Iron Blooded

Fifty: Freedom's Price



The flames rose high into the air, and with them came the screams.

The smoke was thick enough to stick in my lungs as I drew in breaths. Draxus peered around the corner of a building and into the street beyond. The speed with which he retracted his head told me what I needed to know.

Enemies lurked somewhere beyond and that complicated things. Hade darted from the shadow of a nearby building and came to a stop beside me, eyes scanning for threats.

“We’re about three blocks away from the main square.” Said the soldier, nodding his head in the direction of the road. “We’d be wise to avoid it.”

“Agreed.”

I grimaced as the flare of fire magic lit the air once more.

“My concern is with those flames. The city has its own wells and cisterns, but I doubt that will be enough to put out these spreading fires.”

“If we find Lord Blackstone then we find the city’s water Magus,” said Draxus. I nodded grimly. At Jorgen’s signal, we slunk deeper into the shadows, muting the gleam of sharpened steel under our arms.

I could see the silhouette of two Ork warriors and moments later their barking guttural tongue became audible. They seemed to be bickering about something and even as I watched one of the Orks cut a hand through the air and hissed something that sounded a lot like a curse.

The second grunted in response tensing his large shoulders as if he might lunge. Then they both went still.

I heard the sound of claws on stone. Leather creaked and moments later two mounted outriders came into view.

The Orks dropped to one knee, horned heads bowed towards the newcomers.

It didn’t take me long to recognize the Black Armor and flaming lance of the Ork that Dacon had referred to as the Firebrand.

He sat atop his mount, a giant Sand Drake with scales such a deep red that they appeared almost wine-colored. It jerked its head from side to side, darting out a tongue to taste the air.

I ducked my head, hoping the gleam of my eyes hadn’t been visible as the creature looked my way. Beside me, Eric seemed to hold his breath. My own heart was pounding in my chest as I waited, tense as a drawn bowstring. If he spotted us now, we’d be lucky to make it out of this alive.

“Look how they run,” growled the Firebrand from atop his mount. I risked a glance up and saw his horned head turned towards the road. I could hear the distant shouts. Somewhere a baby cried, frantically hushed by it’s mother.

My stomach twisted with a mixture of trepidation and worry.

One of the Orks lifted his head and said something I couldn’t understand. The Firebrand tilted back his head and laughed, a deep throaty sound that vibrated the air.

“Just so,” he said, amused. “Tell the Kahn that he will have his revenge. But only once their War Chief is broken, and with him any hopes of their resistance.”

Urksol gripped the reigns of his mount and nudged the creature forward. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he turned his head back towards the Orks.

“Kill them,” he said. “Leave only a hundred survivors. After all, we will need someone to rebuild the walls.”

He rode away with the other outrider, the Sand Drakes, barbed tails disappearing around the side of a building. The Orks rose from where they had been kneeling in deference. One of them barked something, and I heard the returning howls of at least a dozen others.

Draxus gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly that the leather of his gloves creaked. Somewhere several houses down there came the slow and steady crash of heavy bodies against locked doors.

I gritted my teeth, thoughts racing. To delay our mission now was a gamble - but could I really afford to ignore the city's plight?

I had my orders. But orders weren’t everything. There came a time when a man had to choose for himself.

“Ready yourselves,” I growled into the darkness. There was the flash of sharpened blades in the night. Every one of my men knew our mission and knew the cost. But I could feel the sense of relief in the air as Draxus held my gaze and nodded.

“We wait,” I said, under my breath. “Wait until they are in the houses.”

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“But the civilians…” Jorgen trailed off.

“If we rush them now, we die,” I said. “This is all about timing. We wait for them to rush to the houses, then we come for them. Herd and trap them like animals and kill them before too much harm can be done.”

Draxus nodded his ascent, and his eyes went cold. Waiting was harder than I was willing to admit. The sound of Ork laughter, the crash of heavy bodies against stone, and the ever-present wailing of a baby nearby.

Every sound set my teeth on edge and the agony of waiting, of not knowing, made it that much worse.

Draxus shifted his weight and peered around the corner. Then he looked at me and nodded.

“Move out,” I hissed and the men obeyed. Hade and I took the lead, slipping into the street and checking both directions before motioning to the men to follow.

I could hear the sound of screaming, and the crashing of furniture inside. There was no time to delay.

“Move fast, and once we’re inside bar the doors. I want no survivors to tell the tale.”

Jorgen saluted with the flat of his blade and fell back with the others. We stepped into the cobbled street and saw the damage immediately. A man lay face down in a puddle of dark liquid. A nearby cart had been overturned, its contents scattered. The door to a housing building was hanging off its hinges, wood splinters laying strewn across the stone.

