The Spirit of Revenge (4 page)

As the flames whipped by, Cain rolled to the ground before bounding to his feet. He leapt toward his opponent and thrust his sword against the armored chest of the Arzec.

The captain stumbled back from the blow, surprise lit across his face. The two stood in silence, eyes locked. They raised their weapons and charged.

As they met, Cain tackled the timber aside and in one fluid movement, leapt onto the flaming debris, ran up its length and bound off.

He leapt over the Arzec and swung his sword as he frontflipped. The blade tore the Arzec’s skull open with a gush of blood, brain exploding from the chasm. He landed behind the Arzec and twirled around, thrusting his weapon through the back of the captain.

The Arzec’s body slipped down the blade with a sickening crunch. His sword glistened with blood as it carved through the spine of the Arzec.

The captain stood frozen in shock, not a sound escaping his cloven skull. His body gradually lurched forward, taking the sword still embedded in his spine.

The Arzec turned around to face him, blood cascading from his open skull. He raised his scimitar and slowly walked toward his killer. Cain stepped back in surprise as the Arzec staggered towards him.

The captain halted and his lips flew open, a gleaming saber protruding from his gaping maw. Aaron stepped out from behind the dying Arzec and pulled the sword from the back of his neck with a revolting squelch.

The Arzec shuddered violently and fell to his knees. He gazed up at Cain, blood sloshing from his eviscerated face.

Cain stepped forward, pulled his weapon from the Arzec’s back and swung the sword. The captain’s head flew from his body in an explosion of blood. The men watched as the headless corpse dropped in a pool of blood.

They looked up from the body and saw the Arzecs circled around them, staring forward in disbelief. The head of their captain landed at their feet and they looked up at his killers. They surged forward, weapons raised and screaming with vengeance.

Cain and Aaron once again stood side by side, weapons at the ready. The Arzecs reached them in moments and surrounded them like a black ocean’s swell.

Cain ducked as the front lines of Arzecs surged over them. He struck several soldiers and sent them to the ground in a bloody mist, parting them of their legs. Aaron ran forward and jumped over Cain. He crashed down into the wall of flesh and swung his sword, ripping the heads off several of the beasts.

He opened a pathway for his friend and Cain fought mercilessly towards him.

They stood back to back fending off the hordes of Arzecs, bodies falling under a torrent of blood, the dead quickly piling at their feet.

Suddenly the Arzecs swung around to face the edges of the town square.

Through the fires, a wave of horsemen poured forth. The Arzecs threw down their arms and turned from the fight, fleeing for their lives.

The riders galloped across the court and collided into the backs of their enemies with one harmonic cry. They plowed through their ranks like a spearhead, decimating everything that stood in their way.

They surrounded the Arzecs from all sides, bodies falling like flies to the hoof and blade of their assailants. The riders mowed down the remaining hapless Arzecs in seconds.

The soldiers then reined their horses around the bodies in a tight circle, shouting in victory. The column turned and rode across the court, galloping through the smoke and fire toward the southern edge of the city.

Two of the horses broke from the formation and galloped towards Cain and Aaron. A hand reached out to Cain and he grabbed it as the horse shot past, swinging himself into the saddle.

Cain looked back towards the town square as it slowly disappeared over the hill, fighting back his tears. Aaron and Joshua rode close behind them, continuing down the south road.

“Looks like I saved your ass again, eh?” Silas’s voice broke out from the thundering hooves of their mounts. He looked back at his friend in the saddle and laughed. Cain remained silent.

“Our men were surrounded and overwhelmed. We lost most of our force once the Arzecs gained the higher ground. They’ve…taken the city.”

The soldiers continued to follow the main road that led them away from the town and into the endless expanse of surrounding plains.

Through the cloudy night and meager starlight, they barely made out a wooden building in the distance, its thatched roof softly glowing in the moonlight. They galloped down the long stretch of road and soon reached the open doors of the building.

Once safe within the building, they dismounted and several others greeted them warmly.

Forty men now stood inside the stables, awaiting whatever came next, an uneasy tension filling the room.

“This is all that survived?” Aaron asked Silas. The two men looked over the small group of bloodstained and battle scarred men.

Silas lowered his head. “Aye, only forty of the two hundred and fifty.”

Joshua cursed sharply and spit on the hay-littered floor. “Took those bastards a four to one odd to defeat us.” He wrapped his hands around his head, struggling to hold back his anger.

“We’re not defeated yet. Where is Grend?” Aaron inquired. “He would know what to do.” The room was quiet once more.

Silas’s face fell grave. “He didn’t make it; he was pulled down in the retreat. He’s dead…”

The soldiers hung their heads at this. The room fell to deathly silence as they waited for Aaron’s response.

“They’re burning Andaurel!” A soldier cried out, breaking the grim unease. Everyone in the stables rushed for the windows, silence crushed under foot. They crowded around the windows and peered out over the plains to their home.

A brilliant glow rose from the outline of the town. Black smoke climbed into the sky in thick pillars of ember and ash, blotting out the starlight. The whole city was ablaze and drowning in flame before their eyes.

“Damn them!” The soldiers cursed. They screamed in rage and hissed with disdain.

Cain rested his head against the wall and pounded the planking with agony. “They killed my wife and child…they killed everyone I tried to protect. Now they raze my home…”

“We have to retreat,” a soldier cried, “the city is done for, we are done for!”

Cain turned to the man. “There is no retreat! I will not rest until every one of their heads lie wrenched upon a spear! We will face our enemy as one, or I alone!”

