Indenuel somehow needed to vomit more than ever and was also too terrified to. “What? How many?”
Tolomon’s eyes darted around, then looked out the other window. “At least forty.”
“How did so many get into the city?” He tried not to be embarrassed at how bad his voice shook.
Tolomon said nothing. He didn’t need to. The rumors were there. An Oraminian spy could have helped sneak them in. Tolomon looked at Indenuel, the battle-ready individual completely different from his bodyguard. “Listen closely. Protocol has been put into place. The driver and horse are dead, as are the guards at the next checkpoint. It will alert the military at the training grounds, and they will come as fast as possible.” Tolomon looked through the slits of the windows. “They are not attacking the bystanders; they are here for you. They have a short span of time to get you before the King’s militia will be on them.” He paused, moving the shield up as more arrows pinged against it. “You stay here. Keep calm. I will make quick work of these men, and hopefully have enough time to sweep the streets before the militia gets here.”
Indenuel did little more than nod before Tolomon threw open the door. He, with all his prowess, could not take forty Kiamese soldiers by himself, but the King’s Militia would come. They had to. He just had to distract them long enough for the militia to get here.
With the initial shock over, he started to hear the things he never wanted to. Children screaming in terror as he heard swords clanging in the background. Indenuel closed his eyes, covering his mouth to keep his breathing steady as he stayed on the floor, trying to remain calm. The children were fine, they had to be fine. Kiam was only coming after him. Not the people of the city. Just him.
Soldiers threw themselves against the carriage, trying to rock it. Indenuel gasped, scooting away from the edge before someone threw open the door and grabbed his foot. He gasped, hoping it was Tolomon, but it wasn’t. The grey eyes were unmistakable. It was his first time seeing a man with such a color of eyes, or rather a lack of color. It filled him with terror. The man yanked Indenuel out of the carriage. He gasped before whacking his head hard against the stone street Tolomon praised so highly moments before. Indenuel pulled out his dagger and sliced the man’s hand, who let him go with a shout in Kiamese. More hands grabbed him from under the carriage, pulling him away from the battle Tolomon was having.
“Tolomon!” Indenuel screamed as he grabbed the wheel of the carriage to keep the men from pulling him to the other side. He didn’t know if Tolomon heard. The man he’d cut rammed his foot against his fingers and he lost his grip, sliding under the carriage to the other side. Indenuel wrestled out of their grip, pulling his sword out and swiping at whoever tried to get at him. There were about fifteen Kiamese soldiers on this side of the carriage, but he tried not to let that terrify him. He took out his sword and threw himself into basic stance, trying to shake off the dizziness of cracking his head against the road. He already felt the blood trickling from a wound near his hairline.
A Kiam soldier shouted something in Kiamese, and three men in the front brought out crossbows, pointing them right at Indenuel’s chest. His shoulders sagged.
“Well shit,” he mumbled to himself. What was the point of training with a sword when they forgot to give him a damn shield?
Three daggers came from nowhere, and the three crossbowmen dropped to the ground. Tolomon appeared, catching two of the loaded crossbows in the air and shot them straight into the eyes of the Kiam. He dropped the crossbows and picked up the third from the ground, shooting another man in the eye before he pulled out his sword and slit the throat of another Kiam. All of that in less than four heartbeats. Indenuel backed away toward the carriage, surprised he could follow Tolomon’s movements. Indenuel kept his sword out, trying to protect himself. Kiamese soldiers focused on Tolomon, trying to bring him down. He was fast and brutal, skewering two at a time with his sword, using his shield to break another man’s face. He saw a man put something on his dagger before moving far too quickly toward Tolomon, shouting something in Kiamese. Tolomon was too busy with four other soldiers as the man raised the dagger to stab him.
“No!” Instinctually Indenuel reached out, and a branch wrapped around the man’s wrist, keeping the dagger in place. The man looked up, struggling against the branch. Tolomon dropped the four other soldiers before whipping around and stabbing the man. He paused, then looked up to see the branch. His eyes then shot toward Indenuel, who still had his hand out to keep the branch around the man’s wrist. He dropped it, and the branch let go as the man clattered to the ground. Tolomon’s face dropped just enough for him to see the friend behind the fighter. The message was clear. Indenuel did something wrong, and they would be talking about this later.
More Kiamese soldiers joined the other side of the carriage, hollering and screaming. The fighter returned, and Tolomon ran against them. He killed them left and right, but it still wasn’t enough.
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“The military will be here soon! Get out of here!” Tolomon shouted.
Indenuel breathed heavily, knowing he had to run. He promised Tolomon he would. His legs felt stiff as he came closer to the carriage, but a Kiam soldier appeared, sword ready, pointed at Indenuel. The hilt became sweaty in Indenuel’s palm as he pointed it toward the soldier in basic stance.
Ignore the insecurities. You are the Warrior. This is not the final battle. You’re going to live.
The Kiamese soldier came down hard, and he almost lost his hold of it. He gritted his teeth and threw the soldier off before going in with a jab.
Remember your training. That’s what’s going to save you.
