Chapter 8: Iron Fist of Anger
Author's Notes: To answer a question: Yes, Hugo is a bit taller than Chris in my story, perhaps a few inches. He's hit his growth spurt. As I mentioned earlier, I've altered the timeline a bit so that Hugo is 17 and Chris 23.
The feeling Hugo had when he passed through the gates of Vinay and left the city behind was like a great weight lifting from his chest. Each step that took him further from the city's bustling stone-clad streets filled him with a growing sense of freedom. The wispy clouds drifting lazily across the azure sky, the whistle of the wind in the branches, and the swaying of the tall grass all seemed to sing with the promise of better days. It was only now that he was beneath the open sky again that he realized just how oppressive it had felt, being cut off from the spirits of the land.
Even better, Fubar was back. The clever gryphon had kept its distance while Hugo, Lulu, and Sergeant Joe were within sight of Vinay's walls, but swooped down almost immediately as the group made their way into Zexen Forest. The beast pranced around Hugo with excitement, rubbing its feathered head against his chest and begging for scratches. Hugo was happy to give them. Fubar was so affectionate, after a while Hugo gave up on walking and sat astride his friend's back as they made their way down the forest road.
They were a few hours out of Vinay when their pursuers caught up to them. The pursuers made no effort at hiding their presence, and the sound of the galloping horses reached Hugo and the others from quite a distance. They thought about getting off the road and hiding, but after the way things ended at Tarnay, Hugo saw no reason the ironheads would be looking for them.
"Halt! I command you, halt!" a familiar voice called out, as three horses rounded a bend in the woods and came into sight.
Hugo let out a heavy sigh as Lilly Pendragon reined in her horse before Fubar. The woman didn't look the least bit surprised or perturbed by the gryphon's presence. Her assistants followed behind, slumping in their saddles. The two men looked as if they'd been run just as ragged as the horses. Hugo straightened his back and folded his arms across his chest.
"You don't command me, lady. That whole nonsense is over with. If you think—"
"Why did you not tell me you were someone important?" Lilly cut in. The expression on her face suggested this was an unforgivable sin.
"Spirits!" Hugo exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Being the son of a chieftain, you are important," Lilly patiently explained, as if giving instruction to a small child. "It's common courtesy to mention such a thing at the earliest opportunity."
"Why? Are you saying you wouldn't have treated me like dirt if you'd known?"
"Dirt!" Lilly shrieked. "I'll have you know, I treated you in the manner a commoner should expect to be treated by a high-born lady!"
Hugo scoffed. "What does it matter whose son someone is or isn't? Among my people, everyone is equal, and we judge a man based on his actions. In your case, that's not a good thing."
Lilly's face flushed red with anger. "How dare you?"
"Miss Pendragon!" the two attendants called out in unison. They looked ready to restrain their lady, but Lilly somehow mastered herself, giving a loud 'humph' at Hugo.
"We're leaving," Hugo said. "Goodbye, Lilly." He nudged Fubar around. The gryphon, suspicious of the strangers, turned slowly before stalking off along the road.
"You will not turn your back on me! Do you hear me?!" Lilly shouted. When he didn't respond, she loosed a string of profanities at his back. Hugo smiled.
They didn't get far before the tone of Lilly's voice changed. "Alright. Alright, I'm sorry!" Genuinely shocked, Hugo turned to look back down the road, where Lilly guided her weary horse along. "What's that?"
Lilly fumed. "You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself. Will you let me travel with you?"
Hugo shrugged, but he gestured for the others to slow down and let the woman and her attendants catch up. "What do you want with me, anyway?"
"I want to speak with your mother."
Hugo narrowed his eyes, trying to imagine the fiery girl with his mother. He wasn't sure who'd explode first. "Why?"
Lilly's mouth tightened, but the searching look on his face eventually made her crack. She sighed. "Fine! It's really none of your business, but if you must know, I wish to speak with her about the recent bandit raids on Tinto caravans. Speaking with the clan chieftains was the whole reason I came here in the first place."
"Then why go to Vinay? Why not just come talk to us?"
Spots of pink rose in Lilly's cheeks, and she looked away. "I thought the Zexen council might help set up a meeting. Truthfully, I thought the barb—uhh, the clansmen might be hostile to strangers."
Hugo shared a look with Lulu, and they both laughed. "You though we'd be more likely to speak with you if the ironheads set it up?" Hugo asked. "You really don't know much about the Grasslands, do you?"
"I know enough," she snapped. "I know it's an area of roughly two and a half thousand square miles. I know that it has a decentralized population, with a mere single city of medium proportions. I know it's—"
"Sounds like you know a lot of useless things," Hugo said, hiding a smile. Gotta admit, she's kinda cute when she's angry. "I can't control who my mother decides to speak to, but if you want to see her, you're welcome to travel with us. Just watch your tongue around her. She's not as patient as I am."
Lilly looked at him as if he were joking, and when he raised his eyebrow at her, she burst into laughter. "What's so funny?"
She shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "Nothing. Nothing."
Around noon, they stopped to rest in the shade of a giant oak, and had lunch. They were just packing up their belongings and readying their mounts when the sound of approaching hoofbeats reached their ears. A band of armored riders came into view. At their head was a knight Hugo had not seen before, a gaunt-faced man with black hair. The soldiers fanned out to surround them Hugo and the others.
"What's this?" Hugo said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Hugo of the Karaya," the knight announced. "I am Sir Alron, of the Knights of Zexen. You are hereby placed under arrest on charges of conspiracy to commit murder."
Hugo gaped. "What?" Beneath him, Fubar shifted restlessly, arching his back and staring angrily at the soldiers that surrounded them.
