The Keys to Ascension Page 35

  But he’s like sixty years old! I met him with dad. He didn’t look like a fighter! He’s not that big and can’t run that fast!

  The man, Sovereign or not, charged toward Lizeto, then past him and into the breach. He skillfully dodged, parried, and struck down enemies.

  One more massive chant of, “The Sovereign, The Authority, The Divinity!” roared throughout the city before seemingly every knight, man at arms, and able body male in the city rushed the breaches.

  Lizeto followed The Sovereign out this breach and fought like hell. Arrows again rained onto the oncoming enemy, although it was more of a shower of arrows than the previous thunderstorm. Hyzantrians charged from their defensive positions and into the bloody land in front of the walls.

  Kericles, fighting just next to Lizeto yelled, “This is madness! Hyzantrians are fools!”

  Lizeto let the front-line pass him. He could hardly hold up his shield and sword. The Divinity, I can barely stand. But he followed behind, prepared to fight when they were overwhelmed, which would surely be soon. The mass of horses that had been standing behind the mostly burning catapults moved forward in formations. These formations, combined with the mobility and skill of the horsemen, made the easterners invincible in open battle.

  Fire balls launched, killing and blowing away men, but the Hyzantrians somehow kept pushing forward. Half the army appeared to be civilians fighting with the weapons of the dead. Oh demonic hell, we’re all gonna get slaughtered.

  Kericles yelled, “Why are we pushing away from the walls? We’re almost out of arrow range!”

  Lizeto glanced back. The archers threw down their bows and picked up fallen swords before climbing down the enemy ladders and dashing toward the fight.

  Lizeto yelled forward at Kericles, who somehow still had the strength to fight. “I never believed in that divinity crap. Maybe I was never a true Hyzantrian for it. My dad and I were always pretty independent.” He thought of his loveless father. He probably sat in his own fortress, trapped by the roaming horsemen outside, but safe for the moment. He told Lizeto he’d die if he fought for The Authority. He said to ride it out with him in the fortress. But Lizeto didn’t listen; maybe he should have.

  A spear flew over the man in front of him. Lizeto lifted his shield, deflecting it, but the blow knocked the shield out of his hand. Lizeto let it lay, then moved toward the fighting with two hands on his sword.

  Enemy horsemen now charged, not straight on like the Hyzantrian style, but at an angle with their spears lifted, ready to throw. Lizeto glanced around for the golden Sovereign, but didn’t see him. He must still be alive, or everyone would have fled, right?

  For an entire minute, spears flew toward the Hyzantrians, slaughtering civilians and slowing knights, who already fought enemy infantry.

  The horse hordes wheeled about, swords drawn. They’d charged the weakest spots and rode past the strong again and again, dropping Hyzantrians with curved blades the entire time.

  Another shout came from the Hyzantrians all at once, as if on cue. “The Sovereign, The Authority, The Divinity.”

  Somehow, the crooked Hyzantrian line kept moving forward, fighting against infantry as the enemy horsemen rumbled toward Lizeto’s comrades.

  For some reason, the rumble was way freaking louder from the left, and moving in the wrong direction.

  A booming shout from that direction that seemed to spread from deep within easterner lines said, “The Sovereign, The Authority, The Divinity.”

  Lizeto couldn’t see what was going on. The easterners charged, but not directly near the Citians, they’d take on those hulks later. Imagine if our knights used estra. We’d have easily won this war. Damn The Divinity. Damn The Authority. Damn the Sovereign. And damn my people’s blind faith!

  Kericles yelled, “Who in glory’s name is that!?”

  The enemy infantry masses seemed to stop coming. The horse charges continued, but slowed as easterner calvary saw the strange new event.

  Lizeto pushed forward, stabbing an enemy through an eye while also viewing the great surprise. Lizeto muttered while smartly falling back behind the lines, letting his knights defend him, “That’s the southern army…”

  Kericles, his shoulders moving left and right as he fought forward, yelled, “What?”

