FOUR: TRUE METTLE

  “HIC MANEBIMUS OPTIME!” Marcus bellowed, the old words filled with rage as he stood his ground as the imp wedged its broad head into the room. Stone cracked like ice as flesh forced it apart, the monster too large to enter. A wide eye the size of two fists stared at them, the scant few survivors, while a toothy grin stretched its non-existent lips.

  It pulled back, and a wave of the smaller imps came through. All were like the original imp by the gate, but there were a half dozen of them, and they outnumbered the legionnaires. Marcus met them without moving; the red light burned on his spear as he killed the first with a thrust. Then two more slammed into the veteran’s shield, driving him back and causing him to drop his spear.

  Cassius shook the daze off himself as he grabbed Claudius’s spear from the man’s limp hand and stood shoulder to shoulder with Marcus, helping relieve some of the weight of the attack. Then another of the survivors rose and took their place, and then the final one of them. Four bloodied legionnaires held the line as the imps came and died on speartip, sword, or shield rim.

  “Are there more?” Pius asked, shocked as he looked at the broken-open door that let streams of early-morning light through.

  “I don’t know. Grab what you can,” Marcus said, taking command with ease as Pius and Valeria both started to scrounge from their dead comrades. Cassius stood by his shield brother, limbs too numb to do anything but stand.

  “That’s going to scar, if we live,” Marcus said casually.

  “What is?” Cassius asked.

  “Your face is peeled like a tomato. The little bastard got you good,” Marcus said. Cassius finally remembered the pain across his face and his closed eye.

  “The eye. Is it still there?” His voice was calm enough to scare him as he stood there. Cassius was tired, bloody, and likely moments from death. He didn’t fear it, though. Cold resolve ran through his veins as he looked at what needed to be done to stave death off, even if for just a few minutes longer.

  “It’s there. Blood coated it, though. We’ll grab our pack, and I'll clean you off. Pack the wound,” Marcus promised.

  “If we live,” Cassius reminded him. The older veteran laughed as he agreed.

  “If we live. Pius, Valeria, are you ready? We’ll push through the door and see what awaits us. Maybe we will see our brothers and sisters soon,” Marcus said. Pius frowned as he took a long knife from Gracchus’s boot and strapped it to his waist. Valeria laughed, low and throaty as she shook her head back and forth.

  “Let us see this evil done then,” Valeria said as she took her place to the side of Cassius while Pius took Marcus’ shoulder.

  “Together then, brothers, sister. Murus invictus,” Marcus said. Cassius knew the legion’s saying by heart. Invincible wall. It was what they were. The wall that could not be broken.

  “On me!” Marcus barked, and he started to march forward, all four survivors right with him. Cassius felt the slow thunder of his heart in his breast, the powerful beat of it as blood rolled in slow pulsing waves between his crushed armor plates. He was dying, there was no denying it. He would stand though and meet it head on, as a legionnaire was supposed to.

  “What is that?” Pius asked as they reached the broken open door frame. It was wide enough for two to go, Pius and Valeria sliding behind Marcus and Cassius.

  “I hear nothing,” Cassius said on instinct.

  “Quiet,” Marcus chided, no sting in his voice as he leaned forward, a frown etched on his features as he focused.

  “It’s a hunting horn. Several of them,” Marcus said as he leaned back.

  “Nobody else should be out here. Not from the legion anyway. The rest of the century is to the west,” Valeria said. The sudden arrival of possible reinforcements had stolen the valor and frozen emotions Cassius had balanced himself upon.

  All four of them slunk back a few steps, still in the dawn light, but inside the stone.

  “Valeria and Pius, watch the doors. I’m going to fix Null up so he doesn’t bleed out,” Marcus ordered them as he set down his spear and went to one of the packs strewn across the ground. Cassius felt his knee buckle, and he hit the ground. Weight rested on the shield as he kept his eyes locked on the door.

  It wasn’t long before he heard the horns himself. Loud and brassy, they announced themselves without a care for the world. Outside, the screech of the greater imp rang out, a challenge to the horns.

  “Hope whoever is out there is ready for it. That one was bigger than the one in the street,” Marcus said as he sidled next to Cassius, a canteen in one hand and linen in the other.

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  “Tighten and slow the bleeding now. When we make camp, I’ll create the poultice and pack the wounds,” Marcus promised as he worked Cassius lorica off. Dented and torn pieces of steel hit the ground, and Cassius hissed between his teeth as a fresh wave of blood pulsed free.

  Sodden cloth tore easily, and Marcus poured water over the wound, bandages coming behind a second later as Marcus did his best to stuff the wound to slow the bleeding.

  “Armor is gone. You’ll just have to be careful till we get you something in better shape.” Marcus patted Cassius’ good shoulder as he got up and turned to look toward the opening in the building. A duel had started; the clarion call of the horns battled the screech of imps as the entire region seemed to come alive. The four legionnaires had luckily been forgotten about.

