Chapter Fifty Four

The Battle for Denmark's Soul

ELSA

A pink-white light flashed from the barrel of Janus' revolver and there was an ear splitting noise which caused Elsa's ears to tingle. No wonder Janus was so confident with a single shot. It was no ordinary shot. It was a flare.

The flare blazed bright like the sun as it whizzed through the air, zipping in an arc towards a box of black powder located behind the second rank of musket-bearing soldiers. And then, the flare hit home.

The box went up in a blaze of light as the sound of an explosion ripped through the air, drowning out the rain for a good few seconds. This explosion caught a good dozen men as well as one of the eight pounders, and the rest were thrown off their feet screaming from the epicentre of the point of impact, flying forward, backwards and to the sides like rag dolls being tossed by an agitated child.

With the First Imperials caught off guard, this was the clear sign for the mob outside to commence their charge. A single high pitched yell came from the crowd at least four hundred yards away, and was echoed by a deafening roar from the rest. The gates sprung open from sheer force of a few thousand people pushing to get into the castle grounds, and they swarmed without form across the four hundred yards between themselves and the surviving First Imperials who were distracted by the blast.

I guess that's the cue. Elsa leapt over the safety of the supply wagon she and Janus had been hiding behind, and shot a simple but strong blast of ice which careened towards a group of three soldiers who had managed to get their bearings and form a line against the incoming mob. The stream of ice caught all three of them on their flank, and they were sent flying into a couple of their other companions who were less disciplined and less organised than them.

One of the soldiers saw Elsa, and brought his musket to bear. She was too busy knocking another man off his feet, and when she heard the soldier cock his weapon with a string of expletives in Exonian to complement it, she whipped round to find herself staring down a smoothbore musket barrel.

Her memories would have flashed before her eyes at that very moment, but they were interrupted by a sleek dagger which whined straight past her left ear and struck the man right in the Adam's apple of his throat.

Her would-be killer slumped bonelessly to the ground without a sound, and she pivoted on the balls of her feet to see Janus vaulting over the body of another soldier he had just dispatched with another knife and running towards her. Now this was one time she could condone him killing, since he'd saved her life. She wouldn't be alive to protest otherwise.

"Are you alright?" He raised his voice over the clap of thunder and the roar of the mob as they collided with what remained of the Empire's defence.

"I'm fine!" She shouted back. "I think it worked!"

Janus and her watched as a coruscation of saturated orange and yellow light rocketed out from Deirdre's hands from the front of the crowd as they closed the four hundred yard gap rapidly. The flaming sphere bore straight into the second eight pounder which the remaining soldiers were desperately trying to load, and the fire consumed them mercilessly and impartially, licking up everything.

And then at long last, the two sides clashed. The helpless soldiers with their muskets and bayonets, and the pumped up mob with all assortments of weapons they could get their hands on. It was a no contest between a dozen remaining terrified First Imperials and a thousand angry citizens who were set on reclaiming their freedom.

"Looks like it." Janus nimbly faded sideways as one final soldier thrust at him with a cavalry saber, catching his wrist as the soldier's failed thrust and weight caused him to stumble forward. He smoothly twisted the sword out of the man's hand and promptly ran him through with his own blade.

Elsa winced as the saber sunk into the man's body till all that was visible was the hilt, and quickly turned away as Janus yanked the sword out and kicked the lifeless body away.

"Janus…"

"Sorry." He wiped the bloodied blade on the dead man's uniform and took his scabbard. Apparently the soldier was one of the other lieutenants, since only officers carried swords as a mark of rank and honour. "But there's no time for restraint. Not tonight."

Elsa sighed and shook her head. There was no time to argue about this either. They had bigger issues at hand.

"Charlotte conveys her gratitude." Ivon called out as he emerged from the still yelling mob, brandishing his own rifle in hand, and manoeuvred over to Elsa and Janus. Oliver and Deirdre were with him. "You actually did it. I have to admit, I had my doubts that you two could actually pull this insane caper off."

Janus shrugged as he attached the scabbard to his hip and sheathed the still red-stained saber.

"We're one step closer to retaking the kingdom, thanks to you two." Oliver said. "I think we might actually win this time."

"Don't thank us yet." Elsa looked up at Aleksander tower which loomed tall beside the west wing of the castle, and then at the main castle. "We still have a long way to go."

"This was just the beginning." Janus agreed. "It only gets harder from here."

"You remember the plan?" Elsa glanced at Deirdre.

"Yeah." Deirdre nodded. "We should move now while we still have the advantage."

