Byzantium Infected Box Set

by James Mullins

  The group of damned drew up short of the battle line and waited until they had gathered all of their number of three hundred or so. They then let out a series of growls and howls that resembled a war cry and in unison charged the 5th Babylon’s line.

  “That’s a new behavior, are there more like Fonda amongst them, or these bastards just getting smarter in general?” Constan asked.

  “I don’t see any of them hanging back like Fonda did to keep herself out of direct danger.” Athos replied.

  “If they are getting smarter, and you combine that with the overwhelming numbers found in the hordes. There is only one way this works out.” Constan said.

  “We’re fucked.” Athos replied.

  Constan nodded, “Exactly.”

  Fortunately for the 5th Babylon, the timing of the damned seemed to be the only new aspect that this group demonstrated. They flung themselves at the battle line with the same reckless abandon that the damned at Yarmuk demonstrated. Not a single Skutatoi fell, as they were quickly dispatched.

  Constan turned in his saddle to look at Baltazar who was standing nearby with Liana, Athea, Maarika, and Nasir, “You’re up.”

  Baltazar’s face broke into a grin. Liana frowned and said, “You don’t have to be so happy about it. Why do you have to risk yourself inside the buildings?”

  “Because I have more direct experience fighting the damned than anyone.” Baltazar replied.

  “And he’s damned good at killing them.” Constan added.

  Liana rolled her eyes in response to Constan’s pun.

  “Care if I join your team, Baltazar?” Athos asked.

  “Sure, you can cover my left.” Baltazar replied.

  Athos smiled, “Thanks.”

  Athea turned to Liana and said, “What is it going to take to get those two idiots to stop volunteering for everything?”

  “Shackles and a blow to the head would probably work.” Liana said.

  The two ladies looked at each other and started giggling. It was Baltazar’s turn to roll his eyes. As he did so he said under his breath, “Women.”

  Constan started laughing and said, “Aye, I don’t envy you two having your ladies along for the fight.”

  Baltazar stepped forward and said, “Clearing group with me.” Baltazar paused for a moment and then added, “Maarika, can you join us? Your skill at the sling is always valuable when the damned are about.”

  Maarika smiled at Baltazar and said, “Need your angel to look over you?”

  Baltazar threw a glance at Liana and said, “Something like that.”

  “If she’s going, so am I.” Nasir said.

  “Suit yourself, but you two are to stay outside.” Baltazar replied.

  As Athos moved to join Baltazar’s group, he recognized one of the other men joining, “Well met, Jerry.”

  Jerry smiled, “Well met indeed, sir. I’d like to thank you and the Tourmarches for my promotion.”

  “It wasn’t me. When Constan asked Droungarios Hovig about you, it seems you were already under consideration. Your keen eyes, and the way you comported yourself when we first approached the Ferrea Gate was excellent. Wit, the likes of which you have demonstrated, seemed wasteful to have left you as a common Skutatoi. If we are to win this struggle, we will need sharp minds as well as strong arms.” Athos replied.

  “Thank you, sir.” Jerry replied.

  Baltazar loudly cleared his throat and said, “Ok listen up. When we head in, stay as silent as possible. Even though all of the loose ones should have been drawn out, I don’t want to take any chances and get us attacked from behind while we are in a fight. It would not only be a shame to end up attacked on both sides, but down right embarrassing to die right in the sight of two thousand reinforcements who will be nearby digging ditches for the marching fort. Clear?”

  The men grinned and nodded in response without saying a word, “Very good, you catch on fast.” Baltazar started walking toward the nearest of the large Inn buildings, “We’ll start with the huts on the edge of town in-between us and the Inn to ensure our rear is clear, and then start with the closest inn.”

  Again, the men nodded at the instruction without replying audibly. The only evidence of residents in the huts that they checked first, were piles of bones on the floors. After the huts were cleared and they determined their rear was cleared. Baltazar drew them up in front of the Inn.

  The large stone structure was of two stories in height shaped like a large square. The stout structure, whitewashed at some point man years ago, was made from local stone. Large sections of the whitewash had simply worn away over the years, and showed the stone used to construct the inn below. The stone had a reddish tan color to it.

