‘Only what was worth stealing,’ Carina answered.
‘And that was?’
‘Only two books, which we replaced,’ Rigel answered honestly. ‘It will take them a while to figure it out, if they ever do.’
Finn nodded, as if weighing up his options. ‘Two books is alright I think. It’s not like you emptied out the entire room.’
‘Show him your dagger Rigel,’ Carina prompted.
Finn looked anxiously at him. ‘What did you smuggle out of there? Clearly the prize isn’t that piece of shit.’
Rigel handed the dagger over without ceremony. Finn turned it over in his hands, scrutinising the sheath first. Then he pulled the blade out by the plain hilt to reveal the red tempered steel. Finn stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth open.
‘Boy …’
‘I was as surprised as you are,’ Carina said. ‘Who knew he had such an eye for treasure.’
Rigel shrugged with a smile. ‘I’m not just a pretty face.’
Carina and Finn laughed, Finn almost doubled over and Carina wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.
‘I’m hurt, you two should know better,’ Rigel mocked.
‘Ah Rig,’ Carina said, clasping his head between her hands, ‘I always knew you were something special.’
Pollux heard his name called over the sounds of the battle and removed himself from the front line as Sergeant Field, who was recently out of the infirmary, hurtled toward him and screamed something about archers, pointing back toward the mountainside. Pollux gazed out under his hand and could make out the shadows amongst the rocks and the arrows sailing through the sky.
‘Fucking hell,’ he muttered under his breath.
He turned, looking for Ara, but found no one other than his soldiers. He remembered their earlier conversation about her casting from the tower top and silently cursed himself for forgetting.
Turning to the sergeant he ordered, ‘Organise ten men and meet me in the courtyard below. We are going up into the mountains to get rid of them. You have five minutes to be fully armed and ready.’
Field nodded and Pollux took off toward the internal staircase, racing past the fighting on the walls. Lava Orbs erupted from Ara’s hands when he emerged into the daylight and the screams of the dying found his ears.
‘I need a favour,’ he said, grabbing hold of her arm.
‘Spit it out, I don’t have time to waste talking.’
‘I need to get ten men up onto the mountainside to deal with enemy archers.’
‘I can only teleport them one at a time, I still haven’t figured out how to do it on masse.’
‘I can deal with that. Sergeant Field is asking for volunteers right now. They are assembling in the courtyard in three minutes. I’ll be down there myself just as soon as I’ve spoken to Octans.’
Pollux took off before Ara had the chance to reply, knowing that she would be there for him — even if she was helping to send him to his death. He passed Cygnus on the left half of the rampart and headed further along where the fighting was the heaviest, exactly where Octans would be defending. His friend was pushing himself to be where he was needed, whether it was amongst the Howlers or any of the remaining Buckthorne units.
‘I’m going to deal with our problem in the mountains. Look after things until I get back.’
Octans nodded and went back into it, swinging his sword down onto some bastard’s head. Pollux managed to grab hold of a runner, the young man’s arm in a sling. ‘Octans is in charge until I return. Inform the men.’
He hurried to the rendezvous where Sergeant Field stood at the front of the selected men, all ready to go.
Ara teleported down the instant Pollux came to a stop before the men, looked between the soldiers and the mountain, then grabbed Field by the shoulder. They were gone an instant later. Ara returned by herself, grabbed the next man in line and went again. After the seventh had gone Ara came back, a worried look in her eyes.
‘They have found the enemy,’ she reported, grabbing another and going again.
‘Get me there now,’ Pollux ordered after Ara had come and gone another three times depositing his men somewhere in the mountains.
Ara put a hand on the side of his face and suddenly he was in the mountains with her lips pressed against his.
‘Do you want me to stay?’
‘No you’re needed elsewhere. Just make sure you come get us when we need you.’
With that Ara was gone and he instantly dropped to one knee and looked around. The sounds of clashing steel were close by and came from multiple directions at once. He guessed Ara had split up the troops to give them a better chance. Hopefully some of them were still alive.
Racing toward the closest combat, Pollux struck a Kyzantine in the back and moved on, leaving his soldier to catch up. Screams filled the air as the enemy called for reinforcements and the Murukans did their best to silence the shouts.