"There'll be more inside." Ivon warned. "We'll capture the castle grounds properly and move inwards to corner the remaining First Imperials that are left, but you three-" he glanced at Elsa, Deirdre and Janus. "-are on your own for the time being. You guys have a concrete plan to take down the Empress and free the king and queen right?"

"Yes," Janus said. "I'll secure the king and queen."

"Singlehandedly?" Oliver looked amused. He appeared to have been drinking before the battle. "Then you're going to need this." He unslung his longbow from his back and held it out to Janus. "Here."

Janus hesitated. "Don't you need it?"

"There's plenty of weapons out here I can use." Oliver said, gesturing at a pile of weapons on the supply wagon while removing his quiver as well. "Besides, you're going to need these more than I do right now. Just…bring it back in one piece, alright?"

The former mercenary took the bow and arrows, and equipped himself. "Thanks."

"We should move." Elsa took Deirdre's arm and gestured to Janus. "Now, before we lose the advantage and they get a chance to regroup and mount some kind of defence."

JANUS

I have to admit, he pondered as he raced to the west side of the castle where Aleksander Tower was. It does feel good to be armed with a sword and bow again.

The longbow Oliver had given him was a simple one for enthusiasts unlike the custom professional one he had for himself, but it would still serve his purpose nicely. And the sword, well, it was a heavy cavalry saber, which would be harder to swing fast, so he would have to adapt to it and rely on broad, more lethal strokes to do the job. At least he still had been able to salvage a few daggers from the weapons cache.

"Aleksander Tower." Elsa came to a halt and pointed. "Melody's parents are up there."

"Hmmn." Janus looked up. It was tall, and since he had none of his usual custom arrows with him, he could not use a grappling arrow to get up to the top of the tower which clearly was meant for the high-security cells. He would have to ascend the old fashion way.

"Janus." Elsa said with a touch of worry in her voice. "You sure you'll be alright on your own? Count Anton did say that there are two dozen guards up there."

"I'll manage." Janus said. "I always have. And you? You'll be careful?"

"I will." Elsa tucked a stray strand of wet hair behind her ear and paused a second. "Janus,"

"Hmmn?"

"After this, we…"

"Guys." Deirdre interrupted impatiently. "Can we save the romance for later? We have a job to do here."

"Right." Elsa hurried off into the West Wing of the castle and stole a glance over her shoulder at Janus.

Janus watched as she left, and sighed. He wished that he could have gone with her to face the Empress, but then the circumstances dictated otherwise. There was no one who stood a better chance at singlehandedly taking out two dozen men at once, and everyone else had admitted that.

He looked up at the ominous, looming tower and blew out a long breath. It was going to be a long climb.

###

The tower was, well, a tower. Ten stories high, with many prisoners crammed into cells on each level, every one of them a hardened criminal, offender, or legitimate threat to the kingdom of Denmark. It was designed to keep people in, as well as out, and that to Janus, wasn't as monumental a problem as the Exonian guards that were swarming him.

What had surprised him initially was that there were no soldiers posted on the barbicans overlooking the castle grounds. He had been given the impression that the place was going to be less well-guarded than he had imagined. But that, he found to be sorely wrong.

Count Anton had divulged that two dozen hostiles were waiting up on the highest level, guarding the king and queen in the most secure cell in the tower. What he had not mentioned, however, was that there were at least fifty more First Imperials patrolling the multiple levels of the tower, and Janus found himself getting annoyed at the narrow confines of the tower's spiral stairwell which made it hard to manoeuvre flying lead balls from an array of muskets, carbines and pistols. This, he reflected, was far worse than dealing with a couple of soldiers perched on barbicans.

"Over here! Now! I found someone!" A voice screamed as he ran straight into Janus around the corner.

Janus promptly smashed the soldier's throat with his forearm, grabbed the collar of his Exonian uniform and sent him choking and sprawling down the spiral steps. Footsteps could be heard clambering down the stairs towards him, accompanied by shouts and the cocking of weapons.

Up till now he had been content to use his fists and blades and hadn't needed to use his bow and arrows, but the way things were going, now would be a good time to start.

He unslung the longbow and nocked two arrows, waiting behind the bend. The stairwell wasn't a broad or wide one, and would at best admit only two people walking abreast. In this case, the space played to his advantage. The first two soldiers reared their heads around the bend, and two arrows stuck in their chests.

They promptly dropped to the ground, and the soldiers behind them tripped on their bodies, causing something in approximation to the domino effect. The ones behind got the message and stayed cautious as Janus sliced the throats of their fallen companions.

