Quick note for the Author: If you are just getting started, the story starts with the prologue.
You can also check out the first Chapter here.
Chapter Two - Talinnius
I
Duty...
He thought about that word a lot lately.
What it meant in general.
What it meant to him.
What it meant to others.
His reflection stared back at him from the still water in the bowl. It sighed with him. He did not cherish what was about to come. The judgement was already made and all that was needed was its execution. He did not know why he insisted on speaking to the damned. But he had insisted on it, and his station, his position, gave him the authority to make such a demand.
Talinnius splashed water over his face and chased the running drops with a towel. The waters touch was refreshing. It helped him relax. At another time he would have found that funny. He could rarely relax under normal circumstances; considering the current situation, he did not think it was possible to ease his tension. This was not the first time he found this macabre feeling in his gut funny, and nor would it be the last. Yet somehow, the moment about to come felt different from all the other times he had had such a conversation with a condemned man or woman. It was different this time.
“The prisoner is ready, Talinnius,” A voice called from the doors other side.
“Thank you,” Talinnius replied, projecting his voice without raising it.
He took a deep breath and then another. His mind focused and his awareness extended. With a final deep inhale, he entered the battle trance and his mind cleared. The meditative state removed any doubt. He felt every muscle throughout his body and could control them to an almost inhuman degree. This was what made him and made the others within the Order extraordinary. With a few graceful strides, he pushed passed the dull and battered metal door into the cell beyond.
II
“God’s be praised,” The deserter said. “I didn’t think I was that important.”
Talinnius took the empty chair facing the deserter. He took in the deserter’s condition, smell, and even taste with the battle trance’s enhancements to his senses. Purple bruises and dried blood littered the deserter’s naked body, but defiance blazed from the deserter’s one good eye, while the other was swollen shut and wept fluid. The man even grinned, revealing missing and broken teeth. His hands were chained together, and those chains were secured to the floor behind the chair he resided on. They did not have any give, which forced him to slump in order to prevent the cuffs from digging further into his wrists. Talinnius could tell the deserter’s finger nails had been pulled free by the dried crimson on the chains that bound him. The deserter’s toenails were also removed, and thick blood puddles had dried around his feet. Talinnius could not help but respect the deserter and felt justified for his decision to speak to him one last time.
The deserter spat a bloody soup at Talinnius’s feet and said, “The true Champion of the Order. This seems beneath one of your abilities and reputation, Talinnius. How did I warrant your attention?”
Talinnius looked over his shoulder. Two identical black armoured warriors were writhed in shadows at the cell’s periphery. He could not make out their armour’s details but knew their appearance well; it matched his own. They met his gaze and bowed their heads, before exiting – leaving the room to him and the deserter. He knew both well and trusted they would keep the room safe from prying ears from the outside.
He nimbly unbuckled the strap under his chin with one hand and freed his helm with the other. The helm’s skull-like face plate seemed alive in the dim light. Its eyeless sockets stared with accusation at the deserter and its lipless grin was filled sharp fanged teeth. Talinnius placed it on the ground beside him, facing the deserter so it could stand witness to their conversation.
“So... the devil I know,” The deserter said to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Well met, Tettius,” Talinnius finally spoke. His emotionless voice carried through the room like a knife.
Tettius chuckled mirthlessly, “Well met old friend. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“As do I,” Talinnius replied. “Did you really think I would not come?”
“I thought I would be dead before you had the chance. To be honest, I thought Achamus would have come to administer my judgement.”
“Why?”
“Why did I think Achamus would come?”
“Why did you do what you did, Tettius?”
Another mirthless chuckle, “You know why, even if your brain can’t yet form the thought.”
“Why Tettius?” Talinnius voice softened.
“Is the Order asking?” Tettius asked, “Or are you?”
“Both.”
“That’s a damned lie.” This time the laugh was not melancholic.
Talinnius narrowed his brow and relented, “I am asking you, Tettius.”
“Good,” Tettius said, “We can get started now.” He paused and took in a week breath. After wetting his palette, he continued, “I did what I did for Carthirose. I did what my oath to Carthirose demanded.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a cancer forming, old friend. I will stand against and fight that cancer until my dying breath.”
