AGNOMAKHOS

by Ulquiorra9000

Chapter 10

For the first time, Alex awoke as a criminal.

A man, probably the jail warden, rapped on Alex's wooden cell door with something hard, and the sound jolted Alex from his uneasy sleep. He sat up on his cot and cleared his throat. "What is it?" he called out.

"Breakfast, kid. Wake up," the man said curtly. Judging by the sound, the man walked past Alex's cell and repeated the process on the next cell, then went on.

Alex sighed and stood in his cell. The room was about ten feet squared and eight high, made of pale gray stone brick. A narrow window near the top admitted morning sunlight, but the warm rays made no difference to Alex's bitter mood. After all, he had been brought here only the night before, escorted in chains and changed into a simple gray outfit. He now wore a thin sleeveless tunic and trousers, and cheap leather sandals. No doubt that the other prisoners would be dressed the same way.

Two minutes later, a guard unlocked Alex's cell door with a click and escorted him out into this level's main hallway. Dozens more gray-uniformed men shuffled along, shoulders hunched and heads bowed. Guards in sky-blue armor walked beside them, scimitars held in hand as a warning.

Alex tried to keep his face impassive as he joined the line of hulking men, but on the inside, he still burned with indignant rage. By now, he had come to realize that attacking Kulla had been rash and crazy. But this? How could the council of Twelve and the colonels do this to him? Never in the history of Meletis had such an injustice been committed! At least, as far as he was concerned. Most likely, Kulla was in his barracks office, smug about his victory. Thinking about that man's face seemed to double Alex's fury.

Alex cooled off a little when he walked into the mess hall and smelled breakfast. He didn't care how cheap the food was, he was starving and he had a funny taste in his mouth. So, he accepted a metal tray of food when it was given and sat at a table with other inmates. Barred windows lit up the room.

General chatter buzzed in the room while the guards stood at the corners with their beefy arms folded and swords at their belts. Alex bit into a cheap wheat roll and nibbled at salted pork, trying to avoid eye contact with the others. He was definitely one of the smaller inmates, and didn't want to pick a fight or get dragged into one. Better to stay low.

Alex's silence didn't last long, though. The man across from him and to the left caught his eye and spoke up, a short-haired man with a curly tattoo on his temple. Alex didn't know what the symbol meant. "Hey, kid. You're kinda small. What are ya in for?"

Alex swallowed a bite of chewy pork. "Nothing."

Several nearby men chuckled at that. "Come on, don't be shy, now," the man grinned. "We're all bad men in here. We ain't gonna judge you."

"I was court-martialed and expelled from the Reverent Army on charges of insubordination and assaulting a superior officer," Alex grated. "That's the whole story."

The nearby men raised their eyebrows at that, and the speaker leaned foward, intrigued. "You an Army kid? Don't you guys have your own prison?"

Alex pursed his lips. "We do, but I was sent here to set an example."

The men laughed. "Tough break, kid," the tattooed man commented. He took a sip of his juice. "Funny, on the outside, we'd be enemies. But not here."

Alex couldn't help himself. "Enemies? Are you with the rebellion?"

"And proud of it," the man said firmly, his grin fading into a snarl. "The council taxed me nearly to death! Became homeless, so Agnomakhos took me in. It's all I got left, and now I'm in here 'cause of it." He raised his voice. "Purphoros burn that council of pigs and whores!" Inmates voiced their approval while the guards yelled at him to shut up.

"Purphoros?" Alex blurted.

"He's supporting us, you see," the tattooed man explained, lowering his voice. "That's why we wear red. Our leader prayed to Purphoros to give us the strength to make change around here and burn away all the corruption."

Alex frowned. "You're awfully chatty."

"Because I've got a point to make," the tattooed man said earnestly. "Kid, you've been on the inside. Of the Reverent Army, I mean. You know how screwed up it is! And now you're here. Of all people, you oughta join us the most."

"Me? Join Agnomakhos?"

"Why not? You're like me. Got nothin' left."

"I... I don't know."

"Your skills would be wasted otherwise. What did you do in the Army?"

Alex made a fist. "I was a battle-wise mage. I control fire." Here in the prison, however, the walls were enchanted to dampen all magic (the warden had smugly informed him of this fact upon his arrival). Not even a trace of Alex's fiery red mana could manifest itself.

"A fire mage! Get a load of that!" the tattooed man howled, and the nearby prisoners looked impressed. "Kid, it's clear to me. You've gotta join. What's your name?"

