The Last Heroes Before Judgement (22 page)

The way ahead thinned from a small road to an even smaller cat walk. Every gust of icy wind that blew down from the peak nearly took me over the edge and looking down made my eyes spin. Several blue cluck houses were set up on a ledge cut further into the rock face, as well as a dried out glass-house for growing greens. I nearly caught up to Major Swiftblade when he slowed, however, it was only a stutter step. His cape smacked my cheek in a rush as he leapt up the mountain. With my shell catching all the air it could, I had to crawl my way up to the next level. From there, we ran through scarlet pines and the ever soggy living layer of bugs and fungi on the ground.

“Stop here, water.”

“Yes…sir.”

The Swiftblade was not out of breathe- he knew I was. While I stretched and drank hot water that tasted like burnt eggs, he rolled up his sleeves tightly above each gauntlet. He pulled the safety toggles from their loops and opened the loading chamber of the Drakkah cannon. The disk shaped cartridge was still safely backwards and backed off the firing pin in the secondary compartment. To my surprise, he kept it there. Then he revealed that the cloak’s broad shoulder plates had been hiding extra rounds the whole time. How many remained, I did not know. When he loaded a fresh cartridge into the front compartment, I was struck by the glare off its pristine Ulfbar steel. The muted black iron cover slid smoothly into place, silently from utilizing whale oil properly- for lubrication. He finished by punching out to utilize the spring based locking mechanism.

“The Lantos are secretly gods. There is no other explanation.”

Major Swiftblade checked the assembly on his right hand with a similar motion, forcing the long blade of Ulfbar steel to spring out to full extension. Being armed with the deadliest weapons was so gratifying that he wore the bloodlust on his face without any shame.

“Why do you think the Swillians want them dead?”

He retracted the blade with just as much ease and knelt for some water. I understood what he meant. The Lantos were the only reason the nation existed, and the only entity keeping it safe.

“Ugh. Don’t drink this water. You will get the runs.”

“Umm, yes sir.”

It was too late for me, because he had already confiscated the cleaned out powder bag for carrying fresh water. The bastard quickly drank his fill and stuffed it back into his uniform. He cracked his neck to both sides, and we were off. We had to crawl over the crest of the baby mountain because the sun was still up on the other side. Far across the Frozen Chalice Sea was a much larger mountain, propping up the western glacier. The sun was hiding behind it but the sky was still light enough to see everything. The tunnel emptied out far in the north where the sea ended at the raised tree covered shoreline. Small boats were still being rowed away from shore, making their way to the last remaining ship.

“Pirates.”

“No doubt hired by those Swillians there.”

Major Swiftblade pointed me south and into the sunset. Another ship was still escaping while a third, much larger- even with its increased distance- was waiting just within view. We could only see their profile against the sun from our high mountain top perch, yet somehow, he knew. The road was easily more than a hundred feet below us with the water just as far from the road. The paved road was much lower to the ground up north. The pirates had left a heavily entrenched roadblock there just outside of the tunnel’s exit. If we had tried to play catch up, not even Eso would have had time to turn. Over the edge of the small drop into the water was a gathering of half covered stones. In the shallow tide pool, they had also buried pikes pointed upright.

“How could they simply leave that there? What if more traders come through?”

“That’s what they want. You see how little power Kane has left. They want the people convinced he has none at all.”

“How does any of this help their cause?”

“See for yourself.”

He pointed me to the edge of the outcrop from which he was peeking. I crawled out, nervous the whole boulder would go loose and drop at any moment. A few miles north on the road, the convoy was trapped in felled trees and lay perfectly still in the wake of the perfectly timed ambush. They had clearly been too afraid of Major Swiftblade to stay on shore long. So, the pirates crushed the steeds and carts and littered the whole mess with arrows.

“And now, the Chron will never join the Unified Nations.”

“Separate, Isolate, Overcome. The same strategy they have played the world over.”