“You know as well as I do, your death is moments away. The only reason you maintain air in your lungs is because I deem it so.”
“I never knew you were so fond of me,” Tettius said with a sarcastic toothless grin.
“Tettius,” Talinnius said with a calm voice that held a smoldering volcano’s fury.
Tettius winced as if slapped, “I still don’t know how you do that. They say magic left the World when the Gods resumed their slumber, but you have magic in you, old friend. To make a grown man, who has killed without remorse, tremble like a child being scolded by a parent is true magic.”
Talinnius remained silent and stared. It caused Tettius to divert his gaze to the floor and truly slump for the first time. A defeated sigh left his lips and a tear rolled from his battered eye.
“I did not rebel,” Tettius pleaded, “I swear to you, Talinnius! I did not betray Carthirose or the Order... or you.”
“Your judgement has already been decided,” Talinnius said without emotion. The trance prevented the hurt he would have felt from broiling inside in his chest. He was as a statue and as cold as ice, despite the pressures caused by what was to come. “It is your choice to commune or not in your last moments.”
“I wish I could show you Talinnius,” Tettius said, “Then it would all change. You would free me from these chains and care for my wounds. You would place a sword in each of my hands and ask me to charge beside you once more. I am not afraid to die. I am afraid that my death will not be the warning you need to save what we hold dear. You must take up the cause I started.”
“Rebellion is no cause I will lend my swords too. To think that I would take up arms against Carthirose and her people is folly. You should know this.”
“They weren’t our people anymore. Why do you think half a legion fought with me at the end? I can tell you the other half would have fought as well had they not already been touched by disease.”
“Disease?”
“A plague I have never seen or read about. It consumes... but does not fully kill all it touches. I-”
Talinnius shook his head and interrupted, “Enough.”
“Talinnius please!” Tettius one good eye shone with his plea.
“You burned people alive Tettius in that city! You burned them alive! You slaughtered those who sought to escape! You did this without provocation! You did the same to settlements and farms! You created more instability in the western empire than has ever been known-”
“Tal-” Tettius interjected.
“You used your authority to convince Legionnaires to-”
“They followed me because they saw what I saw!”
Talinnius continued without pause, “-to slaughter innocents.”
“I-I... please Talinnius,” Tettius begged.
Talinnius drew a long needle-like dagger from his vambrace and rested it on his lap. His eyes narrowed and his brow tightened. It was an expression that matched the skull faced helm beside him, except for the mouth. He did not share its sinister skeletal grin, making him all together more frightening.
Tettius’s shoulders collapsed fully. He closed his one good eye and defeat was clearly written across his battered face. He took in a deep breath and let it out. His voice regained its earlier confidence, “I hope I am wrong, old friend. I hope those men dying outside these walls and I killed it. I hope we burned it from the face of the World. By the Gods, I hope we did our duty.”
Talinnius stood. He took the two steps to close the distance between himself and the deserter. With an inevitable slowness took the deserter’s hair with his free hand. He pulled the Tettius’s head back exposing his throat and their eyes met.
“Talinnius, I hope those legionnaires who followed me, and I aren’t remembered as heroes. That’s how I’ll know we stopped it. I hope we are remembered as deserters and criminals.”
“You’ll be remembered for what you are.”
“I-”
The deserter’s speech was stifled by a sickening gurgle. The one good eye widened and then rolled back. Rich thick blood rolled from the deserter’s lips and ran between the sharp-edged joints in Talinnius’s gauntlet. Talinnius pushed the dagger up higher, to its hilt, stealing the deserter’s last breath. He could see the blade’s blood tarnished steel glistening between the missing teeth in the deserter’s slack-lipped mouth. The blade ran from beneath the jaw, up through the deserter’s mouth and tongue, into the skull. It was a merciful death and Talinnius knew he would be questioned for giving such a reprieve to a traitor but did not care.
Heightened his grip on the hair and yanked his dagger free. His legs felt heavy as he turned away, and he felt the trance slipping. He freed a clothed from his belt and cleaned the blade before discarding the spoiled rag to the room’s corner. He sheathed the dagger in its hidden scabbard and collected his helm. It smiled up at him as he met its gaze. With controlled emotion, he looked over his shoulder and stared at the deserter one last time. He only saw a friend and wonder how such a man could fall so far.
