Chapter 40 Massacre
We ran at the hustling guard’s pace to the upper city’s far side. For some reason, everyone formed up into ranks as we jogged. Wylie loudly asked a question for everyone to hear: “Where were his legionnaire guards?”
Firth grunted, “He should have had at least a dozen. My guess is they are all dead as well.”
Konstantin, leading us, shouted back, “He had fifteen. I checked this morning and warned them of the enemy in the city.”
We turned to a wide street with opulent buildings of white marble highlighted with black granite. We had not patrolled this part of the city, and the polished stone made for an impressive site. Even the road was made from textured gray granite. Regis muttered, “Damn. In my next life, I want to be a Portal Mage.”
“If Janus bestows you that blessing for the life of debauchery you have lived, I might as well not try to be so pious any longer!” Pavel grunted.
“Who is Janus?” I asked no one in particular.
Firth responded, “You don’t have gods in your lands, Eryk? Janus is our god of Rebirth. The god of endings and new beginnings.”
I had heard some old Roman gods worshiped and even passed by a few temples in the cities, but I had never heard people worshiping them openly before. Maybe in a world of magic, their miracles were less important. Even though the guard leading us was sucking wind, we could all talk easily at his slow pace. I asked, “How many gods do you worship in Telhian?”
Firth barked with mirth, “You do not worship the gods. You respect them and ask for favors.”
Wylie added to my knowledge, “There are maybe thirty faces of divinity the First Legion brought with them. But the only true god you will ever see is an ancient dragon delivering its vengeance on a city.” There were murmurs of agreement.
We slowed to a walk as we could see a number of our legion company milling outside one of the residences. There did not appear to be any current threat, as they were just guarding the building and keeping people away. Konstantin went inside, and we talked to the other members.
“It is a blood bath in there. They broke through the wall in the basement,” Lucien said to us.
Orson added, “Foul magic, just ripped the men apart.”
Firth asked seriously, “How many of ours dead?”
“The mage and all of his men, maybe twenty in total when you include his family. But there are so many body parts around it is hard to count,” Orson added.
“Did they kill any of the Bartirdians?” Wylie asked.
Olson nodded. “Eighteen, I think, maybe nineteen. They retreated back into the sewers after they killed the mage.”
Konstantin came outside, “Eryk, you are needed inside.”
I started walking, confused, “Which potion?”
Konstantin shook his head no, and said, “Castille is going into the sewers. Go see her.” I swore in my mind. Every time there was a dangerous mission, I was involved. I would have been better off lugging rocks in a quarry to pay back the farmers. I might have ended up crippled, but at least I would have been alive.
I entered the house and passed the entryway; blood and gore made the floor slick and slippery. I paused at the carnage that covered the once gorgeous polished stone walls and floors. They were not kidding. Bodies were ripped apart at the torso. The site didn’t faze me as much as it would have just a month ago.
I was immune to the metallic smell of blood. The dead eyes of the men still gave me the chills, and I avoided making eye contact. I was waved into the basement and found Adrian, Delmar, and Castille talking by an opening in the wall, emitting a foul odor. Large stones from the wall were strewn on the floor. By the rancid smell, it was definitely an access to the sewers. Castille looked up, and I dreaded what she was going to say.
“Eryk, I need you to harvest the essence from the men here, just the enemies. I do not have time to do it myself. Here,” she handed me her essence collector, and I was confused. Happy would be a better word, as I was not going into the sewers. I turned over the disc that was twice the diameter of mine in my hands. Castille snapped, “Do you not know how to use it?”
Panic welled up. Was this a test? Did she suspect I had taken the essence from the others? I played stupid, “No, I have never used this,” I indicated the device I held. “The only magical item I have ever used was the translation amulet in training.”
Castille studied me for just a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “Were you able to charge the amulet?” I nodded. “It is the same. Just keep the center of the collector between the heart and head, rest it on the body, but keep it level. If you don’t, the formed essence will roll off the disc.”
She did not give any more of an explanation as she went into the opening, followed by Delmar, Adrian, Konstantin, and two members of the city guard. There were three bodies in the basement, and I moved to the first one. He had been wearing fine chain mail, but it had not saved him from a spear to the heart. Not that using a spear inside the confines of a house would have been my first choice.
I laid the disc and was interrupted as Firth came down the stairs, “Did they already head in?”
“Castille was leading them into the sewers,” I pointed at the destroyed wall.
