The Lord of Death (The Age of Dawn Book 2) (14 page)

We are one. Paint the walls with their blood,
Blackout said in his head.

“Yes,” Juzo said, baring his teeth in an animalistic grimace.

The two men looked at each other for an instant. A hulk of a man pushed through the two who spanned across the hall, and swung his thick whip at Juzo. Juzo swung at the whip before it collided with his body, slicing it in half. The hulk’s eyes widened behind his mask. Juzo vaulted into the air at an angle, grunting as he swung Blackout from overhead. His sword chopped into the man’s head and split his torso from shoulder to hip. Juzo had to use a tremendous amount of strength to prevent Blackout from smashing into the wall.
Incredibly sharp, use less force.
The hulk’s body fell over with a thud. Blood and bits of flesh covered the other two men whose postures now seemed a little less confident. Juzo readjusted his grip on Blackout, trying to squeeze the blood out from between his fingers and the sword hilt.

One of the men charged, slashing at Juzo with a cat o’nine tails. Juzo blocked it with his arm, allowing its tendrils to rake into his skin. He slammed Blackout into the man’s chest and he fell with a gurgle of blood. Something hard slammed into Juzo’s jaw, sending him sprawling and dropping Blackout.

He opened his eyes from the ground to see a man with bars of iron wrapped around his fists, about to pound him in the face again. Juzo rolled and the man grunted as his punch cracked the floor beside Juzo’s head, spraying dust into Juzo’s eye. The man punched again and Juzo dodged by luck alone, this time he seized the man’s arm with both hands before he could recoil. Juzo raised his hips threw his leg around the man’s neck, catching it between the crook of his knee, smashing the man’s head into the ground. Juzo stomped on the man’s head with his heel until he heard his skull crack. He blinked and rubbed his eye as it angrily watered.

One man remained in Terar’s throne room and the dagger he held before him quivered in his hands. The man dropped the sad weapon and turned to run and Juzo followed.

“You!” Juzo screamed. Juzo recognized the man’s form. This was the one who gave him new teeth. Juzo easily caught up to the man and slipped his arms under the man’s neck in a choke hold.
Revenge? Am I like him?
Juzo’s tongue slipped between his shattered tooth.

“No,” Juzo whispered in the man’s ear. The man’s hands clawed at Juzo’s bleeding arms, slipping off with each attempt. “Ssh. Go to sleep now,” Juzo said as he gripped the man’s neck like a vice. The man’s hands continued raking at Juzo’s arms and his feet missed as they tried to stomp on Juzo’s toes for a long minute. Juzo relaxed his choke and the man fell lifelessly to the ground.

Juzo staggered to the wall, eyes wet with tears, mouth red with Malek’s blood, arms and legs bleeding. He put his back to the wall and slowly slid down to the floor, resting his head on his knees. The moans and cries of people in their cells fell into the background; a terrible sound he had become quite accustomed too. He turned his head to watch as Terar crawled around the adjacent throne room with the last few minutes of his life.

It’s over, I’m free. I can be a man again. No. You are no man, not anymore.
You are one of them. Death Spawn. The shit of the world.

“
T
his is all ours now
? That’s amazing,” Nyset said, sitting on the edge of her plush feather bed. “I could get used to this,” she said, sinking a hand into the sheets.

“Yup, this is our home now,” Walter said, pulling up the sheet on his bed and smoothing it with his hands. He looked at Nyset, eyes twinkling.
She’s happy here, that’s good.

Grimbald grunted at the top of each sit-up, walnut floor creaking in the neighboring center room with the rapid movement. “This is nice, solid place.”

“It’s a little cold, needs a feminine touch,” Nyset said. “Maybe some plants, and some artwork would help.”

“You can decorate all you want after we find Juzo. Let’s not forget about him,” Walter said, with a frown.
If he’s even still alive. Damn it, I know he is.

“What should we call it?” Walter asked. I don’t want to be reminded of Malek any more than we have to be.”

“Hm. How about the Breden Stronghold?” Nyset suggested.

“How about the Lair? Keep it simple,” Walter said.

Nyset tapped a finger on her lips. “Sounds dingy, but I can live with it.”

Grimbald cast a wide-eyed grin at Walter. “I can stay here too? In the Lair?”

“Don’t smile at me, I hate when you do that,” Walter said.

“I would never,” Grimbald said with a chuckle.

“Of course, plenty of room here for all of us. Grim— you can stop saying things like that now. We’re all friends here, trying to survive this thing together.” Walter said, pulling on Grimbald’s shoulders to make the sit-ups more difficult.

“Alright then,” Grimbald chuckled, groaning with the difficulty Walter put on him.

“Speaking of Malek—I started going through some of Malek’s things, he took his most valuable artifacts with him, but there is still a lot left in his lab we can use,” Baylan said, stuffing cured rabbit meat and dried berries into his pack. Baylan pulled out a jet black crystal and twiddled it between his fingers. “This for instance, I’m not sure exactly how, but this Equalizer will prevent the target wizard of your focus from being able to touch the Dragon or the Phoenix, making them a Norm,” he said, the beginnings of a smile pulling up the corners of his lips. Baylan pocketed the jet black gem and wiped ash from the curling tips of his shoes.

