Finally the clasp sprang free, the cloak whisked away, andJulius straightened, wheezing. The chieftain still stood before him, nowstaring in angry confusion at his weapon. The deadly chain-axe mewled in fitsand spurts, its teeth fouled up by the thick woolen cloak, which was nowtightly wrapped around it.
Gripping his sword with both hands, Julius advanced. TheNortlander dropped the useless weapon and pulled out daggers, long brown hairwaving wildly in the wind as he faced Julius. Out of nowhere, two steel boltsslammed into the man’s chest, punching through his burnished breastplate. Hestaggered and nearly fell. Julius swung his sword up and brought it down withas much force as he could muster. The barbarian’s head, sliced clean from hisshoulders, tumbled to the ground. His body followed, landing with a crash thatshook the parapet.
A brief pause followed as both sides stopped their conflictto gape at the fallen giant. Julius coughed. “Finish them off!” he ordered,struggling to push his voice above the sounds of battle.
Those remaining of the enemy fought on, powered by revengeand anger, but they were no match for superior Roman numbers and discipline.The last few threw down their swords, trying to surrender, but the Romans werein the grip of battle rage. There were no survivors.
The weary centurion turned to look at his savior, standingjust a few feet away. Squad Leader Gwendyrn smiled, looking abashedly down at apair of still quivering repeater crossbows. “I’ve been waiting for a chance tofire two of these at the same time.”
Chapter 14
The gears of the elevator squeaked and squealed as theengine pulled the cargo elevator slowly up the steep side of the curtain wall.Within, the last remaining members of the rebellion, along with their Nortlandallies, prepared for battle. Word had come that the Imperial forces had surgedup from a hidden access route along the wall, fighting their way toward therebels’ last remaining lifeline to the outside world. A company had alreadybeen sent ahead to deal with the attackers. The remaining forces had neatlyeviscerated the first Roman assault with a well-placed ambush down below, andhad now fallen back to eliminate this second assault.
Tucked into a corner of the elevator, Corbus and his motherheld a brief conference. “I’ve contacted the Nortlanders, and they have theirairship on the way. It should be close, but I figure we can hold off theImperials for a while. We’ll meet up with some more of our compatriots on thewall, and kick those Romans so hard they’ll have wished they never crossed theRhine!” Amalia finished with a wicked grin.
Corbus nodded, listening to his mother’s plan while runninga whetstone across his twin bluesteel blades. The quadruple-folded layers ofrare metal created an impossibly sharp edge as well as incredible toughness.The weapon could bend and flex without developing weak spots or becomingbrittle. Polishing and sharpening it was one of Corbus’s pre-battle rituals.
Amalia looked at him and smiled. ”Soon the day will comewhen the Romans lie dying in the streets, and we will lead the Germans back fromthe trashcan of history to trample and crush them,” she said quietly, proudly.Then she closed her eyes. A strange keening rose from her throat as she startedworking herself into a battle trance, gripping the carved staff of herdouble-ended spear so tightly that her knuckles went white. Her facial musclestwitched with the barely contained battle madness, and she opened and closedher eyes without registering what she saw.
Corbus scooted away a bit, unnerved by the pseudo-mysticismcomponent of her warrior side, and raised his voice. “Friends, let us prepareourselves. We have companions awaiting us on the wall, ready to help us reachsafety. Each one of you is an asset to the cause. Do not waste your lifeneedlessly. I will take the lead. Remember our goal above all else. Get to thetransport. We are the seed of the future. If we die, our children, and theirchildren, forever and beyond, will be shackled to the wheel of industry andcorruption that is Rome.” The men nodded, knowing the challenge that awaitedthem.
The elevator hissed as it reached the top level, releasingsmall wisps of steam that the wind from the bay tugged along with it. Corbusgrasped the handles of the wicker door and slid it aside. His men poured out,quickly finding cover from which to assess the situation.
Corbus watched from his vantage point as the last fewsurvivors of the first company were slaughtered at the hands of the victoriousRomans. He cursed under his breath.
Amalia appeared next to him. “By the furies, how did they reachhere so fast?” she asked.
Boots pounded across the concrete behind him-the last of hismen had arrived from a hatchway. “Did you activate Operation Vindicator?” sheinquired of their leader. The file leader nodded nervously.
Corbus pulled out his pocket chromation and studied thehands behind the fogged glass for a moment before showing it to his mother. “Wedon’t have much time to waste, then.”
“We have plenty of time to dispatch these enemies offreedom,” Amalia hissed.
Nodding, Corbus turned to his men. “Volley fire, crossbows,on my order.”
Up and down the wall, his men were loading and cocking theirweapons, aiming at the Romans now reforming farther along the wall toward thenorthern tower. An alert soldier pointed at the motley assortment of guerillasand mercenaries and shouted a warning just as they finished loading theirweapons.
Corbus’s sword flicked out. “Shoot!” he yelled, sweeping thesword down. The miniature storm of bolts flashed toward the Romans, catchingthem unawares. Without time to form a decent shield wall, the volley devastatedthem. A dozen men fell writhing in pain, while others stood motionless. Theofficer in charge tried frantically to regain control over his surprised men,and they stumbled into formation, placing their large scuta in front ofthem. The sun broke through the departing fog and clouds to reflect off thecentral metal bosses of their shields.
“Corbus, you get the men out, I’ll keep them at bay!” Amaliashouted as the remaining Romans began to advance on their position, shield wallpreventing the rebel missiles from doing any more damage. Corbus felt ratherthan saw his mother move past him, her warrior essence nearly flowing intobattle. Spear angled low, she charged the Roman line with a piercing wail thatdrove shards of ice into his soul and made his hands move involuntarily tocover his ears. The Romans nearly broke right there, but for the opposingofficer waving his sword frantically and shouting encouraging words to his men.Corbus could just hear the faint exultations over his mother’s blood-curdlingshrieks. A peppering of plumbatae flew past her as she dodged even thebest throws.
His men looked questioningly at him. “What are you waitingfor? We can’t let her kill them all!” he yelled at them. Shouting as one, hismen left cover and ran at their opponents.
Corbus watched Amalia launch herself into the waveringshield wall. Mother, what are you doing? he wondered as he ran after hismen. The dark red scuta shook with the force of her blows as her spear twirledand twisted in seemingly unnatural ways. Several men went down, their comradesdragging them out of the line of battle. Do you have a death wish?
The sudden arrival of a second enemy force threw thesomewhat jubilant post-battle celebrations into chaos as Julius bellowed, “Formshield wall!” He turned, pushing men toward the opponents. “Remember yourtraining! Keep your body low and lock your shields together!”
No sooner had he given the order than a flight of crossbowbolts neatly eviscerated a chunk of his own force. One bounced off of Julius’shelmet. Stars floated before his eyes before he shook them off. We must getinto formation, or we will all die! part of his brain screamed at him as hefought furiously to work some moisture into his dry mouth.