"I'm Alex, but what difference does it make? We're in here for the long term."

"My mame's Daro. Tell me, Alex, how long's your sentence?"

Alex's stomach clenched. "Ten years. I was told last night." Ten whole years of my life gone! How much could I have done with myself in that time?

"How about a week or so instead, give or take?"

Alex had taken a bite of his roll, and he nearly choked on it when he heard that. He coughed. "Huh?"

Daro lowered his voice nearly to a whisper. "Lots of guys in here hate the council and Reverent Army, and whoever in here wasn't part of Agnomakhos wants to join now. Right before I was captured the week before last, I was told that Valerie was planning to bust this place open and recruit us all into the rebellion. I get the feeling that'll happen soon."

Alex stared. "How can you say that so casually?"

"The leader recruited all kinds of people to our cause," Daro said. "Like this mercenary called Lakram. He can blow up anything. I bet he'll help us get outta here."

Alex shook his head. "I doubt that."

Daro slammed a fist on the table, startling Alex. "Stand for something, Alex! You've got nothing left. Agnomakhos will take you in. Trust me."

"I'll have to see."

"Well, see it fast," Daro said impatiently. "We've gotta take our city back, Alex. Before Lakram comes, I want an answer."

"Fine."

*o*o*o*o*

"All right. Try it again!"

Dakly stood back as his employees strained to lift a large construct with a series of ropes and blue mana. The men had assembled in the workshop's backyard, which was the only place roomy enough to test Valerie's design. After weeks of hard work and volunteer labor, pieces of Valerie's machine were complete and ready for testing.

And they sure needed it.

"It's falling over!" one man shouted as the machine's piece swayed dangerously.

Dakly ground his teeth. "I can see that! Get it steady!"

The men shouted as they fought to regain control of the massive wooden device. Ten meters tall and build like an insect's leg, the device had been made from hundreds of hand-carved wood pieces, metal braces, and ropes and pulleys. Strong, multi-layered blue enchantments kept the pieces working together, but balance was still an issue, due to the heavy metal plating that would protect the device during battle.

Metal and wood groaned as the massive leg was heaved into place by ropes. For a few moments, it stayed still and towered over the men. Then, the sorcerers of Dakly's workshop reached out and accessed the leg's enchantments. Obediently, the leg crouched at its joints and took a tentative step forward, every piece working in concert with mechanical precision.

Dakly felt hope soar until the leg over-extended itself and collapsed with a loud thud. Men scrambled out of the way just before it landed, but Dakly ran over and checked that everyone was unhurt before he studied the leg, comparing it to Valerie's blueprints.

"This armor really isn't working," one of Dakly's assistants said, pointing. "It's just too heavy. The stress on the joints is -"

"It's a battle machine," Dakly snapped. He was exhausted from weeks of hard work managing this project. "There has to be armor."

"But the body has seats for archers," the assistant argued, pointing at the blueprints. "Combine that and soldier escort, and armor isn't really needed. This thing will have enough protection."

Dakly frowned impatiently. "Since when are you a military expert? Do you have Reverent Army training?"

"No."

"Boss, I think he's right," another man said, wiping his brow. "We've got to lose this armor. We're behind schedule as it is! If the leg works better without the extra weight, we can finish the other legs and work on the body and head."

"Well..." Dakly hestated. Huge as this leg was, there were three more half-finished legs sitting in the workshop, and only the body's bare frame had been constructed. The Agnomakhos rebellion couldn't wait forever for this project to finish. Valerie needed it.

"This would be easier if the machine had wheels like any other sensible vehicle," another man complained. "This is the most complicated thing I've ever seen."

Dakly sighed. "A wheeled platform doesn't have the vantage point necessary for the design. But I think you guys have a point about the weight distribution. Fine. Men, remove that plating and prep the leg for testing in two hours. No pun intended, but we'll see how things stand after that."

The men chuckled at that and clustered around the leg to strip the plating. Dakly allowed himself a small smile and stepped into the shade of a tree, folding his arms. He supposed that his men were right. Valerie had wanted armor plating for her machine, but she was the military commander of her rebellion. She would have to figure out how to get along without armor on her machine. Dakly's job was to get this thing operational by any means necessary.

Besides, just the presence of this thing will give us a major psychological advantage, armor or not, Dakly thought smugly, looking down at the blueprints again. The Reverent Army would never see this thing coming!