"This is absurd!" Lilly exclaimed. "Hugo has had no opportunity to do any such thing; I, Lilly Pendragon, swear it on my honor!"
The knight gestured to Lilly. "Separate the lady from the criminals. See that she is not harmed." Lilly protested loudly, but wasn't foolish enough to draw her sword against the soldiers who came to escort her off to the side. The two attendants went peacefully. Sir Alron placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"You have violated the laws of Zexen," he said, "and therefore you are to stand trial in Vinay."
Sergeant Joe stepped in front of Hugo, deliberately keeping his polearm casually slung over his shoulder. "There must be some mistake. Perhaps you are looking for someone else."
Hugo gritted his teeth and pulled his knife from its sheath. "There's no mistake, Sergeant. Just another ironhead without honor. But why now?" Damn it, there's too many of them. We can't get out of this, unless…
The knight's face turned to the sergeant, but his neck remained arrogantly aloft. "I serve the council, and the council has demanded that your ward is returned to Vinay… in chains, if need be."
Sergeant Joe turned to meet Hugo's eyes. "Perhaps it would be most prudent to—"
Restrained by her aides, and encircled by a group of soldiers, Lilly fumed. "Remove these thugs at once!" she demanded. "Have you notion of who I am?"
Alron turned his head to give her a cool gaze. "I know who you are, Lady Lilly. This does not concern you. We have business with the barbarians alone."
"No," Hugo corrected. "You have business with me alone." Before the knight could react, he nudged Fubar forward and grabbed Lulu, pulling his friend up behind him as the gryphon lunged.
Within moments, the scene was in chaos, with shouts from all involved filling the air. Hugo swung his knife to deflect a spear-shaft, and ducked beneath another. Sergeant Joe ran towards them. Hugo sat low and leaned out to the side, holding his arm out for the sergeant. Hand closed around the sergeant's arm, and as the duck leapt, Hugo pulled with all his might. Fubar screeched and reared up, dodging a stabbing spear and then coming down with a massive swipe of his claws, sending the offending soldier to the ground, shrieking in pain. Desperately, Hugo ducked and parried weapons while trying to clear a space for Fubar to take flight.
"Wait!" Lilly cried out. "You're not leaving me behind!"
Hugo hesitated. The ironheads wouldn't hurt her. She'll be safe. Leaving her behind felt like a coward's move, but he had no choice. The knight was shouting at the top of his lungs, and the soldiers were closing in. Another moment and it would be too late.
Fubar leaped up into the air and flapped his wings, readying for flight. Breaking free of her aide's grip, Lilly motioned her horse forward and caused it to rear and slam its hooves into the back of a soldier. As the spearman crumpled onto the ground, her horse leapt, and she liberated herself from the stirrup and jumped. The woman latched onto Lulu's back and dug her knees into Fubar's flanks. The griffin screeched in irritation. Hugo cursed loudly.
Three of the soldiers pulled out bows. Hugo froze in fear. If even one of those arrows strikes home, we're done for. Thinking fast, he motioned Fubar to swivel in midair, turning halfway towards the soldiers with the bows. He grabbed Lulu by the shoulder. "Fubar trusts you. Get out of here! I'll hold them off, we'll meet up later!"
Before his friend could respond, Hugo leaped from Fubar's back. He hit the ground rolling and came up in a leaping charge, bowling into the first of the archers. He cut the man's bowstring, slicing the man's wrist in the same swing. Hugo rolled to the side and slammed his free hand into the throat of the next man, causing the soldier to double over in pain and breathlessness. Hugo stabbed the third man in his arm.
Behind him, Fubar screeched in distress as Lulu guided the gryphon away above the treetops. Lulu, Lilly, and Joe were all shouting Hugo's name, but at least they weren't trying to do something foolish, like coming to help him.
The archers were down, but the remaining soldiers were upon Hugo in an instant. He had to throw himself into the ditch just to avoid a spearhead. The second steel point drove into the moss near his head as he rolled to the side and scrambled to his feet, running clumsily through the underbrush and into the forest. Thoughts of the stormy night with Chris ran through his head as his heart jumped, and he dodged between trees in the desperate hope of losing his pursuers. Spirits, protect my friends! he prayed silently.
The forest was a din of noise behind him as the soldiers pursued. He saw a slope appear before him, and he ran towards it, leaping from the crest. A lancing pain shot through his leg as an arrow slammed into his thigh. He screamed, and the pain was aggravated as he hit the ground and bowled down the forested slope. The arrow lodged in his leg snapped near the head as he tried to halt his descent, and his head slammed into the trunk of a tree as he passed by, causing his vision to swim.
Struggling to rise, Hugo blinked and tried to separate the pain from his consciousness. Got to stand. Got to run!
The cold steel of a spearhead touched the back of his neck. Hugo froze, biting back fear, and turned his head to stare up into the angry face of a Zexen soldier.
"Sir Alron!" the soldier called out, and several others ran to join him, each man leveling his spear at Hugo. "Sir Alron, we've got the murderer!"
"I'm not a murderer," Hugo growled.
"Barbarian scum," one of the soldiers said, spitting on the ground. "Why wait for a trial?"
"No," another man said, "The council commanded he be brought back alive."
"Well done, men," Sir Alron said as he strode up. The soldiers parted for the knight.
"Never trust an ironhead," Hugo said, turning his head to spit at the ground.
Alron laughed, but it was a sound of spite rather than mirth. "Criminals like you are the worst," he sneered. "Did you think you could get away with anything in Zexen?"
"I didn't do anything wrong!" Hugo spat, "And you know it!"
With a wave of his hand, Alron ordered the soldiers surrounding Hugo to step aside. The sound of clinking metal filled the air as they obeyed. The knight drew his sword in a sinuous motion and pointed the blade towards Hugo.
