Forever Knight (The Champion Chronicles Book 3) (38 page)

General Mace did not move and looked from one emperor to another.

Tarcious lifted a hand and a yellow ball of fire appeared in his palm.  “I do not understand why the commands of an emperor cannot be responded to the first time!  Now, bind him!”

General Mace motioned to Farrus.  “Tie him back up.”

“And his mouth, too,” Tarcious added.

Sergeant Farrus, still unsure what exactly had just happened, quickly obeyed and retied Hargon’s hands and put the gag back in his mouth.

“Your loyalty will be rewarded,” Tarcious said with a smile.

“I am loyal to the Emperor of Taran,” Farrus said, dropping to a knee.  “The true emperor, Emperor Tarcious.  I am at your service.”

Tarcious looked from the centurion who was kneeling before him to General Mace, who had a very perplexed look on his face.  To them both, he said, “My brother Hargon is dead, assassinated by a faction of disloyal subjects who will be rooted out in time.  This man here is a slave who shall not leave my side.  He will remain bound and gagged until I need his services again.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” Farrus and General Mace said in unison.

Tarcious took in another deep breath and out a long exhale.  He was not sure if he had been truly dying.  Likely not.  If the spell had been too overwhelming for him, he surely would have died instantly in the most painful of ways.  The slow death he felt was simply the fact that he had used up everything that he had and it was going to take some time for his body to recover.  But now that he had found a way to quickly rejuvenate his power, there might be no end to the spells that he could cast.  With his brother at his side, he would surely be able to conquer the world.

He wanted to laugh out loud, but he only smiled.  He turned to Farrus and asked, “You brought this man to me?  What is your name?”

“Farrus, Your Imperial Majesty.  Sergeant Farrus.”

“You will be sergeant no more.  You will now be Commander Farrus.”  He took the time to give Farrus a long look.  “Do I know you?  Your face seems familiar.”

“My father, Terrius, served your father as the head of the palace centurions.  For a time, I was a playmate of your brother’s.”

Tarcious scratched his chin.  “Interesting.  I do not recognize your name, but your face does seem familiar.”

“We were young, then.  And you were a small child.”

General Mace cleared his throat, interrupting the reunion of childhood playmates.  “An army of soldiers and civilians marches from the city.  Our centurions are ready to meet them upon the battle field.”

Tarcious raised an eyebrow.  “They did not learn from their first defeat?”

“They are only delaying the inevitable,” General Mace said.  “I have pulled several companies off the field to start the construction of more siege engines.  We will have three more catapults ready in no more than two days.”

“That will not be necessary.”  Tarcious closed his eyes, feeling the presence of the creatures still in his mind.  He wasn’t sure how to communicate with them, so he simply thought of the city walls and imagined them crushing them with their hands.  “Prepare all the centurions to march as soon as the walls are breached.”

General Mace wondered what craziness had come over the emperor.  With a cautious tone, he said, “Your Imperial Majesty, the walls are still standing.”

“Not for long,” Tarcious said, smiling.

***

Farrus opened the flap to his new tent.  It was no larger than any of the of the others, but instead of sleeping four to six centurions, he had the entire tent to himself.  He had no possessions, but his new rank of Commander allowed him to procure two wool blankets that should keep him warm through the night.

The tent was too short for him to stand up straight, making him hunch over as he stepped in.  The ground was still hard and cold, which was much better than being muddy and cold.  Although springtime brought with it warmth, it also brought rain and mud.  He wasn’t sure which he hated more: the cold or mud.  He tossed his blankets onto the ground and spread them out.  One he would sleep on and the other would cover him.

He would miss the warmth of his garrison bunk, but when this war was over, his new rank of Commander would give him many privileges that a sergeant would never be able to experience.  Instead of being the second-in-command, he would finally be able to be the commander of a garrison.  Hopefully he could take over the Iseron garrison and put that Mayor Paulson in his place.

