return it to your Emperor.”
The Emperor paused and took a sip from his wine goblet that had appeared in his hand while he was speaking, “Kentarches Athos, you will continue reporting to your Tourmarches where I am sure you will acquit yourself well. Do not return to the Empire of the living without the Cross or you will face the same fate as General Vahan; however, your end will not be as mercifully quick as his should you fail in this. I’m giving you a chance to prove that you deserve to keep living. Understood?”
Both Constan and Athos replied in unison, “Yes my Emperor.”
The Emperor smiled, “Good. One of my guards will take you to a member of the 5th Babylon who will lead you back to their barracks immediately. Two days hence you will take ship from Seleuciam and debark at Joppa in Palestinia Province. You are dismissed.”
Relief washed over the two men as they turned to leave. In that moment the imperial signet ring on Constan’s left pinky caught the light in the room and reflected it. The Emperor’s eyes were drawn to the source of the light and alighted on the ring. Their departure was interrupted by the Emperor’s booming voice, “Wait! Approach Tourmarches. Let me see your ring.”
Constan went white as he reached down and fingered the ring with his right hand. Sodden hell! We were almost free of this viper pit.
Before Constan could recover his wits and approach, the Emperor sat on his throne and roared, “I said approach!”
Constan turned back toward the Emperor and approached the throne. As he walked forward, he slipped the ring off with his right hand and placed it into the Emperor’s outstretched palm who had stood up to meet him. The older man squinted at the ring that rested in his palm and then said, “This is Fabia’s ring. How did you come by it?” His voice had a slight tremor in it that betrayed his emotional state.
Constan took and deep breath and replied, “From your daughter’s corpse your majesty. She had become one of the damned and attacked my group just shy of the road to Heliopolis.”
Stunned, the Emperor sat down on his throne slumped, leaned his head against his right hand, and whispered, “No. That cannot be.”
Silence fell over the room as the Emperor openly wept, “She was supposed to see to the refugees north of the army. She promised me she would keep herself out of danger.” The Emperor sat back down on his throne as tears freely ran down his cheeks.
Constan waited patiently for the Emperor’s next words. After nearly a full minute the Emperor was able to compose himself enough to speak. The old man’s features darkened with rage as he said, “Why didn’t you tell me this? We’re you hoping to keep the ring for yourself?”
Constan swallowed hard and opened his mouth to reply. Before he could respond the Emperor’s, voice demanded, “Well?”
“I just didn’t know how to tell ye, majesty.” There was a slight tremor in Constan’s voice as he said the words.
Emperor Heraclius nodded slowly in response before asking, “Nor did I give you a chance to do so. Did you see anything that would allow you to determine what happened?”
Constan bowed slightly as he replied, “Aye. It appeared that she organized her own personal guard into a defense.”
“Why would she do that? Fabia promised me that she would keep herself out of danger.” The Emperor replied.
“My guess is that she did that to buy time for those that were fleeing and were still south of the army.” Constan said.
The Emperor, through tear stained eyes, threw a glance at General’s Vahan’s head, “He was supposed to stand his ground until all of the refuges had made it through and then to hold against the damned to buy them the time they needed escape.”
Constan placed a hand on the Emperor’s shoulder. Every guard in the room took a step forward before the Emperor waved with his left hand signaling them to stop, “Based on the evidence, it appears that he ordered the Tagmata to leave the refugees to their fate and retreated northward.”
Emperor Heraclius pushed away Constan’s hand and exclaimed, “That yellow bastard! I wish I had given him the agonizingly slow death the churl truly deserved!”
The Emperor stood and walked over to General Vahan’s severed head and spat upon it, “See that this coward’s body is fed to the dogs.” He then gestured to the General’s head at his feet, “I want this to find its way onto a spear and mounted above the gate to my palace.”
The Emperor then spent a few moments gathering the contents of his throat and spat upon the General’s head a second time before saying, “May your cowardly soul forever burn in the hell fires of damnation as vermin feast upon your flesh!”
As the Emperor turned to walk back to his throne, he could hear a faint clicking noise coming from the General’s head. He turned around and approached the head. His bones creaked as he slowly bent over to grasp it. He picked it up with both hands and turned it so that he looked upon the face. A pair of milky white eyes stared back at him as the damned General growled. The severed head then opened and closed his mouth in rapid succession causing its teeth to click together in rapid succession, “Holy Christ!” Shocked, the Emperor dropped the head.
Reacting without a thought, Athos moved forward and smashed his sandaled foot into the head crushing the skull.
The Emperor turned to Athos and said, “Thank you Kentarches for your quick thinking. You may have saved my life this night. I would invite you to dine with me.” The Emperor’s gaze fell to his left palm which held Fabia’s signet ring before he continued, “But I just want to be alone tonight.”
Athos fell to his knees before replying, “I completely understand my Emperor. I cannot imagine how you must be feeling after receiving such horrible news.”
Emperor Heraclius smiled faintly at Athos as the younger man looked up at him, “Report to the 5th Babylon and bring back the True Cross. We sorely need a miracle to help turn the tide against this scourge.”
Constan took the ri
ng off and then placed it in the hand of the Emperor. The two men then prostrated themselves to the Emperor and then slowly backed out of the room. Once the brass doors were closed behind them, Athos turned to Constan and said, “Praise God that’s over with.”
Constan smiled at Athos and said, “And that our heads are still attached to our bodies no less.” Constan paused a moment before adding, “At least for now.” His voice trailed off as he spoke the second sentence.
Athos opened his mouth to reply when a man in the well-worn chain armor typical of a Skutatoi appeared in front of them. He stood out as a stark contrast to the gleaming mail fashioned from metal plates worn by the Imperial Guard. The man, clicked his heels together and snapped to attention, “Tourmarches Constan?”
Constan nodded wearily, “Aye. Who wants to know?”
The man delivered a salute by forming a fist with his right hand and striking his left breast, “Kentarches Zinvor of the 5th Babylon 1st Kentarchia. I’m to escort you to your new command.”
Constan glanced and Athos and said, “They don’t waste any bloody time around here what so ever.”
Athos smiled in reply and Constan looked back at Zinvor, gestured down the hall with his left hand, and said, “Lead on Kentarches.”
Kentarches Zinvor, snapped to attention once again, turned up the hallway, and started walking. The pair followed him in silence, as they wove their way through the palace corridors. As they reached the end of the seeming maze, two immense brass plated doors were opened by a quartet of imperial guards as they approached. Emerging into the night, a crescent moon cast its silvery light down upon the white washed structures of the imperial complex. Zinvor broke the long silence by gesturing toward the east and saying, “This way.”
Without responding, the two men continued to follow the man. They crossed a white stone bridge that led over the Orontes River. The bridge had several Imperial Guards stationed on it holding torches. The river, separated the palace complex from the main part of the city. With the last of the Imperial Guards out of ear shot Constan turned to Zinvor and asked, “What happened to your Tourmarches?”
Byzantium Infected Box Set Page 77