A banner depicting scales with a sword on one end and an eye on the other fluttered grimly from the head of the Vermillion Company’s column as it marched past a meadow on its way towards the village. Honeybees still flew about, collecting pollen from the few remaining wildflowers before ferrying pollen back to the colourfully painted wooden beehives that were arrayed along both sides of the road for soon, building up their stores to tide them over winter.
Artek’s skin crawled as he marched in step along the others, and it wasn’t because of the bees. The Inquisition had a reputation for dispensing harsh justice for the slightest infraction of Heaven’s Laws and was rightly feared throughout the land. Now, unwittingly, he had become one of them. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d said anything blasphemous since falling in with the Company. He also felt glad for the mask, for he wasn’t sure if he could look any of his friends in the eye if he was seen marching under the Inquisition’s banner.
An ominous buzz began to grow louder, distracting Artek from his thoughts. He looked up and frowned. The bees in the meadow had all returned to their hive. Perhaps they too feared the arrival of Heaven’s police. His hackles stood on end when heard whispers carried on the wind, almost but not quite drowned out by the buzzing of the bees.
“What’s that chanting?” he asked out loud.
It sounded like hundreds of voices droning on in a strange language. The words they were speaking, though foul, sounded familiar, and it felt to Artek like he was on the cusp of understanding what was being said. Somehow, the ominous red light that obscured his eyes from outside observers didn’t affect his vision as he scanned the tall grass around the beehives for the source of the chanting.
“Company halt!” Ereldred ordered.
As the Company came to a stop, the elf ran over to Artek. “What was that?”
“Don’t you hear that?” Artek asked as he continued to search for the source. “It’s getting louder.”
So was the buzzing of the bees. It had sounded like they were warning the intruders off initially, but it had now grown into an angry roar and that was increasing in volume. The chanting had increased in volume as well. Then, Artek saw them. Two peasant women crouched behind the beehives furthest from the road. Now that he knew what to look for, he quickly found a third on the opposite side of the road.
“There!” he cried as he pointed at the pair.
As the chanting and the buzzing reached a crescendo, Artek smelled rotten eggs. Meanwhile, the three women raised the daggers they had been holding high over their heads. Artek’s eyes widened in shock as they plunged them into their hearts without hesitation. As they slumped to the ground, the roofs of the beehives flew off. Clouds of honeybees rose from them and coalesced into three swarms.
We’re under attack!” he cried. “Steel your faith, men!”
The men of the Vermillion Company watched in fascinated horror as one of the swarms formed into a writhing, pulsating rune that turned Artek’s stomach to behold. In the corner of his eye, he saw the lights in the others’ masks blaze bright yellow.
“Avert your gaze!” Ereldred cried. “The Enemy is attacking!”
Artek’s mind screamed that the elf was correct, but despite his revulsion, he could not tear his gaze from the rune. Then, the screaming began. They were bloodcurdling, inhuman screams. It was the jolt he needed to avert his eyes as he looked in the direction of the screams. The second and third swarms of bees were enveloping the men of the Vermillion Company. The bees dispersed as men swung their weapons desperately, and then coalesced into a form that resembled a person. While in the latter form, and with great dexterity, the form plucked the masks from the men’s heads with its hands before dispersing once again.
The unmasked men who saw the rune began to bleed from their eyes. They screamed. One gouged his eyes out while several others fell on their own swords. Three meanwhile turned their swords on their fellows, sowing chaos amongst the ranks before being cut down.
“Erini, fire!” Ereldred cried, struggling to be heard over the din.
Artek glanced at the young woman, whose attention was on the revolting rune hovering overhead. He punched her on the arm.
“Use fire!” he cried.
Erini raised her staff and mouthed an incantation. When nothing happened, she looked at her staff helplessly.
“Doesn’t fire come from the red gem?” Artek asked.
As she rushed to swap the gems out, a swarm arrived close by and coalesced into the shape of a man. Artek cursed and swung his sword. The swarm dispersed, and all he cut was air. Moving swiftly, it coalesced behind him and as he whirled around, he felt bees on his face. His mask came loose, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he swung.
“Down!” Erini cried.
With his eyes firmly shut, Artek hurled himself to the ground just as a wave of heat singed his hood. He heard something scream and hiss overhead but kept his face planted firmly in the dirt, terrified of what horrors he might see if he looked up.
After a few moments, he felt something attempting to lift his head off the ground and swung his sword.
“I’m trying to get your mask back on, you fool!” he heard Erini gasp.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Artek held out his hand and felt his mask placed in it. Gratefully, he affixed it to his face and leapt to his feet. The rune had vanished from the sky, but another swarm was quickly taking its place. Meanwhile, the remaining swarm flew high into the sky before swooping down towards Erini, who had just begun another chant.
Artek placed himself between Erini and the swarm and raised his sword. His first instinct was to swing and attempt to cut as many individual bees down as he could, but something told him to stop and wait. The bees flew around him and began to coalesce behind him. Artek spun around and thought he saw a focal point where a man’s heart would be and aimed his swing at that.
As his sword struck the focal point, Artek felt a surge of strength in his body. A mouth formed in the bee creature’s head and began to expel acrid black smoke into the sky. Seeing that the creature was doomed, Erini shifted her aim to the swarm that had just formed another rune in the sky. A jet of flame erupted from her staff, engulfing the rune. The swarm hissed and shrieked as flaming bees plummeted to the ground.
