Brave Men Die: Part 2 (18 page)

Ara stood there at the back of the concerned Buckthorne men, for whom the man dead before them had been more than just the figurehead of Buckthorne. Her arms folded across her breasts and her eyes were downcast. Pollux walked toward her and the breach and stopped dead when she put her hand on his chest. He swore she could feel his heart racing through his armour. He didn’t turn his head to look at her, he couldn’t quite do it. Rather he looked at the battle, looked at his men who kept the Kyzantines on the other side of Black Claw.

‘Are you alright?’ Ara asked.

‘Doesn’t matter right now. I’ve got Kyzantines to kill.’

Pollux brushed her hand away gently and walked off to the massing troops behind the gate. Ara stood there for a while, still, watching him walk back to be killed.

‘Be careful,’ she whispered, staring at his back before taking off after him.

Pollux pushed his way back through the soldiers, offered words of encouragement as he passed. He got to the front line to be greeted by Octans cleaving a woman in two.

‘You’re the new captain, Octans.’

‘Pollux?’

‘That’s an order. Deal with it.’

Octans looked at him sideways. ‘Yes sir.’

Pollux held his sword in front of his body, waited for the attack, turned the strike away and countered, driving the blade into the man’s neck. His method was cold and calculated, the emotion and the rage of the baron’s death buried, and he threw himself into his work. There was nothing better for it. The next strikes came quickly in a flurry of blows. He blocked and parried and with the help of the Fists killed all those who came.

He took a breath. There was a pause in the attack, a moment where the enemy held its ground and waited.

‘We need those doors closed. We have to buy some time to get them back upright and fix the bloody things.’

He looked over at Octans. ‘Are you ready for this?’

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Not really.’

‘We are going to need a third to hold the other side.’

‘I’ll do it,’ answered Tove, stepping forward.

Pollux looked at him. He was their age, young and enthusiastic.

‘This is suicidal,’ announced Pollux.

‘I know sir, but we all got our demons to face.’

Pollux stepped forward and the other two followed. The rest of the Fists stood around watching as the insanity unfurled before their eyes.

‘Get the gates,’ Ara screamed, realising what the fucking idiot had planned. Soldiers immediately set about lifting the doors.

Out of nowhere an electrical storm burst into existence. Lightning struck the Empire’s soldiers, attracted to the steel they held, and formed an effective semicircle defence around the three. Pollux quickly deduced that Daria had been made aware of the breach and had acted, pouring her energy into defending the open doors. The Kyzantines retreated from the attack, the crackling spell keeping them at bay.

Pollux stood at the opening of the Black Claw Gate. He was about a metre in front of the wall, vulnerable to any attack. The plan was simple: to make sure the enemy did not pass through or else the kingdom would be overrun. Even if he and the two others survived the attack long enough for the gates to be reinforced they would still be on the outside of them, keeping the Kyzantines back.

He snapped his head around. ‘Get the gates fucking closed!’ he ordered. Spittle flew into the air. The enemy came rushing forward once they realised he was fucking insane. They ran through the electrical barrier that managed to stop most but not all, bodies frying as their companions burst through, encouraged by the threats of their commanders who stood comfortably out of range. Pollux knew this would be a real test, better than any drill, better than single combat in the arena. His actions here — the shift of his foot, the angle of his sword — the detail was the most important thing now and would determine if he lived or died. Pollux muttered a prayer to the watching gods to look over him and his men and keep them safe.

Swinging his sword in a large arc from his lower right side, it cleaved through the torsos of three men as it swept to the left, stopping as he craftily swung it around his body, driving it into the next man. Octans and Tove moved to either side, making it impossible for the enemy to out number him. They effectively covered the entrance between them with space to swing and room to move. Blocking the first overhead strike on his shield, then turning another blade away with his sword, he stepped forward on his right. The press was frantic as those Kyzantines behind the spell urged the front ranks forward and they reluctantly came. Lightning flashed and a woman shrieked as she was electrocuted. The ones that made it through came all at once, shields and blades thrust in his face. He kept his body behind his shield as he lashed out at every opportunity.

