Of Armor And Bone

by Sean Clark

  The commander watched as the fire wicked its way over the overhanging roofs that had been constructed much too close together. The road was just a few buildings away, but the fire had almost created an impassable wall. Kiaren caught sight of something sticking out of the mud. Her eyes burned with the smoke and flecks of ash dancing in the air. With a quick breath, she pulled the furs up over her body and rushed through the licking flames. The rancid smell of charred fur floated to her nostrils as she rolled clear of the fire.

  Buried in the mud of the road, one of her soldiers laid. Despite the suit of armor, that worn by the first platoon, the man had been stabbed all the way through by a thin blade. Another soldier rested not too far from the first body. Kiaren pursed her lips as she turned the man, pale faced, over on his stomach to hide the set of cold, dead eyes.

  Down one of the streets not too far from the training grounds, Shiloh had spotted a pile of men slumped up against each other. He swallowed hard to hold back the disgust hanging in the back of his throat. Before he could turn away, something moved from underneath the pile. “Ma’am, over here!” Shiloh shouted, hoping that the commander would hear.

  Kiaren ran down one of the nearby streets after the voice. In the distance, there was a loud crack of a burning timber separating itself from the rest of its structure. The ground could barely be seen under the pile of bodies and shed blood. Some of the fallen men belonged to the platoon that she had ordered to form up the previous evening. Others looked as if they had been caught asleep and had only awoke to fight back against the attacker.

  Shiloh spotted the commander around the corner. He stood atop one of the piles of men. “There’s someone alive down here.” He signaled. He continued to pull at the unmoving body of the armored guard. Kiaren treaded lightly upon the corpses and approached Shiloh to help uncover the survivor.

  An exasperated sigh was released as the final corpse was moved away. Below, one of the guards lay pinned against the wall. The metal plate had been dented in against his chest, and his breath was strained. The man’s eyes lit up as Kiaren leaned down to pull him up. “Commander,” he choked out. “I can’t breathe. I think… I think my clavicle is broken too.”

  “We’ll get you out of here, soldier.” Kiaren comforted the man. She bent down quickly and wrapped her arm under his and propped him up against her side. The smoke entered her lungs as she attempted to catch her breath. Shiloh quickly cut the leather straps that buckled the halves of the man’s smashed chest plate. The armor fell to the ground with a clatter. The man’s limp legs rolled behind him as Kiaren continued to drag him out of the alleyway. With Shiloh in tow, they stumbled out to the main street as the fire threatened to catch up with them.

  Exhausted, the commander dumped the man on the ground as they reached the clear section of the town. “I owe you my life, commander.” The soldier wheezed. He crumpled down on the ground holding his shoulder.

  “What happened here?” Shiloh interrogated him as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Demons.” The guard shuddered.

  “Demons?” Kiaren confirmed his statement. She crouched down to the ground and eyed him. “What do you mean by demons?”

  The man wheezed loudly. “A group of men… probably two… three… maybe more.”

  “How does a group that small do all that?” Shiloh said incredulously as he looked up at the commander. “And to get past us, while we were on watch too.”

  “Armor… impenetrable.” The man mumbled and his eyes begun to drift closed. “Too strong… for us.”

  Kiaren felt the man’s chest for a heartbeat. His lungs rose and fell with his breathing. The commander looked up at Shiloh, whose face shined with dirt and perspiration. She bared her teeth and seethed.

  “You must calm yourself, Ma’am.” Shiloh stopped her as her breathing became more forced. “We must first try the best we can to find more survivors and try to stop these fires. Only then we can give thought to these men called… demons.”

  Chapter Six: Heart of Darkness

  “This is unthinkable!” Bently seethed. His deep voice rattled through the loose-knit forest. Around them, the early morning rays of sunlight pierced the thin canopy of mostly barren ash trees. The cold wind rattled the branches above. Bently continued to pace. His feet crunched the leaves below as his gaze moved back and forth around the edge of the forest. Many meters away, the Tuleforian settlement smoldered.

