245 Flee

The full plate armor felt different. Cald expected it to be heavier and bulky. But it wasn't. He could move freely. Full plate gave the same comfort as mail but offered more protection.

He was a Centurion now, Cald thought. Centurion Cald still didn't feel right to the ears. He was but another grunt a few days ago, a Castonian one but a grunt nonetheless. He though he would die a grunt, not even tasting a higher position. But Lady Ash promoted him. The Castonians General Brent left were a leaderless bunch. He liked to think that his skills brought him this position, this honor. But it was probably his age.

Cald marched in the middle of the night. A hundred Castonians followed behind. Forty-eighth Century of the Goldentooth Legion, too mouthful to say yet he felt pride. This was his own Century. His very own.

The Forty-eighth's job tonight was to guard the main gate while Lady Ash and King Harold escape. It was supposed to be a secret but everybody knew it wasn't. There were spies everywhere, ears to listen, eyes to see and mouths to talk. The rebels should attack tonight. The main gate would soon flood with blood, Castonian blood and rebel blood- all red and horrible.

"Halt!" Cald shouted after reaching the gate, a poor imitation of his own Centurion's voice.

The Forty-eighth Century halted in one crisp movement. Cald felt the pressure though tried to hide it.

"Form up! Defensive Formation"

The Century presented their weapons outward while forming a defensive line around the gate. A dozen went up the walls to assist the Cantonese allies.

The wind blew, cold despite the season. Silence prevailed, a song too eerie. Cald could feel eyes around them, watching their every move.

The plate felt heavy now. He was terrified. He had seen what hatred could do to a man. He had seen the barbarism that will befall their corpses if they die. This city hated them. He knew. And he feared.

And soon enough a mob presented in front. In their hands were weapons of various type. Axes, sticks, knives, old swords, clubs. They were not here for a friendly talk.

"Steady" Cald commanded calmly as the enemies approached.

***

The shawl covered Ash's face. Harold was the same. She knew that mere coverings couldn't hide their identities. But if made her feel a little secured. The thin shawl was all she had to grasp on.

A dozen guards surrounded her and Harold as they descended to the streets. They were all Castonians, she made sure of that. It was a sad thing- having more trust in foreign soldiers than their own. But that was the way things are now. She cannot trust even Harold's royal guards.

The wind was cold tonight. And it was silent. The laughter in the taverns and the scuffles in the street were nowhere. It was an open secret that she and Harold would flee tonight. The dozen guards were all prepared to defend, she knew. But what could a dozen men do when faced against a mob?

They turned to an alley, dark but guarded by a squad of Castonians. Their steps were fast, scraping against the cobbles. She eyed Harold.

He is afraid, she thought. Good. He at least know the danger. He might die tonight. Or she. Or both of them. Omniscient's song, this is terrifying.

The Castonians beckoned, leading them to the main gate. A dozen more joined their group after turning three alleys. A few of the newcomers were bloody. Some had wounds.

"A mob overwhelmed Forty-ninth Century by the east gate" One of the Castonians reported, his face in grimace.

"All dead?" Ash asked, trembling before the news.

"Some. Of course not all. Castonians will not fall that easily. The rest are regrouping as we speak. Don't worry Lady Ash, we will defend your escape"

Forty-eighth Century defends the gate, Ash remembered. They were to stay and hold the gate open until she and Harold could escape. She made that survivor from Fort Fedri the Centurion of the Forty-eighth Century without thinking. The man was named Cald and he seemed reliable. But Ash now grew seeds of doubt regarding Cald's abilities.

More Castonians joined them in their trot towards the gate. She again looked at Harold. He wasn't the best of monarchs. But Harold was kind and he's all Canton have. He, at least, must live.

***

Cald plucked his halberd from the stomach of his opponent. The tip hued red. Bits of flesh and guts tangled.

He swung again, the blade part of the halberd sliced a rebel's face. The man growled in pain. Mercy was his cry. Cald couldn't afford to show mercy. He dealt the killing blow through a stab to the neck. Blood gushed when he retracted his weapon.

A few of his men had fallen. A mob of probably a thousand surrounded them. The line was holding despite the punishment from the enemies.

"Steady!" Cald shouted, his mouth spewing a mixture of blood, saliva and sweat.

Above the gate, the Castonians were fighting a battle of their own. Corpses fell from above like reminders of death.

"Steady" Cald again shouted, wheezing this time.

A group of rebels dashed into a portion of the line, making a breach. Cald's training kicked in. He rallied a handful of his reserves to plug the breach. An enemy's sword met his breastplate, vibrating the metal. Sword against armor is spoon against rock.

Useless, Cald thought as he jammed a dagger to the enemy's throat. Another life, another death. The man clutched his throat and tried to breath. He fell to his knees and breathed his last.

Cald slammed his elbow against another. He followed with the butt of this halberd. He missed and tumbled forward. In just a moment, three men leapt unto him. Their tried to find a gap in his armor, slamming their knives in random.

"His visor! A blade to his visor" Cald heard one said.

He paled as one of them aimed a blade towards a gap in his visor. At best he would lose an eye. At worst he would die.

He wiggled but he can't. Their restraint was strong.He couldn't move.

The three men soon fell limp from someone's sword. A strong hand yanked Cald up.

"They almost had you Centurion" Gerty said, smiling.

Thank the Omniscient for Gerty, Cald screamed in silence.

He panted the last of his fear. He almost died. That, like what Gerty said, was a close one. But he must ensure the survival of his Century. No time for pain. No time for worry.

"Steady, they will be here soon. Steady. Defend the line"

Their line grow smaller now. The enemies pushed them with vigor. They would hold the line until the end though Cald knew that the end is not too far. They were exhausted and battered.

"We are being pushed back" Gerty said, eyeing the battle.

"Yes"

Gerty then pointed to the east. "They're here!"

It was really them. King Harold and Lady Ash were surrounded by a few Centuries of Castonians and at least a hundred Cantonese. It would soon be over.

***

The Forty-eighth Century were fiercely defending when Ash and the rest arrived. The battle did not stop and only intensified when she and Harold went pass the gate. Along the way, Ash provided a nod towards the bloody and wounded Centurion of the Forty-eighth, her thanks to their sacrifice and courage.

A jarring peace greeted them outside. They should have prepared horses but all the horse in the stables were poisoned by the locals. And so the long walk back to Heraldshome began.

The Castonians poured out of the gate and made a retreating defense for several leagues until the enemies grew tired of chasing them. They inched back, holding the line for as long as possible. In the end they succeeded, somehow but with great losses. Only she and Harold were not bloody. Most of the Castonians and the Cantonese sported injuries, some light while others were life-threatening.

"We are not safe yet" One of the Centurions said. Upon raising his visor, Ash recognized the man as Centurion Cald of the Forty-eighth. She felt relieved that he survived in the end.

Ash looked around. There were less than five hundred of them left, maybe four including the Cantonese. Many have died inside Mythrille. She could only grimace at the though of the indignity their corpses will suffer.

"You think they will attack us again?"

"Until we reach Heraldshome or an ally host rescues us" said Centurion Cald.

"Can we hold?" Ash asked, but it was more of a plea.

Centurion Cald frowned and then sighed. "I don't know"

The answer made gave her angst. But it was the truth. She looked at the direction of Heraldshome. It would be a few days walk.

"May the Omniscient save us all" She mumbled.