Pollux kept moving, forced himself along an obvious path that he suspected would leave him very vulnerable to attack. Two Kyzantines came running toward him, swords raised above their heads. He sidestepped the first blow, impaled the first in the stomach and as he wrenched his blade free the second was taken by the man following.
Following the distinct sounds of battle he left the path and pushed further around to the left out to a precipice. What he saw surprised him. Three men dressed in mercenary colours were crouched by the edge, looking out over the battle below. Kyzantine corpses lay behind them and the blades the men carried were slick with blood.
Before Pollux could move, one of his men came thundering out onto the edge, screaming as he raised his blade to attack. Two of the men turned and stood, adopting battle stances before one carved his blade through the man’s chest.
Pollux locked eyes with the other warrior, his heart pumping furiously from the adrenalin coursing through his system. There was a moment of recognition, an adversary worth killing, and the man moved to engage. Pollux stepped forward as the sergeant and another soldier raced past, blood frenzied, and swung their blades at the enemy.
Pollux leapt after them, tried to fight the silently issued challenge, but the sergeant got there before him. He turned to engage the other advancing mercenary when an arrow flew past his head. The Kyzantine archers had decided to wipe out both groups while they distracted each other and had moved in for the kill.
Turning, he drilled his sword through the chest of the closest, the steel punching out the man’s back and showering his companion in blood and gore. Denied the opponent he really wanted to fight, Pollux went after the Kyzantines with vigour.
Soon the precipice was chaotic, with all three factions involved in the life or death struggle. Pollux monitored the situation behind him. The three mercenaries were a concern. The swordsman was still engaged with the sergeant and now two of his men, the other with the battle axe had run off to deal with the approaching Kyzantines. But the third, smaller man had still not moved from the cliff edge, continuing his vigil over the battle below.
With another dead Kyzantine at his feet, Pollux was about to rejoin the battle when he noticed the two archers on the rocky platform above. With frantic speed he launched himself up the path to their position and hoped they wouldn’t see him coming. The sound of the bow strings snapping thundered in his ears as his legs pounded across the dirt and rocks.
His blade tore through the first archer’s arm, his second strike hit the other under the chin before he turned and finished the first off. Pulling his gore-covered blade from the man’s chest he looked below to see that Field was still going toe to toe with his intended target with the aid of one of the others. The fighter with the axe had charged into another group of Kyzantines further along the outskirts. Horns bleated in the distance and Pollux knew that more of the bastards were coming.
The soldier fighting alongside Field took a stray arrow through the back and fell to his knees, and the swordsman immediately went after the sergeant. Pollux realised the man must have been toying with the two as Field retreated under the quick heavy blows. Within seconds the fight had turned and the blade was knocked from the sergeant’s hands.
The armoured mercenary twirled the blade in his hands and drove it down through the sergeant’s collarbone.
‘Field!’ Pollux cried out.
The sounds of the Kyzantine reinforcements hammered in his ears as they grew closer but he didn’t care. Leaping from his position above, he landed on one knee and got up running toward the swordsman. The man braced himself for the impact as Pollux rained down blow after blow, screaming as the swords sparked against each other.
Oblivious to the approaching Kyzantines, Pollux focused on his opponent and ignored the fact that his companions were coming over. The blade cut from side to side and was blocked as easily as it was countered. It wasn’t until he noticed the hand on the swordsman’s shoulder that Pollux blinked in disbelief and all three men were gone, his blade slicing through open air.
Pollux was worried. Who were these three new players? He came up here to fight Kyzantines and what he got was a headache. He hoped Ara could explain how the three blokes could just disappear into thin air without a mage around.
Exhausted and defeated, Pollux spun around to search for the mercenaries but there was no sign of them. The Kyzantines were getting closer by the sounds of things and he needed to not be here when they arrived.
Dropping to one knee beside Field’s body, Pollux ran his hand over the soldier’s eyes and closed them. He had been the one to promote Field to sergeant, he had seen something in the lad, the way he handled himself up on the wall. Since then he had been in and out of the infirmary, always eager to get back to his men. Now another good man had died.