"Get up, barbarian," he said.
Confused, Hugo rose to his feet, still clutching his knife. He looked around, thinking about escape, but every avenue was covered by the soldiers. He turned his eyes to Alron and scowled.
"Speechless?" the knight asked. "I thought as much. Let's play a little game, barbarian. Let's have a duel, you and I, right here… and we'll find out who is superior; the Knights of Zexen or the barbarians of the grassland. If you win, I'll even let you leave."
Several of the soldiers chuckled. Hugo gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the searing pain in his thigh. "My leg… It won't be a fair fight unless you let me heal myself first."
Alron smirked. "There's no such thing as a fair fight. Circumstances are dictated by the superior party; in this case, me. The fact that you're alone, wounded… and have the lower ground… is just proof of your inferiority."
Glowering, Hugo twirled the hilt of his knife with his fingers. "I always knew ironheads were cowards," he said. "I guess the knights are no exceptions." Not all knights, he thought. Not all.
Irritated mutters came from the assembled soldiers, but Alron seemed unfazed. "Big words from a boy who left his friends to plummet to their deaths," he said with a sneer.
The knight's words struck home. Hugo's heart fell through his stomach. No… No, that can't be true…
"You think I'd let that overgrown chicken fly away?" Alron said.
Hugo's eyes blackened with rage. "Die!" he screamed, and launched himself at the knight. Alron stepped to one side and parried his swing with a casual wave of his sword. Hugo stumbled, pressed down on his wounded leg, and howled. He stumbled aside, barely dodged a thrust, and parried an overhand cleave before regaining his feet. Alron thrust his blade, and Hugo threw himself aside, this time remembering to balance on his good leg. The knight's thrust went wide, and Hugo felt a moment of triumph as he swung his knife at Alron's throat.
Faster than Hugo had thought possible, Alron spun around and drove his knee into Hugo's back. Hugo grunted and fell. He pushed onto his feet, but the pain shooting through his injured leg caused his knee to buckle. In a desperate move, Hugo rolled over onto his back and swung his knife in a wide arc. Alron retreated a step to let the blade pass harmlessly, then stepped in and stomped his foot down on the arrow in Hugo's leg.
Hugo had never felt such pain before. His eyes watered, and he nearly passed out from the shock. He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd been howling at the top of his lungs. His throat felt dry. When he recovered, he found himself staring up at Alron's leering face.
"Looks like you lose, barbarian," Alron said. Hugo struggled to speak as the knight grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him onto his feet. The man was stronger than he looked.
"I guess now we know who's stronger. I can't believe you little worms have pestered us for all these years. Soon enough, that'll be history."
"You…" Hugo breathed.
"What's on your mind, murderer?" Alron wondered.
"You beat… a wounded boy… but… you wouldn't stand a chance… against our best warriors…"
For the first time, Hugo could see true anger in Alron's face. The knight raised his gauntleted hand and delivered a heavy slap to Hugo's cheek. Hugo's vision swam, and he coughed blood. The knight followed up with two more slaps before throwing him back onto the ground. Unable to see, Hugo could only lie there as the knight's steel-plate boot drove into his side.
Coughing and gasping, Hugo curled up into a ball and struggled to remain conscious as Alron kicked him again and again. After what seemed like an eternity, the knight stopped his assault.
"Haul him up," Alron said. Hugo's ears were ringing, and the man's voice seemed to come from somewhere far away. "We're taking him with us to the Amur Plains."
One of the soldiers protested. "Sir, the council's command was to bring the captive back to Vinay at once."
"Silence!" Alron retorted. "It is the knights' duty to interpret and carry out the will of the council, and yours to obey the knights'."
As Hugo lost consciousness, his last thought went to Fubar and his friends. Spirits… let them be safe…
Anger. Sorrow. Shame. These emotions, and many more, had passed through Bazba's mind as he lay on the floor of the Great Hollow, incapacitated by his wounds. It would have all been too much to bear, if not for the fact that he could focus all of his energy into a single, overriding purpose.
Vengeance.
Bazba's wounds had been healed, but his spirit would never be restored. He had lost his honor. He had failed his chieftain. He had watched, helpless, as the she-devil strolled from the Great Hollow bearing Chief Zepon's severed head like a trophy. A trophy!
Rivers of blood will flow for this.
With the females evacuated to the hidden lairs, the remaining warriors had gathered around him in the central cavern. In the absence of Captain Dupa, they had turned to him for leadership. He did not feel worthy, but he accepted this burden. The day of reckoning for his own failure would come, but first, there had to be an answer to the Silver Maiden's crime. He would relinquish command after he had avenged Chief Zepon, and only then.
"Send a message to the warm-bloods," he said to his warriors. "Tell them what's happened. Tell them we're striking back."
Sarah stepped into the nondescript tent in the middle of the bustling camp, and folded her arms over her chest disapprovingly.
"Really, Albert?" she said. "Hiding in the middle of the Zexen camp? Your lack of caution astounds me." Albert sat on a folding chair, sipping tea from a ceramic cup held gingerly between two fingers. Yuber towered over him, fidgeting irritably. The dark knight was sheathed in the illusion of a Zexen soldier. The tactician looked up at Sarah.
"For someone with such a limited understanding of strategy, you sure have a lot of opinions."
"Indeed? You are practically advertising your presence," Sarah said, sniffing. She folded her arms over her chest, pressing her staff against her body as she studied him. He was wearing an elaborate white coat with patterns in black and shades of gray, but the garment was buttoned only at the middle, leaving the tall collar ruffled and creased. His hair, the color of dark garnets, was casually unkempt. Sarah was convinced the man spent a great deal of time maintaining that disheveled appearance.
