The journey was peaceful, yet was exceedingly tense, the calm before the storm proving once more to be the most unbearable part of the battle. No ambush fell upon them, despite Tiberius’s fear of it being their downfall; but this only served to multiply his fear of taking another step. The Insidiators, Cato as well, were all eager for a fight, thinking it to be like any other raid. Lucullus looked upon his village, as it came into view, with longing and hatred. He had finally returned home, but it was filled with traitors and deceivers. Now being mere minutes from potentially facing Tullius, every thought of him made the muscles in Lucullus’s arms twitch; his breaths became sharper. He gripped his sword as if he was strangling a man; he gripped his shield in like manner.
Tiberius looked over at Lucullus, concern sweeping across his face. “You alright, lad?”
Lucullus looked down. “I’m fine. I just really need to do this. Tullius will receive the punishment due for his treachery.”
Tiberius shook his head. “This is something you must face. But I hope that, when you do, you will choose the straight path, and turn away from the path of desolation. I say it from much experience.”
Lucullus met Tiberius’s gaze, and nodded, both men determined and stern.
Shortly after, the battle had commenced. Unus ordered his men in a fashion that was typical to his raids: the first wave targeted the farms on the outskirts, except for Lucullus’s out of respect for him; the next wave, and any other successive waves pushed deeper into the village. While all of this was in motion, Lucullus, Tiberius, and Cato, pushed into the village, following Lucullus’s lead. The initial fighting against the guards, of whom Lucullus no longer had any love for due to their part in his arrest, was nothing beyond what anyone expected. A fight was had, but the guards were driven back or killed. Lucullus remained toward the front of any battle, feeling a twisted satisfaction for each guard he fought.
As they pushed into the heart of the village, they were met with a surprise attack from Pontius and his men. As the armies split off into many little skirmishes in the village streets, Lucullus was met with the sight of Pontius. The two men locked eyes, and both looked at the other with venom and bitterness. They became engulfed in a duel, exchanging light slashes between shield bashes. It was a display of a flurry of enraged swings and shouting.
“So we finally meet face-to-face again, pond scum!”
“And so it seems, wicked dragon!”
He cracked a wicked smile. “It’s a shame your mother will lose her last child.”
As if Lucullus couldn’t hold more rage, more room was made for pure hatred within him. He nearly snarled at Pontius as he charged, shouting the whole way. Pontius readied his shield, and prepared for a parry, but the force from Lucullus’s strike knocked him off-balance, and unbearable pain shot through his whole body as Lucullus stomped his knee. Pontius crashed into the dirt, unable to stand.
Tiberius and Unus rushed over, ready to strike Pontius down as a gust of wind blew them back along with Lucullus. Pontius began to stand up, though he was slow to rise, the fact that he was on his feet almost intimidated Lucullus and the others.
“Don’t worry, Lucullus. Tiberius and I will hold off this beast. You go take care of business.”
Lucullus nodded, and darted off toward his fields. In the midst, he found Tullius running toward his house. “Tullius, you serpent, stop where you stand!”
Tullius spun around, and could barely contain his shock, among other emotions. “L-Lucullus… I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”
Lucullus gritted his teeth, and squeezed tight on his sword. “The knife you twisted into my back was more painful than anything I’ve suffered to get here. And I shall put you to the sword for your crimes!”
Tullius readied his sword and shield. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have sided with the enemy.” Lucullus charged forward, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Despite being worn down by all the fighting, he moved with great speed and aggression.
The duel between them was nearly a stalemate. Both of them were able to counter the other, and almost predict the next strike. Their eyes locked as much as their swords and shields did. Lucullus maintained a constant glare, mixed with the occasional scornful expression as he went for a strike. Tullius matched the glares, but occasionally let a tear slip through the tough mask he struggled to maintain. The duel lasted almost as long as the battle itself. But even as Lucullus’s energy was failing him, his strikes never ceased, and wore down Tullius’s energy; but at the same time, it also wore down his own strength.
At the peak of the fighting, just as Lucullus and his allies seemed to have their enemies on the run, they found themselves suddenly surrounded by another army; this one was much larger, and easily overwhelmed the Insidiators. The professional soldiers were far above such brigands. The sudden influx of cavalry turned the tide in an instant, and decimated the Insidiators’ forces.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Tiberius tried his hardest to fight Pontius, but with Unus being diverted away to defend against the new threat, he was left to face Pontius alone. He held his own, but despite Pontius having his knee kicked in by Lucullus, the fight was tough. Pontius almost seemed to have shook off the injury, but Tiberius could never explain it. Pontius tired himself with his aggressive attacks, and Tiberius dodged and waited for the right moment to strike. Cato eventually joined in to give Tiberius some relief, but it was a fatal error. Pontius, clever and tricky, took advantage of Cato’s overconfidence, and ran him through, piercing his heart through his back. Tiberius tried to strike at Pontius as he pulled his sword out of Cato, but the strike was nothing more than a light blow. He dodged, and slashed Tiberius across the face, and soon disappeared.