Pollux slowly rose as the noise of the approaching Kyzantines startled him from his reverie. He looked down at the fallen bodies of the men he led up here, cringed at the thought of leaving them for the enemy and the carrion, but he really had little choice. Taking one last deep breath he turned and ran, hoping that Ara would hear his thoughts and come get him before he was run down amongst the rocks.
Pyxis stared at the barricade’s tower, its flag drifting in the breeze. It had been two days since the cavalry had come out of the gates. She stood in the shade of the only tree in the pass, daring the knights to come out and claim her. But the men on the walls stood like gargoyles, waiting, watching. Where was the cavalry charge? Where were those relentless knights who butchered her peasants and called themselves warriors? This was unsettling. The lack of bloodshed was worrisome. Without fighting and dying there was no war. This would not do at all.
Pyxis stalked back around the bend in the pass, kicking at the rocks on the ground. Her troops stared at her, hidden behind their shields, spears propped upwards toward the sky. She stooped to pick up a small stone and hurled it toward one of the soldiers. He ducked below his shield as it bounced off. Conscripts — never did last. She scooped up another and took a second shot.
Sending that lot of rabble to the wall in an effort to take it would prove a mistake. The numbers she had behind her meant nothing, for they had the advantage of the wall. At least in the pass they had a good chance of taking down the cavalry each time they came out, and she had finally managed to get the archers set up in positions on the mountainside overlooking the pass.
Cunx walked over, each stride full of confidence. Full armour, blade by his side. Unstoppable.
‘General.’
Pyxis turned, looked briefly back over the cowards, watching them shirk away in terror. Smiling she turned to Cunx.
‘What is it?’
‘I was just wondering whether we were going to spend another day standing around waiting for them?’
‘Your point?’
‘Finding a more productive use of our time.’
‘Our time?’
‘Well, general, your time is best given to terrifying the troops, but they might serve a purpose by attacking the barricade.’
‘I do scare them, don’t I? But nevertheless, my fun is at an end. We have a war to win. Let’s take this barricade.’ Pyxis’ words did not betray her thoughts. These soldiers would not make it to the wall. Nevertheless the barricade had to fall to get them through to the Kingdom so even if she had to throw all of these soldiers and more at it, it would be done.
‘Yes, general.’
Cunx ran off, ordered the other commanders to rally the troops. Drums began to beat in a steady rhythm. Pyxis picked up another stone and threw it at the irritating soldier. Finally the missile hit its mark, scalding the man in the side of the head. Pyxis smiled and walked to the squire holding the reins of her horse.
Putting one foot in the stirrup, she heaved herself into the saddle and snatched the reins from offered hands. Riding up to the commanders of her forces she stopped in front of their little party.
‘I want a full assault. Don’t stop until the barricade is ours.’
She remained motionless as the call was passed along the line and the commanders and their troops filed past her.
Her mind raced. The cavalry would be useless unless the Murukans actually charged out and she doubted that they would. The infantry pressed forward in lines, becoming erratic as they rounded the bend in the path. Under the order of the commanders they straightened and kept going forward.
A trumpet sounded a warning and Pyxis watched the shadows on the wall multiply and grow. They ran along the barricade’s length and stopped about a metre apart, each armed with bows.
Pyxis stopped short of the firing range of the Murukan long bows but her infantry kept up the pace. They raised their shields as the arrows began to rain down, taking each deliberate step. Moving across the killing ground, the infantry went to their deaths. Men and women fell as arrows slipped through their defence. Marching over the dead they hit the wall in their thousands. Ladders scaled the walls. The battering ram smashed against the gate.
The enemy clearly had the advantage defending the walls but Pyxis had the numbers. The Empire would strike. Ladders found purchase along the wall and soldiers climbed to engage with the enemy. Those that breached the Murukan defence leaped over the stone, ducking and weaving away from the steady downpour of blows, and landed on the rampart. Pyxis watched as one after another of her troops were cut down as they neared the top or stood on the stone fortifications to have their legs cut away from underneath them, their bodies tumbling back to the dirt below. The handful that made it pushed forward to desperately try to give others time to get up there and support them.
Pyxis tilted her head at the sound of horses and wondered whether she had imagined it, just hoping that the enemy cavalry were charging. Her eyes widened as she steadily looked over the landscape but … nothing.
