The Last Heroes Before Judgement (4 page)

A crash of wood and metal sent us diving into the tallest grass we could find. The concussion rolled out like thunder across the valley and was strong enough to part the mist. The giant golem had slammed boxes on a flattened clearing and we saw that it was indeed a man.

“By the light of day. That must be the largest man ever born.”

Senjay rolled over and grabbed my wrist with glee in his eyes.

“That’s Sergeant Bloodaxe. The champion of Dante’s Isle himself will be training us.”

Senjay held up his fist in victory but he let out a war cry so low that it was mostly breath.

“Who just said that? Eh? Which one of you ignorant little children just asked to get bent over my knee? Who was it?”

I hid my face in the frozen grass trying not to laugh.

“Uh, Sergeant? I have celebrated your many victories in the arena for years.”

Senjay stood up to take responsibility and the Bloodaxe rushed in on him hollering.

“That’s Major Bloodaxe now boy-o, and that goes for all of us. That means I can tell the Captain of any Guard to bite his tongue, and I’m free to slay any man I choose. So when you address me, you will recognize me as a ‘sir’ or I will feed your corpse to the crow.”

“Uh, yes sir. Congratulations on your promotion, sir.”

Senjay extended his hand for a shake. The Bloodaxe repositioned it above his eye for a salute, and then did the same. When he turned his eyes on me, I hid my face back in the frozen grass. He leaned down close enough to let me feel his breath on my neck.

“The next time you laugh at me boy-o, I’ll finish cracking that skull of yours.”

“Yes sir.”

My mind swam with the tales Senjay told of all the heroes. When the giant turned to speak with Grandfather, the origin of the Bloodaxe swam to the surface of my mind and burst into reality before my eyes. The Swillian Incursion of 384 had turned him so mad that he was sentenced to a life imprisoned in Dante’s Isle. In the heat of battle, he relieved his Captain of his command by killing the man, and taking the power of his golden hilt. The crescent shapes had even been elongated to pointed tips. On the back of his head rested the double-racked horns of a demon. With so much power, it was easy to see how he had fought his way to the top of the pile and earned his freedom from the prison so infamous that it was used by every king in the world.

“What are you lot waiting for? Get up on the dais. Line it up and lock it up. Now!”

I leapt up and chased them uphill to the raised dais of a massive monument. We lined up due east with Lazarus at the front. Before us lay three mounds of armor draped in open sleeping rolls. My heart raced at the thought of having a new shirt. Centered on the platform was a huge stone sculptor of the balancing scales with measuring cups big enough to fit all of us inside at once.

“Senjay, where are we?”

“These are the Drakkah of East Point. Look at their hands.”

I foolishly looked down at my hands first before smacking myself in the head. The six statues surrounding the dais were the legs of three men- each over a hundred feet tall. They had scaly talons for hands and above us spread their wings. The sunlight was only beginning to turn the sky blue and the statues glowed red from some form of coloration hidden deep within the ornate scales. With Major Bloodaxe approaching us from behind, we became as still as the statues. I heard him telling grandfather to keep the cargo as the Commando program had no funding left- we would be the final wave of recruits. Then he produced a small test for each of us to take. He made it hard to focus on the paper as the light showed his true form. Long red locks hung down to his chest and over each gauntlet was a double-headed axe, connected to a swiveling assembly at the wrist. The powerful stench of Ulfbar Steel and lubricating oils sent my mind spinning back to the mines. He had weaponized the Smithing Swivel which was once Ulfbar’s claim to glory.

“Sun’s almost up, so, let’s make this inspection quick. Boy, read line one and tell me the color of the script.”

“Sir, the word reads ‘red’ but the color is amber. I do not understand sir.”

“Doesn’t matter. Next, line three.”

“Sir, the word is yellow but the script is red.”

“Right then, line five?”

“Sir, the word is green. The script is purple, sir.”

Lazarus yelled his answer loud and his voice squeaked high from trying to keep his tone so low. I was hiding a laugh when the Bloodaxe quickly walked back down the line.

“And how close was this one to the guillotine? What did he do?”

“Sir, I-”

“Lock your jaw shut. Do not speak unless spoken to! Master He-olt, you were saying…”

“Assaulting a priest. Only served three months in the mine. They were not happy to see him go. Apparently, he could have lived the quiet life of a miner. The way the Tonney’s were screaming like children, a very successful one at that.”

My face burned from being embarrassed twice but I said nothing.

“No worries boy-o. I’ve seen enough armies to know most are built on the backs of men that traded in their shackles for swords. All I wanna know is, was it worth it? Would you do it again?”

“A hundred times sir.”

