The Spirit of Revenge (3 page)

Suddenly Silas dashed past him and crashed down on his enemies with a murderous scream.

He swung his Sitar full force into the Arzecs. Bodies flew as the huge weapon slammed into them and sent them flying with every swing. The vicious blades disemboweled its victims, ripping entrails from bodies in an inexorable bloodbath.

He thrust the bloody weapon forward and ripped the head off an Arzec before throwing it at a passing Arzec, knocking it off its feet as Silas laughed.

Cain ran up to his side and the two of them thrust their weapons into the chest of an Arzec. “Have you seen Aaron?” Cain shouted to his friend over the din of battle.

“No, why?” Silas replied before spinning and bringing his Sitar over the head of an Arzec, crushing its skull with a loud crack and burst of blood.

Cain left his friend and tore through his enemies, searching the battlefield for Aaron. “Aaron!” He called for him, but his shout died quickly in the chaos of battle. He looked around the battlefield through the blurs of struggling combatants to the road that led to the southern half of the town.

“I’ll go without him then…” He muttered as an Arzec ran toward him, axe raised. He ducked swiftly and swung his sword at the Arzec’s leg, hewing it off in a spray of blood. He grabbed its shield as it fell to the ground and he bashed its face in, blood spewing across the sand as he threw it off its foot.

He quickly ran towards the south end of the fighting, taking no care to avoid trampling the Arzec he had just slain. He fought his way out of the battle and stumbled out onto the road moments later.

He stood there a moment and took in the sudden flare of cool air. He looked down the road towards the town square, barely visible through the sea of daub buildings.

He sprinted away from the fighting and ran towards the square. Dirt kicked up from his heels, his breathing labored from the fighting.

As he reached the courtyard, he noticed the ruddy glow of a fire. Suddenly a scream broke out and echoed through the still night.

Cain cursed under his breath and sprinted towards the town square. He reached the outer buildings at last and hid in their shadow for a moment. He gazed out from behind the wall and his eyes lit up in horror.

The citizens of Andaurel had been waiting for an armed escort to lead them safely to the sanctity of Dun Ara. However, the few soldiers Grend could spare lay slaughtered in the town square.

Arzecs dashed across the court, butchering the defenseless civilians. Fire consumed their wagons and belongings and the entire court was now ablaze.

The screams of women and children pierced the air as Arzecs chased them down and brought them to their knees. They massacred the innocent, hacking off limbs and heads and sinking their fangs into every inch of flesh.

In the confusion, one woman tried to escape down the north road towards the fight. An Arzec noticed her and jumped on her back, thrusting its teeth into her neck. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed near Cain.

He pressed himself against the wall as the Arzec stood up from her corpse, blood running down its chin.

Cain raised his sword and stepped forward to kill it before he was pulled back into the shadows.

The Arzec raised its sword and brought it over the woman’s neck, severing her spine with a sickening crunch of bone as if to make sure she was properly dead. It looked around for a moment and licked its bloodied lips before returning to the town square. Cain wrenched free and spun around to see who had stopped him.

Aaron shook his head. He pointed to the town square and threw a finger to his lips in an indication of silence. Cain spoke as loudly as he dared. “Eileen’s in there! We’ve got to help them!”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” He pulled his saber from his belt and ran to the opposite side of the building. They gazed around the wall and saw the same chaotic scene.

“I thought Grend already sent them to Dun Ara?” Aaron whispered to his friend.

“I don’t care, Eileen’s somewhere in there, I’m going in…” He left the safety of the shadows and sprinted towards the town square, screaming to draw the Arzecs’ attention.

The Arzecs turned from their victims and faced their newest prey. They raised their weapons and bared their fangs at the prospect of fresh blood.

Cain and Aaron charged over the fallen bodies and past the flames, colliding head on into the mass of Arzecs. A ring of steel broke out as they tackled through the wall of enemies and threw themselves into the waiting arms of death.

With the well-timed arrival of their saviors, the few remaining townspeople slipped away and faded off into the night with nothing but their blood-soaked clothes.

Cain pulled his sword from the last of the Arzecs and wiped the blade on his fauld. He looked around at the carnage, breathing heavy with exertion. Hundreds of bodies littered the courtyard, all victims to the Arzec’s brutality.