Talinnius sat down in the chair opposite to the deserter once more. He let the trance go and emotion surged in his breast. With his judgement administered, he replayed the conversation and tried to find meaning. Blood dripped as if keeping time from the deserter’s slumped form. After a while, death’s fresh odour circulated the room, but even that did not disturb Talinnius from his thoughts.
His reverence was finally broken by the cell’s door being opened. he donned his helm as the newcomer walked in. The newcomer wore the same black steel armour as himself and its hard-angular edges were the only thing to reflect the light that made it into the dim cell. Talinnius stood to face the newcomer and stared at the perfect reflection. It should have been unnerving, but it was the most comforting thing in the World to see his mirror image. He had great affection for all who wore this armour - those within the Order; Carthirose’s Champions. Talinnius had an even greater affection for this particular man.
“Veturius,” Talinnius named the newcomer and his oldest friend.
Veturius glanced at the deserter and he nodded slowly, “So it is done... Tettius was guilty?”
“His judgment was determined before I came,” Talinnius said. “You knew that.”
“What a waste.”
Talinnius took the empty chair facing the deserter. He took in the deserter’s condition, smell, and even taste with the battle trance’s enhancements to his senses. Purple bruises and dried blood littered the deserter’s naked body, but defiance blazed from the deserter’s one good eye, while the other was swollen shut and wept fluid. The man even grinned, revealing missing and broken teeth. His hands were chained together, and those chains were secured to the floor behind the chair he resided on. They did not have any give, which forced him to slump in order to prevent the cuffs from digging further into his wrists. Talinnius could tell the deserter’s finger nails had been pulled free by the dried crimson on the chains that bound him. The deserter’s toenails were also removed, and thick blood puddles had dried around his feet. Talinnius could not help but respect the deserter and felt justified for his decision to speak to him one last time.
The deserter spat a bloody soup at Talinnius’s feet and said, “The true Champion of the Order. This seems beneath one of your abilities and reputation, Talinnius. How did I warrant your attention?”
Talinnius looked over his shoulder. Two identical black armoured warriors were writhed in shadows at the cell’s periphery. He could not make out their armour’s details but knew their appearance well; it matched his own. They met his gaze and bowed their heads, before exiting – leaving the room to him and the deserter. He knew both well and trusted they would keep the room safe from prying ears from the outside.
He nimbly unbuckled the strap under his chin with one hand and freed his helm with the other. The helm’s skull-like face plate seemed alive in the dim light. Its eyeless sockets stared with accusation at the deserter and its lipless grin was filled sharp fanged teeth. Talinnius placed it on the ground beside him, facing the deserter so it could stand witness to their conversation.
“So... the devil I know,” The deserter said to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Well met, Tettius,” Talinnius finally spoke. His emotionless voice carried through the room like a knife.
Tettius chuckled mirthlessly, “Well met old friend. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“As do I,” Talinnius replied. “Did you really think I would not come?”
“I thought I would be dead before you had the chance. To be honest, I thought Achamus would have come to administer my judgement.”
“Why?”
“Why did I think Achamus would come?”
“Why did you do what you did, Tettius?”
Another mirthless chuckle, “You know why, even if your brain can’t yet form the thought.”
“Why Tettius?” Talinnius voice softened.
“Is the Order asking?” Tettius asked, “Or are you?”
“Both.”
“That’s a damned lie.” This time the laugh was not melancholic.
Talinnius narrowed his brow and relented, “I am asking you, Tettius.”
“Good,” Tettius said, “We can get started now.” He paused and took in a week breath. After wetting his palette, he continued, “I did what I did for Carthirose. I did what my oath to Carthirose demanded.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a cancer forming, old friend. I will stand against and fight that cancer until my dying breath.”
“You know as well as I do, your death is moments away. The only reason you maintain air in your lungs is because I deem it so.”
“I never knew you were so fond of me,” Tettius said with a sarcastic toothless grin.
“Tettius,” Talinnius said with a calm voice that held a smoldering volcano’s fury.
Tettius winced as if slapped, “I still don’t know how you do that. They say magic left the World when the Gods resumed their slumber, but you have magic in you, old friend. To make a grown man, who has killed without remorse, tremble like a child being scolded by a parent is true magic.”