  A large sign creaked softly in the breeze above the front door proclaiming it to be the Inn of the Holy Pilgrim. Above the lettering of the sign was a depiction that showed a man in brown homespun robes on his knees praying. Above him in the clouds was an angel looking down upon him and smiling. The angel’s arms reached around the man, as if to protect him.

  Baltazar whispered to the group, “Ok, eight of us are going to form a line in front of the main door here. One will bang on the door and open it, and the last will stand behind the eight in reserve and support anyone that gets in trouble. Jerry, I want that reserve person to be you. Maarika, stand off to the side between the main line and the group so you can try and kill them with your sling before any of the damned reach the line. Nasir, be nearby Maarika so you can protect her if needed, but stay out of her way so she can do her job.”

  Nasir put an arm around Maarika’s shoulders and said, “That’s why I am here.”

  Jerry nodded in response. Baltazar turned to another man, the smallest of the group and said, “Skutatoi, I want you to open the door, move to the side, and manage any of the bastards that don’t come directly at us. What’s your name?”

  “Lucius, sir.”

  “Well met, Lucius. Each of you has been recommend by your Kentarches for this task based on your wit and skill at arms. Please do not demonstrate that trust was misplaced. It will cost lives. Form up.” Baltazar said.

  Athos joined Baltazar on his left and everyone else fell into position as they were directed. When all was ready, Baltazar made eye contact with Lucius and nodded. Lucius gave Baltazar a thumbs up and then pulled on the iron door ring with one hand. It didn’t budge.

  Lucius frowned and stepped directly in front of the door. He placed both hands on the ring and then pulled with all of his strength. It still didn’t budge.

  Baltazar walked up behind him and whispered into his ear, “Break through it with your axe.”

  Lucius nodded and pulled his ax out of the holster on his back. He stepped back from the door to give himself enough room to swing the ax and then delivered the first blow. The loud thump, echoed off the mud brick buildings of the hamlet as Baltazar grimaced over the noise.

  Lucius turned to Baltazar and without saying a word implored with his eyes. Baltazar whispered, “The noise can’t be helped, continue until you have the door open, or I yell stop.”

  Lucius nodded and began swinging his ax at the door. He quickly fell into a rhythm, as a steady thump, thump, thump reverberated across the hamlet. At first his blows yielded nothing but a few stray splinters, then larger chunks of wood started to break off and fell to the ground at his feet. Baltazar could hear the muffled cries of the damned from within the inn, as Lucius continued. His thumps were soon joined by bangs from some of the other buildings as the damned struggled to free themselves. The undead were desperate to make their way to the source of the noise.

  With a final loud crack, a large piece of the door fell away reveling the bar that held it in place. Three more swings from Lucius put an end to the bar and the two doors slowly swung open on their own. Lucius spent several moments peering nervously into the gloom. Get out of the damn way. Baltazar thought to himself. He was reluctantly to call out least he cause the very thing he was fearful of happening.

&n
bsp; Seeing nothing, Lucius turned to Baltazar and shrugged his shoulders. As he started the shoulder shrug he was tackled from behind by an overweight damned and fell face first toward the ground. He landed with a grunt as all of the air was forced out of his lungs.

  Lucius tried to roll to his left to break the grip of the undead on his back. It didn’t work. The damned, dressed in shabby thread bare clothing, and an apron heavily stained with a mixture of food stains and blood, must have been a cook during his life. The obese undead, found the seam between Lucius’ helm and his armor, and sank his teeth into the flesh on the back of his neck.

  Lucius cried out in pain as the damned fed. Before anyone in the line could react, Maarika, fired a bullet with her sling at the fat man. The man’s hunger in death seemed to be the equal of his hunger in life. With a sickly wet crack, the specially made lead bullet impacted the damned’s skull and imbedded itself in the creature’s brain. The filthy fat damned, immediately stopped moving.

  Lucius looked up at Baltazar, “It hurts, sir.”

  Baltazar glanced at the darkness beyond the open door and said, “I’m sorry, Lucius.”