  Kensley knelt next to Mandabus’ body. He pushed the hair off his own forehead as he studied the motionless set of armor that once held onto their captain. Scarborough stared out back at the forest and the plumes of smoke that had begun to diffuse into the air.

  “When we received these, we were told that this armor would protect us from any attack one could conjure up, weren’t we?” Bently continued. He huffed loudly and kicked bits of fallen foliage with his heavy boot.

  Kensley hummed patiently. “That is what we were told.” The lieutenant pondered absentmindedly. They had dragged the unmoving body down the slope and into the forest. Scarborough had trailed the group to make sure nobody had caught them fleeing away from the settlement.

  Bently turned and stomped towards Kensley. “How can you be so calm? We were told lies!” He cried out, shoving his hand at the body that lay on the ground.

  “Scar, tell us again what you saw.” Kensley said as he turned towards the skinny man, ignoring Bently.

  Scarborough pushed himself off the side of the tree and turned back slowly towards the group. “It was…” He mumbled absentmindedly. His eyes looked Mandabus up and down. The once brilliant set of armor had become dull with a layer of mud and grime. Bits of the metal gleamed with an oily tint. “That mage-” Scarborough muttered slowly. “He wielded an energy I have never felt in all my life. When I struck him… I felt as if my sword was consumed by a great weight. When I finally was able to pull away from that attack… it was like the energy had been sapped from my being.”

  Kensley turned up at Bently to check for his reaction to the description. Bently returned an equally puzzled look. “Well, what shall we do then?” Kensley asked expectantly. He pushed at the captain’s helmet to turn his head back and forth.

  “You’re asking me?” Bently retorted loudly and broke eye contact with the lieutenant. “You outrank me. All I can do is await your orders.”

  “Keep it down, both of you.” Scarborough returned with a hiss. His gaze continued to dart around towards the edge of the trees.

  “This damn suit of armor… impossible to tell if there are any signs of life still about. Not even the faintest of breaths.” Kensley shuddered and stood up quickly from the fallen body. “Trying to peak through the helmet is like looking into the void itself.”

  “That’s another part of the enchantment we were told.” Bently mulled. “Only the wearer can remove the armor.”

  “That must mean that he is still alive in there, no?” Kensley interjected. He leaned back and sent a loud kick into the side of Mandabus’ armor.

  “What do you take me for?” Bently argued back loudly. “I don’t know any better than you. Once we drag his body back home, we may ask!”

  The darkness swirled around in a maelstrom of cold energy that held the man captive in its currents. In the distance, the sound of voices moving back and forth echoed.

  “That isn’t going to be so easy now.” Kensley whispered defensively. “We were supposed to return the way we came as soon as we finished ridding ourselves of anybody who might trail us. There’s no way we could go that way unnoticed now.”

  “We should return and finish the mission, then bring Mandabus back home.” Bently announced boldly. He stomped his foot at the ground and reached for his sheathed sword at his back.

  Scarborough looked back again warily. “Listen to yourself, Ben.” He said cautiously. “You don’t sound right. What has the taste of blood done to you?”

  “You know that wasn’t the mission.” Kensley announced, shifting about. “Either we find the
remnant and stop Tulefore from taking it, or we exit quietly. You said it yourself, there was nothing there.” He finished and pointed down at the fallen man.

  “We’ve come this far. We should finish what we started.” Bently shot back in a shrill tone. “At least take revenge!”

  The sounds of his comrade’s voices rolled around in Mandabus’ ears. His extremities were cold and his body felt light, as if it were floating. His throat felt dry and he could not find the proper strength to move his tongue or lips. The feeling of the once restrictive set of armor had disappeared. The sound of voices moved back and forth. The droll of their complaining agitated his senses. The world around him slowly faded in from black. The sky was a dark gray that was broken up by a spider web of dark tendrils that seemed to surround him.

  “We’re not far from the pass. We must start our return before we are in full daylight.” Kensley snapped. “That is my order.”

