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Bloodsworn Ch. 31
🕑 Added 2024-11-20 00:13:12 +0000 UTC31.
Erak and Nevia’s squad worked their way back towards the Armory and Erak got to see the devastation wrought by their attack. Corpses piled high as supplementary Imperials pulled and stacked the dead, securing every piece of functional weaponry or armor that the demons had. Their blood sacrifice fueled siege weapons were being drug into the Armory and Erak had to frown at that.
There was no honor in those foul contraptions. It was better stored inside of the Armory than outside of its walls though. There at least the demons could not reclaim or repair them to use against the Imperials.
The surviving civilians, those who had been captives and those who had hidden in the rubble, raced toward the stained walls of the Armory and the scant protection it offered. Erak’s battle high was fading, his heart slowing and the weariness of the long day settling. He was staring down a large number of announcements in his screen, but had little desire to deal with them.
Nevia and her people trudged behind him, their feet nearly dragging in their exhaustion. All ten of them were still alive, having used the cover the heavy tanks provided to their advantage.
The wide walls of the Armory were scorched and blackened, the once pristine white walls filled with cracks and carbon scoring, smoke already staining them gray. Erak walked through them, only his own grim determination keeping his legs pumping as he entered the bustling hive of the outer courtyard.
Hundreds if not thousands of civilians now sat or stood around in catatonic stupors. An equal amount were screaming and crying as the strain of the day broke free and expressed itself. Erak shouldered past them all, most sliding away from his large figure as if he was a demon himself.
“Lord Bloodsworn, you are…quite a mess. I would advise cleaning your gear and self as soon as possible,” Nevia whispered up to him. Erak glanced down at his own arm and found she was right. He was caked in sticky, drying blood. Scraps of flesh stuck to his shield and both sword and spear needed to be cleansed as soon as possible.
He looked up towards the scarred behemoth in the sky. In the darkening light of the hidden sun, the great warship was nothing more than a shadow in the smoke. The trailing lattice work of the floating docks, skeletal and menacing. Shapes flickered far up there, Hellspawn and whatever else had crawled free of their portals.
“Erak! You live! Not that I doubted you’d survive,what with the heavy plate armor you're wearing, but it’s good to see my suspicions confirmed!” Prince Sammus said. His own clothing was dirty and there was a smear of ash and blood across his forehead while a stained bandage was over one arm.
“I have great news. We have taken many of the energy cores from the golem’s and fed them to Dull. He’s been able to awaken several dormant systems, including out longer range communications. Erak. We have made contact with the palace.”
Erak shoved by the Prince, heading toward the small building that housed the stairwell that led down into the hill. Nevia shouted as did Sammus, but Erak was moving faster than any of them could easily keep up, long legs eating up ground as he raced away.
He slammed through the doorway, choked full of people who got out of his way, and then began to descend. The heavy tread of his boots on the stairs was lost in the general chaos of the underground bunker, dozens of bodies moving up and down and shouting. Erak found the right exit and headed toward the war room that they’d had their brief meeting in so long ago.
Foy was there, haggard and gray as she leaned against a table. Dull floated to the side, a twisting blueprint of the Armory. Other officers clustered around Foy, but they leapt away as Erak came to a skidding halt at the sight of the projection in the center of the table.
Lady Clara Torpin, the personal Handmaid to their Queen. A young woman with harsh cheekbones and a scar that ran the width of her forehead. Pale gray eyes that were hooded and sunken with exhaustion as she clenched a bloody sword in one hand.
“ERAK! Is that you!” Her voice was tinny and far away and Erak quickly grabbed at his helm, eager to rip it free. His gauntlets came next, freeing his fingers as he looked at one of the sworn guardians of the Queen. He flexed his hands a few times and then began to speak the Silent Tongue.
“Queen?”
“The Queen is fine, Erak. The Palace has many safeguards, most not known to the public and a few that weren’t known to the nobility. She’s leading the defenses on the West Wing as we speak. Erak we have a problem though. We are cut off, completely surrounded on all sides of the hill. This is the first time we’ve managed any type of contact outside of the Palace’s outer walls.”
“Orders?” Erak asked.
Lady Torpin straightened, a sad look crossing her face. It was a look Erak knew. The look of someone ordering the death of a friend.
“The portal above the Iron Cathedral. That creature is what is keeping us from breaking free. Every time one of the gates opens it throws that fire down upon the troops. Two companies of the Royal Guard have died trying to get outside of the gates already. General Foy said you had an idea of fighting it, but Erak. When we retreated, Prince Almonkar and his personal guard rode to kill it. He had a company of a hundred strong and they were well equipped.”
“He was the third prince,” Sammus whispered behind him. Erak had been so caught up in his discussion with Lady Torpin he hadn’t heard the young prince arrive.
“Prince Sammus, it heartens us that you live and continue to serve.” Clara turned back to Erak.
“Kill that creature Erak and close the portal. The scholars believe that is where the majority of these invaders are coming from. Now that you have freed yourself, General Foy, you are to rally every man, woman, and child who can wield a weapon. After Erak closes the rift, you will attack through the city and relieve the siege on the East Wing. Princess Aloria holds, but they have taken heavy losses.”
“Is she available to speak?” Erak asked. Clara’s face fell further and she shook her head.
“I am sorry, Erak. The battle goes on and twice she has ridden out to rally the men. She has a company of Royal Guard with her along with her personal guard from the North. She is safe as any out here. I can not risk pulling her away while she is needed.”
“My duty is my honor.” Erak stood, grabbing his helm and gauntlets, then his weapons. New fire burned in his gut as he turned and walked out of the bunker. There was no time to rest, not when his Oaths were to be fulfilled.