Talinnius remained silent and stared. It caused Tettius to divert his gaze to the floor and truly slump for the first time. A defeated sigh left his lips and a tear rolled from his battered eye.
“I did not rebel,” Tettius pleaded, “I swear to you, Talinnius! I did not betray Carthirose or the Order... or you.”
“Your judgement has already been decided,” Talinnius said without emotion. The trance prevented the hurt he would have felt from broiling inside in his chest. He was as a statue and as cold as ice, despite the pressures caused by what was to come. “It is your choice to commune or not in your last moments.”
“I wish I could show you Talinnius,” Tettius said, “Then it would all change. You would free me from these chains and care for my wounds. You would place a sword in each of my hands and ask me to charge beside you once more. I am not afraid to die. I am afraid that my death will not be the warning you need to save what we hold dear. You must take up the cause I started.”
“Rebellion is no cause I will lend my swords too. To think that I would take up arms against Carthirose and her people is folly. You should know this.”
“They weren’t our people anymore. Why do you think half a legion fought with me at the end? I can tell you the other half would have fought as well had they not already been touched by disease.”
“Disease?”
“A plague I have never seen or read about. It consumes... but does not fully kill all it touches. I-”
Talinnius shook his head and interrupted, “Enough.”
“Talinnius please!” Tettius one good eye shone with his plea.
“You burned people alive Tettius in that city! You burned them alive! You slaughtered those who sought to escape! You did this without provocation! You did the same to settlements and farms! You created more instability in the western empire than has ever been known-”
“Tal-” Tettius interjected.
“You used your authority to convince Legionnaires to-”
“They followed me because they saw what I saw!”
Talinnius continued without pause, “-to slaughter innocents.”
“I-I... please Talinnius,” Tettius begged.
Talinnius drew a long needle-like dagger from his vambrace and rested it on his lap. His eyes narrowed and his brow tightened. It was an expression that matched the skull faced helm beside him, except for the mouth. He did not share its sinister skeletal grin, making him all together more frightening.
Tettius’s shoulders collapsed fully. He closed his one good eye and defeat was clearly written across his battered face. He took in a deep breath and let it out. His voice regained its earlier confidence, “I hope I am wrong, old friend. I hope those men dying outside these walls and I killed it. I hope we burned it from the face of the World. By the Gods, I hope we did our duty.”
Talinnius stood. He took the two steps to close the distance between himself and the deserter. With an inevitable slowness took the deserter’s hair with his free hand. He pulled the Tettius’s head back exposing his throat and their eyes met.
“Talinnius, I hope those legionnaires who followed me, and I aren’t remembered as heroes. That’s how I’ll know we stopped it. I hope we are remembered as deserters and criminals.”
“You’ll be remembered for what you are.”
“I-”
The deserter’s speech was stifled by a sickening gurgle. The one good eye widened and then rolled back. Rich thick blood rolled from the deserter’s lips and ran between the sharp-edged joints in Talinnius’s gauntlet. Talinnius pushed the dagger up higher, to its hilt, stealing the deserter’s last breath. He could see the blade’s blood tarnished steel glistening between the missing teeth in the deserter’s slack-lipped mouth. The blade ran from beneath the jaw, up through the deserter’s mouth and tongue, into the skull. It was a merciful death and Talinnius knew he would be questioned for giving such a reprieve to a traitor but did not care.
Heightened his grip on the hair and yanked his dagger free. His legs felt heavy as he turned away, and he felt the trance slipping. He freed a clothed from his belt and cleaned the blade before discarding the spoiled rag to the room’s corner. He sheathed the dagger in its hidden scabbard and collected his helm. It smiled up at him as he met its gaze. With controlled emotion, he looked over his shoulder and stared at the deserter one last time. He only saw a friend and wonder how such a man could fall so far.
III
His reverence was finally broken by the cell’s door being opened. he donned his helm as the newcomer walked in. The newcomer wore the same black steel armour as himself and its hard-angular edges were the only thing to reflect the light that made it into the dim cell. Talinnius stood to face the newcomer and stared at the perfect reflection. It should have been unnerving, but it was the most comforting thing in the World to see his mirror image. He had great affection for all who wore this armour - those within the Order; Carthirose’s Champions. Talinnius had an even greater affection for this particular man.