He laughed in my face and slapped my shoulder hard enough to send me to my knees. Then he knelt down and displayed his skill with locks. He produced two bald ceremonial pikes, tiny pieces of stone that had been carved into the elongated pyramid shape of an obelisk. I knew their true purpose to be ending an injured man’s life quickly and mercifully. Gently, he inserted them both into the locked cuff and spread the tips as a pair of scissors without the finger loops. The cuff clicked open and the Bloodaxe smiled to himself.

“Thank you sir. Ugh, my wrist is all raw.”

“Well I say, inspection’s done. Contract pages please. Write your name nice and clear. If you do not know how to read and write- you are disqualified. Trouble maker, are you here of your own free will?”

“Yes, sir.”

Grandfather had signed the top of three blank lines. I wrote my name in the center. There was no time to read the proclamation but I saw the third line was left to any man of sufficient rank to receive a charge. Once Lazarus had signed, Grandfather took the pages and rearranged the boxes behind us. He was looking for something, while testing all the hinges for a chest worth keeping. The sky was getting lighter with each passing second and the thought of finally feeling the sun’s warmth shine down on me again made me smile. The smile itself immediately made me a target as the other Majors walked through our line and began insulting us without warning.

“Turn back Bahgeshi boy, you’re too skinny to survive the wild.”

“What do you laugh at Swillian? I cut down all of your cousins in the war. Do not take me for a joke.”

“Keep your head and eyes straight forward boy-o. Don’t you look at her, or me, or anything else for that matter.”

“You think I will go easy on you Cairan? You light skinned pretty boys from the UNF make me sick. Have you ever so much as seen Cairo?”

Besides the Bloodaxe, there was a Congon man with a bald head, and a Slorrick woman who had cut her golden hairs down to a few inches. They all dressed in a black and grey uniform with blades attached to their arms, as opposed to the norm of using a sheath attached at the hip. They even had black cloaks, resting on broad shoulder plates. The Lantos had even designed the scaly boots and gauntlets to mimic those of the Drakkah.

The three Majors took turns cutting into our egos with dull blades. They warned us to turn back and tried to make us cry, but we had hurled worse insults at one another when playing pretend soldier. The air went eerily silent when they suddenly stopped and walked away. They had a quick chat about which recruit they would take for themselves, then they came and stood before us. Grandfather returned with the contract pages, stopping behind me first. The Congon Major stood in front of me, balling his fists and rotating his shoulders.

“You won’t die on me will you?”

“No sir, I promise.”

“What a shame. Swillians always fight harder when they can feel death approaching.”

He signed his name on the contract page, returned the ink pen, and moved back two paces behind the covered pile of gear. He stood there in the proper stance of a UNF grunt, and I did my best to do the same. The Majors lined up and paused for the signal to begin the ceremony- just before sunrise. The lady Major stood before Senjay, leaving the Bloodaxe to take Lazarus as his charge.

“This is your last chance ladies. If you don’t have the salt for whatever comes next, take a step back, and reveal your true identity as a coward.”

I did not even look over to check on the others. We stood our ground. The Bloodaxe raised his right hand by his head and held the palm open towards us. Trusting us was one thing, but, swearing an oath before the allFather would bind our souls to our word.

“Raise your sword hand. So, you swing with your left? Doesn’t matter one bit. Right then, you lot repeat after me. Sound off loud and proud. Let this oath take root deep in your bones. May you ever hold loyalty, courage, and honor uppermost in your minds.”

“Sir-yes-sir!”

“I, state your name, hereby swear my life to the civic service.

This choice I make of my own free will before the gods to witness.

I proclaim the Unified Nations of Freemen to be my homeland. But, I will defend the freedoms of every kingdom in good grace.

No enemy shall ever sway my loyalty to the realm.

I do not fear death, for I know that honor is earned through sacrifice.”

When we finished shouting, the final word echoed out through the valley. We were filled with a pride that we had not yet earned but we pledged to fulfill our duty- regardless of the task at hand. The pause lasted until the first ray of light peaked over the Apple Mountain.

“Kneel before the King of Kings!”

They moved to stand before us and took our sword hands to hold the contract page. Over the embossed insignia of the UNF, they dangled the tiny obelisks, preparing to finish the ceremony.

“Look me in the eye boy. Matthius, you swear to live and die for these people?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Despite your Swillian heritage?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you will serve your master with honor?”

“What is the master’s name, sir?”

“Major Charles Swiftblade.”

His grin met mine and I nodded, even knowing what he would do next. They called to us in one booming voice, and after we had responded together, we screeched through the pain together.

“Swear it!”

“I Swear!”

