John Marco - The Forever Knight

Next were the conscripts. And this I didn’t want.

Shouting for my men to hold, I rode out with Sariyah to the front of our lines, through the dogfight and the Bogati. Up ahead, Diriel’s generals were urging their first wave of men onto the battlefield. Sariyah blanched as he looked at them, wondering where among them was his son. Kiryk rode out from the Dragons to join us. Lenhart and Jaracz followed.

“We’ll find him if we can,” I told Sariyah. “I remember what he looks like. We’ll get him out of here.”

Sariyah raised his axe. “Or I will die here with him.”

They were a terrible lot, those conscripts, those scores of enslaved. Hundreds of them in rags and broken armor, stolen from their own armies and homes and beaten into submission to fight for Diriel. They looked mindless now, stripped of their humanity, and I knew when I saw them my words hadn’t reached them. So I rode out to try again.

“Hear me!” I cried. “Join us! Asadel, hear me! Be free again!”

Far away on his chariot, Diriel gave his order. His generals echoed it, the whips behind the conscripts cracked, and that sorry horde of slaves came at us, running headlong into death.

“I don’t want this,” I told Sariyah. “They’re not Akyrens.”

Sariyah bumped his horse against mine. “Don’t lose this battle because of my son! They’re enemies now.”

“They didn’t kill Cricket,” I said. “Gods, I’m not a murderer!”

They were running straight for us, but Sariyah turned his back on them to shout at me. “They joined Diriel! They could have died with honor like my sons!”

“But Asadel-”

“Is dead, then! Now fight, Lukien! Fight!”

There was barely time to give the order. Already the Zurans were galloping forwarding, slicing past the dogs to meet their human foes. The conscripts came in a wave, screams tearing from their throats, the swords and hammers and spears held high. Kiryk held back his Silver Dragons as planned, but Marilius looked at me for my sign. Dread-filled, I gave it.

“Attack,” I cried half-heartedly. Then, under Sariyah’s stare, I shouted, “Attack!”

Marilius dropped his sword, and a hundred freelance horsemen charged. In moments they were around me, then past me toward the conscripts. I forced myself to join them, riding hard to catch up to Marilius. When the conscripts were just a few yards out, I raised my sword to defend myself.

On another day, the clash might have been even. In another world more just than mine, the conscripts would have been fed and willing and capable, but today they were neither, and I’ve seen infantry fall like they do. So easily, so quickly my horsemen trampled them. Like dead grass their bodies crumbled, their weapons barely glancing the mercenaries. I hurried into the fray, swooped over one of the men to grab up his collar, and lifted him off his feet like a child.

“Get to the rear!” I shouted at him. “Take safety with us!”

His eyes barely saw me. He tore at me, dropping his sword and using his fingernails instead. I shook him, then smashed the pommel of my sword against his cheek.

“Do you hear me?” I asked. “Go! Leave the field!”

I dropped him and he tumbled, and when I turned I saw Sariyah near me-but he wasn’t swinging his axe. He too searched the faces on the field, looking for Asadel. The horsemen stopped their charge, whirling to hack down the conscripts around them. A handful of unlucky ones were pulled from their mounts. Others saw my lead and stayed their hands, using their horses like plows to push the conscripts out of the way.

“To our lines!” I cried. That glimmer of an idea had given me hope. “Push them toward us!”

Some listened, others didn’t. I rode out to where Marilius was, pushing past the soldiers attacking me but refusing to cut my path. When I reached Marilius he had somehow been surrounded. He hacked down one of the conscripts, then another, then instinctively pushed back the others with his horse. One of the soldier-slaves dropped his sword, staring up at Marilius.

That’s when I knew we’d broken through.

“To the rear!” I yelled. “Gather your comrades and retreat to our lines. Let Diriel see you are free!”

The man did as asked, grabbing at everyone around him and shouting at them to lay down their weapons. Marilius broke away from his attackers and galloped out to circle his troops.

“Push them back!” he shouted. “Back to our lines!”

With a moment to breathe I glanced toward the Akyren lines. Dogs and conscripts still wrestled around me, but I knew Diriel’s first wave had failed. It was easy, and I took no joy in it. He still had hundreds of slaves left to throw at us, and not all of them would come to our side.

“Malator, remember Diriel,” I huffed.

I am watching him , the Akari replied.

Diriel wouldn’t leave the battle soon. Not until I turned the tide. But he would leave eventually, I was sure of it. His greed was too predictable.

A dog came at me from the chaos, jumping for my throat. But I was like a stone wall, and the impact of the beast barely moved me. My arm locked around it, my elbow flexed, and I broke its skull so easily it frightened me. It dropped to the field with blood gushing from its ears.

I was invincible. I was now everything Malator had promised. I refused to fight the conscripts, letting them hack at me instead, their blows so weak they felt like nothing.

“What have you done to me Malator?” I whispered.

I wheeled my horse around to face Diriel’s forces. There were still more dogs to kill, more slaves to endure. I braced myself, wishing Diriel would send me his vaunted legion.

* * *

We took as many conscripts into our lines as would join us, and the men from Isowon took them to the rear of our army to care for them. They were all brainsick from their time with Diriel, shocked by the things they had seen and mistrusting of anyone with a weapon, but they did not rise against us once they surrendered. I galloped back and forth between the battle and our “prisoners,” hoping to convince them to take up arms and help us. The men of Isowon did the same, and in fact a handful of them did join us, though the rest were too afraid. Some even escaped into the valley, where I was sure they wouldn’t last the night.

The other conscripts sent against us fought like madmen. They were not quite the rabble of the first wave, and I had no doubt that the “Emperor” had threatened them with the worst possible torture should they lay down their arms. None of them seemed to care about the battle, but none of them thought Diriel would lose, either, and so they threw themselves against our swords and axes, mindlessly sacrificing themselves. Sariyah searched for Asadel, of course, but his son never appeared. He might have been among the dead for all I knew, for the dead were piling high now on the field, and the sand was thick with blood.

Of all our forces, only the men from Isowon and the Drinmen held back. We would need the Silver Dragons against the legionnaires, and I saw no need yet to call upon civilians. I would spare them what I could, I decided, and took upon myself the role of slaughterer, slashing down the conscripts who wouldn’t join us and tossing them aside, piling them like cord wood as they came at me upon my horse. The butchery was easy for me, vile even, and not once did a sword or spear harm me. Malator’s magic had turned me to metal, it seemed, making me impervious. But the real test was yet to come, and as I glanced out to where Diriel stood upon his chariot I realized his legions were at last preparing to ride.

“Marilius, Sariyah, Chuluun-to me!” I cried and galloped through the combat to gather them around me. One by one they fought their way toward me, knocking aside the slaves and hacking at those that wouldn’t yield.