He walked forward and the crowd split, leaving a clear path to his horse. “Cain,” Aaron said as he grabbed his friend’s arm. “I understand your pain. I know you are angry, we all are…but don’t be stupid. There are hundreds of Arzecs out there. We have to call the retreat…”

Cain simply glared back and pulled his arm from Aaron’s grip. He jumped onto his horse and grabbed hold of the reins. He looked over the last of his soldiers and Andaurel’s militia.

His fellow soldiers followed suit and mounted their horses. Cain’s friends rode up to his side and soon all were saddled and facing the open stable doors.

Aaron returned Cain’s gaze and smiled lightly. “If you’re willing to face certain end, then I won’t let you face death alone.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he turned to face his men.

“The Arzecs have slaughtered our families and friends. They butchered our brethren, burned down our homes, our city, our livelihoods…and now they want us.”

Cain drew his sword with a ring of steel and the remaining soldiers drew their weapons in turn.

“And we will give them that, with sword and shield.”

He looked to his fellow soldiers, the men he had known his entire life, to meet the enemy who had taken everything from them. He looked at them solemnly for the last time and tore his gaze back to the dying town.

Without a word, he reined his horse forward and began riding down the path. His friends followed, and behind them, the soldiers in formation. There was nothing left to say. Only one thing remained, to paint the streets with the blood of their enemies.

As they approached the town, they saw what was left of the Arzec force. Six hundred now remained in their way. They formed a solid line of sword, shield, and pike at the edge of the town, the burning buildings of Andaurel at their backs. Their only hope of escape, the main road, was now entirely barred off.

The soldiers continued their death march toward the pyre of Andaurel, undaunted by the sheer number of enemies before them. Disbelief fell on the faces of the Arzecs at the sight of the forty soldiers who still dared oppose them.

Cain raised his sword and let out a fearsome scream. His soldiers followed his lead and spurred their horses towards the city.

The Arzecs hesitated for a fleeting moment as the riders galloped up the hill and charged straight for them. This hesitation led to the only weak spot in their defense, the only hope of escape for Andaurel’s defenders and the only hope they needed.

The small wave of horses crashed down upon the Arzecs and plowed head first into a sea of steel.

The riders shot through their formation, struggling to keep their horses galloping amid the overwhelming masses. Bodies fell from their ranks, crushed under hoof and torn asunder by the blades of their enraged enemies.

The soldiers continued hacking through endless waves of Arzecs, blood and bodies flying, screams filling the air. The riders trampled anything that stood in their way, pushing on toward certain death.

They at last reached the streets of Andaurel. An ocean of fire instantly engulfed them, hell arisen to disembowel the fated city.

The riders embraced the flames and leapt into its abyss, a mass of Arzecs close behind.

The city fell to its knees, every brick and stone of its structures trembling to the earth, every building crashing about them.

They rode on through the damned city, the fire on both sides of the road now encompassing them, flames engorging the streets below.

They crossed the town square, almost entirely consumed in fire. Buildings tumbled to the earth and plummeted around the soldiers, explosions of flame and debris shaking the very air.

Fireballs fell from the buildings and crashed down around the soldiers as they jerked their horses aside in an attempt to escape the explosions. Several met their mark and fell upon screaming men, crushing horse and rider under instant death.

The soldiers rode desperately onward, leaving behind their fallen brethren. Hordes of Arzecs still chased after them, heedless of the peril.

A firestorm rained down upon them. Buildings tumbled into the masses, tossing scores of burning bodies with every collapsing structure. The Arzecs pushed on through the hellfire, bloodlust red as the flames in their eyes.

The militia rode on in a desperate struggle to shake off their enemy. A large two-story building collapsed before them and crashed with a great explosion of debris. The debris shot through their formation and tore men from their mounts in a flash of fire.

Cain and his friends spurred their horses into the fire and jumped over the burning rubble.

The flames licked at their feet as they sailed overhead. Their horses cleared the fire and descended over the street, landing heavily in a cloud of ash. The few remaining soldiers continued through the flames and left the blazing building behind.

At last, they burst out from the mouth of hell and came out into an unfamiliar world, devoid of flame and death, the endless plains stretching out before them under a silver veil of starlight.

Andaurel withered and collapsed. Its final moments were crushed beneath the weight of every falling building. The cries of hundreds of Arzecs pierced the night as flame and debris descended over them, snuffing their bodies in the sand. The last of Andaurel’s buildings toppled to the ground and nothing remained now save a great pyre that seemingly bound across all the earth.

The failed defenders of Andaurel tore their gaze from their home and flicked their reins. They rode away from the town that had consumed so many lives, yet somehow spared theirs.

They had survived the battle and escaped with their lives, but they would live on with more than a few scars to haunt their lives forever.

Their town was destroyed, nearly all of their fellow citizens put to the sword, their families and friends forever lost. Their blood now stained the streets of that which they died to save. They had given their lives in defense of their homes, but in the end, they lost both.

T
he sun crept slowly over the distant horizon, at last breaking the feeble dregs of night. The shadows fell from the lofty heavens and the sun’s rays blared down on the backs of thirty men.

They rode throughout the night, no reprieve to ease their fatigue. The night’s ride and hours of fighting had taken its toll on the beleaguered soldiers. The men hung weary in their saddles, blood encrusted skin soaked with the sweat of the long ride.

Cain and his friends whispered amongst themselves at the head of the formation, hesitant to break the grave silence. “How much longer?” Silas asked Aaron as loudly as he dared.

“Dun Ara should be over the next few hills,” Aaron retorted.