In the meantime, General Mace had given him command of the centurion guards who were posted around the command tent.  It would be his responsibility to ensure the safety of both the general and the emperor, which was a much better prospect than commanding a company of infantry.  Although he did not fear combat, he knew that death and injury came too easy in a pitched battle.  The seemingly randomness of death when immersed in the chaos of a melee was something that he would like to avoid.  Even the best centurion could be felled by a lucky strike from behind.  Not to mention, he had served his time in war.  It was time for the young centurions to fight the battle, while he protected its leaders.

He dropped onto the blanket, thankful that he could take a moment to sit.  Soon, the fighting would begin again, and he would need to be back at the command tent making sure that the general and emperor would be safe.  Although he was not happy that Hargon was given mercy and allowed to live, at least he wasn’t let go.  Serving at his brother’s side should be more than enough of a punishment.  There were still two others out there that needed to be caught and executed.  In time, he would interrogate Hargon and find out their names and eventually he would have his justice.  But it was entirely possible that he would never get that justice if the two joined up with the Karmon army.

Farrus smiled at that thought.  Even if they escaped him, they would not escape the might of the Taran army.  He would watch for any prisoner that matched the description of Hargon’s accomplices.  If they were found, it would be a quick execution.  He did not care anymore about retribution.  He just wanted them dead.  More than likely, though, they would meet their demise upon the field of battle.

Thoughts of vengeance and revenge quickly left as he reached into his shirt and pulled out the small box that Hargon had left on the forest floor.  He could not be sure if the wooden box had been accidentally or intentionally dropped.  If Hargon had wanted to leave it in the forest, then whatever was in the box was something that he did not want his brother to see.  That meant it was surely valuable.

Holding his breath, he looked over it carefully.  The wood was smooth to his touch and virtually unblemished.  At first he thought that it might have been recently made because it looked so new.  But the corners were unevenly worn as if it had been handled for many years.  The top of the box was hinged and a small brass clasp kept it tightly closed.  He knew there was something in it as it jiggled around as he gently shook it.

With his heart pounding with excitement, he released the clasp and slowly opened the lid.  He let out an audible gasp as he saw the gem inside the box.  It was slightly smaller than the box itself, which meant that the gem was likely priceless.  Hargon had likely escaped from his bother with the gem hoping that he could use it start a new life.  With that gem, he could certainly start, and keep, a pretty comfortable life.

With one hand holding the box, he picked up the gem with the other.  Expecting it to be cool to the touch, he almost dropped it when he felt its warmth.  He turned it over, studying the symmetry of the gem.  He could not imagine how such a gem had been so perfectly cut into an exact oval.  As his excitement grew, he wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing it and feeling its warmth.  A sudden electric feeling of euphoria swept over him, as if he could defeat the entire Karmon army on his own.  The tiredness that had been in his bones for days was gone.  He no longer felt hungry or thirsty.

He squeezed the gem even tighter, his mind focusing solely on the gem.  And then it happened again.  It was as if a tunnel had opened up in his brain, exposing thoughts and feelings that he could not understand.  But instead of being afraid, he let it envelop him.

The last time it had happened was when he was a young boy and it had frightened him so much that he tried to never think of it again.  He remembered the fear that he had felt then, but now that it happened again, he was not so much afraid, but intrigued.  Strange visions came back to him, the ones that had scared him when he was a boy.  But in the many years since then, so much had happened to him that little could scare him.

The visions were much more clear now than what he remembered as a boy.  Back then, he had not tried to focus on the visions because of his fear.  And as soon as they had entered his mind, he had done all that he could to do keep them from coming back.  He squeezed the gem even tighter and the visions become even more clear.

He saw great creatures running across an open field, crashing through trees, and then into a large stone wall.  At first he thought he was seeing the battle of South Karmon, but the walls did not surround a city, but were the walls of an enormous castle.  The creatures ran into the wall, shoulder first, busting holes in the stone.  There were two, then four, and then a whole army of these creatures suddenly at the castle wall.  With incredible force, they smashed their way through the wall and then began ripping it apart with their hands.  As the bottom of the wall fell apart, the castle walls collapsed right onto of the creatures.  But that did not stop them as they pushed their way out from under the rubble and continued into the inside of the castle.

