Lord of Ashes

FORTY-THREE

The Khurtas were flinging themselves against the wooden barricade but the defences had held so far. Regulus roared his defiance as another wave came charging through the open gateway. Janto stood silent by his side, armour drenched in blood, axes dripping gore despite the rain washing them all from head to toe. Steam plumed with every breath in the cold night, but Regulus could not feel the chill. His labours kept him hot, as though he were standing on the plain, the sun high above him, warming him to the quick.

As the Khurtas charged towards them the sound was deafening. Every wave came as though it were the first, as though thousands before them hadn’t already come rushing to be slain. With every attack, though, the defenders dwindled — Janto and Regulus were resolute but around them the Coldlander numbers had grown fewer and fewer. To Regulus’ right stood a red warrior, the plates of his armour intertwined with a pattern of thorns. Regulus did not know his name, had not even spoken a word to him, but already he admired the man’s fury in battle. The rest he did not remember, so enrapt was he in his work. And it was bloody work indeed. Work he was born for.

His black blade struck down as a Khurta raced up the bodies of his kinsmen piled against the barricade. The head split, the body fell but there were more behind. There were always more. Janto took a head, then another, silent in his black armour. Regulus had long since lost his helm, but part of him was glad of it. Let the Khurtas come, let them see his face, let them watch his fury as he slaughtered them by the dozen.

This time the Khurtic attack seemed to end as quickly as it had begun. Regulus watched, staying on his guard, as the survivors of the assault retreated.

Someone laughed further along the barricade as the defenders started to relax, thinking they had won yet another victory. Janto and the red-clad knight to either side of Regulus still stood vigilant. It was obvious the Khurtas were far from beaten.

There was fire from beyond the gate. Regulus could see it through the rain, bright burning brands raised high. A bellow rang out in the night, deep and resonant from the belly of a beast. The sound of stampeding hooves built to a rumble before the barricade beneath began to shake.

‘Steel yourselves!’ yelled the red knight.

Janto roared. His cry was met with another bellow as a herd of massive creatures rushed through the open gateway. They resembled huge beasts from the plains of Equ’un, but these were no docile grazing animals — they had tusks, curved and sharpened to points, their hide furred, their hooves clawed and churning up the soft ground beneath their feet.

There was a cry of woe as someone fled in the face of such terror, but Regulus stepped forward, eyes fixed on the charging herd.

The beasts trampled the bodies of the Khurtas strewn about the entranceway, their eyes wide in anger and terror as they were driven on by the fires behind them. The first one smashed into the barricade, throwing wood and stone and men all about.

Archers ran to the fore, firing randomly at the beasts, but the arrows barely seemed to slow them. Regulus stood firm as one of the monsters charged his way. It snorted its anger, vapour shooting from its wide nostrils as Regulus and Janto crouched low, bracing themselves against the impact. The beast hit the barricade, rocking it back but not splitting it apart. With a growl of rage the creature backed away, shaking its head before rushing in again.

Janto roared, leaping from the top of the barricade and plunging an axe into its hide. Regulus was not to be outdone, bounding forward, his sword skewering the beast’s neck.

As it fell, both Zatani rolled clear. Regulus barely had time to dodge the charge of another creature before it bowled into the barricade, smashing its way through. When he found his feet, Janto was standing beside him, breath still coming in deep pants from behind his helmet, rain tamping off his armour.

The sound of the Khurtas rushing towards the gate in the wake of their beasts was like the distant drum of a waterfall crashing down. Regulus ignored it; he was too intent on Janto’s blue eyes regarding him from within that dark helm.

Regulus nodded. He knew the Sho’tana warrior had made his decision. There was no loyalty left between them. Despite the enemies that would pour through the undefended gate, Janto was to have his day.

‘Now?’ Regulus said.

‘What better time?’ Janto replied.

Regulus roared, leaping forward, his black blade slashing left to right. Janto was forced to back away, his axes barely coming up in time to block the onslaught.

The Khurtas burst through the gate. All around them the Coldlanders were shouting to form up and defend the way, but Regulus only saw Janto.