“I will not let them have any fun without me,” Firth grumbled as he made his way to the opening. If Firth thought trudging through other people’s shit was fun, I needed new friends. The other men started moving the bodies of the dead legionnaires and the mage and his family outside. I used the collector on the enemies and ended with one apex strength essence. Three major essences, one each of power, endurance, and quickness. And ten lesser essences that were a mix of strength, constitution, and endurance. I put all of them into a bag. Fourteen of eighteen bodies had given an essence.
I started helping move the bodies. Outside, there was a cart to take them away. Wylie noted dead bodies in a city during a siege spread disease, so we needed to get them buried outside the city before the enemy arrived and surrounded the walls. I noticed Mage Gregor walking toward us on the road with nine of his men at his back, walking in a three-by-three square.
Orson, our company’s other scout, went to talk with him since all our leadership was kneedeep in shit. They were too far away to overhear, and I continued back into the residence to remove more bodies. I asked Wylie, “Do we have to clean up the blood too?”
“No, when Castille returns, she will hire some citizens to do it. The Empire owns this building. The Displacement Mage just gets to live here as part of his extensive compensation,” Wylie said while we carried the top and bottom half of a body outside on a bed sheet. The residence was extremely lavish from what I had seen in my time so far in the Telhian Empire. The furniture was exotic wood, the library was filled with leather-bound books, every room had a woven rug, and the bedrooms looked almost modern to my eye. Of course, everything was marred by blood and body parts.
When we got outside on this trip, Mage Gregor was getting animated, and from the wisps of the conversation, he did not sound happy that Mage Castille had traveled into the sewers to search for the assassins. I think he was mostly worried about being the only mage left to defend the city from the approaching army.
On the next trip, we went upstairs and grabbed the last body. I recognized the man, and it was the third judge in the Tribunal I attended when I returned with the remains of Durandus’ men. “It looked like he was killed defending his family,” Wylie muttered. I noticed the blood stains of bodies already removed by others. We loaded him onto a bed sheet and carried him outside with the others.
Four of Gregor’s legionaries went into the basement as we brought the mage’s body to the cart. Gregor left with the rest of his men. I still had Castille’s essence collector on my back and was curious to know what the mage would yield. But it seemed Castille’s policy was only to harvest the enemy, not our own. I asked Orson, who was cursing up a storm after Mage Gregor left, “Orson, should I harvest all the bodies for essence? Castille only told me to collect the enemy.”
A highly irritated Orson replied, “Castille believes if you take the essence from a person, they are weaker when they are reborn into their next life. If you want to give your essence to your family when you die, just let her know. She will arrange it if she can,” Orson replied hastily before going into the residence and following Gregor’s men. Twelve men of the company stood covered in blood while civilians took the carts away.
There was some uncertainty, so I offered, “How about six of us remain here, and the rest go to the villa to eat and clean up? When you are fed and clean, come back and relieve us.”
I picked the men I knew to return first. Brutus, Mateo, Felix, Pavel, Regis, and Wylie. It felt awkward being the least experienced person in the group to give an order—or maybe it was a suggestion. They followed it, and we were left. I told three men, Donte, Benito, and Linus to go to the basement and stand guard over the passage.
I remained outside with two legionaries I had not talked much with, Blaze and Caius. Blaze was the best archer in the company, and Caius was not too far behind. Caius was also deadly accurate with a pilum out to fifty paces. We stood in the sun while brushing away flies, trying to land and lay eggs on our blood-soaked uniforms.
Caius asked, “Did you actually kill five men to Konstantin’s two?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice. I had learned that Konstantin was probably the best raw fighter in the company.
“No, just four. The last one killed herself,” I replied, trying to sound modest.
Blaze injected, “She was so dazzled by your skill, she just jumped on your blade? Maybe we should put you at the front of an army, and you can conquer the world for the Empire, the great Satis Galdio!” He said in good-natured teasing, using the nickname I had been saddled with.
I countered, “She was the last one standing and did not want to be captured,” I said softly, reflecting that I did not think I would be brave enough to sacrifice myself in such a manner. I had to respect the dwarf woman.
Silence reigned for a while until Mateo and Felix came strolling down the road. I released Blaze and Caius to return to the villa. I guess I was somehow in charge. Brutus, Pavel, and Regis returned next, and I sent them to the basement. Wylie came a half hour later, eating a large bun sold on carts in the city. He handed me one from inside his armor with a big smile. I gave him a curt thank you as I left to be the last one to return to the villa.