Got to be at least five more waiting, Janus estimated as he yanked his dagger out of a soldier's shoulder. They would have their muskets loaded and brought to bear, just waiting for Janus to come round the bend. But he was not going to satisfy their predictions. No, he wasn't.

Janus removed a small pellet from his jacket and hurled it up the bend in an arc. He whipped his head in the opposite direction, shutting his eyes. There was a bright flash of light that even he could faintly see with his eyes closed, followed by yells of alarm and cursing. That was his cue.

The mercenary vaulted over the fallen bodies and nocked three arrows as he rounded the bend to find seven disoriented soldiers rubbing their eyes, with their muskets abandoned and completely without defence. He pitied them, in a very strange way that a wolf would pity a couple of unsuspecting and helpless rabbits he was about to devour. He let fly, and three more soldiers went down with arrows in their chests.

Janus barrelled into two more, dragging them to the ground. He reached out and plucked an arrow from one of the three soldiers, slashing quickly across the throats of his two new victims.

The two that remained had somewhat recovered from their daze by now, and were hoisting their muskets to their shoulders. Janus tossed a dagger straight into one's eye, and the other levelled his weapon.

He saw time slow to a crawl as the final soldier's finger began to twitch and move towards the trigger. Most men would lunge out of the way of the line of fire, but not him. Not Janus. He hurled his body forward to cross the remaining distance between him and his would-be killer, and grabbed the barrel of the musket, pushing it to point upwards.

The bright pink white flash of the musket going off illuminated the horribly lit stairwell for a brief instant, and there was a "thock" sound from the ceiling as bits of debris crumbled onto them both. His final opponent shouted in protest and tried to wrench his weapon free, but Janus kicked the man's leg out from underneath him, causing him to buckle.

As the soldier dropped to a knee, Janus twisted the musket out of the man's grip, and holding the barrel of the weapon like a baseball bat, he slammed the musket's heavy butt into the back of the man's head. The weapon broke, and Janus guessed that the same could be said for the man's skull.

Stepping over the lifeless body of his latest victim, he continued up the steps two a time. He hadn't kept count of how many he had dispatched so far, but he knew enough to know that at the rate he was going, he would soon run out of tools and weapons, then it would all come down to hand to hand combat. And he was fine with that, but twenty four soldiers against one single mercenary? This was going to be one of the toughest, if not the toughest challenge in his entire life.

After eliminating a few more disturbances along the way, Janus reached the top of the tower. Finally. As he did, he was met by a scream of "Open fire!". On pure instinct alone, he dove for the safety of a nearby pillar. A single, unified crash of muskets almost made his ears bleed, and a volley of lead balls pinged and zinged all around him as he huddled behind the pillar, trying to keep his body's footprint as minimal and compact as possible.

"Advance!" The voice shouted again the moment the volley of musketry ceased.

He hadn't gotten a close look in the split second that he had leapt for cover, but he had seen about ten First Imperials in a single line with muskets and bayonets attached. And now they were advancing on his location to flush him out. He couldn't give them time to reload, or it would all be over for him in a flash. No, I have to end this now.

Janus rolled out from behind the pillar, and as he did, his hand flew to his side where a hand-built revolver was resting snugly in a holster, and he pulled it out. Praying with everything he had that the black powder hadn't spilled out of the flash pan, Janus completed his roll and crouched low, taking aim. Six shots to make count.

He fired consecutively, panning his hand from left to right at a steady, constant rate, and watched as soldiers went down one by one like bowling pins, clutching their chests and spinning away. When his bullets had been spent, he tossed aside his revolver and tore the heavy cavalry saber from the scabbard on his hip.

The four remaining soldiers were still closing the gap, albeit a little more hesitantly and with less resolve and heart after seeing six of their comrades taken down like fish in a barrel. Wielding the sword, Janus drew closer to meet his attackers. He faded underneath a wild swing of the bayonet, and brought his sword around to slice the small of the man's back.

In the same smooth motion, Janus pivoted on the balls of his feet and his saber dug deep into a second soldier's stomach. He let it sink in as the man's body fell forward till only the hilt of the sword was visible.

Two men dragged him to the ground, giving him no time to retrieve his sword. Janus wormed his way out of their grasp before they could pounce on him, drawing a blade from one of his many compartments on his belt and slashing at the tendon of one's leg. A spray of blood splattered Janus' jacket as the man went down with a scream, and he got to his feet, brandishing the knife as the final survivor got up hastily and scrambled away like cornered prey.

"Please." The man dropped whatever weapons he was carrying and raised both hands in defeat. "Please."

