Chapter 77 – Pride

Lieutenant Vincent didn’t know how long they’d run. They’d just kept going and going. When they began the retreat and the paladins hadn’t shown up—even after five full minutes—he knew they must have gone the wrong way.

Yet, when they tried to wheel the lines around, the howls had only grown louder and louder. The soldiers had just kept running and running, and the night just kept going and going.

“We must,” he gasped, “find somewhere to make a stand…if we can’t find the paladins…”

“Ahead! Sir! Ahead!” cried a man to his right.

“What?” Sweat pouring from his brow, he shoved his hair from his face and gazed forward. Sure enough, ahead of the front ranks of Valdren men, the endless darkness faded. Just a touch. Even with all their torches he could hardly see more than a dozen paces ahead, but foggy, orange dots speckled his view.

It was like looking through frosted glass. Only, something in his gut told him that it was people. He was sure of it.

“Ahead! Ahead! We make for the light!”

His orders carried up and down the formation. It’d stretched to a ragged, winding mess of pressed bodies. Sweat, grime, and iron was on the wind.

Inside the soldiers, however, something even more disturbing grew. An unnatural fear that kept clawing at every man, including the good lieutenant. Snagging the canteen at his side, he fumbled with the lid before growling and just biting the damned thing off. He stole a quick swig, spit, and focused on moving forward.

Like this, a desperate grind grew. The faster they moved, the brighter and larger those foggy lights in the distance seemed to grow. From the size of specks, to pebbles, to oranges, to melons.

By the time the shapes began to finally reveal themselves, the dark fog blanketing their vision started to drain away. At some point—Lieutenant Vincent wasn’t sure when—the howling had drifted off to silence.

The lack of it was so jarring that he nearly fell over.

“Hold!” he shouted. “Hold!”

Two hundred relieved men slowly came to a halt. Armor and gear jostled, breaths were gasped, and spear shafts were planted into the hellscape below.

“Valdren! You fuckers! Is that you!” came a scream.

“Huh?” rasped Vincent. Pressing past his soldiers to get to the front, the lieutenant coughed, trying to clear the dust and grit from his throat. He peered ahead, studying what lay before them.

Beyond a dip in the terrain, perhaps a hundred paces further away, a literal army faced them.

An army. And it wasn’t paladins.

Instead, a very different army was waiting for them, poised as one in the night. The warriors that made up its ranks carried crude sticks with oil dipped rags that served as torches, spitting foul black smoke into the air. Those men holding them looked human. But after what they’d just run through, Vincent really wasn’t sure of anything.

Then he noticed the furs and other handmade weaponry.

Clans people. Why are they here?

Deciding to ask as much, he gave his throat one more good cough to clear it, and shouted back. “Who goes there! I’m Lieutenant Vincent, commander of—”

Before he could finish, a massive hulk of a man roared. Behind him, more of the clans warriors had raised their weapons. Their expressions morphed to that of an anger so cold, the Valdren officer nearly forgot about the beasts that had chased him here.

“Not good, not good.” Grimacing, he took stock of his own men. The exhausted disarray that met his scrutiny made the situation even worse.

Hostile, angry clans warriors in the middle of the night against his men in an awful state.

He wheeled around, barking orders. “Oh for fuck… Oi! Get into formation! If those beasts come back you’d better be ready! I want a double wall - half front - half rear!”

His calls echoed down the sides of the gathering.

“Double wall!”

“Lines one and two! Forward! Three and four–turn! One eighty!”

“Find your lines! Find your lines!”

Squad commanders began to try and instill something resembling order to the formation. More torches were lit and passed around of the several dozen they’d brought, bringing more illumination to bear.

All the while, Vincent spun forward, then back. No sign of the beasts at all. They were just… gone. But—there in the distance to their rear, one glimmer of darkness split. Splotches of gold began to reveal themselves within it.

Paladins!

“Thank The Five. They must have followed us,” he muttered. “The paladins! They’re coming!” he repeated, this time loud enough so the rank and file could hear. They needed the encouragement.

Now if he could just talk some sense into the massive gathering of clans ahead. Honestly, Vincent had never even heard of such a large number of them in one place. Not outside The Wardens.

The Wardens? Are they…

“Wardens!? That you! Listen, we have no qualm here. We came at the behest of a Solari escort to cleanse evil beasts from these lands!”

For a moment, he feared the barbarians were too far gone. The war chief seething in their front was sure doing his best to work up a frenzy.

However, a small, feminine figure joined the giant’s side. She held up one dainty hand. Immediately, the warriors near her quieted. Like a ripple, others around did the same. Torches shifted, clubs and spears were lowered, and the rumbling settled.

“Soldier. Explain!” she yelled.

“Of course! If I could just come over—”

“No. From there. I’m willing to listen, but not a fool.”

That distrust, even for a green folk, was extreme. Then again, they were in the middle of a wasteland that Vincent was sure wasn’t here just a cycle ago. Beasts, darkness, and who knows what else had infested it. Who’s to say it hadn’t spread to the clans as well, wreaking havoc upon their way of life.

From that perspective, it made sense that they wouldn’t trust them. Still… That anger…

Biting his lip, Vincent decided to play along. “Alright. Well, I don’t know everything, but like I said we got some reports of dark beasts up here in Greensward. So, The Solari sent Lord Paladin Brexin and some of their finest to deal with it. In fact,” he gestured behind them where the faint sounds of stomping were starting to grow audible, “they’re right after us. Why don’t we just wait for them to get here and smooth things over?”

The female narrowed her eyes. After a moment of thought, she cupped her hands and spoke quietly to the large war chief by her side. His enormous arms were crossed, muscles bulging. Vincent assumed them both to be clan leaders of a sort. He wasn’t entirely sure how the hierarchy worked—barbaric as far as he was told.

