Fifty Four: The Firebrand

Boots pounded against the cobblestone and echoed off the surrounding houses and into the night. My heart was hammering. I felt the burn of each breath in my lungs. We were out of time.

We sprinted towards the end of the street and I wondered if we’d make it. Would we die this way with our backs to the enemy as we fled?

Draxus turned his head towards me, and I could see the haunted look in his eye.

“Keep moving!” I shouted over the noise.

Jorgen stumbled and I caught him under the arm. A shadow flitted across the ground before us. That was all the warning I had. I shouted to Draxus, voice an incoherent shout of alarm before the Sand Drake rounded the corner before us.

Draxus skidded to a halt, boots spraying stone dust as he tried to arrest his momentum. High above him, the Sand Drake craned it’s head back. It’s a golden snake-like eye glimmering with triumph.

A black tongue lulled over sharp bloody teeth.

“Scatter!” I shouted to my men. They were scrambling now, struggling to regroup as I whipped past. The Sand Drakes head descended like a striking serpent. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NʘvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

I slammed into Draxus with enough force to send us both sliding across the stone. I was rising to my knees before my body could register the shock.

The Sand Drake made a sound of frustration as the outrider on its back yanked on the Reigns. Draxus rose to his feet, holding out an arm to me as his chest rose and fell.

“You feast bastard,” he said. “Don’t do that shit again.”

“You can bitch later,” I told him. “Now, we run.”

Hade and the others had already turned back the way we had come.

One of my archers shot an arrow at the Outrider, but the Ork merely leaned sideways, as the shaft whipped past his head.

These outriders were different than the ones we had encountered on the wall. Like their master, they were heavily armored, and their mounts were large and fully mature.

Their long-bladed lances were curved with a wicked point at the end that served only one purpose.

To gut a man.

“Move!” I shouted. “Back the way we came!”

Behind us, the outrider barked something and the Sand Drake lurched forward like a cat after prey. We sprinted back the way we came. Hade shouted something and I turned to see one of the soldiers had slid in a patch of blood.

He went down on hands and knees, scrambling. He managed to rise to his feet moments before the jaws closed over him.

The Sand Drake shook its head, armor rattling in its blood teeth. I heard the soldier's bones snap, heard the resulting high-pitched scream of agonized terror.

Then the wet tearing of flesh.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Damn it, where the hell was Blackthorne? Where were the rest of our allies?

Then I saw the thing that would make my heart drop. A giant Sand Drake with scales the color of wine was clambering over the charred wreckage of a building ahead.

Claws splintered wood as it came for us, half crawl half lope. On its back was the unmistakable figure forged in fire and blood.

The Kahn who had united the clans. The Ork who had nearly defeated Lord Blackthorne in battle. Urksol, the Firebrand sat in his saddle, one armored gauntlet draped over the horn.

He tilted his horned head to the side as my men and I skidded to a halt for the second time. I swore, glancing over my shoulder to see the other outrider closing in from behind.

We were trapped between the jaws of two giant beasts, and I was to blame.

20 Minutes Earlier…

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” grumbled Kato as I slid the sewer cover back into place. Within, the refugees are now huddled below with enough torches and supplies to last them the night.

Initially, Draxus had opposed the idea, but as the situation in the city grew more desperate, he reluctantly agreed to the necessity. With the skinwalker that haunted the catacombs gone, the sewer was a much safer place to be than the city's surface.

Ceris had become a war zone.

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I wiped the sweat from my brow, only succeeding in smearing Ork's blood across my face.

I lifted my helmet back on and rose.

“He’ll come,” I said. “Lord Blackthorne himself sent word. He has to come.”

It had been a mantra for the past half an hour, and even now I had my doubts.

When the siege began the Lord Governor and his court had retreated behind the second wall, all while his allies manned the battlements and fought the war for him.

There had been no word, no messengers or aid. The Lord Governor and his personal guard remained aloof from the chaos of the main city.

And now we were hanging our hopes on the goodwill of his Magus. I gripped the hilt of my sword, hand damp with sweat.

There were too many variables, and I didn’t like it.

One of the archers on the roof, a scout I had placed only minutes earlier, whistled softly. I glanced up, as Did Draxus, Kato, and several others.

“Steady,” I said, as Draxus reached for his blade. “Let’s hear him out.”

Out of the smoke came a shadow, and that shadow materialized into the shape of a man.

My own grip on my sword relaxed a bit as I recognized the robes of a true academy-trained Magus.

So he had come after all.

The robed figure came to a stop, smoke swirling around him. He was short, with dark skin and clear blue eyes. Those eyes darted between me and my men, careful and calculating.

“I will speak to the Knight Ser William and no other,” the Magus declared. His voice was deep and heavily accented.

I stepped forward, clapping Draxus on the shoulder as I passed. My men watched wearily, ready for any threat.

“I am he,” I said.