Albert sighed, handing his cup to Yuber. "Do you expect me to cite something trite? How about 'keep your friends close, and your enemies still closer?' Perhaps 'the closer to the flame, the greater the shadow' suffices? Others come to mind, no doubt gleaned from some abject manual written by some ancestor or the other. Shall I go on?"
Sarah raised her free hand to motion for him to stop. "Spare me," she groaned.
Albert smiled. The man was insufferable—he always had to win every argument. Albert started to lean backwards in his seat, but quickly caught himself when he realized that the chair had no back. His smile vanished. "Sometimes the most brazen, unexpected course of action is the one which is the most effective, by virtue of its unpredictability. All things aside, no one is looking for us. Where would you have us hide away, dear? I am open to suggestions, but please remember that it is difficult to find good tea in a cave."
Sarah sighed, and glanced at Yuber. The dark knight was grinning widely. Like master, like servant, she thought. Everything is a game to this man. "As long as Master Luc trusts your judgment, I will not question it."
"Perfect. I cannot have you arguing with me over insignificant details while my mind is better served on further ruminations." With an almost ceremonious slowness, Albert rose from his seat and walked over to the nearby table, where a map of the Grasslands region had been spread across the tabletop. "Besides," he said, "the Zexens will eventually be under our command." He hesitated for a moment on the word 'our.' "Watching them now leaves me better equipped to anticipate them later," he said, as if it justified everything.
Sarah spared a glance at Yuber. The dark knight still held the cup in his hand. His eyes were shielded under the brim of his hat, but despite the demonic grin on the man's lips, Sarah sensed irritation. You do not like to serve, do you?
Sarah turned to regard Albert. "What about your plot?" she wondered. "The lizards are sure to be furious now, but the Silver Maiden's presence at the camp can be vouched for at the time of the attack—by the Karayan chieftain, no less."
A smile creased Albert's lips as he turned from the map, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his coat. "No matter. By the time the misunderstanding has been cleared up, the truce will already be broken beyond repair. You give these 'pagans' far too much credit. Ultimately, they are savages; too hot-headed to think before acting."
"Even pagans can see the truth, if they look hard enough."
"Before long," Albert said, "the bishop's plan will come to fruition. Nothing matters then, does it?" The tone of his voice seemed to suggest that this was the truth. "Besides, you told me you wanted short term solutions, true?"
Sarah sighed. "You are right." I do have faith in this man's abilities. I know he's right. Why does this gall me so much?
Albert strode past her and flicked the tent flap aside to step outside. "Come, let us watch," he said. Sarah cast a glance at Yuber. The dark knight still hadn't moved. She followed the tactician outside.
The camp was full of activity. Soldiers and camp followers mingled on the narrow lanes between the grid of tents, and the occasional knight could be sighted, mounted or not. Smiths' hammers rang through the air, and creaky-wheeled wagons brought water, grain, and the thousand-and-one little things necessary to run an army.
An authoritative voice cried out, and people hurried out of the way to make space for a procession of mounted soldiers trotting their horses through the camp. Slung over the back of a riderless horse led by another soldier was a large sack, bulging with something of irregular shape. The soldiers' leader, a gaunt-faced knight with black hair, was turning a curved knife over in his hands, as if examining it for the first time. A Karayan knife? Sarah observed.
Albert watched the procession with obvious interest, a small smile playing on his lips, as if he knew something others did not. "These are interesting times," the tactician said. "Very interesting times." He shook his head, and gestured to the craftsmen and laundresses that milled about the camp. "Soon, the flames of hate will be fanned high enough to burn the sky. Little things like 'who did what' and 'who struck first' will be moot." He sighed. "Really, this is a waste of my talent."
"It is time," a voice said over Sarah's shoulder. She gave a start and turned to see Yuber standing behind her, still in his Zexen disguise.
Albert nodded. "You can sense the lizards' approach?" Yuber nodded. Albert drew a deep breath. "Do it," he said.
Yuber extended his hand to Sarah and opened up his fist, revealing a brightly glowing crimson rune. The rune was still in its crystal. Hesitantly, Sarah reached out to take it, and cradled it in her hand. Trembling, she awakened the rune.
The very air trembled as Sarah unleashed the Fury Rune's power and spread it throughout the camp and Amur Plains. The rune, when focused on a single mind, could drive the meekest man into a murderous frenzy. When dispersed into a wider area, the effects were more subtle. Most who had succumbed to the rune's influence would not even know it afterwards. They would simply be a little more impulsive, a little more prone to react in anger, and in a tense situation, if the right spark was provided, just a little more likely to respond with violence.
In the distance, the roar of hundreds of bestial voices rose on the air as the Lizard Clan warriors arrived. They had their spark.
It has begun.
Chris and Lucia were in the middle of a conversation when a Karayan warrior burst into the tent.
"There's trouble, chief," he said.
Lucia sprang to her feet. The Karayan chieftain had appeared sluggish from the firewine, but now she seemed instantly restored. Chris stood up beside her, finding that her head spun just a little bit. She was definitely feeling the wine.
"What's going on?" Lucia asked.
The man shook his head. "It's the whole damn camp. You've got to see this." He turned and ran back out. Lucia cast a suspicious glance at Chris before running after the man without a word.
Someone entered the tent behind Chris. She turned to find a Zexen soldier saluting her. "Madam," the blonde man said, "it's a Grasslander raid!"
Chris's mind reeled. Why now? Could it be more of the illusions? Her hand went instinctively to her hip before she remembered that she was not wearing her sword. She ran outside.
The camp was ablaze. Tents had been turned to bonfires, and between them, men and women ran screaming. Chris turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. The entire camp seemed to have been drawn into the sudden violence.