That vision faded as the castle walls completely disintegrated into dust and smoke.  In its place was another open field with rolling hills and small groves of green trees.  The ground began to split open and men began to pull their way out of the ground.  But although they looked like men, he realized that there were not.  They had two arms, two legs, and a head, but their arms were longer than he expected and they ran with a hunched back.  They wore no clothes, but dirt and grime covered every part of their body.  Once out from under the ground they ran together in a pack, all in the same direction.  They were running from a city in the distance.  He could not see the city, but he knew it was there.  They were hungry from blood.  For human blood.  And he knew they could smell it, because he could smell it, too.

A large shadow from above covered the ground.  It appeared to be from a massive bird with long wings and a skinny body.  But it had a long tail, too, which moved back and forth in rhythm to the beat of its wings.  It too, was heading for the city that he could not see.  But there was not just the one shadow, there were more.  Soon, the entire field was covered in shadows.

Behind them all came a darkness.  It was not a shadow, but the darkness of the night.  Even though the sun was out, the darkness came.  And it came so quickly, he could not react to it.  He was there, right in the middle of the fields, the small human-like creatures were running past him.  Shadows were passing over him.  And the darkness was coming and he could not move.  He squeezed the gem tighter and tighter, hoping somehow it would keep the darkness away, but it came and overwhelmed him.

And it spoke to him.  It thanked him and promised him an eternity of greatness.  There were conditions, of course.  And he accepted them without thought or care.

Chapter Twenty-Three

There were two of them and they only knew one thing: get to the place from whence they were called.  They had no memory of the past, no thoughts of the future.  They only knew the now.  Upon awaking from their slumber, they tossed the rocks that had grown around them far up into the mountains.  The thunderous sound echoing throughout the kingdom.

They looked at one another, recognizing that they were not enemies, but were the same.  There were no thought processes that went through their tiny brains, only instinctual actions.  Without knowing why, or even caring, they knew where to go, following the trail of the call that had awakened them.

Nothing stood in their way.  No tree could withstand their fierce forearms, no hill was unsurmountable, no crevice too far.  Freed after many centuries of slumber, they ran with an abandon, crossing great distances with ease.

When they crashed out of the last of the trees, tossing the small ones hundreds of feet through the air, they felt the presence of others.  They were the small creatures.  The ones who had enslaved them.  If they had any memory, it was of the enslavement, when the will of the little ones forced them to move stone and rock, stacking large boulders on top of large boulders.  They had no choice in what to do, even when their instincts told them not to.  The little ones had been in control then.  But not now.

The moment they saw all the little ones, standing together in front of them, they let out a loud shriek, their high pitched voices causing shivers to run through the little one’s hearts.  They could feel that fear.  Each and every one of them feared them, and that made them more excited.  They would kill that fear with their own hands and teeth.  A new memory came to them when they had broken free from their slavery and tasted the blood of the little ones.  They tasted good.

But the moment they were about to charge and taste the little ones again, the master called.  And they obeyed, not because they had a choice, but because it was how they were designed.  They were not designed for freewill, wandering the countryside uncontrolled.  They were meant to be controlled and contained.  Without question or the will to disobey, they answered the call of the master and obeyed.

The saw the wall that the master had called for them to destroy.  It was tall.  Almost as tall as they were.  They ran straight for it, taking long, bounding leaps to get there.  They did not notice the little ones in their way.  Even if they did, they had no reason to avoid them.  They felt the squishiness of the little ones beneath their feet, but they did not care one way or another.  If the master had not called, they would have tasted their blood.  But the master called, and they obeyed.  They had no choice.

Their fury was fueled by the screams of the little ones.  If they could be happy, the screams made them so.  As they neared the wall, little sticks started to strike them.  Even if they felt pain, they would not have hurt.  None stuck to their thick hide, they just bounced off.

With balled fists, they struck the wall in unison.  The wall was hard and well-made and their first strikes did little to it.  Small chunks fell off along with clouds of stone dust.  But they were undeterred and knew that they simply needed to continue hammering at the walls.  In time, the walls would crumble.  This they knew.  Building up, and tearing down, was what they knew.  It was all they knew.  And they did it well.