The Magus took me in, eyes snagging on my worn boots before rising back to my face.

“Ah,” he said. “The peasant made Knight. So it is true what they say.”

To my left Hade stiffened, taking an angry step forward.

“And you must be the Water Mage of Mediocre talent,” I said, calmly. “And here I thought you were a coward.”

There was a moment of silence, where even Hade seemed taken aback. Then the Mage grinned.

Slowly he stepped forward and came to stand before me. He held out a hand.

“They call me Aroden,” he said. “Truly it is a pleasure to meet Will of Blackbriar.”

I blinked in surprise but took his hand.

“I’ll admit I didn’t have much faith when Lord Blackthorne said he sent word to you. We’ve had no contact with anyone inside the second wall. The Lord Governor won’t even allow messengers through the gate. We assumed…”

“You assumed correctly.” Aroden’s voice was grim.

“I know you may not believe this but I will speak the truth plainly. The Lord Governor has lost his reason. Since news of the Host marching on the south, he has been.. a different man.”

The Magus’s lips thinned.

“In the first days following the news, the changes were subtle. He is known to be an eccentric man, and so his shift in mood went largely unnoticed. That was until he began to have.. episodes. He would isolate himself in his quarters, sometimes for days. There was no way to reach him or send a message. Anyone who attempted to contact him would be sent away by his personal guard. Then came the paranoia.”

Aroden swallowed and licked cracked lips.

“His mistrust of us was clear. His guards watched us like birds of prey, and it wasn’t long before the accusations came. The Lord Governor may have started with a loyal household, but what he has allowed to fester within his court….” Aroden shook his head.

“Anyone who questioned our doubted him is long gone. He has surrounded himself with sycophants and would listen to no reason. Not in the war council months ago, and not now even as his city burns.”

“And you’re here to set it right?” The skepticism in my voice was plain.

Aroden laughed harshly, voice echoing off of the surrounding buildings.

“Do not mistake me for a hero, Ser William,” he said, eyes crinkled with mirth.

“I have no wish to face the Firebrand. Bravery is the jurisdiction of better men. No, what I offer you I do so not because of some misguided sense of duty. The school of water magic is much more subtle you see. In a fight between elements, it is almost always sure to lose.”

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming in the half-light.

“But water magic is not weak. It is simply, in essence, adaptable. In a battle between a Fire Magus and a Water Magus, one would expect the Fire Magus to win. And for that, they would likely be correct. In direct conflict, fire magic is the superior force…”

“Unless,” I promoted, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

“Unless,” Aroden conceded. “The approach is much less direct. With time to prepare, and with a focus on quantity. Well,”

She smiled, white teeth gleaming in the firelight. I rather thought it made him look like a shark.

“You will have a much different outcome.”

“So in other words you’re offering your help indirectly,” Growled Draxus. “With no guarantee that you’ll follow through and keep your word? You must be fucking joking.”

Aroden's dark eyebrows rose but he didn’t challenge Draxus’s statement. Instead, he kept his gaze locked firmly on me.

“Tell Lord Blackthorne that I will do as he commands.” He said. “But not because of any threat of his. No, I do so for a much simpler reason.”

He made to turn away, smoke swirling around him. I frowned and took a step forward.

“What is your reason?” I asked to his retreating back. Aroden turned his head just enough that I could see something I hadn’t before. A thick scar around his neck. Made no doubt, by the chafing of iron on skin.

“Revenge.” He said. And then he vanished into the darkness

***

The Alleyways of Ceris were a maze. In the darkness, it was impossible to see more than a few dozen meters in any direction. My men had their guards up, weapons ready as we rounded the corner.

The backstreet was empty of any enemies, but I now faced an even larger problem.

There were three branching paths leading into darkness and only one would take me where I needed to go - back through the courtyard. The other two.. It was impossible to tell where they would lead. We were short on time, and so, with no other choice, I made the call.

The men filed into the far right lane, one on the lookout and two behind. Draxus nodded to me as he passed, and I let him take the lead.

We ducked down the alleyway at a steady jog, careful to check to either side of us as we went. The backstreet was narrow, the ground stinking of old beer and piss.

“Well, at least we know we’re near a tavern,” muttered Kato.

We reached the end of the alleyway, stopping before a gap where a narrow cobbled street ran between houses. Draxus stepped forward, intending to peek around the corner. I saw the shadow and had only seconds to pull him backward before the Sand Drake appeared.

It was tasting the air again, tongue lulling over sharp blood-stained teeth. It was hunting us, and as prey, we were little more than mice.

For a moment I thought we might have gotten lucky. I saw the rider shift in his saddle, pulling on the reins and steering his mount aside. Perhaps there was a chance, however slim, that he might not have seen us.

Then I saw the gleam of white as he raised his horn to his lips.

I turned, heart slamming in my ribcage.

"Run!"