“Veturius,” Talinnius named the newcomer and his oldest friend.
Veturius glanced at the deserter and he nodded slowly, “So it is done... Tettius was guilty?”
“His judgment was determined before I came,” Talinnius said. “You knew that.”
“What a waste.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more. He defended his actions but accepted his fate.”
“That doesn’t sound like a guilty man.”
“No, it does not.”
“We deal with our own. Just as the Legion deals with their own.” As if on a signaled queue, a stifled scream made its way into the cell from beyond the stone walls.
“That we do,” Talinnius replied once the scream died away.
“Apologies for disturbing you,” Veturius said and presented a scroll, “Its sealed with the Order’s sigil. I thought it best to give it to you immediately.”
Talinnius took the scroll but did not open it. He looked at the deserter and said, “I want to know what caused this. We need to retrace his steps.”
He broke the seal and unraveled the parchment. The words were written with an artist’s touch. The lettering and style were familiar to him. He had read letters from the same hand who wrote this one, on many occasions.
His eyes widened in horror. The parchment fell from his hand, into the fresh blood that had pooled around the deserter’s feet. His hands trembled for the first time in his life. He did not know what to do. Instinct and training compelled him. Without a word, he marched to the cell’s door and was only stopped by Veturius’s hand on his shoulder.
“What is it?” Veturius asked.
“I-” Talinnius stammered and then collected himself. “You need to retrace Tettius’s steps on my behalf. Take Attia. Meet me in Carthirose after you find out why he betrayed the Empire. Quintis has summoned me back to the capital.”
“Summoned you to Carthirose?” Veturius asked, “Why?”
“I-I can’t voice it.” Talinnius’s eyes darted to letter on the cell’s floor.
Veturius let his hand fall to his side and knelt to pick up the parchment. Blood had soaked through the fine paper and dripped at its corner. In much the same way as Talinnius, Veturius’s eyes widened as he took in the message’s horror.
“By the gods-” He breathed in deep order to speak, “I don’t believe it.”
“Please Veturius,” Talinnius said over his shoulder, “Found out why Tettius acted as he did.”
“Acham-” Veturius sought to speak the letter’s horrific message.
“Veturius!” Talinnius used the same voice that ceased Tettius’s sarcasm earlier.
As if struck, Veturius shook. The glaze departed his eyes and they focused. He met Talinnius’s gaze and nodded slowly, “Forgive me. I will see the task done. You have my word.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Talinnius said with genuine warmth. “I will see you in Carthirose when your task is complete.”
“Go, Talinnius,” Veturius urged.
Talinnius did not hesitate again. He sprinted from the cell and down the narrow tunnel beyond.
The agonized screams became louder once he left the keep’s catacombs. The fort was minor compared to the grander fortifications the Empire had to offer, but it made up for what it lacked in size with function. Its utilitarian design made it easy to defend, even by a small garrison, and gave it the ability to house an entire Legion comfortably, as it did now. It resided beyond the old defenses – the ancient forts that circled Carthirose’s first boundaries – to the northwest, and it protect the only crossing the river Gracus offered. Although it was relatively new, it had inspired a name that its builders had not given it: the Dreadfort.
Talinnius wasted no time getting to the stables. He made his horse ready with practiced ease and a haste born from necessity. The horse whined at the sudden disturbance but settled quickly and took on the same urgency, when he mounted it. It rode hard from its stall and he guided it towards the outer wall’s open gate in the screams’ directions.
When he was through the gate, the sources of the pained cries were revealed. They were lined along the cobbled road like criminals. Veturius was not wrong. The Legions did deal with their own. The death shrieks and moans were a testament to that judgement. Those Legionnaires who had followed the deserter were being nailed upon wood crosses one at a time.
Most, who were fixed to a cross first, were already dead. Whether from exhaustion or asphyxiation they no longer wailed, and their bowels had emptied. Those who still wailed did not know the full torment they would face over the coming days, having only just faced the nails hammered into their wrists and broken ankles. Legionnaires from the loyal Legions were hard at work erecting a fresh cross and stabilized it in the earth, while others patrolled the prison erected around those who were yet to be punished. The erected Legionary on the cross pleaded for mercy as gravity put his weight onto the nails. Those beneath paid no heed and moved onto the next prisoner in line, without hesitation. Their duty was clear; they were no strangers to enacting this punishment and creating the scene that earned the fort its moniker.