"It's the Lizard Clan," the soldier said. He ran up to her side and held out her sheathed sword. Chris took it, and fastened it to her belt. Fury pounded through her skull as she surveyed the scene. Somehow, she pushed the anger down. "What happened?" she asked.
The soldier shook his head. "I do not know, madam. Lizard Clan reinforcements struck without warning. I suppose they must have used their secret tunnels."
"What about the knights?" she cut in. Goddess, the camps are too close together. The troops are too scattered. This could turn into a bloodbath. Her eyes turned to the huge orange-colored pavilion at the center of the Zexen camp. The arsenal. To her relief, the pavilion still stood. Fire had not touched any of its neighbors, yet.
"They knights are scattered all over the place," the soldier said. "There's no organized resistance, yet."
"What's your name, soldier?"
"Lieutenant Nash Clovis," he replied, snapping a salute.
Chris turned to look into his eyes. "Lieutenant Nash; find Sir Salome and inform him that we're regrouping around the arsenal. Go!" she commanded.
Nash gave another salute and ran off.
Drawing her sword, Chris dashed towards the arsenal pavilion. She had just made her way through a narrow lane filled with broken, discarded crates and emerged into the home stretch before the pavilion when a pair of arrows pierced the ground next to her feet.
Feeling a surge of anger, Chris threw herself down behind an overturned table. She peered out to see the bowmen – two Karayan warriors in a larger group, emerging from behind a tent. They spotted her, and another arrow slammed into the table, burying the arrowhead halfway through the wood, like a misplaced nail. Chris flinched, and felt cold. Another few inches deep, and the arrow would have pierced her head, too.
The Karayans called out to each other. Chris realized what was happening: they were circling around, trying to flank her. Making a swift decision, Chris grabbed the canvas of the nearby tent and cut a long slit in the fabric.
She was parting the canvas when she heard footsteps behind her. It might have been too late, if not for the man's angry yell as he charged her. Chris spun around in time to see a brawny Karayan warrior leap at her. She brought her sword up in an arc, slamming his knife away. In the moment it took the man to react, Chris buried her blade in his throat. She put her foot to the dying man's stomach and kicked him down.
More arrows struck the table, and one even hit the tent behind her. It was time to go. She leaped through into the tent's dim interior. Slain bodies lay strewn about a dozen narrow beds. Most of them appeared to have been sleeping when the attack came. They were unarmored, and without their weapons.
Chris quivered with anger, but again, somehow, she managed to master herself. Strange, she thought. What is this heady, intoxicating feeling? She shook the thought off and ran out the front of the tent. Weaving between supply tents towards the arsenal pavilion, Chris turned a corner and saw a Karayan with his back to her raise a knife. She instinctively stabbed him through the gut. He did not even see her before he died.
Leaping over the man's body, she came upon a violent struggle between a group of Zexen soldiers and Lizard Clan warriors. Hearty cries of "Silver Maiden!" and "For Zexen!" rose from the soldiers as they recognized her. Chris joined the fray.
One of the Lizard Clan warriors raised his massive glaive and brought it down on her. Chris had to raise her sword and push her hand against the flat of the back to parry the attack, and still the blow made her hands ring like a cymbal. Hands still quivering, Chris used her offhand to push the shaft of the glaive down and swung her sword, slitting the warrior's throat. The lizard locked shocked as he died.
The battle turned quickly, and the remaining enemies were driven off before Chris had time to react. The soldiers looked to her for leadership and guidance. She issued a series of quick orders, and the men ran off on their respective errands. Some of the men she kept with her.
Chris stopped by her own tent but found it ransacked. The bodies of several of her soldiers surrounded the tent. She felt a pang of remorse. A battle had been fought her, and for what? Some paltry belongings, or perhaps for the pride of getting to protect the captain of the knights' tent? Again, the anger she thought she had conquered rose within her. What a waste.
"Lady Chris!" a familiar voice called out. Startled back into awareness, Chris turned to see Percival ride up the path. "Thank the Goddess!" he exclaimed. Behind him, a small contingent of soldiers followed.
Percival face was bruised in several places, and his neck was drenched with horrifying blood. Chris's mouth twisted in fear for a moment until she concluded that none of the blood was his. Chris shook her head and glanced around her. "Sir Percival, report. What in the world is happening?" Her heart was pounding, but she tried to moderate the tone of her voice and calm herself.
"As far as I've been able to tell, the Lizard Clan initiated an attack, and the barbarians naturally sided with their allies. Things are a mess here," he said, glowering as he spoke, "and I don't even know where to begin with recounting losses." He shook his head furiously. "Borus and Alron counterattacked. They're hitting the Karayan village, and the battle's been shifting east on the plains."
Chris felt stunned. "An attack on the Karayan village? Who gave that order?"
Percival shrugged. "Who knows. Things have been crazy here, milady."
"This is a disaster," Chris concluded. "Once the barbarians realize the target of Sir Borus and Sir Alron's counterattack, they will surround them and overwhelm them. Wi will have to cut open a path of retreat for them."
"Milady," Percival said, saluted. Turning his head, he motioned for the soldiers to move and shouted "Bring Lady Chris a horse!"
"Arrow Feather?" Chris asked, hopefull.
"With Salome," Percival explained.
A soldier led a brown mare from the tether lines and handed the reins to Chris. She leapt into the saddle and commanded the assembled soldiers towards Karaya. All the while, the anger was growing stronger, more intoxicating. She felt as if her skull would split from it.
The sickening scent of burning flesh filled Alron's nostrils as he trotted his gelding, Rapier, through the remains of Karaya. Ignoring the stench, he reveled in the triumphant feeling of conquest. His blood danced in his veins, and his eyes were wide with excitement as Rapier stepped over the broken remains of the barbarian dwellings. The sword in his hands was sheathed in blood.