***

Conner stood dumfounded, watching the large humanoid creatures race from the forest to the city walls.  They ran right through the middle of the ranks of centurions, sending them scattering across the battlefield.  Many were frightened and ran to the forest to hide.  Most, however, were able to control their fears and simply get out of the way.  The Karmon army became a mass of panicked men and boys, running back to the city as soon as the creatures appeared.  Some of the more seasoned soldiers drew their bows and moved into firing range.  The soldiers that manned the walls also drew their bows and began launching arrows at them.  But none had any effect upon the thick, leathery hide of the creatures.  They did not even acknowledge that they were being attacked when they reached the walls.  With blank, focused faces, the creatures beat their fists upon the walls, doing significantly more damage than the catapults could have done.

Conner looked at Glaerion, who responded without having to be asked, “Stone ogres.”

“What? You know what they are?”

The elf nodded, looking away from the ogres and towards the forest.  “Yes.”

“Where’d they come from?”  Conner watched in awe as the impossibly large creatures tore away at the wall.

“The mountains,” Glaerion replied.  “As they were born from magic and controlled by magic, they cannot be killed through ordinary means.  An enchantment was cast upon them and they were imprisoned beneath the rocks of the mountain.”

He extended a hand and pointed towards the forest. “The human wizard set him free.  And there he is.  At the edge of the forest in a black robe.”

Conner squinted trying to see the wizard.  He could see fuzzy specks that were obviously people moving about right in front of the forest, but he could not see one man in a black robe.  “Are you sure.”

“My eyes can see much farther than yours.  I can see him as clear as if he were standing next to us.  He is chanting, controlling the stone ogres with his magic.  He is distracted and I can probably approach him now.   The power of his magic grows.  I can feel the drain on the web being even stronger now.  Soon, his power will be too great to counter myself.  I must kill him before he gets too strong!”

“And get past all the centurions with crossbows?” Conner asked.

“They will not be a problem,” Glaerion replied confidently.

“I have seen his magic,” Conner said.  “Fireballs and lightning bolts.  Can you stop those as well with your magic?”

A wry smile came across his face.  “Actually, that is where you come into play.”

“What can I do?”

Glaerion shrugged his shoulders.  “You are Hurai, you know.”

“What does that mean?” Conner asked.

But Glaerion did not answer as Marik interrupted them.  “Those things are the immediate problem.  They will break through the wall within the hour if we cannot defeat them.”

“No weapons of man can defeat them,” Glaerion said.  “They have skin and bones of stone.  Arrows, swords, nothing will penetrate their skin.  But…”

“But, what?” Marik asked.

Glaerion looked at the charred remains of the siege engines that had been left in the middle of the battle field.  “Catapults.  If you can knock them down, you might be able to then use axes to chop their heads off.”

“We have been building some to defend the walls,” Marik said.

“You have the horse,” Conner said.  “Get to the city and set up the catapults.  It could be our only chance.”

“Agreed.  What about you?”

“Do not worry about us.  Defend the city.  Just don’t close the gate before we get there.”

Marik took a long moment to look at Conner, reflecting upon the change in him.  It was still very difficult to not think of him as the thin boy he had found in the forests protecting Elissa.  He was a bit thicker in stature and had some facial hair coming through.  But his demeanor was so much different.  Courageous, but also dangerous.  With a final nod, he mounted his horse and spurred it to the main gate of the city.

“What about us?” Conner asked Glaerion.  “Ark or the city?”

“There is little you can do against a stone ogre,” Glaerion said, still eyeballing Tarcious.  “Your friend will fail and soon the ogres will be in the city.  They will tear the city apart.”

“But you said the catapults could knock them down and then their heads could be chopped off.”

“It will take a miracle to launch a load of rocks from a catapult and hit them.  Even if they are knocked down, it would take many men and many axes to chop through their skin.”

“But there’s a chance?” Conner pleaded.

“A small chance,” Glaerion said.  “We must return to the river and get the Ark from Hargon.  We have a quest to complete.”

“I cannot just leave the city.”