Pollux’s heart raced. He panicked as they kept coming. This was a fucking stupid plan. The others were being slowly forced back. Something needed to change. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In, out. His eyes blinked open and his arm launched out taking a man’s head clean off. He whipped his blade around his head and brought it down on a woman’s arm. It seared straight through the muscle and bone and she screamed as he kicked her back.

Pollux’s attack gave him some room to breathe and inspired the others. They dealt with those in their faces and created some space. There was some room between them and the enemy. They came again but the three Murukans were ready.

The enemy hesitated as murmurs moved through their throng. Pollux, Octans and Tove seized upon the opportunity and killed the last five that had made it past the storm as the other Kyzantines pulled further back and the twang of bows sounded at the back of the enemy force. The arrows filled the sky as they flew up before hailing down upon their intended victims. All three raised their shields to halt the oncoming rain of death, but the first of the arrows struck a purple-toned shield that encompassed the three men. Pollux turned to look at the concentration on Ara’s face as she maintained the spell for the entirety of the downpour. With the arrows spent the Kyzantines charged again while the remains of the Fists barely managed to move the broken doors a scant metre.

Octans stooped low and tossed the first soldier over his shoulder before ramming his sword into another’s guts. Viciously he stepped back on the fallen soldier’s neck, crushing the bones with his heel. Shifting his gaze forward, he watched on as the horde moved against them. With a wearied sigh he returned to the task at hand, slashed open a man’s face before driving him back into the others.

Smashing his shield against another’s face, he broke another’s nose with the pommel of his sword. He glimpsed the blade come down but had no time to do anything about it. It cracked him on his pauldron and reverberated into his eardrum, deafening him. His arm was wracked with pain and he could no longer lift his sword. In anguish he kicked out, connecting with the man’s abdomen before swinging his shield into the advancing group to hold them at bay.

Pollux and Tove were holding on, still fighting. His arm felt heavy. He needed to lift it. Panic climbed up the back of his throat. He needed to deal with this, get on top of things, or these were going to be his last moments on this earth. Octans couldn’t let them down. He gripped his sword tighter until the hilt squeezed hard against the newly forming blisters on his hand. He took a deep breath in, then out, and stepped forward into the fray. He took out a charging man by ramming the edge of his shield into his throat. The man lost his feet underneath him and fell in a bloody heap.

Octans turned his head to see one Kyzantine ram a spear into Tove’s thigh. He didn’t scream but plunged his blade into the man’s chest before snapping the spear’s shaft. He hobbled back a step, found his balance, and killed another. Octans strained and lifted his sword arm. If Tove could keep fighting, he bloody well could too. He took the next strike on the steel’s edge, turned it away and slammed the blade down splitting open his opponent’s head. Octans tugged it out and put it straight back into another’s throat.

With the hinges broken Ara realised that the amount of men there could never close the two massive wooden doors without some sort of magical aid. Not in time to save the lives of the three fighting so valiantly outside. The lightning storm was waning as Daria tired from the continuous casting. Stepping behind Pollux, Ara closed her eyes to capture the spell in her mind and concentrated on casting. Balls of flame appeared in her palms as she spoke the incantation for Lava Orbs. Slowly the flames engulfed her arms and she prepared to release the spell.

‘Get down!’ screamed Ara, stepping forward and launching the orbs of fire at the enemy, burning those in its direct path. Those around the burning men backed off, keeping them from stepping into the strike range of the Murukans. Fear kept them at bay.

‘That won’t buy us much time. We must act quickly.’ Turning away she ordered the men to push harder as she cast a levitation spell on the first door.

‘Now push!’ she ordered.

Ara couldn’t tell if the sweat that trickled down her face was from the humidity or from the anxiety that crept into her bones. She wondered whether the boys standing outside the gates risking their lives would survive. Despite his difficult nature, Ara would definitely be put out if Pollux got himself killed now.

Twenty soldiers moved at her barked command and began pushing against the door with all their strength. Slowly it started to move back into place, inch by inch. The way it was going winter would arrive before the bloody doors were closed.