It was late evening, and I thought I deserved to take a side trip to the baths. I had only walked maybe fifty yards when a shout came from behind me, “Castille’s back.” I froze mid-step and slowly returned.
As they emerged from below, we all kept our distance as the smell was horrendous. “Where is everyone?” Castille asked.
I answered from a safe distance, “I sent half the men back to wash and eat. When they returned, the others went. I was the last one.” I pulled the pouch and held my breath as I approached and handed her the essences and her collector before backing away. I then continued, “Fourteen essences from the eighteen dead men.”
Castille nodded, “Fourteen of eighteen. A good ratio for how long they were dead. We were very unfortunate only to yield three of seven from yesterday.” She held my eyes, and I sensed her evaluating me. She broke the stare and announced to the men who did not travel with her, “They collapsed part of the sewer, so we could not pursue. They have a very strong air mage with them. We will need to continue searching the city till we find them. We have three days before the enemy surrounds the city. We can not have that air mage inside our walls waiting to strike.”
She turned and walked down the road with her chin high like her shit didn’t stink. The other urine and feces-soaked members followed, and I was glad that I had my own room at the villa.
I took a different path, not wanting to walk in their wake. I headed toward the lower city baths just in case our leaders thought to stop in the upper city baths.
AnnouncementSpecial thanks to my patrons for supporting my writing on Patreon. You keep the words flowing and give excellent feedback.
Seraphim Tier: Kingpin09, Rd Zg, Kompass, Christian Mordal Andersen, SubJef
Long Term Supporters: Silver Beard, Dustin, Brad Anderson, Vlad, Martin Lange, Lucas Rodger, Paul Panzer, Mark Mollegaard, Cody Landis, Exchao, MKL, White Watcher, Adam Sawyer, Jeffrey Iverson, Cody, David Zimmerle, Black_Knight, Shade, Gideon Stern, Louis Lecornet, Jostein Andersen, Jordan, Jared Ference, S, MrX, Brandon, Dom, BlodWedd, CJ, Asibo, Yeraiha, Timothy Felkar, Isaac Wheeler
Chapter 40 Massacre
We ran at the hustling guard’s pace to the upper city’s far side. For some reason, everyone formed up into ranks as we jogged. Wylie loudly asked a question for everyone to hear: “Where were his legionnaire guards?”
Firth grunted, “He should have had at least a dozen. My guess is they are all dead as well.”
Konstantin, leading us, shouted back, “He had fifteen. I checked this morning and warned them of the enemy in the city.”
We turned to a wide street with opulent buildings of white marble highlighted with black granite. We had not patrolled this part of the city, and the polished stone made for an impressive site. Even the road was made from textured gray granite. Regis muttered, “Damn. In my next life, I want to be a Portal Mage.”
“If Janus bestows you that blessing for the life of debauchery you have lived, I might as well not try to be so pious any longer!” Pavel grunted.
“Who is Janus?” I asked no one in particular.
Firth responded, “You don’t have gods in your lands, Eryk? Janus is our god of Rebirth. The god of endings and new beginnings.”
I had heard some old Roman gods worshiped and even passed by a few temples in the cities, but I had never heard people worshiping them openly before. Maybe in a world of magic, their miracles were less important. Even though the guard leading us was sucking wind, we could all talk easily at his slow pace. I asked, “How many gods do you worship in Telhian?”
Firth barked with mirth, “You do not worship the gods. You respect them and ask for favors.”
Wylie added to my knowledge, “There are maybe thirty faces of divinity the First Legion brought with them. But the only true god you will ever see is an ancient dragon delivering its vengeance on a city.” There were murmurs of agreement.
We slowed to a walk as we could see a number of our legion company milling outside one of the residences. There did not appear to be any current threat, as they were just guarding the building and keeping people away. Konstantin went inside, and we talked to the other members.
“It is a blood bath in there. They broke through the wall in the basement,” Lucien said to us.
Orson added, “Foul magic, just ripped the men apart.”
Firth asked seriously, “How many of ours dead?”
“The mage and all of his men, maybe twenty in total when you include his family. But there are so many body parts around it is hard to count,” Orson added.
“Did they kill any of the Bartirdians?” Wylie asked.
Olson nodded. “Eighteen, I think, maybe nineteen. They retreated back into the sewers after they killed the mage.”