  Louder this time, Lizeto said, “The army that was betrayed by the northern eastern empire. It was trapped in the south. Somehow they sailed north and committed a naval charge.”

  “A naval charge?”

  “We have huge planks that we lay on the front of our boats, creating ramps. We beach all the ships and our knights charge right off them down the ramps. It creates a pain in the butt to get all the ships off the beach, but it’s the fastest way to get men into battle.”

  Kericles yelled, “it sure surprised the easterners.”

  He no longer moved like he fought. Lizeto glanced around. No one did. The Hyzantrians didn’t push forward. They stood and watched as a horde of plate-covered knights slammed through unprepared easterners like a surpise wave crashing through beachgoers.

  Lizeto muttered, “It’s a freaking bloodbath.”

  Following the mounted knights, infantry charged, cleaning up the enemy.

  Kericles exclaimed, “Good glory, I’ve never seen so many men die all at once.”

  Chants of “The Sovereign, The Authority, The Divinity.” seemed to echo around them.

  They’re never gonna stop that chant now…how did the army escape the south?

  Ch. 61

  Theto rolled out of his trundle, grogginess clouding his mind. The fort seemed empty…it was. Somehow the easterners hadn’t figured it out yet. Grabbing his swords and sheathing them at his side, he made his way to the outer wall. Most of the mercenaries stayed on them to give the appearance of a fully occupied fort, but the truth was…it had been weeks since the Hyzantrians left by boats at night, taking all the river traveling vessels and leaving the mercenaries trapped alone.

  Georgy approached him on the walls. “Yup, the Hyzantrians still abandoned us and we’re still surrounded by a horse horde.”

  Theto leaned forward against the ramparts. “I don’t blame them. Their homeland was under attack.”

  Georgy snorted. “Your homeland too. You still think of Hyzantria as home?”

  “It will always be where I’m from; originally at least.”

  Theto looked at the rising sun. “We got another hour before our wall duty, let’s eat.”

  Georgy smiled. “At least Hyzantrians left plenty of food. We just have to wait for these ribbon fools to attack.”

  Then we get to die…

  They walked into the interior of the castle to the kitchen where a few cooks worked. A man with a cart of food moved by. Theto eyed it greedily.

  The cart-pusher snarled. “These are for men on the walls.”

  Wall guarding was the most boring duty possible—standing for twelve hours. At least he got to eat once during the station.

  Something caught Theto’s eye. A few people sat at a long table near the kitchens. It still looked weird to see only a few people at it. Before, it was full of eating soldiers. But Theto’s eyes widened and he sucked in his breath as he saw who sat their eating roasted chicken. He whispered, “Her.”

  “Huh?” Georgy stopped and stared at Theto.

  Theto ignored him and shuffled toward her like she drew him in with some strange enchantment. She didn’t use magic, but her beauty alone grabbed him with more power than any sorcerer’s charm.

  He sat across from her, staring into her green eyes, then whispered, “You, you shouldn’t be here.”

  She smirked. Even when making a sideways smirk, she radiated cuteness. “No one should be here.”

  She took a bite of chicken.

  He slowly shook his head. “How’d you get in? What are you doing here?” I missed you. Why don’t you visit me more often? I think I love you.

  “I’ll tell you the first one later. The second is more important. The so
uthern empire just wants you gone. With a sufficient distraction, if you get a head start, they’ll let you go. We’re not too far from the border after all.”

  “Yeah, well, any sufficient distraction will require a team or two of men to do it. And then we’d be leaving them behind.”

  She smiled, then her eyes focused to the side of Theto.

  Georgy sat down next to him carrying two plates of chicken and corn. He placed one in front of himself and the other in front of Theto. He sang, “Loo-oooooks like we have a ladyyyyyy.”

  She smiled at his ludicrously handsome face. Jealousy shot through Theto. He grabbed a corn cob and started eating.

  “Hi,” Georgy said, “and who might you be, my lady?” He offered his hand.

  She shook it. “Who I am doesn’t matter, sir. I’m here to rescue you.”