Metal clanged against metal as Indenuel counted every heartbeat to gage how long he stayed alive. He was actually doing it. He was protecting himself. Sure, it was just one Kiam soldier, but he was holding his own. One less soldier Tolomon had to worry about.
He disarmed the soldier and was far more surprised about it than the other man. Which also meant the man reacted faster, punching him in the gut. Indenuel grunted, then covered his mouth. The food he had ignored for so long, the ache of overeating, it came back with a force. He couldn’t stop and vomited on the soldier. Whatever that man expected, it wasn’t that. Indenuel winced, though he felt a lot better now.
The soldier gasped as a sword poked through his belly. Indenuel took a few steps back as the soldier fell to reveal Captain Luiz. “Take as many prisoners as you can!” he shouted. Indenuel looked around as the King’s militia began to descend on the Kiamese soldiers. Captain Luiz looked down at the vomit covered soldier then back at Indenuel who wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Battle nerves?”
“Sort of. I just came from Sara’s,” Indenuel said as he sheathed his sword.
Captain Luiz nodded. “Ah. I understand. Unconventional, certainly, but I’m sure the history books will make something far nobler of this encounter.”
Indenuel smiled before he looked around, the worry creasing his face. He couldn’t see Tolomon. He needed to know he was there. The last time he saw him, he was fighting too many soldiers at once.
“Where is he?” Indenuel asked, taking a few more steps. “I don’t see him.” It was a feeling he never wanted to have. In that small moment of time, he remembered what the prophecy said. He would suffer great loss and fight the final battle alone. The pain of his heart, the dropping of his stomach, the fear he staved off for the battle began to build as his eyes searched, trying to find him.
“I’m here,” Tolomon said behind him.
Indenuel turned. He didn’t even assess how his friend looked, he just hugged him tightly, feeling the sweat and the blood on him more than seeing it. A Santollian soldier said something to Captain Luiz. He nodded and followed him toward the prisoners they had rounded up.
“Alright, alright, you don’t want Kiam innards on you, do you?” Tolomon asked, giving him a quick pat before peeling him off. Indenuel breathed a sigh of relief. Tolomon sheathed his sword, holding one of the Kiamese crossbows. He was covered in blood and other matter. There was a nasty cut down his face that had hit his eye. His nose was broken in multiple places, and blood trickled from a split lip. He had arrow wounds on his arms, and what looked like a deep gash in his side. He was favoring his left leg and his right arm was swelling.
“Now you actually have something to tell Diego,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon smiled as he wiped the blood from his eye. “I might wait until after the war before I tell him this one.”
“You look awful.”
“As long as I look worse than you, that’s all that matters in the-” It snapped back. Indenuel had been talking to his friend, but the fighter returned. “Grey death!” Tolomon aimed the crossbow and shot an arrow at someone too far to see. He then grabbed the front of Indenuel’s shirt and tossed him toward Captain Luiz before running toward an unknown enemy. Captain Luiz grabbed Indenuel to keep him from falling.
“What? What is that? What’s grey death?” Indenuel asked all at once.
Tolomon caught something out of the air. Indenuel tried to go to him, but Captain Luiz held him back. “Don’t. You’re bleeding.” A grey smoke appeared out of Tolomon’s hands as he pressed it close to his chest.
“What’s he doing! What is that!” Indenuel shouted.
“It’s grey death,” Captain Luiz said quietly. “Some of the most corrupted tree powder in the world.” The smoke circled around Tolomon’s entire body as he dropped to his knees.
“No, no,” Indenuel said as the grey smoke swirled around his injuries before seeping inside his body.
“It enters any open wounds and slowly breaks the body down,” Captain Luiz said.
“No!” Indenuel screamed, throwing himself against Captain Luiz’ grip. Tolomon shuddered as the last of the grey smoke entered him. He let out a raspy breath before he collapsed to the ground. “I can save him! Let me go!”
“He’s gotten too much inside him. He’s a dead man,” Captain Luiz said. “I’m sorry.”
A soldier approached Tolomon, checking him. “The smoke is gone, Captain! No one else can get it.”
Captain Luiz let Indenuel go. He sprinted toward his friend, feeling like he was going to vomit all over again. The grey smoke had disappeared, leaving a stench of a body that had rotted in the sun for too long. Indenuel slid next to Tolomon and pushed him to his back.
“I’m here. I’m here. You’re going to be alright,” Indenuel said.
Tolomon was unconscious, a dead grey color to his face. Indenuel placed his fingers against his temple and sensed chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. He gasped, curling his fingers back in.
“I’m so sorry. Very few make it once it’s in their system,” Captain Luiz said again.
“The King and Queen gave him to me because he is the best,” Indenuel said sharply. “If very few survive it, then he will.”
“The few that have survived it only take in a few whiffs of the smoke,” Captain Luiz said as calmly as he could. “He’s not going to make it past the night.”
“We’ll take him to Martin’s.”
Captain Luiz had already given up; it was clear on his face. Indenuel grabbed his friend, trying to lift him. “Now, Captain! The sooner we get him to Martin, the sooner he’ll get help!”
Captain Luiz nodded before motioning some more soldiers over.