Janus retrieved the sword with a clean tug, and gripped the sword whose steel was stained clean with red matter. He got a good look at the man, if he could be called a man. He was just a teenage boy, barely old enough to qualify as a military volunteer.

"Please, don't kill me." The man - boy - pleaded in Exonite. "I have a family, back home in Exon, waiting for the war to end. I promised them I would make it home."

Janus narrowed his eyes and wiped the blades of the sword and knife on one of the dead soldier's uniform. Maybe it was time to try Elsa's way and let an opponent live for once. After all, this was only a boy. "Get out of here." He growled and pocketed the knife, turning his back to continue down the long passage towards the end.

And then, Janus heard a weapon cock behind him, and the pull of the trigger sent a crack echoing through the tight, dark passage. The lead ball missed his pectoral muscle by a hair's breadth as he dove to the left, skimming just across the skin of his shoulder and leaving a burning, shrieking sensation on his arm as it tore away a bit of his flesh.

He growled in pain as he dropped his saber, and with his uninjured hand, hurled a dagger squarely into the boy's temple. The boy slumped and dropped the pistol in his hand. Janus stood up, clutching his wounded arm. Thanks to his quick reflexes and nothing else, he had avoided being taken out of the fight completely. Now, he only had a flesh wound, which he was sure he could live with until the end of the night. I've endured worse.

Narrowing his eyes, he turned his back on the boy once more and started down the passage towards the king and queen's cell. So much for trying things Elsa's way and leaving my enemies alive.

After tearing an untainted piece of cloth from one of the soldiers' uniforms, he tied it tightly around the flesh wound and walked to the end of the passage. There stood a large steel door which was locked and bolted securely with a few more layers of steel. The soldiers he had put down here on this level numbered to ten, which probably weren't included in the detail of the two dozen that Count Anton had warned him about. No, forcing the door open and charging in would be as good as signing his own death warrant. There has to be a better approach.

He looked up to see a vent above the cell, placed there for ventilation purposes, but in this case, it would serve him differently. Janus attached a cable to an arrow and fired it at an angle. The arrow zipped through the bars on the air vent, and before it could wedge itself to anything, Janus gave the cable a tug, hoping that it would work on the first try.

Fortunately it did. The arrowhead caught between two bars and Janus jerked back on the cable as hard as he could. The rusty nails holding the vent buckled under the pressure, and the vent dislodged itself from the wall. Before it could fall to the ground and clatter noisily, Janus caught it in the air and gently placed it beside the steel door.

Hoisting himself up, he squeezed into the tiny, cramped space of the air duct and felt a numbing, blunt pain shoot through his arm as he pressed against the narrow walls to fit inside. Sad to say, this position was unavoidable, and Janus spent the next minute crawling through the duct while biting back the urge to grunt in sheer, raw agony as dust and grime scraped his wound.

Mercifully, he reached a point in the duct where a large grill was positioned directly underneath him and all he had to do was stop and look down to survey the room. It was as he imagined, a large spacious cell, refurnished in haste to resemble a suite for the royal prisoners. I guess even the Empress has some respect for her enemies' status, even though she's a tyrant.

The cell was separated into two different rooms, divided by a stone archway. Underneath him in the main room were fourteen guards, with some patrolling back and forth much to the annoyance and discomfort of the king and queen who were in the corner of the first room. One could easily understand why the royals were vexed at the lack of privacy. There were twenty four soldiers posted in the room after all.

Thankfully though, they weren't armed, but had a couple of muskets stacked against a stone wall. No one was expecting anyone to break in to the most secure cell in the kingdom, and especially not get past fifty or so soldiers posted on the lower levels of the tower. Hence, their lackadaisical dispositions, but nothing was stopping them from reaching for the stack at the first sign of trouble. So first, I'll need to eliminate those weapons.

Janus narrowed his eyes as he analysed the grounds. The soldiers were more or less evenly spread out in most places, which was going to make it extremely difficult for him. A twenty fifth, Dolan, was at the far end of the second room, berating one of the soldiers probably for something minute and insignificant, and left the cell shortly after. Janus made a mental note to deal with him personally later.

On the upside, there wasn't much furniture in the cell apart from two beds that looked more like stretchers, an old writing desk that looked frail in the middle of the room and two flimsy chairs. That would give him sufficient room to manoeuvre during the fight at least.

Reaching into jacket, Janus pulled out two items, both of two distinct characteristics. One was a pellet which contained a simple colourless translucent solution while the other was a vial which had something greenish with a pinch of black powder thrown in for good measure. Both would serve his purposes nicely. Time to make my entrance.