  Theto kept munching on corn, already imagining her and Georgy’s tongues wrapping around each other in a wet embrace.

  Georgy smirked. “That sounds dangerous. Why do that for us?”

  “I care about Theto.”

  Theto controlled the urge to blush as embarrassment was quickly replaced by confidence. “I like the sound of that. But how will you help?”

  “Prepare the mercenaries to leave. Then, you’ll know the time to go when you see it. You’ll have to fight your way out, but most of the enemy will be distracted, if not running in fear.”

  Theto set down his finished corn. “In fear of what?”

  She stared at him intently with her green eyes that shone out of her cute round face surrounded by light brown hair. “Me.”

  #

  Theto stood bearing the blasting words of Major Ripface that hit Theto like a wind gust trying to blow him over.

  “I can’t believe I just controlled myself from not ripping your head off right now. We don’t make military decisions based on our little girlfriend’s opinion.”

  Theto already explained that this was no ordinary girl, but that almost got him killed already.

  Georgy, who stood to Theto’s right, spoke up. “Major, couldn’t we pack things up just in case? So, if there is a distraction, we’re prepared to sally out and leave. If there is no distraction, no harm, just a little busy work for some of the mercenaries.”

  Theto chirped in, “We are getting quite restless.”

  Ripface stared at Georgy through narrowed eyes, the giant scar on the left side of his face quivering in anger. “You met this girl?”

  “Yes sir. She had a mysterious air about her. I say it’s worth a shot.”

  The Major continued staring in silence. “Ahhhhhh,” he threw up his hands, “holy hell what have we got to lose. This sounds like something out of the stories, but I’ll convince the mercenary chief. If you numbskulls make me look like a fool, then they’ll be calling all three of us ripface.”

  #

  Two days later, Georgy and Theto stood on wall duty.

  “Borrrrrrr-ed out of miii-iiiiiiindha.” Georgy sang. “Watchinnnnng the horseys patrollllllll and more cata-puuuultssssss amaaaaaass.”

  Theto pinched the bridge of his nose. “You need better inspiration.”

  “Yeah, well, when’s your girl gonna do her thing?”

  Theto shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  “When is Ripface gonna rip our faces?”

  Theto smiled. “Hey, that would give you some inspiration.”

  Giant thuds shook the ground to the fort’s right, followed by screaming.

  Theto couldn’t see the ground over there, but rampaging about where the enemy army should be was a giant monster towering over that end of the fort. Its long teeth, pulsating veins, and whipping tentacles flashed around striking the easterners below it.

  She looks like Perlio. Oh, The Divinity. Is she one of them? Theto couldn’t make sense of Perlio and his apparently evil plan to capture him. It just confused him so much that he put it out of his mind. But seeing another monster caused the memory of the first one to play again inside his skull. If she’s one of them, then has she just been playing me this whole time?

  “No.” he whispered. “I thought I loved her…”

  The monster lifted men and horse into the sky, tearing them in two and flinging them even higher into the air. Those she kicked flew far and away. She growled a gurgly, deep growl that seemed to shake Theto’s organs.

  “To your prepared packs,” a captain yelled, “then to your designated evacuation positions.”

  Theto stared at the monster. “What is going on? Who are these people!?”

  Georgy grabbed Theto by the shoulders and yanked him away from the wall. After his feet landed, he struggled against his friend.

  Georgy yelled, “Forget it! It’s time to go.”

  They, with other mercenaries, jogged down the steps, ran to their packs, put them on their backs, and lined up near the west gate.

  Mercenaries yelled for battle as the gate opened. They marched out. As Theto cleared the gateway and got a good look at the enemy, the battle-ready intensity in his mind vanished. Abandoned catapults stood in their way, but the easterners left the west side open to rally against the monster.

  Theto and the mercenaries marched out of there without a fight.

  Ch. 62

  As an inquisitor, Parto could never relax, never let his guard down; even if wearing street clothes didn’t draw the eyes of all around him, as well as their respect and fear, like his inquisitor robes would. He blended into the chatting, drinking, eating, and dancing celebrators, looking for his brother.