Talinnius rode through this all without a glance or thought directed towards the mass execution. He was completely focused on the road ahead. It would take him a full day and night to reach the capital without rest. He could not afford the time to witness the condemned.
“That doesn’t sound like a guilty man.”
“No, it does not.”
“We deal with our own. Just as the Legion deals with their own.” As if on a signaled queue, a stifled scream made its way into the cell from beyond the stone walls.
“That we do,” Talinnius replied once the scream died away.
“Apologies for disturbing you,” Veturius said and presented a scroll, “Its sealed with the Order’s sigil. I thought it best to give it to you immediately.”
Talinnius took the scroll but did not open it. He looked at the deserter and said, “I want to know what caused this. We need to retrace his steps.”
He broke the seal and unraveled the parchment. The words were written with an artist’s touch. The lettering and style were familiar to him. He had read letters from the same hand who wrote this one, on many occasions.
His eyes widened in horror. The parchment fell from his hand, into the fresh blood that had pooled around the deserter’s feet. His hands trembled for the first time in his life. He did not know what to do. Instinct and training compelled him. Without a word, he marched to the cell’s door and was only stopped by Veturius’s hand on his shoulder.
“What is it?” Veturius asked.
“I-” Talinnius stammered and then collected himself. “You need to retrace Tettius’s steps on my behalf. Take Attia. Meet me in Carthirose after you find out why he betrayed the Empire. Quintis has summoned me back to the capital.”
“Summoned you to Carthirose?” Veturius asked, “Why?”
“I-I can’t voice it.” Talinnius’s eyes darted to letter on the cell’s floor.
Veturius let his hand fall to his side and knelt to pick up the parchment. Blood had soaked through the fine paper and dripped at its corner. In much the same way as Talinnius, Veturius’s eyes widened as he took in the message’s horror.
“By the gods-” He breathed in deep order to speak, “I don’t believe it.”
“Please Veturius,” Talinnius said over his shoulder, “Found out why Tettius acted as he did.”
“Acham-” Veturius sought to speak the letter’s horrific message.
“Veturius!” Talinnius used the same voice that ceased Tettius’s sarcasm earlier.
As if struck, Veturius shook. The glaze departed his eyes and they focused. He met Talinnius’s gaze and nodded slowly, “Forgive me. I will see the task done. You have my word.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Talinnius said with genuine warmth. “I will see you in Carthirose when your task is complete.”
“Go, Talinnius,” Veturius urged.
Talinnius did not hesitate again. He sprinted from the cell and down the narrow tunnel beyond.
IV
Talinnius wasted no time getting to the stables. He made his horse ready with practiced ease and a haste born from necessity. The horse whined at the sudden disturbance but settled quickly and took on the same urgency, when he mounted it. It rode hard from its stall and he guided it towards the outer wall’s open gate in the screams’ directions.
When he was through the gate, the sources of the pained cries were revealed. They were lined along the cobbled road like criminals. Veturius was not wrong. The Legions did deal with their own. The death shrieks and moans were a testament to that judgement. Those Legionnaires who had followed the deserter were being nailed upon wood crosses one at a time.
Most, who were fixed to a cross first, were already dead. Whether from exhaustion or asphyxiation they no longer wailed, and their bowels had emptied. Those who still wailed did not know the full torment they would face over the coming days, having only just faced the nails hammered into their wrists and broken ankles. Legionnaires from the loyal Legions were hard at work erecting a fresh cross and stabilized it in the earth, while others patrolled the prison erected around those who were yet to be punished. The erected Legionary on the cross pleaded for mercy as gravity put his weight onto the nails. Those beneath paid no heed and moved onto the next prisoner in line, without hesitation. Their duty was clear; they were no strangers to enacting this punishment and creating the scene that earned the fort its moniker.
Talinnius rode through this all without a glance or thought directed towards the mass execution. He was completely focused on the road ahead. It would take him a full day and night to reach the capital without rest. He could not afford the time to witness the condemned.
Brett
No comments:
Post a Comment