Finally. The time has come to sweep the savages from the land. "Never again!" he shouted. "Never again shall you harm the people of Zexen!"
Around him, soldiers went about their work efficiently, running through the wreckage in teams of three. They searched for survivors, but at this point, there were only corpses to be found. Instead, they took their frustration out on the village itself, breaking everything that came into their path.
Borus was somewhere out there, too, hunting. Alron hadn't seen him for a time, but he could hear the man's voice. The blonde knight had proven more ferocious than Alron could ever have imagined. A true patriot, Borus.
A symphony of furious screams alerted Alron to the arrival of the barbarian warriors. Amur Plains seemed to resound with the force of their footfalls.
"To arms!" Alron shouted. "Rally to me!"
Goddess, grant me the strength to annihilate the barbarians!
Flames lit the darkening sky in hues of livid orange as Chris approached the battlefield. She heard the battle before she could see it, and when she crested the hill, she stared down on a horrible scene.
Flames still rose from the skeleton of the barbarian settlement. All that remained of Karaya was ashes and rubble. Is THIS the work of the knights? Chris wondered. She thought she would be sick.
Sounds of battle drew her attention to the far end of the ruined settlement, where a handful of knights led a small regiment of soldiers against an army of Karayans and Lizard Clan warriors. The barbarian ranks swelled with each passing moment as more of their kind emerged from all directions.
Chris turned to regard her own soldiers. She had engaged in several smaller skirmishes along the way, and her own ranks had grown larger as smaller detachments of knights and soldiers joined her. Percival, of course, was beside her.
She turned her head to yell "Strike a wedge into the enemy's right flank; open a path for our brethren!" Spurring her borrowed horse into motion, she yelled "Charge!" and set off with Percival at her side.
Chris kept her eyes forward as they flowed down the hill in a wedge formation with Chris at the point. Although the mare she rode was unfamiliar to her, she was an expertly trained steed, and responded fluidly to each command given.
Scattered groups of barbarians swarmed in from every direction to meet the charging knights. Chris unsheathed her sword and yelled a battle cry, which was taken up by the others. Then they were upon the barbarians.
Chris swung her sword, and the warrior in her way fell. Her charge carried her past, and she came face to face with a tall Lizard Clan warrior. The warrior levelled his glaive to skewer her with her own momentum. Chris reined the mare in and made her rear up, batted the glaive aside with her sword, and commanded the mare to trample the lizard. The mare's hooves slammed into the warrior's chest and knocked him down.
She could see Borus and Alron and the others through the throng before her. She was close now, close enough to watch them band together in a fighting retreat. Close enough to see them get surrounded, and run out of space. There is no time!
Stopped in her charge, Chris fought to keep aloft. She nudged her horse aside, dodging a devastating glaive, and leaned down to slash across the warrior's scaled shoulder. Commanding the horse forward, she cut past an unbalanced knight and stabbed her sword through a Karayan fighter's side. The warrior's pained scream was barely audible in the battle's din.
Steel flashed in the corner of her eye, and she turned just in time to parry a Karayan's dagger. She cut the man down in a single furious blow. Another man ran towards her from the side, but suddenly Percival was there, his steed slamming into Chris's attacker and trampling him underfoot. Chris met Percival's eyes for a moment before turning her horse to survey the situation. The path was opening, but was there enough time?
"Break out!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her horse reared to avoid a swinging glaive, and she leaned down to deliver a vicious slash. She felt something pierce the armor at her hip, but her flesh remained unbroken. In the chaos, someone or something grabbed her belt and yanked, and she tumbled over to hang against the mare's flank. Panic threatened to almost overwhelm the rage she felt.
No time to get back into the saddle. No other choice. She grabbed the stirrup and sawed at it with her sword. The leather tore and she struck the ground with a clang of metal pieces of armor. The wind was knocked from her lungs. Looking up, she saw a Karayan staring down at her, blade in hand. She rolled between the mare's feet, praying it would not trample her, and came up on the other side. She scrambled to her feet, bowling into a barbarian's back. Catching her balance faster than he did, she switched grip on her hilt and slit his throat as he turned.
"Break out!" she shouted again. The flow of battle was turning against them. Percival shouted something from nearby. She turned to look for him.
With a furious bellow, a Lizard Clan warrior charged her. She leapt aside, but too late. The warrior's glaive raked across her side, opening a painful wound. The warrior swung the glaive around at her head. Ducking, Chris slammed her sword into the great weapon's shaft. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard her blade crack. Before she could react, a Karayan rounded the lizard. She swung her blade instinctively—
—and her sword shattered two-thirds down the blade, sending shards of steel into the attacker's arm. He roared, but pressed the attack. Chris reached out to grab his arm, but felt the glaive careen off of her armor. The force of the partial blow took her breath away, and she staggered, grasping the Karayan's wrist.
She heard him scream, and the lizard added his voice to the choir in the next instant. As she cleared her eyes, gasping for breath, she saw a knight looming above her. It took a moment to recognize Borus: His armor was covered in blood, and his eyes were wild. For a moment, the knight looked so fearsome, so monstrous, Chris felt a surge of panic at the mere sight of her companion.
For a moment, they were both speechless.
"Borus…?" she managed.
"Milady, your horse," he said, breathing heavily.
Chris turned to find the mare prancing nervously nearby. She could not believe her good fortune. In three swift steps, she ran to the horse and mounted her. She fumbled for a moment, and remembered the severed stirrup. She turned the mare towards Borus.
"We are withdrawing," she said. "Now."
To her shock, Borus actually glared at her. For a long moment, the man looked defiant enough to argue with her command. Then a look of shame passed over his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. "Yes, milady."
