Morgan Rice - Soldier, Brother, Sorcerer

Some of the guards there tried to fight back. A man struck at Ceres with an axe. She ducked, hearing the thud as it struck stone behind her, then lanced one of her swords through his gut. She stepped around him, kicking him down toward the courtyard. She caught a slash against her blades and pushed another man back.

There weren’t enough guards to hold the wall. Some ran. The ones who came forward died. One ran at Ceres with a spear, and she felt it nick her leg as she dodged with no space. She cut low to hamstring her attacker, and then brought her blades across at throat height.

Her brief beachhead atop the wall quickly expanded into something approaching a wave front. Ceres found steps leading down to the gates, and took them four at a time, pausing only to parry a thrust from a waiting guard and strike back with a kick that sent him sprawling. While the combatlord behind her leapt at the guard, Ceres’s attention was on the gates.

A great wheel stood beside the gates, obviously there to open their bulk. There were almost a dozen guards beside it in a ring, trying to protect it and keep out the horde of people beyond. More stood with bows, ready to shoot down anyone who tried to open the gates.

Ceres charged at the wheel without pausing.

She thrust through the armor of one guard, drew out her sword, and ducked under a second’s blow. She swept her sword across his thigh, leapt up to her feet, and cut down a third. She heard an arrow clatter from the cobbles, and threw one blade, hearing a scream as it connected. She snatched up a dying guard’s sword, rejoined the battle, and in an instant, the others were with her.

It was chaos there in the next few moments, because the guards seemed to understand that this was their last chance to keep out the rebellion. One came at Ceres with two blades, and she matched him cut for cut, feeling the impact as she parried each one, probably faster than most of the others around them could follow. Then she thrust in between the strokes, catching the guard through the throat, moving on before he could even collapse so that she could parry an axe blow aimed at a combatlord.

She couldn’t save all of them. Around her, Ceres saw violence that never seemed to stop. She saw one of the combatlords who had survived the Stade looking down at a sword that pierced his chest. He pulled in his attacker as he fell, hitting him with one final swipe of his own blade. Ceres saw another man fighting against three guards. He killed one, but as he did so, his blade caught, and another was able to stab him in the side.

Ceres charged forward, cutting down both of those who were left. Around her, the battle for the door wheel raged to its inevitable conclusion. It was inevitable, because faced with the combatlords, the guards there were like ripe corn, waiting to be cut down. That didn’t make the violence any less real though, or the threat. Ceres dodged back just in time from a sword thrust and threw the wielder back into the others there. As soon as the space was clear, Ceres put her hands to the wheel and pushed with all the strength her powers gave her. She heard the creak of pulleys, and the slow groan of the doors as they started to part.

People poured in, flowing into the castle. Her father and brother were among the first through the gap, racing to join her. Ceres gestured with her sword.

“Spread out!” she yelled. “Take the castle. Kill only those you have to. This is a time for freedom, not butchery. The Empire falls today!”

Ceres went at the head of the wave of people, heading for the throne room. In times of crisis people would head there to try to learn what was happening, and Ceres guessed that those in charge of the castle would stay there as long as they dared, trying to maintain control.

Around her, she saw violence breaking out, impossible to contain, impossible to do more than slow down. She saw a young nobleman step out in front of them, and the crowd fell on him, beating him with whatever weapons they could grab. A servant got in their way, and Ceres saw her shoved against the wall and stabbed.

“No!” Ceres yelled as she saw some of the ordinary folk there starting to grab for tapestries or running after nobles. “We’re here to stop this, not loot!”

The truth was, though, that it was already too late. Ceres saw rebels chasing after one of the servants there, while others grabbed for the golden ornaments that filled the castle. She’d let a tidal wave into it, and now there was no hope of turning it back just with words.

A squadron of royal bodyguards stood in front of the doors to the great hall. They looked formidable in their gilt-edged armor, etched with false musculature and images designed to intimidate.

“Surrender and you will not be harmed,” Ceres promised them, hoping now that she would be able to keep that promise.

The royal bodyguards didn’t even pause. They charged forward with drawn blades, and in an instant, everything was chaos again. The royal bodyguards were among the finest warriors of the Empire, their skills honed through long hours of training. The first one to lunge at her was fast enough that even Ceres had to bring her blade up sharply to intercept the blow.

She parried again, her second blade slipping around the bodyguard’s weapon and darting into his throat. Beside her, she could hear the sounds of people fighting and dying, but she didn’t dare to look around. She was too busy pushing back another opponent, shoving him into the heaving mass of the melee.

It was nothing but crushing bodies then. Swords seemed to emerge from it as though from some great writhing pool of flesh. She saw a man crushed against the doors, the sheer weight of people behind him squashing him there, just as they carried her forward.

Ceres waited until she got closer, then kicked the door to the great hall. The castle gates had been solid, but these broke open under the power of her blow, rocking back until they slammed into the walls on either side.

Within the great hall, Ceres saw clusters of nobles, waiting as if unsure where to go. She heard several of the noblewomen there scream as if some horde of murderers had descended upon them. From where they stood, Ceres guessed it probably didn’t look too different from that at all.

She saw Queen Athena at the heart of it all, sitting on the high throne that should have been the king’s, flanked by a pair of the largest bodyguards there. They ran forward in unison, and Ceres stepped in to meet them.

She did more than step, she rolled.

She threw herself forward, diving under the sweeping blades of the attackers, tumbling and coming up in one smooth movement. She turned, striking out with both of her swords at once, catching the bodyguards with enough force to punch through their armor. They fell without a sound.

One sound did echo over the clashing blades at the door: the sound of Queen Athena clapping with deliberate slowness.

“Oh, very good,” she said as Ceres turned back to her. “Very elegant. Worthy of any jester. What will you do for your next trick?”

Ceres didn’t rise to the bait. She knew Athena had nothing but words left. Of course she was going to try to get all she could from them.

“Next, I bring the Empire to an end,” Ceres said.

She saw Queen Athena fix her with a level glare. “With yourself in its place? Here comes the new Empire, same as the old.”

That hit closer than Ceres would have liked. She’d heard the screams of the nobles as the rebels with her had spread like wildfire through the castle. She’d seen some of those they’d cut down.

“I’m nothing like you,” Ceres said.

The queen didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, she laughed, and some of the nobles joined in with her, obviously long accustomed to tittering along when their queen found something funny. Others seemed far too scared, cowering back.