Her ears betrayed her again but it was Cunx and a messenger who appeared beside her. They both looked worried, the messenger’s forehead covered with sweat caused by the summer heat or the disturbing news.
‘Well Cunx, what is it?’ she snapped.
‘Supply caravans crossing the Derelict Plains have been attacked by a Murukan cavalry force. They are slaughtering everyone and pillaging our resources.’
‘What?! How did they get through? None of the passes have fallen have they?’ Pyxis demanded.
‘No, general,’ the messenger replied. ‘We have breached the Musea Pass and the stalemate remains at Black Claw Gate.’
‘Then how did they get through?!’ She threw her helmet at the messenger.
He shuddered under the blow as it hit his arm. ‘I have no idea general, please calm yourself.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ she screamed, drawing her blade.
Cunx kicked his horse’s flanks and intercepted the two quarrelling parties. ‘What are your orders Pyxis? What do you want us to do about the cavalry?’
With her blade outstretched, Pyxis turned her attention to her second. As she spoke the messenger urged his mount backwards, gaining valuable breathing room.
‘Find me someone to replace Fizdis. Then organise my troops, we ride as soon as I feel the replacement can handle the attack.’
Cunx nodded and rode off, taking the messenger with him. Pyxis watched as the men rode away, glancing at her blade shaking in her hand. She shook her head as if waking from a groggy haze and returned her attention to the battle, replacing her weapon in its sheath. Her thoughts turned to the absent cavalry attack and seethed at the possibility that they could be the ones in her Empire.
The sun beat down on the Derelict Plains as Pyxis rode in front of her troops. The glaring heat was harsh, cruel and devastating. The once green grass that had come to life with the last downpour had lost its vibrancy and had turned brown under the sun’s daunting rays. The light reflected from the metallic armour, momentarily blinding all that were caught in its alluring glamour.
There was no wind to cool them and her banner hung listlessly from its pole, the bearer’s arms weakening as each moment passed in the blistering light. The clouds had disappeared from the afternoon sky and all that could be seen was the vast blue and the radiating golden sphere. There was no sign of coming relief except for dusk, which was still hours away.
The three hundred Wraiths she’d ordered to follow had come willingly: better to ride the enemy down then hang around waiting to be useful. They skirted around the forests, taking advantage of the shade to cool their wearied bodies. Pyxis needed them in good condition if they found the bloody Murukans.
Pyxis noticed the blackened shells of the carriages first, their larger frames shadows on the vibrant green grass in the distance. She turned her stallion and rode toward the destruction slowing only when she was close enough to dismount. She walked through the debris, Cunx following a step behind. Bones were littered around the scene as she rattled off the growing body count. Counting aloud she disturbed the listening cavalry as the numbers escalated beyond double digits.
‘They were all women and children, no soldiers, no fighters.’ She looked at the fallen. ‘The enemy have shown what kind of men they are, with this cruel and despicable attack. Under the One God and the Emperor, I charge us with the duty of finding these men and slaughtering them. There will be no survivors, only death.’
Pyxis remounted and looked over the map Cunx produced. Marking the caravan site on it, she searched for the obvious hiding places. Sporadic pockets of woodland littered the Derelict Plains that they could be hiding in. It would take too long to search them all. Pyxis flung the map to the ground and rubbed her face with her hand.
‘We are just going to have to ride around and hope that we come across them or find some kind of tracks. I don’t know what else we can do,’ she said softly to Cunx.
‘There is little we can do. I would suggest that we head up that way,’ he said, pointing to the north. ‘They will probably try to head further into the Empire in an effort to hamper the supply trains from the beginning of the route rather than at the final destination.’
Pyxis looked at him with startled admiration. He was right, that would be their likely destination. Her older companion was a man of many talents and at times she forgot how well his mind worked. She nodded to herself and decided that was their course of action.
Hours later they discovered another site where the Murukans had struck. The littered remains of the dead were unbearable to look at but she remained stoic and kept her eyes focused on what lay before her. The remains were not fired like the last scene but the wagons were disabled. Carrion birds moved amongst the dead, tearing and devouring flesh from the bodies. She swallowed down the bile that was rising in the back of her throat.
