The Autumn Republic

The Wings’ rearguard had held together longer than Adamat expected, but by the time the Adran reinforcements arrived, they were all but spent. The Kez auxiliaries faltered at the initial impact, but their apparent numbers gave them courage and, somewhat chaotically, they wheeled to meet the new threat.

Adamat watched the battle from behind the wagon-no need for heroics from an old investigator-sparing a glance at Nila every so often with the hope that she would regain consciousness.

The battle turned brutal. The Wings’ rearguard had been brave but overly young and they had managed to absorb the shock of the initial Kez charge. The Adran reinforcements, while heavily outnumbered, were seasoned veterans. They tore into the Kez auxiliaries without mercy, working in groups to bring down Wardens with their bayonets and keeping their lines firm despite the confusion of the camp tents.

The sky turned dark with clouds of powder smoke, and the air smelled of sulfur, stamped mud, blood, and shit. War cries gave way to wails of the wounded, and the sound made Adamat want to crawl under the wagon with Nila.

The fighting turned desperate as the Adran companies slaughtered auxiliaries by the dozens and Wardens managed to break the Adran lines. The whole affair seemed to be getting dangerously close to Adamat’s hiding spot, and then it was suddenly upon him.

An Adran soldier retreated past Adamat’s wagon beneath the advancing bayonets of three Kez auxiliaries. The poor soul tripped on a tent line and sprawled on his back, and the three pressed their advantage. They would be on him in a moment’s time.

Adamat swore at length as he twisted the head of his cane and drew out the short sword within. He managed to cross the fifteen paces to the nearest of the three Kez without tripping himself and put the blade between the shoulders of the middle one, then turned and stabbed the neck of the second.

The third had already finished scrambling the bowels of the Adran infantryman by the time Adamat finished backstabbing the first two. He turned to Adamat, a look of surprise on his face, and then charged with a wordless scream, his bayonet dripping gore.

It was Adamat’s turn to retreat. He scrambled backward as quick as he dared, trying not to end up like the infantryman he’d failed to save. He stumbled once and then turned and full-out ran, hoping that not a soul had seen him do so.

He’d be buggered before he tried to fight a bayonet-armed soldier with nothing more than a cane sword.

The soldier chased him around the wagon twice before he was scared off by a squad of Adran infantry moving in a tight square.

“Old man!” one of the infantrymen yelled. “Get out of the fight!”

What a stupid thing to say. The fight was everywhere. Adamat opened his mouth for a retort but found himself screaming a warning.

A Warden slammed into the squad with the force of a cannonball. Five of the men were knocked off their feet and the rest wheeled to face the creature, jabbing with bayonets that the creature ignored as if they were mere pins. It snatched a rifle from the closest soldier and slammed the butt across another’s face with enough force to send teeth and blood flying. It grabbed another of the soldiers by the throat, crushing his windpipe with a casual squeeze and leaving the man to die of suffocation.

It had killed almost half the squad by the time they managed to put the creature down.

Adamat watched as two of the infantrymen put a bayonet through each of the creature’s eyes and pinned it to the ground until it stopped struggling. He realized he’d never actually seen one of these creatures before. Even after it should have been long dead its muscles still moved unnaturally beneath its skin and the mouth opened and closed on its own, swollen black tongue lolling out the side of its mouth.

Adamat felt his heart pumping hard after watching the fight, despite not having even engaged the creature. Such strength! Such power! He couldn’t imagine the twisted sorcery it took to make one of these things.

His contemplation of the corpse was cut short as a spine-numbing screech cut through the air. Adamat whirled just in time to see a black-clad Warden bound over the wagon, clearing it by a good two feet, and land amid the already reeling squad of Adran soldiers.

It snatched up one man by the ankle and swung him like a club, bashing him into two of the others, then slinging him over one shoulder and through the air.

The lifeless body might have crushed Adamat had he not dove out of the way. He struggled to his feet, one hand searching for his cane sword while the other held the wagon lip to steady himself. He regained his composure in time to witness the Warden slaughter the rest of the squad with a broken bayonet.