The Eventide Child (9 page)

The tomb stood foreboding in the distance.

She had to hand it to her ancestor, the tomb was one of the more magnificent structures she had ever lain her eyes upon. Dilapidated and sand worn marble columns lead the way to the massive tomb, the exterior of which had been carved from the face of a mountain. Large statues in the olden style depicted soldiers guarding the dark entrance. It was a testament to his greatness, and to the might of the Empire at its time.

“So this is it?” she asked, head craning to one side. Titus didn’t look so impressed as he fastened his helmet.

“It would seem so,” Samar replied. Titus slowly broke away from her side as he moved to join the ranks of their small troop. The tomb was said to be cursed, guarded by abominations most foul. She had heard the stories from the legionnaires though she thought nothing of it. And yet now it gave her pause. It was oddly silent save the cry of a distant bird and the rustling of the troops. This must have been how Caesar felt when he ordered his men to cross the Rubicon. It was a point of no return and she was staring it right in the face. Go home? Would the men even agree to such?

Samar gave a warm smile. Titus clutched his spear in one hand and his shield ready in the other. The men nervously shifted as if they had expected a grand battle to erupt on the open field. She lifted her hand. “Advance.” The words rolled from her lips before she could give it further thought. “And so the die is cast,” she uttered. Samar gave her a quizzical look

“What?” he asked.

“Ancient history, cousin,” she replied with a dismissive wave.

The sound of armor clattering drowned the silence. Alexandra walked among their number with her hand rested carefully atop the hilt of her blade. Cass had taught her how to defend herself, and she had decided that she would not order men to die, lest she be not willing to do the same. There would be no running this time. She would stand and fight and she would either win or she would die, but she would not stand idle by while others died for her. Never again.

Their column marched head long into the unknown. There were murmurs among the soldiers around her as they expressed their fear to one another, their comrades bolstering their nerve as they approached ever closer to the pyramid. It stretched just barely into the sky though the entrance belied the secret that the bulwark of the lie underground, the pyramid atop serving mainly as monument and nothing more. Her ancestor had been particularly taken by the Egyptians, it seemed, burying himself in the way of Pharaohs.

“We’ve come too far to let a curse unman you so,” she said. The soldier beside her looked rather surprised as he turned to face her. She picked up her pace, steadily advancing toward the front of the column, outpacing the awe stricken soldiers as she took the lead. “Glory and riches await those bold enough to take them!” she shouted over the clamor of armor, lifting a torch aloft as Titus struck the flint and lit it ablaze. The entrance to the tomb was large, towering far taller than any human being. The silent stone defenders peered out over the harsh desert. Samar moved to her left, Titus her right as the two men grabbed hold of a wooden wheel that controlled the massive stone door. They mustered all their strength, pushing the wheel until a terrible creaking moan emanated as the stone was hoisted into the air. A cool breeze surged from the darkness offering only a brief respite from the desert heat. She was the first one to push beyond the dark threshold.

The light of the torch illuminated the otherwise dark chamber, the air musty and old as she glanced around. Cursed, they had said. So far it seemed nothing but dusty and old. Cobwebs lay heavy upon the smooth stone walls, a massive staircase descending down into the depths beneath the mountain where the bones of her ancestor and his legion were said to lie. Though dust covered the walls, a swipe of her hand revealed a carved inscription in a language she did not understand.

“It is a warning, cousin,” Samar spoke as he squinted at the inscription, his hand coming over to brush more dust away as he lit his own torch from hers. “It warns of a great reckoning, that darkness will swallow the whole of the world if this tomb is disturbed. It promises calamity and death,” he said, though not providing a literal translation. She found the entire thing a bit strange, though it did not deter her.

“What do you say, dare we venture below?” She waved her torch about, casting glances to the rest of the men as they lit the braziers and torches to provide lighting.

“I didn’t come all this way for nuthin,’” Titus finally replied. “We’ve got fame and fortune to collect, ain’t that right boys?” He slammed his spear against his shield only to be met with a resonating war cry from his men as their weapons echoed in response.