All I could do was wear an angry face. The Swillian Empire was one founded in evil. The bloodline of Goja had plagued the world long enough.

“I must kill the Emperor myself. There can be no other way.”

“That is exactly what Carolus said. It is the only reason they let you live.”

He spoke while completely removing his cape. Once he unraveled the layer tucked under the plates, I saw that there were only two cartridges remaining. He rearranged one to the other side for balance and pulled at a string from under a seam. A long roll of cloth came out in the shape of a sock with thin metal chains linked together at the end. Once he had the cloth laid out smooth he put his cloak back on snug.

“You…pretend to be the ghost of that madman Gojinus. Say’s you’ll get in right through the front door.”

“That’s a great idea sir. But, uh, what is it you are doing now?”

“This is called a parachute. We are out of range, no?”

He pulled the rear lever of his Drakkah and two aiming apertures shot out on opposing ends of the cannon’s barrel. His finger pointed to the measuring lines where the maximum range was labeled with a capital ‘Y’.

“One hundred yards. From here? No sir, we are too high up.”

“Any further and it just showers them in sparks. Although, we may need a distraction.”

“A distraction for what sir?”

“Air superiority.”

He emphasized the power of such a weapon with a balled fist. I thought we had just discussed the lack of potency from any projectile as we were so clearly out of range. I peeked over the edge once more, only to see the ship was dropping sails. The men in the row boat had taken too long and were being left behind.

“Prepare to count.”

“Count what?”

The cloth was draped over his shoulder and he had the opening spread wide by the tiny chains securely fastened to the cartridge. With the tiny obelisk from his belt, he punctured the top piece of the small metal disk. I dove away expecting an explosion. Instead, a fire burst out in a flash and then a spinning fan blade from within controlled the flame enough to spray only hot air. The parachute ballooned out as it filled up with that hot air. Just before he let go, Major Swiftblade shot daggers at me with his eyes.

“Right! One, two, three…”

“Don’t stop counting.”

I was so focused on counting and watching the balloon rise that I was standing and shouting. The balloon blinked every other number with a fiery red light and I was not the only one transfixed on the bright display.

“Get down boy, your eyes are glowing like the sun.”

“Owie! Twenty-one, oh no.”

“Don’t stop.”

At the count of twenty-two, the balloon was caught by the cold northern winds, and shot backwards over the mountain range. By twenty-five, the damn thing was completely out of sight. And, by the count of thirty, arrows were boring into the trees around us.

“Ha! Their sails are frozen with weight. Their cannons are out of range as well.”

“Forty-two, but I, forty-four, don’t see, forty-six…”

The Swiftblade kept looking back into the trees as if he had called for some reserve unit that could not possibly have followed unnoticed. As the ship drew closer and closer to our area, so did their arrows.

“Dammit boy, close your eyes. You are being remote viewed in on! That glow is giving away our position.”

“But, we need a distraction. What?”

I was laying there helpless, eyes planted firmly open and staring into the darkening sky. My mind was still my own, though, it did not feel that way.

“What are you doing? Get down!”

“We need a distraction!”

I was up on my feet and running south to a particularly muddy bit of untrustworthy slope.

“We need a distraction!”

I could not shake the thought, let alone blink of my own volition.

“We need a distraction!”

Sprinting at full speed, my legs betrayed me. I went tumbling down the steep decline and suddenly found myself once more in control of my own body. Just as I got my legs out and righted my sliding shell to feet first, the archers let out the call. At an impossible speed, I was blocking legitimate enemy fire with nothing but sea turtle shells. I could not contain the nerves and the pride, and the pirates heard me chasing after them with a wicked high-pitched cackle. Then the ground disappeared from beneath me altogether. My fingertips barely managed to catch the wet edge of the high road and I was safely prone on the cliff before the last arrow bounced off my back shell. By then, they were no longer shooting at us.