Konstantin came outside, “Eryk, you are needed inside.”
I started walking, confused, “Which potion?”
Konstantin shook his head no, and said, “Castille is going into the sewers. Go see her.” I swore in my mind. Every time there was a dangerous mission, I was involved. I would have been better off lugging rocks in a quarry to pay back the farmers. I might have ended up crippled, but at least I would have been alive.
I entered the house and passed the entryway; blood and gore made the floor slick and slippery. I paused at the carnage that covered the once gorgeous polished stone walls and floors. They were not kidding. Bodies were ripped apart at the torso. The site didn’t faze me as much as it would have just a month ago.
I was immune to the metallic smell of blood. The dead eyes of the men still gave me the chills, and I avoided making eye contact. I was waved into the basement and found Adrian, Delmar, and Castille talking by an opening in the wall, emitting a foul odor. Large stones from the wall were strewn on the floor. By the rancid smell, it was definitely an access to the sewers. Castille looked up, and I dreaded what she was going to say.
“Eryk, I need you to harvest the essence from the men here, just the enemies. I do not have time to do it myself. Here,” she handed me her essence collector, and I was confused. Happy would be a better word, as I was not going into the sewers. I turned over the disc that was twice the diameter of mine in my hands. Castille snapped, “Do you not know how to use it?”
Panic welled up. Was this a test? Did she suspect I had taken the essence from the others? I played stupid, “No, I have never used this,” I indicated the device I held. “The only magical item I have ever used was the translation amulet in training.”
Castille studied me for just a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “Were you able to charge the amulet?” I nodded. “It is the same. Just keep the center of the collector between the heart and head, rest it on the body, but keep it level. If you don’t, the formed essence will roll off the disc.”
She did not give any more of an explanation as she went into the opening, followed by Delmar, Adrian, Konstantin, and two members of the city guard. There were three bodies in the basement, and I moved to the first one. He had been wearing fine chain mail, but it had not saved him from a spear to the heart. Not that using a spear inside the confines of a house would have been my first choice.
I laid the disc and was interrupted as Firth came down the stairs, “Did they already head in?”
“Castille was leading them into the sewers,” I pointed at the destroyed wall.
“I will not let them have any fun without me,” Firth grumbled as he made his way to the opening. If Firth thought trudging through other people’s shit was fun, I needed new friends. The other men started moving the bodies of the dead legionnaires and the mage and his family outside. I used the collector on the enemies and ended with one apex strength essence. Three major essences, one each of power, endurance, and quickness. And ten lesser essences that were a mix of strength, constitution, and endurance. I put all of them into a bag. Fourteen of eighteen bodies had given an essence.
I started helping move the bodies. Outside, there was a cart to take them away. Wylie noted dead bodies in a city during a siege spread disease, so we needed to get them buried outside the city before the enemy arrived and surrounded the walls. I noticed Mage Gregor walking toward us on the road with nine of his men at his back, walking in a three-by-three square.
Orson, our company’s other scout, went to talk with him since all our leadership was kneedeep in shit. They were too far away to overhear, and I continued back into the residence to remove more bodies. I asked Wylie, “Do we have to clean up the blood too?”
“No, when Castille returns, she will hire some citizens to do it. The Empire owns this building. The Displacement Mage just gets to live here as part of his extensive compensation,” Wylie said while we carried the top and bottom half of a body outside on a bed sheet. The residence was extremely lavish from what I had seen in my time so far in the Telhian Empire. The furniture was exotic wood, the library was filled with leather-bound books, every room had a woven rug, and the bedrooms looked almost modern to my eye. Of course, everything was marred by blood and body parts.
When we got outside on this trip, Mage Gregor was getting animated, and from the wisps of the conversation, he did not sound happy that Mage Castille had traveled into the sewers to search for the assassins. I think he was mostly worried about being the only mage left to defend the city from the approaching army.
On the next trip, we went upstairs and grabbed the last body. I recognized the man, and it was the third judge in the Tribunal I attended when I returned with the remains of Durandus’ men. “It looked like he was killed defending his family,” Wylie muttered. I noticed the blood stains of bodies already removed by others. We loaded him onto a bed sheet and carried him outside with the others.