Goddess, what madness is this?
"Sound the retreat," Chris ordered, "We are leaving at once."
"I think not, Silver Maiden," a familiar voice called out.
Lucia strode towards her, flanked by a Lizard Clan captain with a colorful headdress. Dupa, she guessed. She had never met the man, but she knew all the Grasslander chiefs and captains.
Borus shifted his horse to stand between Chris and the Karayan chieftain. Chris raised a hand to halt him. "Chief Lucia. We are withdrawing. Let us not spill any more blood today."
"No," Dupa said. "She-devil, you die here. For the murder of our chieftain, your blood will feed the Grasslands." He spun his glaive, moving the massive weapon with surprising deftness for a man of his size.
Lucia's eyes were cold, and blood dripped from the coiled whip in her hands. "You have murdered my people, knight," she said, cracking her whip.
Chris stared at them in confusion. "I do not understand…" she said. Murdered chieftain…? This must be some sort of mistake. But Karaya… This was no mistake. "No more blood needs to be spilled here today—" Chris began.
Dupa roared, swinging his glaive in a wide arc as he charged. Lucia followed. Backing up, Chris panicked, feeling her hip for the blade that had been broken. All around her, knight and solder alike seemed to shrink back against the barbarian reinforcements.
"Halt, or I'll slit this boy's throat!" someone hollered over the chaos. Lucia's face turned, and the chieftain's eyes widened with terror. Chris turned to see what she had seen. There, astride his horse, Alron approached, flanked by a pair of knights. One of the knights held a lifeless boy in his arms, sword pressed against the boy's throat. With growing horror, Chris recognized the boy.
"Hugo!" she gasped.
"NO!" Lucia screamed. The Grasslanders all ground to a halt, and the fighting stopped immediately.
"Call a standstill, or your son is dead!" Alron said.
Chris felt as if her mind was mired in a thick fog. Her blood still boiled with anger, but when she looked at Alron, something inside her rebelled. Her eyes turned to Hugo. The boy was unconscious, but breathing. This is no way for knights to act. This is vile! And yet, it had all gone too far. She could not undo what had been done. Though our honor is stained for it, what has been started must be finished.
"Release him," Lucia said firmly. Her voice balanced between pleading and commanding. The woman trembled with emotion. Only sheer force of will kept her rooted in the spot.
"Not yet," Alron said. "There are others; the villagers are being held elsewhere. If you want them to live…"
"He lies," Dupa said simply. "There are no other survivors."
"A knight does not lie!" Chris exclaimed. "Not even to an enemy." That much of knightly honor remains, at least.
Lucia seemed torn, nervously rubbing her whip. "Can you guarantee his life, and theirs, Silver Maiden?" she demanded to know.
"Yes," Chris said simply. "He will be released once we are safely within Brass Castle, and so will the others."
Lucia hesitated for a moment before nodding. "So be it," she said. Worry seemed to drain from her eyes, leaving only hatred. "To think that we drank together, and shared stories. I didn't think you would turn out to be such a coward, Silver Maiden."
Chris winced, stung by the insult.
"Hold your tongue, barbarian," Borus growled. "Or I'll cut it from your mouth."
"Borus, calm down!" Percival shouted, laying a hand on the bloody knight's shoulder to keep him from charging.
Suddenly, an arrow struck Dupa's glaive with a clang. The Lizard Clan captain roared as he whirled around to find the source. Chris turned to see Roland and Salome thundering down the hillside towards the battlefield, accompanied by a few dozen soldiers.
"Step aside, lizard, or the next one skewers your head!" the elf called out.
"Coward!" Dupa roared. "Let's see you try!"
Lucia hissed. "Dupa, no!" she exclaimed.
Roland reined his horse in and raised his bow again. "You're no match for a true knight, lizard," he shouted.
Growling loudly, Dupa stabbed the butt of his glaive against the ground in frustration. "One day, warm-blood, we shall see," he bellowed. A collective cry rose from the assembled Lizard Clan warriors, as though their wordless voices backed their captain's statement.
Shivering, Chris motioned her horse forward. "Chief Lucia. Again, I promise that the terms laid forth will stand. Let us end the bloodshed, at least for today. Mistakes have been made today…"
"Yes, Silver Maiden. A mistake has been made," Lucia said. "But the mistake is yours, in attacking the defenseless people of Karaya. Mark my words; this is not over. You ironheads cling to your city, but Karaya is more than a village. We will never yield."
Chris met the chieftain's gaze and somehow did not turn away. She tried to hide her shame. "We are leaving," she said.
Lucia's features contorted with poorly concealed rage as she looked up at Chris. Her words were spoken in a furious haste. "I am disappointed. I only hope that one day the spirits will give you children of your own, so that you can truly understand your cowardice on this day."
Chris froze as the realization suddenly dawned on her. "Hugo… He is your son…" It was obvious in hindsight – the family resemblance was there. How could I have been so blind?
Alron chuckled behind her. "Don't worry, barbarian. I'll get him back to you in one piece."
"Enough!" Chris snapped. She shot a murderous glare at the knight, but received no reaction beyond a cryptic smile. She turned her gaze on Lucia again. "If it was only my life, I would gladly surrender Hugo and die a warrior... But, you know the duties of a leader better than I do."
For a moment only, she thought she saw surprise in the chieftain's eyes. Chris turned her head, galloping through the path that opened as the barbarians parted like a wave.
As Hugo drifted back to consciousness, the first sensation that met him was a throbbing ache that seemed to run through every fiber of his body. His jaw hurt, his side hurt, his chest hurt, and most of all, his thigh hurt. He tried to open his eyes, and a wave of nausea overwhelmed him.