‘Check the dead,’ Cunx ordered, and soldiers dismounted and ran amongst them.
‘Over here,’ one shouted, standing over the body of a Murukan knight.
Another raced over there and together they dragged his unconscious body back in front of Pyxis and Cunx. She looked down in disdain at the fallen warrior, a bolt protruding from his abdomen.
‘They left him here alive?’ she asked aloud to no one in particular.
‘They probably thought he was dead, general, his breathing is shallow.’
‘Well is he alive enough to question and kill all over again?’ she asked, a smile forming on her face.
‘I think that can be arranged, general,’ the soldier stated.
‘Good,’ she replied, her smile twisting into a sinister grin.
Cunx dismounted and removed the canteen from a saddlebag and poured its contents over the Murukan’s face. He awoke and shuddered in pain, trying desperately to struggle from his captors’ grasp. They held him down while Pyxis dismounted and looked over the man.
The knight was a big man, not fat but solid. The muscles in his arms and shoulders indicated his life had revolved around soldiering. He filled his armour well, although it was now dirty and dented from travelling, the dried blood from those he killed in the battle still stained his hands and armour. Dust had settled in his dark auburn hair, mixed with his sweat and stained his tanned face. His pale blue eyes looked frightened but defiant.
‘What’s your name soldier?’
He looked at her and spat at her face. It didn’t make it the distance and came back down and landed on his cheek. Pyxis smiled.
‘Now, now, play nice or else I’m going to have to get tough.’
‘Do your worst.’
Pyxis looked at Cunx before stepping onto his crotch. She dug her heel in and twisted. He screamed out in pain.
She asked again, ‘What is your name?’
‘Jacob,’ he muttered between deep breaths.
‘Well Jacob, I need to know a few things about the men you were travelling with. Are you going to tell me?’
The man looked horrified at the thought of betraying his unit. His mouth was open but his protests failed to come out. Pyxis trod down hard on his testicles and a groan escaped his lips.
‘The Nails,’ he whispered. ‘The Nails.’
Sweat dripped from his forehead. His stomach wound was slowly killing him. Pyxis had to speed it up.
‘Who are your commanders?’
‘Hydrus, son of Cronos Scythe, Baron of Buckthorne. His second is Volans Thorr.’
‘The Reaper’s boy? Probably just like his father.’
Pyxis noticed the look of confusion wash over the prisoner’s face, smiling that the baron’s youthful reputation was only remembered by the Empire.
‘Where were you stationed before here?’ she asked, pressing down with her foot.
‘The Gorgon Pass.’
‘That was you?! Who cut me, who gloated and bragged about wounding a Kyzantine general?’
‘His name was Castor Fallon and he can’t wait to finish the job.’
Pyxis twisted the bolt in his stomach in a blind rage. Jacob screamed at the pain and passed into unconsciousness. She slapped him hard across the face until he awoke blurry eyed. She poured more water on his face to bring him back to the torment.
‘Jacob, you left us too early, it’s not quite your time. You have yet to tell us the Nails’ location or their numbers.’
Jacob looked at her and a weak smile formed on his thin lips. The slightest trace of blood appeared on them. He whispered something that she couldn’t make out so she leaned in to hear his betrayal. As Pyxis got close enough, Jacob coughed and covered her face with his blood. Pyxis frowned, wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.
‘Kill him,’ she ordered and walked away.
Cunx drew his knife and ran it deep across his neck. Jacob gurgled as the blood came up the back of his throat and he took his last breath.
‘We head north until we find those bastards.’
It was four hours after dawn the next day when Pyxis and her column were riding out in the open of the Derelict Plains. There was little cover to hide from sight and the sun’s glaring heat. Pyxis led the cavalry to the bottom of a small incline that cast a shadow into a trough of the plain. It was barely worth it and would only last for another hour before the sun moved higher in the sky, but anything was appreciated. The entire column had moved into the shadow when the Nails appeared on the top of the hill. With the sun behind them, their shadows loomed long on the grassy hill. Pyxis counted nearly two hundred knights in waiting. Their horses shifted occasionally, snorted, kicked at the grass.