  Lucius nodded, “I’m sorry, too. I’ve heard about the things you have done, the trials you have survived. I just wanted to be strong like you.”

  Baltazar tried to give Lucius a reassuring smile, “You are, Lucius, you are.”

  Baltazar threw a glance at the open portal behind Lucius and the darkness beyond. Coming to a decision he drew the dagger from a holster on his right hip and began moving toward Lucius, “I’m sorry I have to do this, Lucius, but you don’t have long.”

  Lucius gave Baltazar a weak smile, “I understand, sir. I saw what happens to those who are bit in Joppa.” He paused a moment and took a shallow breath, “I feel cold, sir.”

  Baltazar kneeled down in front of Lucius and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “You will be in heaven soon, with our Lord Jesus Christ, and those you love who have preceded you.”

  Lucius smiled and closed his eyes, “I’m ready, sir.”

  As Baltazar moved to stab Lucius in the back of the head, a figure came hurtling out of the gloom, slammed into his right side, and sent him sprawling into the dirt.”

  In the confusion Baltazar lost his dagger. He smelled putrid flesh, and fetid breath. A snarling hungry beast had taken ahold of him. As he came to rest on his back, his eyes locked on the pupil less gray orbs of the damned that had tackled him. Those eyes, despite their lack of anything except a soulless gray void, seemed to convey rage to him. Rage that the person that looked down upon him had become this horrible thing, and he yet lived.

  The moment quickly passed and sharp teeth moved in to feast upon Baltazar’s soft flesh. Baltazar closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. God, please watch over Liana.

  He took a breath as the moment passed. I yet live? Baltazar opened his eyes, and saw those same milky gray eyes looking into his, but now they were completely lifeless. A trickle of purple blood where the sling bullet had smashed into the side of its skull dripped on him. Maarika. As Baltazar used his arms to get the corpse off of him, he heard another growl and looked up into Lucius’ lifeless eyes. Baltazar’s eyes locked on Lucius’ as he watched the pupils of his eyes slowly disappeared into the milky gray murk.

  Lucius snarled and lunged toward Baltazar’s prone form. Before he could take a step, blood and brain matter exploded from the right side of his head, as Maarika’s sling bullet put an end to Lucius’ second life. Taking a deep breath in relief Baltazar stood and said, “Thanks, Maarika, for being my guardian angel yet again.”

  Maarika smiled and nodded in response. Meanwhile Nasir raged and tried to quiet the jealous voice within himself. Why do I feel this way? She loves me. He is clearly in love with another. It makes no sense to have these emotions well up inside me every time someone gives her a compliment. It’s hard to quiet the jealous voices within my head. She’s so beautiful and surrounded by all of these men, I’m afraid of losing her.

  Baltazar’s team waited for several more minutes to see if any additional damned would emerge from the inn, none did, “Athos, if you’ll join me on my left. Jerry, light a torch and follow right behind us. The light will help us see, but it will also draw them out.” Baltazar said.

  Jerry nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

  It wasn’t long before Jerry was able to fashion a torch out of materials on hand. He drained some oil from a lamp he found in the nearby stable, and tore some cloth from a saddle blanket. Once he had the ingredients, within less than a minute, he had the torch lit using a piece flint and his dagger

  Without further instruction to the remainder of the team, Baltazar and Athos entered the inn followed by Jerry bearing the torch. The first room was large and had several exits. There were tables surrounded by wooden chairs distributed evenly throughout the room. On the far side of the room was a bar. Behind the bar, were several different amphorae, neat rows of clay jugs to pour the contents of the amphorae into, and rows of nails embedded in the walls. Several of the nails had what must have been room keys hanging from them.

  The left side of the room was dominated by a large fireplace that stood unlit, and on the same wall in the corner behind the bar was an entrance to what was likely the kitchen. Directly across from Baltazar and Athos was a doorway that must have led to the other parts of the inn. Like many of the spaces occupied by the damned, the walls, tables, and bar was intermittently covered in blood and gore.

  Baltazar stood on the threshold for several moments and simply listened. He heard nothing. He moved slowly to the left of the entrance and slowly made his way around the room to ensure there were no surprises to be left behind them once they swept the room and moved onto the rest of the inn. He drew the ax from his back, made eye contact with Jerry, and gestured to behind the bar. Understanding Baltazar’s intent, Jerry held the torch higher and extended it over the bar.