“What’s a Norm?” Nyset asked, standing and fiddling with one of her belt pouches.

Baylan’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, yes, that. A Norm is what Tower wizards call people who can’t invoke the Powers. I admit, it is a bit demeaning, but being around wizards who frequently use the word tends to infect you,” he said.

A grave expression crept over Walter’s face and he stood with an unnatural stillness. “The Metamorphose — that’s what it used on me…” Walter said. “I tried to touch the Phoenix— and the Dragon both were there, but stuck behind a wall of some sort.”

Baylan sighed. “The Tower will want to hear about this. They’re only supposed to be a few of these in existence,” Baylan said, wiping his hands on his billowy pants. “And the Tower thinks they have the rest.”

“Why so worried? Maybe there was one unaccounted for?” Nyset said.

“If there are more of these out there and someone is making them…” He rested his head on his hands and rubbed his temples.
This is new. I’ve never seen him so worried before,
Walter thought.

“It’s simple, if the magic users can no longer use magics then they are not so tough anymore now are they?” Grimbald said. He switched from sit-ups to one-arm pushups, making them look as easy as making morning elixir. A thin trail of sweat started forming down the center of his back through his tunic.

“Precisely, Grim. The Tower and the monarchy get along well enough, but everyone knows who’s really in charge. If the Tower loses its edge— The Tower has fought against the tides of darkness for millennias, not to mention the invasions from the other realms. They depend on their close communion with the god powers to maintain dominance.”

“So the magic wizards would have to rely on their bodies to fight, which I don’t think would be very good for them, if there are more Equalizers,” Grimbald said, deep voice resonating from the adjacent room that joined all the others on this floor.

“Right. Let’s hope there aren’t many more,” Walter said, tightening the satchel around his chest. Grimbald jumped to his feet and threw his axe and pack over his shoulders, securing the straps for both.

“I asked the holster to bring our mounts by today, they should be here now,” Nyset said, closing a red button on her collared shirt.

“I love your organization,” Baylan said, following Walter down the stairs exiting the tower.

They stepped from the Lair’s entrance into the brilliant morning sun and Walter exhaled, “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day to travel.” Walter walked beside Marie and started rubbing the horse’s neck. “It’s good to see you, girl. Looks like you’ve been well cared for.”

Nyset strapped her satchel to Ashes’ saddle and Grimbald inspected his Blood Donkey. Wiggles circled around Baylan’s mare, sniffing at its hooves.

“Great, everyone ready? It’s too bad that after settling in we need to leave, seems to be the way of things,” Walter said.

“The world is like an unread book, Walter. If you don’t travel, you’ve only read a few pages of it,” Baylan said.

A
bout two hours
beyond the Wall, the group passed the vagrant’s settlements to the North. A few of the men huddled by a small fire, holding what might’ve been jeweled rings.
That’s not something you see every day, the world is changing,
Walter thought. The Army was about an hour ahead of them, leaving hundreds of boot prints in the dirt road. Walter bowed his head, stretching his neck. His eyes squinted at the site of recently spilled blood on the road.
Someone must’ve had a bad day,
he thought, again glancing at the vagrants who watched their group with suspicion.

“Come on, let’s get around the army, looks like there’s a path over here that might swing around,” Walter said, changing Marie’s course towards the footpath.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Nyset asked.

“I think this will be okay,” he said, pulling out a map drawn with graphite. The map wasn’t particularly detailed, but it did have a nice overview of the Zoria realm, each main location marked with beautiful calligraphy. Tall Cypress trees encased the path, preventing them from seeing their progress of overtaking the Army. The Army could be heard however, and they were getting very close. The scent of smoke tickled Walter’s nose and he stopped Marie, who snorted.

“What is it?” Baylan asked, stopping his mare behind him. The group traveled in single file as the path had become very narrow. Walter looked over his shoulder and held a finger to his lips indicating that they remain silent.

“Something smells, not sure what it is exactly,” he said quietly and inhaled deeply through his nose.

“Yeah, I smell it too. It smells like dead men,” Baylan whispered.

Walter deftly dismounted from Marie and the horse started munching on wildflowers. Walter held his palm open behind him as he crept along the path in a crouch. Baylan turned towards Nyset and Grimbald in hushed whispers.

Walter peeked his head over a thick orange leafed bush and saw the source of the scent. At least ten Cerumal sat huddled over the embers of a dying cook fire, slurping meat from bones.

Shit!
Walter thought, ducking behind the bush. He crept back to the others and whispered “Cerumal, I think they’re scouts. We should be able to make quick work of them with the element of surprise at our backs,” Walter said quietly. They tied up their horses and Walter muzzled Wiggles with a strip of cloth. The group sat in a small huddle.

“Ten of them, I think, maybe more. Think we can do them?” Walter asked.

“Ten is nothing, we can slaughter them alright,” Grimbald said, rubbing his hands together.

Nyset rubbed her chin, deep in thought. Baylan glanced at her, then at Walter. “It’s your call Walt,” Baylan said, nodding.

“Could we get around them without fighting?” Nyset asked.