Pollux was relieved at the breather but knew the doors would need time as he slowly got back up on his feet. He heard some muttered words and realised that Ara had cast another incantation behind him and noticed a lack of fire balls trailing overhead. He had no idea what Ara had cast, but he doubted it was some sort of shield. The arrows would be coming soon. He risked a glance behind him and the doors were afloat with men pressing against them, their faces straining. He looked at Ara, her auburn hair matted with sweat on her forehead. She was in deep concentration as she lifted both doors at once. Perhaps it wasn’t going to be too much longer.

The arrows came down. It was Tove’s warning that saved his neck and gave him time to raise his shield above his head. Arrows thudded in, grazing Pollux’s arm as they passed through the wood. Two went tearing into the side of his thigh. Blood dribbled down his leg as he shifted his weight to the other foot.

The Kyzantines charged again. They surged forward as the rhythm of the beating drums grew faster and faster. Between the drum strokes was the sound of hammers beating against metal. The hinges were being fixed.

Pollux kept his ground and fought back. His muscles were aching and his armour was getting heavy. He was worried about bleeding out, he couldn’t stay on his feet with this much blood loss. ‘Get inside,’ a voice screamed.

Pollux looked over his shoulder. Ara was standing there with the doors closing before her.

‘Move boys, we need to get back inside before they lock us out here with the dogs,’ Pollux ordered, eyeing off the hungry animals before him.

Each started to step back. Tove hobbled every time his left foot hit the ground. They needed to move faster without breaking the line and letting them through. Pollux pushed to the right to cover Tove as he struggled.

Pollux struck the man in front of Tove and ordered him to run. He turned and did the best he could, hobbling along. If it wasn’t so serious it would have been hilarious. His entire left side dipped as he went for the open gate. Pollux took another blow on his shield. A spear hurtled overhead. It took Tove through the chest and he went sprawling to the ground.

‘Faster boys,’ cried Ara, concern seeping into her voice as Tove was impaled.

Both Pollux and Octans swung out and cut through the men in front, then slammed into the dead bodies with their shields and pushed them back into the horde and the electrical storm. They turned and raced through the gate, stooping to pick up Tove’s fallen body. Pollux thought he saw his chest move up and down and there was no way he was leaving him out there with the enemy.

Ice Shards blasted overhead into those chasing them down. It bought them some time. Pollux and Octans grabbed Tove under each shoulder and heaved his body between them. They pushed harder, their feet digging into the ground as they hurried. Octans went through first, turning sideways to fit through the closing doors. Hands reached out and took Tove from them as Pollux squeezed through, a blade biting deep into his tricep. The doors slammed together wedging the blade in place. Pollux grabbed at his wound, the blood pouring freely, and hoped he could keep some on the inside.

He looked around for Tove. His body was lowered gently to the ground and his breathing was rasping and harsh. Someone had snapped the spear but it remained lodged in his abdomen.

Pollux dropped to his knees beside him and reached out for his free hand. He gripped it as tightly as he dared and could feel Tove’s fingers squeeze back in return. Octans stood at his shoulder, his eyes downcast looking at the fallen boy.

‘You did an exceptional job Tove. Today you were a hero. No one can take that from you.’

He looked into Tove’s eyes as the fire in them died. He slipped from consciousness and his grip on his hand went limp.

‘Take his body back to the barracks with the baron’s,’ he ordered one of the soldiers looking on.

He slowly got to his feet, finally releasing his grip on Tove’s hand as a messenger came rushing through the mass of bodies circling the fallen hero.

‘Pollux, Byrn has sent me to you, he said you were now in charge, general of the Buckthorne forces until he is fit enough to return to the fighting.’

Pollux stared the messenger down as the stunned crowd around him went silent. Obviously this was the old man’s way to make sure everyone here knew about the appointment.

‘He is alright isn’t he?’ Pollux asked.

‘A few more scratches than he would care to admit.’

Pollux let his chest relax.

‘But there is a more concerning issue. The right wall has been breached and needs to be retaken. With each moment the Kyzantines are gaining more ground.’