  Mandabus shot up from the ground and grabbed at Kensley’s bare neck. With one arm, the captain picked him up and pushed him back against one of the large ash trees.

  “Captain!” Scarborough turned around just in time to see Kensley’s body jerk as it came into contact with the bark of the tree.

  “Mandabus!” Bently cried out. He hurriedly ran and attempted to free Kensley from the unrelenting grasp. The captain’s loud, low growls echoed inside the helmet. Kensley grabbed at the wrist that held him tightly against the rough surface of the timber. His breathing became strained and his face slowly turned a dark shade of red.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Bently shouted as he attempted to pull the captain away. Scarborough pulled at Mandabus’s other arm and shoved against his side. Kensley sputtered and struggled, teeth bared and boots kicking helplessly.

  With a loud growl, Mandabus shook his head and dropped Kensley from his grasp. He quickly turned back around to search for the sword that had disappeared from his side. His eyes met with those of Scarborough, who had already recoiled with a look of fright and defeat on his face. Bently had taken a few cautious steps backwards as well.

  “Captain, it’s just us!” Bently warned and waved his hand out in front of him.

  Mandabus released a long, deep growl before turning around to look down upon Kensley. The lieutenant held his throat and sucked down a strained breath. “Ken…sley…” Mandabus found his voice. “Where are we…?” The captain asked as he looked around.

  “Down outside the Tuleforian settlement.” Bently explained.

  “That mage… where did he go?” Mandabus growled and awaited the answer, his fingers twitching.

  Scarborough took a deep breath before responding. “Disappeared. I attempted to fight back after you collapsed… but he held some strange power. He then took off on a horse.”

  “I see.” Mandabus muttered lowly without the others able to hear.

  Kensley stood up carefully. He rubbed his throat before speaking up. “We’re simply glad that you’re still with us, sir.”

  Mandabus held his gloved hand up in front of his face. The daylight appeared gray to him, as if they colors had been drained from the world. The forest around him was dull and lifeless. Along the base of a tree was a puddle, frozen over. He stiffly shifted closer to it and looked down at the blurry reflection. The heavy plates of his armor seemed to extrude a dark energy around him, invisible except within the reflection.

  Mandabus positioned his body, looking away from the others and off into the deep forest. He carefully unbuckled his glove and slid it out from the armor plating at his wrist. The hand was taught with sallow skin, seemingly devoid of circulation. The joints in his fingers refused to move. The air brought a feeling both frigid and dull, but with a sharp sensation running between the conjunction of each joint. He carefully slid the gauntlet back over his hand, and the foreign pain suddenly stopped. He wriggled his fingers back into the tight leather glove and plated sections of the armor. Though he could see his hand moving, he could no longer feel it resting inside of the armor.

  Behind him, he could see the cold clouds of breath exiting from the others mouth’s, but from his, none seemed to be produced.

  Kensley stepped close to Mandabus and looked him in the eyes with a curious look. The captain’s unblinking gaze gave no indication of emotion. “Where is my sword?” Mandabus asked coldly.

  Scarborough pulled the sling off his shoulder that held the scabbard and the captain’s bastard sword. He trembled slightly as he approached Mandabus with the object held out towards him. The captain grabbed it and slid it over his back.

  “You will tell the general that I was killed and was not able to be recovered.” Mandabus announced. “You are in charge now, lieutenant.”

  Kensley folded his arms in front of him. “I can’t allow that.”

  “Who are you to order me?” Mandabus huffed.

  “You just forfeited your command, Sir.” Kensley countered.

  “You will find it in your best interest to return home now, as you said yourself.”

  “Captain-” Scarborough spoke up. “Hasn’t there been enough bloodshed today? You had a close call yourself.”

  “It’s that blood I intend to shed.” Mandabus growled. “That mage is still alive, no? Cowardly, yet he conjured an attack that could penetrate this armor we were given. Do you think a power like that should be present on the battlefield when otherwise we ourselves would be able to strike down any enemy from here all the way to Tulefore City?”

  “He escaped on horseback.” Bently interjected. “You’ll never reach him on foot.”