With the help of a horseman, Tullius was able to best Lucullus in battle. But as he laid on the ground like a cornered animal, Tullius spared him, and instead moved to arrest him once he was knocked out. Unus and Tiberius tried to regroup with the rest of the Insidiators, but the horsemen swept through the village, killing or arresting as they were ordered.
As Lucullus regained consciousness, he was greeted with the smug and sinister sight of Sabina mounted on a horse. He jerked and recoiled, trying to break free, but it was useless.
Sabina cackled, having seen Lucullus for the first time. “The fools are captured. Men, make way for Castle Avarus. We have some new guests.”
Lucullus shouted toward the skies. His face twitched as his breathing became more labored and aggressive.
Sabina looked back at him. “No need to act so uncivilized. I don’t tolerate bad manners in my court.” She pulled on the reins, and steered her horse away from Lucullus. “Load the prisoner carts. We must make haste.” She looked over at Tullius. “Come by the castle again. A servant as loyal as you deserves a great reward and many honors for such deeds. You fought these savages, and bested the largest beast among them.” She gave a satisfied smile as she ordered her horse forward.
Lucullus glared at Tullius as he was thrown into the cart. The two never broke eye contact as the carts rolled forward until they could no longer see the white in the other’s eyes.
Pontius rode by and nodded at Tullius. “Well done, captain. Go help your village. We’ll take care of it from here.”
Disarmed and in binds, Lucullus slumped in the cart. As he watched his village vanish over the horizon, he turned away his gaze and closed his eyes; a tear rolled down his face. Once he was a little more composed, he looked around in the cart and saw Tiberius and Unus. Unus appeared to be passed out, but Tiberius was still lucid. The two exchanged glances; at least they wouldn’t be in the freezing mines. Lucullus looked up to the sky; the sun’s rays could faintly be seen through the clouds, which threatened one last wintry storm. Recalling the prayer, he began to recite it to himself.
As the caravan reached the crossroads of two major routes, one that went north to south, and the other that went east to west, they were stopped by the Royal Guard. At the forefront was a man dressed in the finest armor, and adorned with a violet cape.
Sabina moved in front of her guards. “What is the meaning of this? I have important prisoners, dangerous ones, that must be transported to be put on trial immediately.”
“Then this is beyond your jurisdiction, Archduchess.” He motioned for his men to seize the carts. “I am Captain Amadeus of the Royal Guard. And if you have such dangerous criminals, then I am obliged to take them to stand trial before the royal court, not yours.”
She scoffed. “They’re from a prison in my territory. It makes them my responsibility. Now, let my caravan pass.”
He shook his head. “Nice try, Archduchess. But I’m simply doing my job.”
Pontius rode up to the front. “Isn’t your job protecting the king? Why aren’t you watching him instead of a crossroads miles from Multa?”
He rolled his eyes. “And why aren’t you keeping your prisoners contained? Isn’t being a prison warden your job?”
Pontius reached for his sword, but Sabina glared back at him.
“Besides, making sure criminals get their due punishment ensures the king’s safety. You may be the son of an Archduchess, but you have no authority here, certainly none over me.” He turned back to Sabina. “Now, if you don’t want things to get uncivil, you’ll hand over the prisoners. You did a fine job of apprehending them, even if it was out of line, but we can handle it from here.”
Disgust crept across Sabina’s face, but she eventually relented, and relinquished the carts to Amadeus.
Tiberius breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over to Lucullus, who had already fallen asleep. He looked up to the sky, thinking of only one thing.
Lucullus woke up to a cold dark cell. Am I in the Wall? He looked around frantically, but realized he was in some other prison, the likes of which he did not recognize. It looked well-maintained, and it was somewhat clean, nothing like the dingy cells he was used to. He tried to recall how he got there, and saw flashes of the battle in his head. Each flash of his fight with Tullius brought him pain and anger, but the anger left as quick as it entered; he was too tired from all the fighting to muster any more energy for his emotions. He attempted to pray, but even that was more demanding than he had the energy for.
As he tried to get comfortable and sleep, he was stirred from his attempted rest by a gust of wind blowing through his cell. This seems familiar. Soon, he was unable to see beyond the bars. The cell door sounded like it was opening, but nothing moved. Finally. But instead of the chill he had experienced in the Avarus Wall, he felt a nearly unbearable heat radiate from near the door. He began to sweat profusely; he never experienced such heat before. A silhouette appeared in front of the door, and it glowed with a brightness like the sun, yet not totally blinding.
“You’ve returned.” He knelt on the ground. “I could’ve used your help.”
A face almost appeared in the silhouette as it moved toward him. “But you have received so much already, Lucullus.”