  Parto arrived at the capital shortly before the news did—news that the last easterner fled across the border. Their numbers were so devastated from their failed siege that the rest of the Hyzantrian campaign involved searching and destroying. It appeared that Hyzantrian borders would again be respected by the infidels of the east.

  Parto declined generous offers of wine and ale, and even the proposals to dance from drunk women. He needed to find his brother. Not needed, there was no need. But deeply wanted. Despite his devotion to the inquisition, he couldn’t let his old life just die. He was still an Arrassio.

  He heard Citian singing and headed toward that. As he expected, the Citians partied with their ship in sight, and Lizeto and Finio celebrated with them.

  Lizeto and Finio chatted, drinks in hand, leaning against a long bar table. Kericles and his kin sang loud and boisterously in Tonguelin.

  Parto approached his brother, but still hadn’t decided whether to tell him about their mother. Finio had no clearance for the information, but it would do no harm, except possibly the effect on Finio of knowing his mother truly was a Maleefa.

  Lizeto saw Parto and slapped Finio on the shoulder while pointing. “Wow looky here! If it isn’t the mine survivor himself!” He turned toward Finio. “Did your brother tell you what the Divinity lovers did to him? Not many can survive that.”

  Good. Finio didn’t tell him that I’m an inquisitor.

  Finio and Parto hugged. The three of them talked of the war before sliding into the olden days of peace, sedeux, and meaningless fun.

  Finio looked off into the distance, his eyes wetting. “Any news of Theto? He went east. Maybe he got hit in the initial invasion?”

  Parto said, “Maybe he’s on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, enjoying a calm existence.”

  Lizeto shook his head. “Too bad. He’d for sure become a professional sedeux player. I’ve never seen anyone dance like him.”

  Finio and Parto nodded, saying at the same time, “He was the best.”

  They eyed each other, then the three of them laughed.

  Lizeto smirked at Parto. “Did you hear? Your brother practically died, but now he looks as good as new. He’s some sort of amazing healer.”

  Finio smiled and nodded his head to the side like he was about to humbly accept the compliment when Lizeto suddenly turned, looking at something behind them. “What the?”

  Parto spun around, not yet moving a hand toward one of
his concealed daggers.

  The world became a dream as Parto’s mind seemed to float out of his body. He muttered, “Her.”

  “The girl from the sedeux match?” Lizeto asked.

  Finio shook his head, whispering, “Girl or witch?”

  Parto felt the guard on his left arm; able to absorb magic, it had saved his life. Who is this woman?

  She came right for him, then grabbed his upper arm. It swam with pleasure that emanated outward from the touch.

  She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Your true enemies make their move: tonight.”

  “Huh? I have no true enemies.”

  She dragged him away from Lizeto and Finio. He followed blindly as Lizeto yelled, “Hey! Where are you taking ma boy?”

  “Parto.” She whispered his name like an angel showing him the light. “Slip into your robes and head to the north tower.”

  “But, what for? That spire couldn’t give me much of a view at night.”

  “You will see, then you will warn. I wouldn’t expect you to warn without seeing yourself.”

  “But…are you sure you haven’t celebrated to hard?”

  She gently ran her elegant fingers through the hair on the back of his head, then grabbed it and pulled it toward her. He sucked in breath, almost losing it all before they kissed. Her lips were like a refreshing glass of sweetened water after a hot day of work, except no sweetened water made him feel like this. He had no idea what to do, but before he could think about it, it was over.

  Her green eyes stared up at him. “Go.”

  She turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

  Parto stared after the mystery woman who had been toying with him for what seemed like ages. Then, he ran for his nearest bunk.

  #

  As a full inquisitor, he had no problem gaining acquiescence from the guards to let him to the top, and his conditioning made the endless spiraling stairs no major obstacle. Parto stood, staring off into the darkness. What am I supposed to see up here?