“What are they doing?” asked his second.

“I don't know,” muttered Vincent. “I think there’s more going on here. Perhaps Lord Brexin can shine more light on the matter.”

Figuratively and literally, he hoped. The darkness was beginning to feel more and more ominous again. Vincent wasn’t sure if it was the doing of the beasts, or just his nerves.

The hushed discussion between the clan leaders became more and more animated. Several angry gestures, followed by irate hisses and growls in their direction. By the looks of things, the female was a voice of reason, and the giant a voice of rage.

Against his better judgement, Vincent spoke again. “Would you be willing to simply explain why you are so hostile? I understand our people have never exactly seen eye to eye, but—”

“Why?!” came a roar. The large clans man shoved the female away, pointing his torch at them. “You know why, you sick bastards! You’ve murdered our people, tainted our forests, and brought this… this… place!” he spluttered. “We just wanted to be free. To be left alone. But you couldn’t have that, could you?”

Vincent couldn’t see it from here, but he was sure the man was throwing up spittle as he shouted. He held up both hands, high so they could view them. “Listen. I don’t know anything about that,” he said calmingly. “We’re just out here, doing our job, trying to escort the paladins.”

What are they talking about? Vincent hadn’t heard of anything like they were describing. As far as he knew, they were the first group that’d been through the pass since Hector’s militia.

“What was that about murdering and taint?” asked his second. The man had approached mid conversation, speaking quietly so only Lieutenant Vincent could hear him.

“I don’t know, sergeant. I don’t know. But I’ll tell you what. No one’s been through that pass since Hector. And he only had a dozen men. Something ain’t right here.”

His second grunted in agreement. “Sir. I think we just let the paladins figure this mess out. I know that Lord Brexin isn’t the most… agreeable. But he ain’t a fool. He’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Vincent hoped so.

As if to emphasize his second’s point, the golden army of the very knights in question were stomping closer and closer. Their double time march was growing louder and louder by the second. He’d seen them marching like that before. When they approached the gates of his kingdom back in South Valdren. As if each step was two. They didn’t run—they just strode and the ground carried them.

Eyeing the spectacle, a very faint carpet of gold seemed to unfurl under the men. Before he could truly appreciate the majesty of it, the effect began to diminish and the paladins finally made it within ear shot.

“What in the name of The Five is going on?!” screamed Brexin.

“Oh for fuck sake…” sighed Vincent quietly. He was hoping Brexin would be a good deal more amenable given the situation. Clearly that wasn’t the case.

His second winced. “We might as well turn the back lines around, sir.”

“Yeah. Agreed.” Then, raising his voice. “Bring the lines around! Front! All to the front!” said Vincent.

Squad leaders repeated the orders within the Valdren army.

“Front facing!”

“Wheel it around!”

“Turn! One eighty! All lines forward!”

While the soldiers turned to face all ranks towards the clans, Brexin stormed their way, several paladins close behind. Each step he took crunched in the wasteland below. “What did I tell you, lieutenant! We would engage at dawn!”

“What? But sir, we were assaulted by the beasts! When we came to—”

Brexin waved dismissively. “No more of this nonsense. Now you’ve dragged half the barbarians out here too.” Striding past the Valdren contingent, he moved to the front of their ranks and halted.

“I didn’t drag them out, sir,” he tried to call after him.

Brexin either didn’t hear or didn’t care, as a faint golden hue began to surround him. Like the divine itself was coating his very armor. The night around him seemed to peel away, shining upon the man in its midst.

“What are you doing out here, Solari?” shouted the female clan leader.

The giant next to her growled something inaudible.

“I am Lord Paladin Brexin, leader of The Solaric Sixth Hand. By decree of The Five’s will, we are here to cleanse the darkness in these lands. What are you doing here?”

She scowled. “You did not cause this? To our lands?”

“What? Us? If anyone would cause this dark magic, it would be the practitioners of witchcraft.” Brexin pointed. “I know what you barbarians get up to. Don’t play games with me you—”

Suddenly, the darkness of the night that had blanketed them all so completely for so long evaporated. A blazing purple eye the size of a towering giant appeared directly above the army of clan warriors. Its violet light shone bright enough to illuminate each man and woman present.

That wasn’t what brought the pang of horror blazing through the lieutenant's veins.

No. It was what the eye did. It stared directly at the paladins.

At Lord Brexin himself.

As if on cue, a feeling of such arrogant defiance and pride blossomed in Lieutenant Vincent’s mind that for a moment, he nearly proclaimed himself a Lord Paladin.

What?! What am I thinking?!

Shaking himself, he tried to rid the feeling, but like a nagging itch, it was still present.

Looking around, he saw the soldiers grimacing, and more than a few staring in open anger at the clans.

“She said these were her lands!” barked a soldier.

“How dare they!” snapped another.

“Who does she think she is?”

“The next coming of The Five if I had to guess!”

Discontent spread like the plague. In mere moments, the Valdren forces were a cauldron of righteous fury.

Who were these barbarians to question their rightful rulers?

Then, like all of this was a dream, the eye disappeared. The emotions faded. And the feelings began to lessen at a prodigious rate.

Unfortunately, the damage was already done.

Brexin let out a low, throaty growl. He breathed in heavily, unsheathed his sword, and stabbed it forward. “The darkness is above them! I saw it! I saw it! We all did! You’re the reason it's happening! You’re the darkness we came to cleanse! Fear not, barbarians. We shall shepherd you back to the path of light.”

Then, without any further preamble, Brexin flung his head backwards. “Cleanse them! Cleanse them all!”