Four of Gregor’s legionaries went into the basement as we brought the mage’s body to the cart. Gregor left with the rest of his men. I still had Castille’s essence collector on my back and was curious to know what the mage would yield. But it seemed Castille’s policy was only to harvest the enemy, not our own. I asked Orson, who was cursing up a storm after Mage Gregor left, “Orson, should I harvest all the bodies for essence? Castille only told me to collect the enemy.”
A highly irritated Orson replied, “Castille believes if you take the essence from a person, they are weaker when they are reborn into their next life. If you want to give your essence to your family when you die, just let her know. She will arrange it if she can,” Orson replied hastily before going into the residence and following Gregor’s men. Twelve men of the company stood covered in blood while civilians took the carts away.
There was some uncertainty, so I offered, “How about six of us remain here, and the rest go to the villa to eat and clean up? When you are fed and clean, come back and relieve us.”
I picked the men I knew to return first. Brutus, Mateo, Felix, Pavel, Regis, and Wylie. It felt awkward being the least experienced person in the group to give an order—or maybe it was a suggestion. They followed it, and we were left. I told three men, Donte, Benito, and Linus to go to the basement and stand guard over the passage.
I remained outside with two legionaries I had not talked much with, Blaze and Caius. Blaze was the best archer in the company, and Caius was not too far behind. Caius was also deadly accurate with a pilum out to fifty paces. We stood in the sun while brushing away flies, trying to land and lay eggs on our blood-soaked uniforms.
Caius asked, “Did you actually kill five men to Konstantin’s two?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice. I had learned that Konstantin was probably the best raw fighter in the company.
“No, just four. The last one killed herself,” I replied, trying to sound modest.
Blaze injected, “She was so dazzled by your skill, she just jumped on your blade? Maybe we should put you at the front of an army, and you can conquer the world for the Empire, the great Satis Galdio!” He said in good-natured teasing, using the nickname I had been saddled with.
I countered, “She was the last one standing and did not want to be captured,” I said softly, reflecting that I did not think I would be brave enough to sacrifice myself in such a manner. I had to respect the dwarf woman.
Silence reigned for a while until Mateo and Felix came strolling down the road. I released Blaze and Caius to return to the villa. I guess I was somehow in charge. Brutus, Pavel, and Regis returned next, and I sent them to the basement. Wylie came a half hour later, eating a large bun sold on carts in the city. He handed me one from inside his armor with a big smile. I gave him a curt thank you as I left to be the last one to return to the villa.
It was late evening, and I thought I deserved to take a side trip to the baths. I had only walked maybe fifty yards when a shout came from behind me, “Castille’s back.” I froze mid-step and slowly returned.
As they emerged from below, we all kept our distance as the smell was horrendous. “Where is everyone?” Castille asked.
I answered from a safe distance, “I sent half the men back to wash and eat. When they returned, the others went. I was the last one.” I pulled the pouch and held my breath as I approached and handed her the essences and her collector before backing away. I then continued, “Fourteen essences from the eighteen dead men.”
Castille nodded, “Fourteen of eighteen. A good ratio for how long they were dead. We were very unfortunate only to yield three of seven from yesterday.” She held my eyes, and I sensed her evaluating me. She broke the stare and announced to the men who did not travel with her, “They collapsed part of the sewer, so we could not pursue. They have a very strong air mage with them. We will need to continue searching the city till we find them. We have three days before the enemy surrounds the city. We can not have that air mage inside our walls waiting to strike.”
She turned and walked down the road with her chin high like her shit didn’t stink. The other urine and feces-soaked members followed, and I was glad that I had my own room at the villa.
I took a different path, not wanting to walk in their wake. I headed toward the lower city baths just in case our leaders thought to stop in the upper city baths.
AnnouncementSpecial thanks to my patrons for supporting my writing on Patreon. You keep the words flowing and give excellent feedback.
Seraphim Tier: Kingpin09, Rd Zg, Kompass, Christian Mordal Andersen, SubJef
Long Term Supporters: Silver Beard, Dustin, Brad Anderson, Vlad, Martin Lange, Lucas Rodger, Paul Panzer, Mark Mollegaard, Cody Landis, Exchao, MKL, White Watcher, Adam Sawyer, Jeffrey Iverson, Cody, David Zimmerle, Black_Knight, Shade, Gideon Stern, Louis Lecornet, Jostein Andersen, Jordan, Jared Ference, S, MrX, Brandon, Dom, BlodWedd, CJ, Asibo, Yeraiha, Timothy Felkar, Isaac Wheeler