Glaerion, once again, shook his head at Conner.  “I will never understand your attachment with one another.  Your duty must outweigh anything else.  Right now, your duty is to protect the Ark.  I committed myself to killing the human wizard and the world will be a better place without him.  But the Ark is more important.  It must be protected.  I will let the wizard live, for now, so that I can do my duty.  You must do the same.”

Conner watched anxiously as the Karmon army reached the main gate.  “I need to do something.  I need to help them.  If the stone ogres break through the wall…”

“The centurions will come next.  Even if you somehow killed the creatures, there are still thousands of soldiers ready to march into the city.  Will you stand in the hole in the wall and stop an entire army by yourself?”

“I can try.”

“And then you will die and your quest to save the Ark will have failed.”

“You’ve wanted to take the Ark yourself this whole time,” Conner snapped back.  “Here’s your chance.  You go back to your ship and take the Ark back to your homeland.  I’m going to the city and try and help defend it.”

Glaerion grabbed Conner by the arm.  “This is your quest, your duty.  The man you saw in your dreams, Michael.  He charged you to protect the Ark.”

Conner pulled his arm out of Glaerion’s grasp.  “My people need me.  The Ark doesn’t need me.  You take it back to your homeland.  It’s what you wanted anyway.”

Conner took a couple tentative steps away from the elf before turning and running for the main gate.

Glaerion spat on the ground, watching Conner leave.  Once again, Man proved to be unreliable.  He gave the wizard one last glance, promising he’d be back to kill him, then he sprinted for the river.

***

As Conner approached the city gates, which were still open, he slowed to a walk to catch his breath.  He had been running hard, trying to make sure that he made it into the city before they closed, but he had plenty of time.  Most of the army was still streaming through, although a number of bowmen had come outside the walls to shoot at the creatures.  But the arrows simply bounced off their thick skin.  If they felt the arrows hitting them, the stone ogres did not acknowledge it.  They continued smashing the walls while being pelted by the ineffective arrows.

It was chaos inside the city walls.  Many of the former knights who had just come back into the city were on their horses moving through the crowd trying to direct and organize the city’s defenses.  But not many were listening.  Some of those who had seen the bloody return of the knights dropped their weapons and retreated back into the city.  Some stood still, frozen in fear at the sight of the large creatures who were pounding their fists on the wall.  A small few could not contain their fright and ran away, screaming in utter panic.  But many stood their ground, picked up cast-away weapons from ground, and followed the lead of the mounted Karmon Knights.

Conner stayed in the flow of men and boys that were streaming in to the city.  He kept his eyes open for Marik so that he could join him.  But there were so many people in such a small area, he could not see him, much less figure out what to do.   The knights that were trying to put together defenses were clearly getting frustrated as they tried to direct the unorganized mass of people.  He passed by one of the knights who was red-faced, screaming at anyone nearby who would listen.  Conner kept moving past, unable to even understand what the knight was screaming.

Sensing a break in the crowd, Conner moved away from the gates and down a wide street.  There were still many people on this street, but it was not as crowded as the streets just inside the gate.  It went right into the market square where the wounded were being led or carried.  He had not realized that so many had been injured.  There were too many to be treated at one time, so most of them sat on the ground, moaned in pain, and hoped that they would get cared for.  Everyone was bloody, especially the helpers and surgeons who were trying to save lives.  He had never witnessed this part of the aftermath of a battle, and he hoped that he would never have to again.  In his only other conflict, he and Sir Brace Hawkden had left the battlefield to chase down Neffenmark before the cleanup began.  He had heard stories of the wounded, but nothing had prepared him for reality.

Screams came from some of the buildings where the surgeons were at work trying to save lives.  He could hear them begging for death, believing that it was the only way to relieve them of their pain.  A large man carrying a bloody axe pushed past him and headed for one of the buildings.  He watched the man enter the building and instantly more screaming erupted. Sometimes, the only way to save a life was to remove a damaged limb.

He turned away, unable to bear the screaming any more.  His curiosity had taken him here and he regretted coming.  The sight and sounds of the injured and dying was getting to be too much for him.  He wondered if there was a similar place set up for centurions that were now treating some of the men that he had attacked.  Although he had no memory of the faces of the men he fought, he could still hear their screams as his swords sliced them up.