To ensure we never forgot our oaths, they pierced the pikes into the contract pages, and all the way out through the back of our hands. They let us squirm and pull and cry until we had regained our composure. Grandfather moved in behind me and affixed the hilting piston to the back of my head. Major Swiftblade held my arm steady while the straps went across my forehead and under my chin. When the piston assembly was centered, Grandfather gave it a soft blow with a wooden hammer. I felt the hilt dig into my skin with two fangs that centered just under the damaged occipital knot that Grandmother had warned me about. Rusted iron springs shot the hammering face back into position with enough force to shake loose the tears I was holding back. The straps were tightened enough to leave marks and the piston was struck two more times- with much more force. By the second blow, the sun had risen and my skull had cracked from the pressure. Upon the third swing of the hammer, the hilt’s fangs had sunk in completely, the sun blinded my eyes completely, and my mind was completely gone.

The hilt had clearly been implanted incorrectly. I could hear the falcons scaring prey from the tall grass. The mega beavers flapped their massive tails, showing glory to the allFather by building new homes. I could even hear the fish, bubbling and splashing in the streams hidden under the mist. However, I could no longer speak. Every time I opened my mouth, the only sound that came out was the barking of a dog. Someone shouted right in my ear and spit on my face like a wild man. I was on my knees, rubbing my eyes to wake them when he pushed me over.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped up ready to swing on a man, but found my attacker to be a grey old hunting dog. He understood that I was awake and immediately knocked the pile of gear over by digging at the open sleeping roll. My attention was locked on my right hand. Where there had been a hole straight through- just moments before- was completely healed. When I wiped the blood from my hand, I saw that not so much as a scar remained. I jumped and shouted my thanks to the gods.

“I’m alive? I have a hilt? The glorious allFather has blessed me yet again!”

The hilt had burned through the hair and the stitches and pushed my skin out on all sides. It was warm to the touch, and I turned away from the sun so it could receive maximum exposure to the light. I only had time for one deep breath, but I closed my eyes and took two. The dog barked his goodbye and ran off straight north. I watched him cut a path through the dissipating mist until I could see bouncing hilts and hear shouting. Then I saw the gear that I had been issued.

“What sort of armor is this? The Majors get to be Drakkah and we’re stuck dressing up as turtles? And there is no shirt? Ugh.”

There was no one waiting around to explain anything. I scrambled to put on the armor and latch the straps around the biggest shell. Black Divers can make it clear to the bottom of the ocean, so it made sense use their shells as armor. Even the body shield was the shell of a diver. The back shell was wide enough to stretch far beyond my shoulders and long enough in the middle to tap the back of my calves. The full load was heavy but the hilt gave me strength. I sprinted past the measuring scales and leapt from the dais only to stop- having to readjust everything. The Drakkah were no longer glowing red in the full light of day, though, they were still magnificent.

“Well gentlemen, enjoy your spring. Also, there is no such a thing as a Drakkah.”

The dog had snuck up behind me in the grass with more stealth than I had expected. When I turned to run, he tripped me, and sprinted off ahead. I could have sworn I heard him laugh.

“Oh, I’m gonna get you. You think that’s funny? Just wait ‘til I catch you.”

The dog moved quickly, yet I could not hear his paws crunch on the frozen grass. I kept the statues positioned exactly behind me, but still did not find the path the others had taken. The ice came into view with the green horizon lights dancing in the far north. The glacial wall spread clear across the UNF- from coast to coast- and it pushed the ground up into a small mountain from the pressure. The mountain pushed down south into a tip at East Point. I ran straight at it until I heard a steady rumbling roll down into the valley. I could barely see the tips of a caravan moving along the mountain from right to left, so I ran right in hopes of finding the way up.

“Wait for me guys. I’m coming.”

“Rough!”

“Huh?”

The hunting dog had sped past and was already on the hidden road barking down at me. I still could not see where the road began. No matter, he was showing me a faster way up. The mountainside just below the cliff had erupted from the expansion of freezing ice and a frozen waterfall offered me an easy climb. Somehow, the shells did not weigh me down at all. I was able to jump higher than ever, and even the slippery ice made a solid platform under my crushing hands.

“Look out little doggy. Here I come.”

Thirty feet up and I was still fearless. The last jump to the cliff’s edge was too tall and I only caught it with the fingertips. I managed to throw my whole body up and over. I landed on the hidden road on both feet, ready to scream with excitement. Even the dog was surprised at my newfound agility and he huffed at me when I touched down.

“Ha! I have the power now, ‘boy-o!’”

The dog was not impressed at all. He decided to race me to the caravan. They were miles ahead and showed no signs of slowing. Thankfully, the dog kept me company all morning. He was terrible at conversation, but, at least he did not leave me behind.