“We could, but they’re probably getting ready to leave to report the Falcon’s location to their force, plus they’ll be killing more men eventually. It’s a good chance for us to help.”

Her lips formed a line. “Alright,” she said.

Walter nodded, “Alright then, get ready.”

Leather rasped on steel as Grimbald drew his axe and Baylan his silvery dagger. Grimbald spat and adoringly rubbed the head of his axe with an oiled rag. Nyset let two balls of flames float in her hands and then extinguished them. Walter tugged on the straps of his bracer, Stormcaller. They stowed their satchels and packs between two shrubs.

“You all ready?” Walter asked.

“I’m about ready to shit myself,” Grimbald said. “But otherwise, good.”

“Terror and bravery go hand in hand, my trainer Noah used to say,” Walter said. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.

Grimbald gave him a half smile that quickly became a grave line. Grimbald looked more terrified than Walter had ever seen him.
This is his first time fighting Cerumal, he’s only heard about them from us. There’s a first time for everything I suppose.

“I’ll take the main path. Nyset, you circle around behind them and take as many as you can with the Dragon. Grim, once Nyset and I start raining fire, charge their eastern flank and start chopping them down. Baylan, you’ll be on the other flank, attack when Grimbald goes in and try to shield him if it gets too hot for him. Wait for my signal, then go in.”

“Okay, Walt,” Baylan said. Grimbald nodded and Nyset squeezed Walter’s shoulder with forced smile.

“Remember your places, and wait for the signal, alright? If we attack at once, it will work better,” Walter said, pushing his dark hair behind his ears.

“Sure thing,” Grimbald said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay, then. Does everyone understand what they’re to do?” Walter looked at each of them, one by one. “Alright remember, wait for the fucking signal,” Walter said, rising and looking in the direction of the Cerumal.

Grimbald crouched behind a bush that snapped at him with triangular mouths the size of eggs. He wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants and re-gripped his axe, Corpsemaker.
Let’s hope you live up to your name today,
he thought, stealing another glimpse at the Cerumal. Grimbald realized he had no idea what the signal was.
Did Walter say what it was? No.

The Cerumal sat around the fire, unaware and snorting in their strange tongue. Naturally, now he had the pressing urge to piss.
What was that damn signal?

“Dammit,” he whispered, and then Walter came barreling towards the twelve creatures, roaring with flaming streamers whipping around his head, fireballs flying ahead of him.

“Fucking Cerumal bastards!” Walter screamed. Two of his fireballs struck true, blowing the head off of one and punching through the gut of another, splashing blood across the campsite. These Cerumal looked mighty surprised as far as Grimbald could tell. They froze as the first two fell, slowly standing and grabbing their weapons.

I guess that’s the signal!
Grimbald thought. He charged with a roar, massive axe glinting in the sun. Three flaming discs whizzed through the air, shearing limbs from bodies.

He screamed, “Time for a haircut!” He swung Corpsemaker from overhead, splitting a Cerumal’s defensively held spear and body down the middle, axe thudding into the ground. Grimbald wiped away the blood that had splashed into his closed eyes.

A Cerumal dashed towards him with long blades jutting from its hands, his face a sallow horror. Grimbald kicked it in the gut, launching it into the cook fire, screaming in the embers. He pulled Corpsemaker free from the ground as a Cerumal to his right readied a spear to throw.

Baylan appeared behind the Cerumal and slammed his dagger into its eye. The creature dropped the spear with a squeal and fell over backwards. Baylan gripped his Breden long sword in his other hand and slammed it through its chest.

Walter worked Stormcaller in precise strikes, severing the legs from two others beside Grimbald.
Impressive,
Grimbald thought as Corpsemaker chopped through the torso of the one screaming in the fire. Three sprinted towards Nyset, each with swords and shields.

Nyset raised both hands into the air and a wall of fire erupted from the earth. They jumped through it, growling and grunting.

“No!” Walter yelled, as a Cerumal tackled him and they fell into a backwards roll, Walter threw the Cerumal from his back as the roll ended and the beast collided with a tree.

Grimbald bashed another in the face with the flat side of his axe and it fell face-first onto a jagged rock with a scream. Grimbald turned, hacking at the one Walter threw with wide and powerful swings that tore through flesh and bone.

Grimbald looked up as Nyset’s hands raised, and a powerful gust swept across the camp, throwing embers into the air. The Cerumal were thrown back into the wall of flames, screeching in pain. Nyset’s hands continued to dance and two boulders sprouted from the ground on either side of the wall of fire, trapping the Cerumal tightly between it.

The battle was going well and ending quickly. Chop, stab, spray fire, grunt and scream. There was blood and severed limbs everywhere. The four of them surrounded the last two, grunting and barking. Grimbald darted in, chopping at the legs from one of them. Baylan finished that one with a stab in the neck.

The last one made a dash for the trees with screech. A translucent shield sprung to life in front of the creature and it smashed into it, falling to the ground and scrambling to its feet. Walter whipped his arm from the side, removing its legs with Stormcaller’s blazing whips. It groaned as it crawled towards the woods and eventually stopped, lying motionless.