Then, through the fire and smoke, he saw his wife. She lay limp in the sand, blood pooled around her. Cain let out a frantic cry and rushed toward her.

She was dead, still as stone in her own blood. Her clothes were mere shreds on her bloodied body. A massive gash was hewn across her stomach, spilt entrails spread out before her. And from her severed stomach, a baby’s hand hung limp. Blood ran along its arm and dripped down its tiny fingers.

Cain crumpled beside his dead wife and child. He stared forward with disbelief, refusing to accept what he was seeing. He bent over his wife and brushed her blood-drenched hair.

“Eileen…” He muttered as tears brimmed in his eyes. “Eileen.” He looked over the ghastly scene and closed his eyes at the sight of his wife’s entrails. He gently turned her over and wrapped a finger around his child’s hand. Tears poured down his face.

“Why was it you who had to die? I deserve this, not you!” Cain cradled his head in his hands, the blood of his family staining his face. He wept uncontrollably, cursing the skies to end his sorrow. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he pounded the earth with his fists, weeping and bellowing with anger.

Aaron approached him and rested a hand on his friend’s heaving shoulder. “The Arzecs…there’s more of them.” Aaron turned and raised his saber as a wall of Arzecs slowly approached.

Cain remained at his wife’s side, cradling her head as he wept. “Cain…” Aaron pleaded as he backed up slowly. “They’re coming…help me!”

Cain rose to his feet and turned to face a wall of one hundred Arzecs, every one of them grinning at his sorrow.

Cain picked his sword off the ground and wiped the blood and tears from his face. “They killed my wife…my child…” He suddenly shot forward and sprinted straight at the Arzecs. “I’ll kill every last one of them!”

With a vengeful cry, he lurched forward and tossed his sword, the blade impaling itself through the face of an Arzec. He continued forward and tackled into it, ripping his sword from its body before letting loose his rage.

He jumped sideways, hewing the head off an Arzec before plunging his sword through the chest of another. He pulled it out and stabbed it into the gut of another Arzec, wrenching the shield from its arm.

He spun around and slammed the steel shield into an Arzec before crashing it over the face of another, tossing bodies about him with every powerful swing. He tossed the shield into the tide of Arzecs and grabbed his sword from a body, slaughtering everything within his reach.

He roared with hate as his sword flew like a blur around him, blood, limbs, and bodies flying. Anger burned unbridled in his heart with every thought of his dead wife and child.

He had promised his wife only hours before that he would put aside the sword and live at her side forever in happiness. But now that happiness had been taken from him, and vengeance kindled deep within. He fought on with a mindless ferocity, all reason thrown aside for bitter hatred.

Yet, despite his efforts, the two men were soon surrounded and found themselves standing back to back amid an encircling wall of Arzecs. Their enemies formed a large circle around them and stood in silence, weapons raised to finish them off.

Time seemed to freeze as they stared into the eyes of their foes. The sixty pairs of amber eyes seemed to bore into Cain and Aaron as they stood heaving from the exertion of the fight, sweat trickling down their brows, the bodies of the fallen littering the ground about their feet.

The circle parted and a large Arzec walked through the gap. He stood a head taller than the others and several times as muscular. His skin was pure ebony, teeth a dull brown and eyes a bloody crimson. He carried an enormous scimitar in one hand and his body bulged beneath a burdensome set of black and scarlet armor.

A blood red tattoo of a snake wound its way across nearly all of his dark flesh. The serpent’s head was curved over the Arzec’s brow, its grimacing fangs stretched over his face as the body wound its way down the back of his neck and spine, the tail finally ending at his closed palm.

The enormous Arzec stepped out from the circle and faced his prey. “You’re a bold one,” he spoke in a hoarse, throaty voice.

Cain stared up into his bloodied eyes. “You killed my family…” He raised his weapon at him and glared down its edge, seething with hate.

The Arzec twirled his scimitar and turned his gaze back to the two men. He suddenly lurched forward and charged towards his opponents.

The tremendous force of the scimitar hit Cain’s sword like a hammer, sending him stumbling back in an explosion of sparks. Before he could recover from the blow, the captain descended upon him.