There was a giant scarlet phoenix diving down from above the ship. The loyal beast had snatched the parachute right out of the air and followed the signal to meet his enemies. With his steady corkscrew flight pattern, none of the archers even came close to stopping him. At a point twice the height of the highest mast he opened his wings into the northern wind and quickly returned to the safety of higher elevations. The explosive Nitrosus cartridge punctured a weak point of the deck and made it down below with the cannons and the flash powder. Screams were quickly drowned out by the groaning of the hull being torn apart from within. The explosion was close enough to smack me down with a deafening gust of wind.

The men in the last row boat were trying to help their mates out of the freezing water but they were being dragged down below without hopes of resurfacing. They had no bows on them and so even they fell victim to the phoenix. He returned with a sideways dive that killed two out right but the final two pirates fought to the death. In the end, the poor phoenix was also slain. When his body slumped limp onto the side of the small row boat, the whole thing flipped. In the darkness, the stars shimmered across the calm surface and turned the fiery sinking boat into a beautiful reflection of the night sky. Only a small sliver of the moon was missing and the glow showed the last secret power of the Lantos. That scarlet phoenix was not simply a well-trained and giant alpha male, he was being controlled- just like the rest of us- by a golden hilt implanted in the back of his head. Thankfully, his hollow bones kept him afloat better than the overturned row boat. The tide slowly pushed him back to shore so the gold could be recovered.

“Matthius, what’s the count?”

“Sir?”

Major Swiftblade was leaning over his safe boulder perch staring out at the other boat. I turned back, too angry to watch them get away.

“At least fifty-to-one sir! And it serves them right!”

He was uninterested in my false answer. To the south, someone else had hidden inside the mountain where the rock pinched closer to the far glacier. Just as the second boat passed through that pinch point, another parachute appeared. Though fully inflated, the cartridge itself had been punctured, preventing it from rising. However, the secondary flame propelled the screeching explosive along the surface of the water without so much as dimming. The pirates on deck shot arrows out into the rock face at random until the thing reached the ship’s hull. The parachute stuck to the wood while the cartridge bounced around setting it ablaze. Then it burst and tore a small hole in the bottom of the boat. Fire must have blown in as well because pockets of flash powder erupted all over the ship until it too burst apart at the seams.

“Make that one-hundred-to-one boy!”

“Yea! Justice for the Ambassador!”

“Death for the wicked!”

“Matthius! We are out of time!”

Major Swiftblade pointed up to the moon. Even hidden behind the smoke and the clouds, I knew the full moon celebration was only one day away.

“Crow’s top-knot! Take it to the Chron, for the spirits.”

He even waved his fingers about like a drunken mystic for emphasis.

“Wait, where are- master wait for me!”

“There is no time! Stop hesitating! Run!”

The Swiftblade poked his head over the side and shooed me away like a child. He was headed back for Eso. I knew the bodies had to be burned to prevent a plague, thankfully, I would miss this one. Everything had happened so quickly that the adrenaline was still flexing my heart into my ribs. Following orders instinctively, I began the near three mile run up the road. From having my new friends brutally killed in an ambush, my existential container for excess rage had been filled to the brim. And, without a moment’s rest, I was to finish their mission. The Lantos had used me for bait, yet again, and I wanted to tear their world apart. Ambassador Crow died as a direct result of their arrogance. While his body was still warm, they were no doubt calling forth any man who knew of this mission and scanning all their minds to find the traitor.

The wind blew the retched smell of death at me and it only got worse as I approached. I tried to look away as best I could. I tried to focus on the shimmering starlight reflecting off of the water. A few of the ship’s pieces were floating away and several others bobbed on the dark surface trying to flee. Given the length of the rope still trapping buoyant objects in place, the water was no deeper than the top mast was before it had capsized. However shallow, the water was so cold that not one single man escaped it alive.