  Baltazar circled around to the right side of the bar and looked behind it. Smiling he whispered, “All clear. Let’s move into the kitchen and clear it as well. This is probably the only entrance and exit to the kitchen from the rest of the inn. Once we have secured this area, we can move through the rest of the building, room by room.”

  Everyone in the group nodded to indicate that they heard and understood what Baltazar had just said. The space behind the bar only enabled passage by one person at a time, so Baltazar moved forward as Athos and then Jerry followed him. The last two Skutatoi in the line, remained behind to guard the door to the unsecured portion of the inn as the rest fell in behind the line heading into the kitchen.

  Baltazar slowly pushed back the curtain that separated the entry room from the passageway that led to the kitchen from the bar with his ax as he held his shield aloft to guard against any surprises. He was greeted by a shadowy passageway. Light from outside, shown intermittently through the cracks in the building. The passageway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the inn was perhaps ten feet in length.

  Baltazar quickly crossed the ten feet that separated the two spaces. Reaching the end of the passageway, he moved the curtain aside. He braced himself for a damned attack, but none came. The faint light coming from an exterior door across the kitchen from him illuminated the outline of the room. The light streamed through gaps in the rickety looking door, and helped to illuminate the dim interior of the building.

  As Baltazar took a few steps into the room, Athos moved to protect his left side, and Jerry entered behind them. The torch light revealed a house of horrors. In what must have been a food prep area, the putrid, rotting, and partially eaten remains of someone had grasped the edges of the wooden table with their hands. Their upper torso was laid out on the food prep table as if it was they who was being chopped up and served for dinner.

  From Baltazar’s vantage point, only the upper torso of the person was visible. The flesh had rotted off most of the head and the jaw of the white skull was contorted into a position that indicated the person died screamin
g. Baltazar, his heart racing, slowly rounded the corner to see the rest of the person’s remains. They ended just below the edge of the table.

  Baltazar was forced to stifle the urge to vomit as he saw why this person hadn’t been reborn as a damned. The back of their skull was missing and their brains had been scooped out and consumed. This person must have been eaten alive and died screaming. Baltazar thought to himself.

  He involuntarily shivered and made the sign of the cross. Before whispering, “God, may no one I cherish meet such an end as this.

  The three men slowly moved around the rest of the kitchen as the five remaining Skutatoi of the group entered the room. In addition to the exterior door, the kitchen had a stone staircase that led down into what was likely the wine cellar. Taking a deep breath, Baltazar started to move down the steps, followed by Athos and Jerry.

  The faint light coming from Jerry’s torch several stairs back wasn’t enough to push back the gloom so Baltazar moved slowly forward to allow his eyes to adjust. As they did so, the impenetrable wall of darkness morphed into the shadowy outline of the cellar.

  Baltazar reached the bottom of the stairs and took a few steps into the cellar. To his immediate right a loud screech erupted. Reacting from reflex and a shot of pure adrenaline that fired into his blood stream, he swung his ax to his right. The steel blade of the ax clanged as it struck the stone of the wall and sent a vibration up his right arm that numbed his wrist and elbow.

  He leaped back to give himself some space from the threat and brought his shield toward the source of the noise as the sounds of several axes being drawn could be heard from behind him. There was no damned. Confused, he looked down to see a large rat baring its teeth at him. Breathing a sigh of relief, he said, “That rat nearly caused me to piss myself.”

  The rest of the group chuckled at Baltazar’s words, and Athos opened his mouth to respond when a dark shadowy figure tackled Baltazar from behind. Baltazar was pushed to the cold stone floor by the unexpected weight on his back. It was Athos’ turn to react out of adrenaline and reflex. As Baltazar collapsed in front of him, he swung his ax at the dark figure atop his friend. The blade connected with flesh and bone and cleaved through it. As Baltazar struck the ground Athos, who maintained a firm grip on the handle of his ax, used gravity to pull it free. He raised it to strike again, but there was no need.