“Guess that answers my question.” Alexandra mused as she turned to face Samar. He wore a grim look though he did not object to proceeding. He was a superstitious lot, it seemed, and his face made Alexandra wonder if he thought they should divert from their present course. She waited, but he did not speak. Their eyes met briefly and she gave a jerk of her head toward the stairs. He didn’t reply and she turned around, holding her torch aloft as she took that first daring step. The stairs led to the deepest darkness she had ever seen, and once again she felt the familiar tickle at the back of her head, that voice that yelled ‘jump’ when one stands at a ledge, and this time she did not hesitate as she pushed onward.

The men behind her lit torches and placed them in the sconces that lined the staircase. It was at least five men wide, large enough that a full legion could march down the stairs without pause. There were few turns, dusty walls and the ever descending staircase that brought them lower and lower until finally she stepped onto a smoothed stone pathway, the stairs giving way to a massive cavern beneath the mountain. It was vast and the air cold and stagnant.

“Extraordinary,” Samar finally spoke, catching her attention as he did so.

“It’s so enormous,” Titus murmured as their formation came to a halt. The pathway extended onward into the bleak darkness, though it did seem that it tapered off to a bridge that stretched across a chasm. Flanking them on either side were standing formations of marble soldiers, the makings of a great, lost legion.

“They’re just stone...” Alexandra murmured as she slowly stepped over to one of the statues, brushing her hand gently across one of the figures. They were clad in proper equipment, mind, but the bodies beneath were stone. An entire legion, memorialized for all eternity.

“By Jupiter’s beard. They’re not just stone.” Titus grunted, his voice grim as he shook his head and stepped back. “They’re bodies. The entire legion. They sacrificed an entire ... legion.” She’d never heard his voice so distraught. She watched as he slowly moved between the rows of interred men, offered as eternal protectors to their Emperor. Had they gone willingly? Was this the loyalty her family had inspired? Or was it something else? Something more nefarious? Whatever the reason, there were over a thousand head of men entombed as silent protectors to the bones of her ancestors.

“I have seen this before,” Samar spoke, his voice hushed as the men gave nervous glances. “It is the product of old magic,” he explained as she listened intently. The group suddenly pulled together closer, as rocks fell loose from a distant wall. “They were living soldiers. They likely did not know what their priest was doing when they escorted the Emperor’s body into the tomb. They were all sacrificed. To what purpose, I know not.”

“The place is cursed!” A soldier suddenly announced with a shrill voice.

“Quiet down, men!” Titus barked as he slammed his spear once again upon his shield, the sound echoing through the cavern as the legionnaires regained their nerve.

She had to admire Titus and his ability to rein them in. Alexandra gave a small sigh as her gloved hand wrapped around the hilt of her blade, the other keeping her torch held steady. “I’m not afraid.” She stepped forward. The men followed her lead silently, forming a narrow column as they marched onward, past the gauntlet of soldiers frozen in time. None dared pry their remains for the valuables. The legionnaires honored the lives of their comrades too much to pilfer or disrupt their corpses.

Soon she found herself upon the mouth of the bridge, staring across the chasm where a section of the bridge had collapsed and tumbled into the abyss below on one side, though leaving the bridge passable. It wasn’t surprising, given how old the structure was, though the rest of its form did not show signs of age and weathering. Below, the sound of liquid stirring echoed upward, though none could say for certain what it was exactly. A subterranean lake? Perhaps. She didn’t dare glance over the side to look, no, she kept marching forward until she cleared the chasm and was standing upon firm ground once more. There was less ground on one side of the chasm than the other, the far side having only a narrow ledge along the sides of the stone walls, the bridge leading right toward a massive opening that led to the deepest layers of the tomb.

“We’re nearing our destination, Princess,” Titus spoke up, his hand knocking against the solid wall of the cavern.