The cold air set in on my bones as I slowed. I even, just for one moment, pondered taking a shirt. But, I could not convince myself to steal from a dead man. Just as the Chron would make a ritual for Crow’s spirit out of naught but a bunch of his hair, even the sun worshippers believed in the hauntings of angry souls. And worse, every scrap of cloth that could, had fully soaked itself in blood. Shale’s cart was free, but his steed was just as crushed as the Ambassador's spoiled mare. Both he and Clarence had their swords drawn, suddenly finding them useless against the cowards and their arrows. I knew Major Swiftblade would retrieve their silver swirls. I could only wonder if Eso was capable of swearing a vengeance for the mare that he was sweet on.

Ambassador Crow’s cart was crushed completely with no way left to get inside. To my surprise, under the cover of darkness, they had stopped inside the tunnel. Poor Slip died finely dressed, warmly napping, lulled to sleep by the false sense of protection the boxed wagon supposedly offered. The clever Crow was driving. The sudden stop threw him into the same tree that killed his steed. Still wrapped in his arms, even after death, was the chest of loot intended for the Chron. His hair was already wrapped up and tucked into Slip’s servant’s shirt.

“All that I see, I am become.”

As much as the scene made me want to vomit in general, I gathered the courage to close his eyes for the last time. I found the key to the chest by accident, as it had been hidden in Master Crow’s hair tie, and I felt the cold metal poking through the top knot in my hand. I ran for a sword and carefully removed the hair without blemishing the body. The contents of the chest were split in two down the middle. The left half was filled to the brim with purple Lokah pearls, not yet tainted by the beading process. On the right was another bold statement from the Lantos. Tiny ingots of gold, the size of my thumb, were stacked neatly amongst enough stones of coal to smelt all of the gold. Something I could not have known somehow came to mind. Each ingot was the exact mass required to fill a single hilt, and it was surely the Lantos version of a test. It was all too much. I slammed the lid of the chest and looked away, closing my eyes tight against the gathering tears.

“Major Swiftblade? Sir, is that you?”

I brandished the sword and the noise continued without a response. I swung wildly, standing and wiping tears from my eyes. The noise was far away. I was hearing the echo from the rock face.

“Halt!”

The clicking was hiding amongst the splashing, and I yelled down into the water.

“You there. I see you. You are an enemy of the state, turn yourself in at once.”

Either they knew I was bluffing, or they did not care. The noise continued unabashed, but still I saw no one in the water. The phoenix had floated to shore nearly a mile away but it was not moving of its own volition. I watched the small waves attempt to push him onto shore and it was then that I finally saw the blinking in the open.

“By the light of day. The creepers are real.”

There the beast was, oddly shimmering against the black darkness. The thing looked like a bird that had grown gills by accident and still flapped its wide wings to move. The creeper was too weak to pull the phoenix back into the water and it angrily snapped bolts of lightning at him from the glowing tentacles under its belly. That’s why not a single man had swam to shore. The creepers pulled them down and paralyzed them before ever I heard their final scream. I shuttered at the ugly truth of being eaten alive, only to finally elate at the sweet release of drowning at sea.

“I’m so sorry Master Crow.”

I embraced him once more, and laid his hands over his heart. Unlike the others, his face was still strained in agony. His death would have been instantaneous, however, his final thought would surely have been on failing to keep peace with the Chron Nation.

“You did not die in vain, I promise.”

The thought of belonging to the Swillian race made me spit in the water. But, if the convoy had to ride through the night, then I would be running for days. No food, no water, no weapons, and no more time for delay. I replaced the sword in Shale’s hand where I had found it and even cut my own arm for him.

“There, you spilled some Swillian blood. Now go in peace.”

Though it was not at all possible, Shale’s dead face twisted into the smile of evil pleasures.

The chest was heavy and the journey was long. With hate in my heart and the smell of death all around, I trotted off swearing revenge. Occasionally, a burst of bubbles would erupt through the surface carrying the final dying cry of some dirty pirate that deserved much worse. And, each time I saw it, I made sure to spit on their watery grave.