"Looks like our little rat is awake," a voice said, very near. Hugo's mind struggled to place the owner of that voice, but the sound of it knotted his stomach. "Send him back to sleep," the voice ordered.
"No! He will not be harmed any further," a woman's voice demanded. This voice was familiar too, but rather than filling Hugo with dread, it had a soothing effect on him.
"Yes, milady," a third voice answered, right next to Hugo's ear.
Hugo groaned, fighting off another wave of nausea. It hurt to think. He could hear hooves clopping dirt, and snatches of muted conversation here and there. They were moving. He was lying on something that bobbed and jounced beneath him. Horses…?
He managed to open his eyes. At first, the waning light of the sun blinded him, but as his eyes began to adjust, he saw armored men and women astride horses. Ironheads? Why are they…? Why am I…? Every part of him was sore, so he tried to shift his position, but something held him fast. Hands, he realized. Strong hands pinned him to a soldier's breastplate. He was on a horse, and the horse's rider had him restrained.
"Let me go…" he said, but the words came out a mumble. Hugo felt his mind returning to him, bit by bit, and with it came anger. "Let me go, I said!" He tried to shake loose, but the soldier's grip wouldn't budge.
"Shut up, barbarian," said the man holding him. Off to one side, someone chuckled. Hugo turned his head to see who'd made the sound. To his right, a knight trotted his horse beside him, keeping an even pace with the soldier holding Hugo. The knight's face jolted Hugo's memory, and filled him with rage.
"You!" he hissed. "Coward! Rune-breaker!"
"How was your sleep, barbarian?" Alron said, smirking.
Hugo put every bit of strength he could muster into escaping the hands that gripped him. He flailed his arms, he kicked his legs, he slammed his head against the breastplate – managing only to get a headache – and bit at the soldier's hands.
"Hugo! Please listen to me," the woman's voice said from his left. This time, he recognized the voice.
"Chris! You're the one who did this?" Somehow, that hurt even more than the beating Alron had given him. "I should've known… I should never have trusted you!"
"Listen to me," she said, voice raised nearly to a shout. When he went quiet, she took a deep breath and carried on in a lower voice: "What happened at Karaya was a mistake. It was all a misunderstanding. The moment we return to Brass Castle, you will be released and granted safe passage back to your lands. Everything will be worked out. I swear it."
Hugo caught on something she'd said, and an icy cold feeling enveloped him. "What? What happened at Karaya?" Chris lowered her eyes, and silence gripped the knights and soldiers around him. Everyone but Alron, who let out a derisive snort. When Hugo turned his eyes on him, the knight met his gaze with a knowing smirk.
"Chris, tell me—"
A high-pitched shriek cut through the air from above.
Fubar!
The gryphon swooped down. Even battle-trained panicked. The soldier holding struggled to control his mount, which reared up and stumbled back and forth. Squinting up into the setting sun, Hugo made out the silhouettes of three figures mounted on the gryphon's back.
"Hugo!" Lulu shouted from above. Sergeant Joe clutched to the boy's waist, and behind them, Lilly embraced the duck clan warrior. Hugo was surprised to see her on Fubar's back – he would've thought the girl would be long gone by now.
"No, Lu!" Hugo shouted back. "Stay away!" Again, he tried to fight free, and this time his teeth found the soldier's unprotected wrist and bit down, drawing blood. The soldier yelped in pain but did not let go. He rammed his fist into Hugo's stomach and knocked the wind out of him.
Lulu leaped from the gryphon's back, brandishing his dagger. He plunged down and slammed into the soldier's back. The dagger struck armor plates, but Lulu used his momentum to wrench at the soldier's shoulder, tearing the man from his saddle. The soldier hit the ground hard, Lulu on top of him. For a moment, they were wrestling for position, and the soldier's strong arms closed on Lulu's throat. Then Lulu buried his dagger in the man's chest and kept stabbing until the soldier wasn't moving.
Hugo fell from the saddle, but managed twist in the air and land on his feet. He stepped down hard on his bad leg, and found that it held. Someone's healed my wounds, he realized.
Alron charged towards him, sword raised. Cursing, Hugo looked around for a weapon. Seeing his knife strapped to the horse's saddlebags, he tore it loose, stumbling when the strap came undone. He got back up just in time to raise the blade and parry Alron's sword. The force of the knight's swing knocked him back two steps.
Alron leaped from his horse and advanced on Hugo.
"Come, barbarian. I've no use for you anymore. Let's end this."
Their blades met, again and again. Step by step, Hugo was driven back. He gritted his teeth. I can't lose. Not against him. Not again. But Alron was the better fighter. He was toying with Hugo, and soon enough, it would all be over.
Chris came galloping towards them. "Cease this at once!" she cried out. "I have sworn, on my honor, that this boy shall not be—"
"Coward!" Lulu shrieked. The boy's face was twisted with mindless fury. "Murderer! You'll pay for Karaya!"
"Lulu, don't—!" Hugo shouted.
Screaming a wordless battle cry, Lulu charged to meet Chris's galloping horse. The knight's eyes widened and her sword leaped from its sheath. For a moment, there was shock on Chris's face, and Lulu seized the opening, leaping and thrusting his dagger at her back. Something dark came over Chris's eyes. She turned, swung her sword to knock Lulu's dagger aside, and countered with a perfect thrust.
Lulu staggered back, staring at Chris's sword sprouting from his stomach. The dagger fell from his limp fingers, and he slumped against the blade.
Hugo screamed. The world shrank to a tiny sphere, focused on Lulu's lifeless body. Hugo tried to breathe, but there wasn't enough air in his lungs. There wasn't enough blood in his veins. There wasn't enough pain in his heart.
Something inside of him had been broken forever.