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The Chronicles of Orn Book I: CHOSEN
Chapter 39. The Battle of Disipica

Chapter 39. The Battle of Disipica

Thayn assembled his huscarls as the core group, and had gathered a further sixty Holvelan sailors. He had instructed Jarl Sigtrin to put to sea for his and the two ladies’ safety. Thayn then returned to stand before the assembled men. He said to them, “My fellow Halder warriors, it is now time. We will now march on the arena of this city, and we will take back our man from the clutches of those who took him from us! We must make sure these people never again forget the consequences of violating our sovereignty. We will exact upon them a very steep price and ensure that they know the price of taking from us. With me, men! FORWARD!”

They moved through the street, away from the docks, in a tight formation. As they neared the bridge across the Savoria River, Thayn moved to the head of the column. As they marched, someone shouted, “Look above the buildings! There’s a fire!” As Thayn looked around, he began seeing scattered plumes of smoke at different points around the city. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He gave the order, “Men, at the double!”

As they were nearing the other side, a crowd of people had gathered, blocking the path. They looked to be a mixture of men in legionary uniforms and street thugs. The Haldermen drew their axes and lifted their shields as they slowed to a measured pace, preparing for the fight.

The thing that struck Thayn was the smiles on the faces blocking their path. They were the exact same smiles on the faces of the men who attacked Darius’ villa.

ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ

Gereld was on a Holvelan ship. Thayn suggested it would be best he go offshore until they had the docks secured. As he cast his eyes over the city, he saw smoke rising from various quarters, gradually building and getting thicker. He realised all at once the city had been put to the torch.

He felt before he saw the presence that approached from behind. He didn’t take his eyes off the city when he said, “Hello Briga.”

“Gereld. I am here to help you. Again, they have violated the laws. Although I cannot act directly, I will lend you my strength. We need to put out these fires. Your friends can handle the human element, but the fire will make this fight unmanageable.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I need you to make it rain.” She placed her slender hands gently on the sides of his head as he focused on reaching out to pull vapour from the sea’s surface and clouds from the surrounding area. He coalesced them above the city, and then he focused on condensing the clouds to where they began forming liquid droplets that eventually fell to the ground.

Lightning flashed through the static created by the clouds crashing into each other as the droplets increased in size and volume, becoming a deluge over the entire city. And then, in the distance, there was an inhuman shriek that seemed to come from everywhere.

Gereld was sweating profusely. He shuddered, took a breath, and sank to his knees. The storm they had built, strong enough to rain down on the city for some time to come. Briga leaned over him, allowing her tears to fall onto his head as she said, “Thank you, Gereld. You truly have embodied my blessing. Of all I have gifted, you are among those that I am proudest of.” And then she was gone.

ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ

The rain was putting out the fires. She shrieked into the sky and flailed about in a rage, and then she stopped and looked to the end of the street. It was her! “You! You did this! Your time is over! This world is for us! You have had your time. You need to leave! This world is ours now!”

Briga responded, “No. You had your world. You consumed it. You consume everything until it is nothing but the void. I will not let you have this world. My people will stop you. Our love will defeat your hatred. Our full hearts will defeat your emptiness and endless hunger. You do not belong here.”

“I will feel love,” she purred as she grinned fiendishly. “My heart will fill when I consume you and all that you cherish!”

She started gathering darkness about her. She would pull this God-thing into the void where her family could delight in consuming her. However, something in the rain kept dissipating the darkness she was summoning as fast as she could pull it to her. The smile slid from her face as the realisation came to her. The rain. !t was not water. It was the Goddess’ tears!

She stared at the figure with intense hatred as impotent rage filled her own breast. Then she noticed the Goddess began glowing, a radiance that was soft at first but throbbing and increasing in intensity. The rain had thinned out to a drizzle, and finally it stopped. She had to get out of here! She surrounded herself in a dark, scudding mist, and slipped between planes of existence to return to the sigil on the cavern floor.

Briga sighed. She recognised the body that Malliphina had taken. It was one of her priestesses. A priestess of Agrippa. The citizens of Disipica offered many prayers to Agrippa as the rains fell, and she felt the surge in strength it gave her. But she still felt keenly the displacement of the soul of her priestess.

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Her only solace was the fact the monsters who did this had to murder the poor girl before Malliphina could take her body. Somehow she would find out who was responsible for this atrocity, and there would be a reckoning. But for now, she had to return. She was getting close to stepping over the limits of her intervention.

The frustration of having to wait for violations before she could act was showing clearly on her face. ‘Why will the universe not suspend the rules until these disgusting beings are eradicated?’ Does the universe not realise these things will be the end of it all? The portal opened in the doorway closest to her, and she walked through, head bowed, her frustration writ large in the set of her shoulders as she left the street.

ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ

Orn and his family were through the door leading out of the pit. Inside was bedlam. Slaves were rebelling, seizing their chance at freedom by attacking the guards and trainers. A group of guards ran towards Orn, who, at the last second, ducked down and with his shield, tossed the first guard over his head and thrust his sword into the chest of the second. Vylder smashed the man Orn had tossed, slamming him into the ground after he folded around the iron ball at the tip of his mace.

To free his blade, Orn kicked the guard that he stabbed off of his sword as a third guard swung his sword at him, which Orn caught on his shield. As he deflected the blow, Orn thrust his shield edge forward into the guard’s shoulder, sidestepped him, and sliced his leg off at the knee.

Two other guards had run past Orn on either side of him, only to be dispatched by Venna’s sword and Mswali’s spear. The Avdlaks and their new friend moved through the corridor like a landslide, smashing down and crushing everything in their path.

Vylder recognised Flavius, who looked their way.

His eyes went wide like dinner plates and he squealed in panic as he saw Vylder pointing his mace at him.

Vylder said to him, “It is later,” and started walking towards him.

Flavius fled, and Vylder made to pursue, but he felt a hand grabbing his arm. Vylder looked back to see Erik holding him.

“No Father. Let it go. We’re a family again. That’s all that matters.”

Vylder nodded, and they moved on, looking for the exit. Vylder said, “We should go in the direction he went because he would most likely be going to the exit.”

Orn parried another sword strike, stepped in, and struck the fight trainer with his sword pommel, kicked him back, and then followed through with a backhand sword swipe. Orn stepped over him, and Erik smashed his chest in with his father’s hammer.

The resistance was thinning, and they could see the way out. Then suddenly, a large group of thugs, soldiers, and a mob of ordinary people had blocked the exit. All of them had the same glint in their eyes, the same chilling grin.

Vylder moved to the front, flanked by Venna and Orn, their shields slightly overlapping, covering Mswali and Erik. They moved cautiously along the corridor toward the mob. Vylder said to his family, “Hold, hold…hold…now!”

They surged forward into the mob, causing the first few rows to fall backward into those behind them. The sea of maniacally smiling faces did not change expression. If they struck, knocked down, killed them, still they smiled.

Footing was precarious on the slick cobblestones of the street. They were slick from the rain and freshly spilled blood. Vylder’s powerful charge, with his family behind him, thrust them deep into the crowd that had blocked their escape from the arena. The rain itself revitalised the Avdlaks as they launched into the crowd gathered before the arena entrance. People in the mob were tripping over themselves, trying to regain their footing, and flailing around in confusion, but still they smiled.

Orn had sheathed his sword and was using his shield with both hands to batter the crowd. Because of the sheer weight of numbers, Orn and his family’s progress had slowed to a crawl, and they were in danger of being swarmed. Someone had knocked Venna to the ground, so Erik reached down to grab her when he was struck in the head and collapsed on top of her.

Orn cried out, “Erik,” and the moment he took his eyes off of the mob, they took him to the ground and began stomping on him. His thoughts turned to his family as he thought, is this how it ends?

And then it stopped. The rain ended, and the crowd stood still. The smiles had slid off their faces as they looked around, confused, as though they had collectively woken up from a sleepwalk. Vylder had picked Erik and Venna up off the ground, and Mswali helped Orn get to his feet. They paused and caught their breath for a moment.

“Is everyone all right?” Venna asked breathlessly.

“More or less,” Erik panted.

“We should keep moving, while these people are confused,” Mswali suggested.

“I am inclined to agree,” added Orn. And so they headed towards the river bridge.

ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ

The battle had started. The thugs and soldiers, disorganised, threw themselves at the shield wall Thayn had his Haldermen form into. They hadn’t killed many, as Thayn had ordered his men to use the backs of their axes. He recognised the smiles and sensed something was off. Some of the enemy had fallen into the river and disappeared beneath the surface. Unfortunately, but Thayn could not help them.

The rain had come down hard, and it seemed to have put out all the fires. But mixing with the blood that had pooled at their feet had made their footing precarious. It was easing now, but then, something else happened.

The faces of the people attacking them changed. The smiles disappeared to be replaced by a look of confusion, and they stopped attacking. Some of those in the river began crying out for help, and some soldiers, now suddenly aware again, moved to help them.

The Haldermen looked at each other in confusion, but Thayn knew they couldn’t waste time figuring this out. He gave the order, “Onward, men! To the arena!”

The Haldermen moved on. The Nevans who were attacking them, it seemed, had no recollection of attacking. As the Haldermen moved on, the Nevan crowd melted out of their way. The hostile intent from earlier had completely gone from them.

As they approached the arena, Thayn spotted them. “Venna! Over here!”

The Avdlak family moved over to him. “We need to get out of here. It will take some time for order to be restored in the city. I think we should get to the ships,” a deep voice said to Thayn.

Thayn looked up at the man who spoke. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Vylder Avdlak.”

“Ah, nice to meet you too, whoever you are. We can do the whole greeting thing later. We need to move before the Legions show up in force.”

“Let’s go men! To the boats!”