It creaked on the steady gust of wind.

We approached with muffled footsteps, swift but cautious. Inside the landing was a flight of steps and a trail of red made by the steady drip of blooded steel.

I nodded to Jorgen and Eric who moved forward to bar the door. Silently, I ascended the steps with Hade and Draxus in my toe. Wood creaked beneath my boot but I dared not pause.

There was a scream coming from somewhere above. A woman’s panicked scream. There was no more time for subtly. At the sound of our approach, a door in the hallway burst open An Ork had his Axe halfway raised when my sword took his head off. I was already moving past when the head hit the ground.

The scene before me was chaos. Two Orks knelt over a woman, binding her with thick rope. A man cowered in the corner, arms over his head.

There was a baby in a wooden crib near the far wall. It was squalling, and the Ork was closing in, spear raised over his head. The father didn’t even seem to register the danger. Growling I lurched forward, slamming my shield into the Ork and driving him into the wall. He tried to turn, throwing back his head but my helmet took the brunt of the blow.

I raised my sword up and around the rim of my shield and stabbed like a madman. The Ork grunted with each pierce of the blade, body, and head jerking. Behind I could hear the sounds of carnage as my men slashed and hacked at the other Ork.

Blood stained the soft carpet, spreading out across the floor. At last, the Ork feeble resistance gave way and the corpse slumped sideways.

I drew back, letting it crash to the floor with a thud. Something caught my eye and I glanced down to see a small pair of wide eyes peering at me. I knelt to see a child, no older than five or six huddled beneath the frame of the bed.

I glanced around, and, seeing the Orks were all corpses I held out a hand to her. She shrank back.

I realized too late that my snake scale gauntlet was covered in blood. I withdrew it hastily and stood.

The father was still huddled in the corner, his arms wrapped around his knees. He was wearing his night clothes and his eyes were large and terrified. Is set my jaw.

“Your family is safe,” I said over the sound of the babe. “But you need to get your wife an children and get out of here. Retreat to the inner gate and don’t delay.”

The man didn’t even seem to register my words. I turned away, disgusted.

The woman was on her feet, holding the baby against her chest. Although her face was tear-stained, there was a determination in her eyes.

“Thank you Ser William,” she said. “We have you to thank for our lives.”

I hesitated.

“You know me?” I asked, confused. The woman smiled.

“Many know of Will of Blackbriar. The first peasant to be named a Knight? It is a story that children will be told for the next hundred years.”

I felt my ears redden and turned away. Would she feel the same if she knew how close I had come to abandoning the outer city to it’s fate?

“You should flee,” I said. “The inner gate is the safest place for you, though I cannot guarantee your safety."

The woman nodded and knelt by the bed. She held out her hand and hesitantly, the little girl took it. She crawled out from beneath the bed and her mother shielded her eyes from the corpses.

"Markus," said the woman, her voice hesitant. The man glanced around, blinking.

"Is it over?" he asked, voice barely more than a croak. The woman shook her head.

"Not yet. We have to run, Markus. We can't stay here they'll find us. Ser Willaim says we must-"

"Ser William?" the man looked around and when his eyes landed on me his face crinkled in disgust.

"He and the Kadian Army were supposed to protect us. "And now what? We lose our homes all because you and your soldiers can't do their jobs? Some good you are."

He tried to spit on the wood, but the spittle only dribbled down his chin, soaking his nightshirt.

The woman's face paled as Draxus stepped around me. He towered over the man, glaring down at him as if he were an insect.

"And your job," he growled. "Was to protect your family. And yet here you sit cowered in the corner like a frightened rabbit while your wife at least fights for her life. What are you then, if not a worm?"

The man's face twisted and I saw a flicker of ugly anger. It disappeared as quickly as it had come. Grudgingly the man lowered his eyes and Draxus nodded slowly.

"Please, forgive my husband," said the woman, holding out a hand to him. "He is frightened and looking for someone to blame."

"Do not speak for me woman," snapped the man. He rose from the floor and dusted himself off, still not looking at Draxus. The tall warrior stood by, arms folded across his chest.

"Markus," said the woman slowly. "I only meant-"

The man brushed by Draxus, shooting me an angry look before snatching a satchel off the ground. He began stuffing things into it.

"We'll do as you advise," he said grudgingly. I nodded and turned as Hade burst into the doorway. His spear was bloodied.

"The building is clear, Ser William." said the soldier, still panting from exertion.

"What are your orders?"

I sucked in a breath and then nodded.

"Evacuate the people," I said. "Collect anyone you can. We need to get them to the inner walls, and soon. Lord Blackthorne will be where the fighting is thickest. I expect we'll meet him soon enough, where we're headed."


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