The Sho’tana parried a swing of Regulus’ sword, locking the blade between his axes. They stared at one another as the Khurtas swarmed through the gate.

‘We will die here,’ said Regulus.

‘One of us will,’ Janto replied, shoving Regulus back and spinning to hack down a charging Khurta. Regulus’ sword spun twice in quick succession, eviscerating two of the savages, and he barely had time to turn and parry Janto’s axe as it struck in once more.

From the corner of his eye he could see the defenders were being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers in the Khurtic horde, but Regulus had more immediate dangers to consider.

‘This must wait,’ he said. ‘You’ll see us both dead.’

‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’ Janto said. ‘A glorious end? Like the one you gifted to each of the warriors who followed you from Equ’un?’

Regulus felt a shot of anger, growling as he pushed Janto back. They both stood and faced one another as the battle raged around them.

‘They each made their choice. They each died as a warrior of the Gor’tana should.’

‘And yet you still live,’ Janto’s voice sounded hollow and cold from within his helm, like a ghost’s. ‘But you will sacrifice no more to your cause.’

He made to race forward, but before he could even bring his axes to bear there was a howl from within the city, beyond what remained of the barricade. It was no human voice, no mortal could have made such a sound, and it almost turned the blood in Regulus’ veins to ice.

Janto seemed to forget his attack, staring to the south from where the noise had come. Likewise the battle around them froze in time when that first howl was followed by a second.

As the warring factions stood transfixed, the barricade burst apart. At first Regulus thought the animals of the Khurtas were attacking again, but these were no beasts of burden.

Though these things bore the bodies of men they were twisted and misshapen, their limbs elongated and ending in talons to rival any Aeslanti. Their heads were likewise huge, their lower jaws distended to house their massive fangs. Black eyes were sunken deep into each head, staring out balefully, full of hate and a thirst for slaughter.

The creatures fell upon the Khurtas with a ravenous hunger, though many of the defenders were likewise caught in the onslaught. They howled as they slew, tearing heads and arms from shoulders, rending with claws, biting the faces off their victims. Regulus stared in awe at the level of carnage until a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see one of the creatures bearing down, slaver and blood dripping from a black maw.

But Regulus did not falter. If this was to be his end he would meet it as a son of the Gor’tana.

With a roar he leapt forward, black blade sweeping in. The creature moved with preternatural speed, ducking his blade and batting him aside as though he were made of straw. Regulus landed hard, rolling with the impact and rising to his feet, just as the beast was on him. His sword came up ready, impaling the fiend’s chest. It screamed at him as black blood spewed from the wound. Regulus could not resist, bellowing back from the bottom of his lungs as the creature took hold of his wrist, pulling itself towards him along the blade, ready to take a bite with those infernal jaws.

In a plume of dark cruor its head spun from its body. Janto stood behind the beast, his twin axes still dripping. Regulus stumbled back as the beast fell, his sword still buried in its chest, and Janto came on, glaring down from behind his helm. It seemed Regulus’ saviour had only rescued him to satisfy his own need for blood.

Regulus stood tall, ready for the final blow that would end his life.

With a hellish scream, two more of the fiendish beasts bowled into Janto. He raised an axe, hacking into one of them as the second tore his breastplate asunder with its talons. The Sho’tana roared as he was dragged away into the melee, his axes rising and falling in a desperate flurry as the monsters ripped with their claws and bit into the black steel plate that encased him.

With Janto gone, Regulus stumbled away from the battle, looking around for his sword; though he knew that in the fray it was hopeless he would find it. The defenders of Steelhaven were in full rout now, and the hellish creatures that had attacked seemed to be concentrating their fury on the Khurtas.

As he moved away from the slaughter Regulus caught sight of red armour through the dark and rain. The knight who had stood so resolute beside him was prone, struggling to crawl away from the battle.

Without a word Regulus helped him up. If he were not to gain glory in battle this day, then he could at least help a fallen warrior. As the battle raged on, Regulus guided the knight to safety.