Cain spun and swung his blade. The captain jumped around his opponent and grabbed Cain’s arm as his weapon sailed by. The Arzec hurled him through the air, sending him crashing into the dirt, weapon flying from his hands.

Aaron ran towards the captain and jumped into the air, saber raised to strike down his foe. The Arzec threw his scimitar up before his face. Aaron’s sword crashed into the Arzec’s and this time it was the captain’s turn to stumble back.

Aaron and the captain exchanged a fierce maelstrom of steel, weapons flying in a flurry of sparks, their swords shimmering in the roar of the enclosing flames.

Aaron ducked under a swing to the head and rolled to the side as the Arzec pulled his weapon back for a second strike. The sword sailed overhead as Aaron fell on his back and threw himself backwards before flipping up and landing smoothly on his feet.

The captain charged forward and swung his sword into his foe. Aaron’s saber was nearly torn from his hands, the massive scimitar pinning his blade to the ground. The Arzec threw his body sideways and sent his armored boot colliding into Aaron’s chest with tremendous force.

Aaron was thrown back several feet, a cry of pain on his lips as he rolled to a stop in the sand.

Suddenly several Arzecs jumped from the circle and threw themselves at the downed men.

“No!” The captain let out a fierce bellow as he swung his sword into the masses, lobbing off several heads. “They’re mine!” His soldiers cowered in fear, immediately disinclined to his wrath.

The men rose to their feet, swords raised warily before them. The captain stepped back, eyeing them searchingly. The two men looked at each other and charged their foe.

The Arzec stood firm and raised his sword, effortlessly deflecting their attacks. He pulled his sword from the lock and flicked it side to side. With inhuman speed, he tossed their swords about and battered both men into the earth.

He knocked Aaron’s sword away and swung his scimitar, slamming the side of it into Aaron’s face. The blow sent Aaron tumbling back, falling heavily to the ground before rolling to a stop motionless.

Cain watched his friend sail across the court, stricken by the strength of his opponent. The Arzec lunged at him and unleashed a fearsome barrage. Cain parried several repeated blows, slowly faltering under his ruthless advance.

Cain blocked a strike to his side, sliding over the sand before jumping into the air towards his foe. He spun and threw out his leg, kicking the Arzec in the side of the skull. The captain staggered under the force of the blow as Cain landed beside him and threw his sword down for a fatal strike.

The captain jumped back and grabbed the weapon. His bare hand wrapped around the blade, pulling weapon and wielder forward before thrusting his armored knee into Cain’s gut. He lurched forward in pain as the Arzec then picked him up by his tunic and tossed him to the ground.

“This is a true battle,” the captain muttered, a malevolent gleam in his deathly eyes. “Only, a sad thing…you, wanted dead. Taste the last bitter dregs of your life; fear the wrath that is Abaddon.”

Cain rose painfully to his feet, Aaron unconscious yards away. Cain turned to look at his opponent, shifting nervously as the Arzec spoke. A gust of wind blew across the court and flames danced about them.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyeing the captain cautiously.

“Abaddon is searching for Cain Taran. You are him, are you not?” The captain blinked, his red eyes bloody beacons in the night.

“Why me? I don’t understand…”

The Arzec shook his head. “I don’t have time for your questions. We are here to kill you…embrace your fate, Cain Taran.”

Cain raised his sword, the bloody steel glistening in the firelight. “Then back your words and end this!”

The Arzec stepped toward the burning wreckage of a wagon and kicked a woman’s body aside.

With an unflinching hand, he plunged his arm into the fires and pulled out an enormous length of wood from the bottom of the ashes. He stabbed his scimitar into the sand and grabbed the flaming timber with both hands. He turned and faced Cain, his massive frame silhouetted against the inferno.

Cain rushed toward Aaron and shook his friend fervently, struggling to wake him. Aaron remained limp in his arms. Cain gave up and rose to his feet, weapon held uselessly before him.

The Arzec charged forward and effortlessly swung the flaming timber, forcing Cain to jump back to avoid it. The captain swung again, narrowly missing his target. He continued throwing it about as Cain darted back and forth, each swing of the flaming weapon narrowly brushing past him.