  “I’ll follow him all the way to their capital if I must.” Mandabus answered coldly, before turning his back to the group.

  “To hell with you, then.” Kensley said, turning towards the mountains. “Scar, Bently, we must go now. Leave this fool.”

  Chapter Seven: Those Who Remain

  The late afternoon sun had melted the low fog away, and the light wind had pushed many of the remaining clouds out of the sky. The horse under Terren’s reins huffed and snorted loudly with each elongated stride. The animal’s nostrils flared wide following every breath, letting out clouds of condensation that quickly disappeared behind them. The sides of his shins pattered against its sides that fluttered with the pumping of the animal’s heart.

  Out of his peripheral vision, Terren could spot the other riders attempting to keep pace. Ahead on the road laid Lyeys Ridge, the point at which they would head down into the Sing Valley. The hot sun hitting his back stung the skin of his neck. Below his collar, he could feel the sweat starting to pool and soak into the cloak. The rhythmic jostling of the horse below him played against his exhaustion and he struggled to keep his eyes open.

  Kiaren collapsed on the ground with a huff. For the first time that day, she could feel the cold air arouse the hairs on her bare arms. She attempted to cover up her shiver with a sharp breath. Her legs ached and her toes had gone mostly numb in the cold. With a heavy blink, she caught Shiloh glancing her way before turning back to his work. After another breath, she pushed herself back to her feet.

  Shiloh continued to toss up mounds of dirt on the smoldering ashes with the spade. The commander stumbled his way, hefting an open jug of water on her back. “Ma’am.” he said, looking up at Kiaren’s smudged, dirty face. “You may rest now. Please, keep your strength.”

  “I’m fine.” Kiaren shrugged and sloshed more of the water upon the side of the building. “If we allow more smoke to escape from here, we may continue to draw more undue attention.” She sighed. “We don’t want Xiandol to think we are taking such an attack lightly.”

  “You think it is Xiandol, then?” Shiloh pursed his lips and peered up at the sky between the space in the roofs overhead. The gray smoke had dissipated into a dull cloud that hung low in the blue winter sky. “If you wish to show them rebuttal to the best of your ability, do it with a clear head and rested body.” He declared.

  At the top of the ridge, Terren yanked his horse to a stop. In the coo
l, light breeze, he caught the scent of smoke on the air. The other riders slowed to a halt beside him. The following guard lifted his hand in the air to signal the others following to stop. Terren’s eyes studied the horizon.

  “Is something the matter, Sir?” One of the nearby riders prodded him.

  “You smell the smoke, soldier?” Terren asked. The mountain range dominated the horizon. The faint white peaks pierced the air, but the settlement lay hidden still beyond the tall trees.

  “The air seems a bit thick with it, yeah?” The man nodded slowly.

  “It’s not like the smell from a campfire.” Terren said with clenched teeth. “I fear what we will find upon arrival.” With a quick couple of taps with his heels, the horse reared up to turn back in course. Terren leaned into the slope as the group took off.

  Kiaren rubbed the damp cloth up the sides of her face. The water was frigid, but the moisture felt soothing against her dry skin and lips. She peered down at her boots that were caked with a combination of mud, flecks of gray ash, and blood. The survivors that had been forced out of the burning buildings were huddled at the barracks grounds, gathered around the fire. Some of the men and women stared at the flame blank-faced. The sudden rumbling beneath Kiaren’s feet caused her to shoot up from the ground in surprise. She quickly turned to look back at the mountain, then out at the valley.

  Others had noticed the rumbling, and had stood to look for the source. The bright sun had long passed overhead, and Kiaren could now see out in the direction of Tulefore to the east. A cloud of dust had risen up along the road. She began to slog towards the gate of the settlement as the cloud approached.

  Terren spotted the sight of the black and burnt blocks of the town. The horse continued to rush forward at a strained speed, but as he spotted the figure at the gate, he urged the animal to a slower pace. He finally skidded to a halt just in front of the outer walls and jumped off to greet the commander waiting for him.