“This leads the burial chamber.” She gestured toward the two lone guardians that stood vigil on either side of the entrance. “Probably the sentries that were standing watch over the entrance while the Emperor was being laid to rest,” Titus added as he brushed the dust from the armor of one. Despite their age, they had been remarkably well preserved. It almost seemed a pity to disturb the tomb any further, though she admired the lengths that had been taken to enshrine her ancestor in a land, which he had apparently held in such high esteem. Granted, it also seemed that keeping the Regalia secure was also motivation. None but a true son of the Empire was intended to ever come so far, to stand in the shadow of greatness. She was no true son, but she would have to suffice. She needed to suffice, or else the Empire was doomed to be cast into the annuls of history and forgotten.

“Leave a detail to guard the door,” she commanded. “We’ll take a small number inward. I am not sure what we will find beyond this passage. It would be better to travel with few.” Alexandra reasoned as she turned her attention toward the soldiers accompanying her, giving a small nod. “Choose five, Titus, to accompany us.”

Titus nodded as he began to sort the men out, her attention turning now to Samar. “You don’t have to come further, Samar,” She began, but before she could finish the tall man had lifted his hand up and gestured for her silence.

“I will stand faithfully by your side.” His kind words reached her ears, that warm smile of his disarming her briefly. “If we die, we shall die together, cousin!”

Ah, there it was again. His devotion to her was almost unnerving, “I have no intention of dying, Samar.” She clapped the man on the back suddenly before allowing her gloved hand to rest near the hilt of her blade. It didn’t take but five more minutes for Titus to sort who he chose to escort her. She had not heard the familiar voice since Cass had fallen. There was plenty she had to ask of it, yet it remained quiet still.

“If we’ve not returned in two hours, I want you men to take whatever spoils you can, and leave,” she instructed the soldiers. The centurion gave her a salute as he acknowledged her order and the others snapped to their posts. She cast one final glance around. Titus’ looked serious and grim, his fingers clutching the shaft of his spear. He was on full alert, and that brought her comfort. To Samar her eyes next fell, his smiling disposition having not changed a bit even as he now clutched a crooked dagger between his long fingers. Samar seemed anxious, giddy even, at the prospect of penetrating deeper into the tomb.

“Forward, then, friends.” She broke the silence, taking the first step past that threshold. “To glory.” Her voiced echoed through the chamber as Titus grunted and followed behind her. The passageway forced them into a single file, the walls arched and lined with sconces. She was careful to light the torches where they still stood, providing some illumination as they pushed deeper and deeper until the sconces ran out, though the tunnel continued. The chilled air nipped at her face and her leathers kept her body warm.

Something isn’t right.
The voice had returned and it hadn’t been wrong. Even she felt it. A creeping sensation, an unnerve in the atmosphere that went far beyond the norm for such a situation. There was something else. Something different. A sound. There was a sound! She couldn’t hear it at first, but when she paused in the darkness and closed her eyes, she could almost focus upon it. A distant, beating sound. Rhythmic. Hypnotic, even. It pulsed through the darkness, growing louder and louder the deeper they marched. None of the others seemed to hear the sound as she did, that terrible beating. She knew what it was. It was a sound she was all too familiar with. It was a heart. A pulsing, beating, heart. The tunnel ended and she stepped into a large circular chamber. A gust snuffed her torch out, a single mysterious ray of light shining from above illuminated the sarcophagus. The light was artificial in nature, though she could not discern its source. Magic, most likely. The beat thumped louder. Closer. Something in the darkness begged her to draw closer, pulling at her senses.

“Something’s not right,” she finally spoke. Titus and Samar moving to flank her position. The ground rumbled, shaking terribly. She looked beyond the light, beyond the corpse of her ancestor and saw it.

A pair of monstrous eyes, staring at them from the darkness. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed upon those pupils. “Titus!” she called, her hand falling to the hilt of her blade as she clutched it protectively. “Look up!” She pointed above the pillar of light to the silhouette of the titanic creature in the distance. The legionnaire did as was expected of him, forcing his way past her person with his men as they immediately formed a defensive line to protect her.