Then, abruptly, the smell of sulphur was gone. The light in the eyes of the masks went from a blazing yellow back to a dull red. All that remained was burning bees and the bodies of the slain. In the blink of an eye, the Vermillion Company had lost half their number. Men looked at one another in a daze as they tried to comprehend the horror they had just witnessed. Then, they became aware of a scuffle.
The man who had gouged his eyes out was writhing on the ground as three of his companions pinned him down.
“I see it all! I see it all!” he shrieked over and over.
“Captain, what should we do?” one of the men pinning him down asked. The despair in his voice was clear.
They watched as Ereldred walked over to him, muttered a few words, and then ran his sword through the man’s heart.
“May this poor soul find peace in the Ever After,” he said sadly.
The man who had been pinning him down bowed his head. He began to shudder as he wept for his friend. Stediun came over and put a compassionate hand on the man’s shoulder. “He died valiantly, fighting in Heaven’s name.”
“What in Heaven’s name were they?” someone else breathed.
“Lesser demons,” Ereldred replied. “The Peace Breakers have conjured a horror from the Ages past. Steel faith men.”
“Do you think there will be more of them, Captain?” Stediun asked. The old man’s face was taut and ashen.
The elf nodded gravely. “Lesser demons always come in fours.”
Fear gripped the remains of the Company, and a man began to wail in despair while others murmured amongst themselves. Artek swallowed a curse. Here were people who reputedly had no qualms terrorising towns acting like terrified little girls.
“Get a hold of yourselves, men!” Stediun roared. “You are proud soldiers of Heaven who are fighting against Its worst enemies. We could not have wished for a worthier cause.”
“You performed well, Erini,” Ereldred remarked as he walked over. “I hope you are ready for more. I fear that their leader is waiting for us in the village.”
“I don’t understand,” Artek blurted, earning himself a dirty look from Erini. “Why didn’t they unleash these things on Lord Filern’s men? We wouldn’t have stood a chance against such horrors.”
Ereldred looked at the village and frowned. “Unleashing them then would have caught the Church and the Inquisition’s attention. Perhaps they have decided they have nothing to lose now that we are here. Count yourself lucky.”
“Oh, I do,” Artek replied and suppressed a shudder as he glanced at the eyeless man’s body. That could so easily have been his fate.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve fought these, is it, Captain?” Erini enquired.
“No, it isn’t,” Ereldred replied simply before walking off. “Lieutenant, we move out at once.”
“But what about the fallen?” he protested.
“Our job isn’t done,” the elf replied curtly. “They will have to wait.”
In complete silence, the survivors of the Vermillion Company formed a protective ring with Erini and Artek at the heart before continuing slowly into town. As they marched, Artek ensured that his mask was securely attached and took a deep breath. The euphoria from his kill was subsiding and only the horror of what he had witnessed remained. Now, they were marching in for more, and they had lost half their number.
“Protect Lady Erini with your lives, men,” Stediun ordered. “She and the captain are our keys to victory.”
As the men closed ranks around the young mage, Artek could tell that a few were weeping openly as they marched in on the village.
“Men, I know that you are frightened,” came Ereldred’s melodious voice from the head of the formation. “But I lived through Ages where such horrors and worse were commonplace. The Peace Breakers seek to bring those days back. It is our sacred duty to stop them. You fight for your families and for your people.”
“In Heaven’s name!” Stediun roared.
“We keep God’s Peace!” the Company roared back.
With their spirits raised they entered the village. A lone man stood barring the path into the village. However, what shook Artek to his core was what lay behind him in the village square. There, the bloodied bodies of men, women and children were laid out in a shape that resembled the foul rune the bees had made and the square itself was slick with their blood. The light of their masks blazed yellow once again.
“I don’t understand,” a man nearby breathed. “There is no sign of struggle on their bodies.”
“That is because they saw the light and sacrificed themselves for the greater good,” the man’s voice was inhumanly deep and guttural, and his eyes were black coals. “The Imprisoned Ones cannot use the blood of the unwilling.”
“He speaks the truth, men!” Ereldred cried to shocked gasps. “This is why their poison is so dangerous. It will drive people to commit unimaginable blasphemies.”
The man’s face split into an unnaturally broad and thin smile. “Ereldred the Ancient. This trap has caught a great prize indeed.”
“It will all be in vain, heretic,” Ereldred replied coolly. “We will you and all your efforts will have been for naught.”
“Not for nought, Oppressor,” the man hissed. “Our work here is already done. Soon, all sheep will have their eyes opened, whether they want to or not.”
“Your work isn’t done,” Ereldred declared. “You have not found the Sword.”
Artek gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. He’d completely forgotten that the Peace Breakers had been after it.
“We have waited thousands of years for it,” the man replied. “We can wait a little longer.”
“I grow weary of your bluster,” Ereldred said. “Release your meat puppet and show yourself. Let us get this farce over with.”
The man’s smile broadened. He took a step towards the Company. Everyone in the formation save for Stediun and Ereldred involuntarily took a step back, leaving their Captain and Lieutenant exposed. The creature broke into a rumbling laugh that reverberated through their chests.
“Their faith is weak,” he warned. “They cannot defeat us. Soon, we will not need sacrifices to enter your realm.”
The man abruptly crumpled to the ground. Behind him, blood began to boil, dissolving the flesh from the bodies. Flesh mixed with blood, creating a macabre stew that began was drawn to the middle of the square by some unholy power. Men wailed in despair and revulsion as a grotesque, bloated creature rose from the ooze. It looked like a poor facsimile of a human that stood almost thirty feet tall. Its exposed sinews writhed like worms as the flesh of the slain villagers slid into place.
“A flesh golem,” Ereldred spat in disgust.