  “When battle begins, we move out. Straight toward the gate, double speed. If we can help, we will. If not, we move hard west toward the rest of the century.” Everyone nodded to Marcus. Packs were grabbed as the horns got closer, growing in volume till they threatened to drown out the wailing of the imps.

  “Soon. Cassius, stay by my side,” Marcus said. Cassius nodded and lifted the shield in his good hand, uncomfortable with the positioning of it and how he couldn’t draw his sword. The shield was more critical to the wall than his sword. That was what his brothers and sister were for.

  “Now!” The four of them burst from the building and onto the streets. The sun had lightened the world until it was clearly visible; only hints of the early dawn shadows still lurked in the corners. Dew and blood mingled together as the sound of battle came from toward where the gates were located.

  Without a word, the four of them hurried forward, weapons held tight by those who could; Cassius only focused on his shield. Each step shot a stab of pain through him, his shoulder cried as he ran, but he couldn’t divert or slow down as they passed through the granary without sight of any of the beasts.

  “Mount the wall,” Marcus said. Their barricade was still in place, the imps having scaled the wall with their talons. Pius went first with Marcus behind him, then Cassius, and Valeria at the end of the line as they reached the top of the short wall. All four of them stood shocked as they saw the line of imps that lined the road.

  Five of the beasts, each of them larger than the one they’d slain in the town, stood on their hunched legs as they charged toward the horn blowers. Five mounted cavalrymen in full armor rode out, their helms obscuring their faces, lances long and glinting in the morning light.

  “Beasts are running into the sun,” Valeria noted, and Cassius nodded without saying anything.

  “Whose banner is that?” Marcus said. There was no caution in his voice as he leaned against the wall and stared as the monsters ran away from the granary and toward the cavalry.

  “Do we need to help them?” Cassius asked, earning only a snort of derision from Marcus and an actual bark of laughter from Valeria.

  “Those are the Blood. They hunt worse than this for fun,” Pius informed him, not bothering to laugh at Cassius’ naivete.

  “First Strata? Stone owners?” Cassius asked, trying to confirm as the rest of them nodded. The five riders had gently kicked their horses into a trot, then a lope, finally into a gallop as lances lowered. Each of them found their own target, spreading out as the distance between the two parties vanished in a moment, streamers of power gathering around the nobles in a myriad of colors that hurt to look at as they glowed so brightly.

  “This is why they rule,” Valeria whispered as the five nobles slammed into the greater imps and tore them apart. Bone and blood exploded outward in wide sprays as the five of them slowed their horses and wheeled back, laughter loud and easily heard as they talked to each other.

  “That’s…that’s…” Cassius tried to find the words to describe the casual display of power. It had taken a full file to kill a single one of the higher-level beasts, which had been smaller than what the nobles had faced. And they had killed it in a single strike, content to laugh and ride without a second thought.

  “Powerful.”

  It was the only word he could think of. The others hummed in agreement as the rest of the party came into view. Dozens of riders in armor, lances showing as they rode. Palanquins carried by men and women in tight clothing, skin oiled and exposed to the dawn, while their burden lounged behind silk screens.

  Porters and men-at-arms walked behind the files of lines, a small baggage train of burros behind them, laden with packages. In the midst of the chaos rode a man firmly mounted on an elegant, sleek steed of pure white. Robes of royal blue covered him, his hair white and flowing in the wind, face clean shaven as he looked down a long nose as if everything he saw was his to command.

  Twin shadows rode behind him, a boy and a girl who were close to breaching the realm into adulthood. Heavy robes covered their forms, deep blue as their leaders, and they carried similar enough facial characteristics to the man that Cassius was sure they were family.

  “I think that is Senator Hadranius. You can see his sigil there,” Marcus said, nodding with his chin toward the black eagle on a white field, a sheaf of wheat in one hand with a spear in the other. It fluttered from every pole that could be found, a declaration of strength as the senator rode forward.

  “Friend of the general, or?” Cassius asked.

  “Neutral. Speaks for or against her. Honest and brutal. From the Agricola, can’t remember what clan though,” Marcus said.

  “Who is going to go down and ask them?” Valeria asked. None of them leapt forward to see if the Senator and his party would take the time for a few poor legionnaires.

  “Oh shit. I remember his clan. It’s Triticum. This is his family’s granary,” Marcus said, face pulled into a frown as he looked around the ruins of the small community. Corpses lay half dissolved, stone and wood broken down by the corrosive blood of the imps.

  “Think they have a medicus? A blessed one?” Cassius asked as the world began to slide back and forth. His head felt light, as if he moved too fast, it would flow off of him and into the distance. Marcus turned to him and frowned at him.

  “You’re awfully pale, Null. Why don’t you sit down? Valeria and Pius, go down there and flag them down. We can report to the senator while Cassius sees their medicus,” Marcus ordered. Cassius tried to reach out to the small crenelation on the wall to steady himself, but his knee buckled as he pitched forward and into the waiting soft darkness.