| War and History Fiction posted October 18, 2022 | Chapters: |
...26 27 -28- 29... 
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Colton and the others enter the district of death
A chapter in the book Rise from the Fall
Dawn and Duty
by Rinshikai
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
| Background Colton Arverni is an auxiliary soldier in service to the Empire. When an aspiring new commander jeopardizes the northern frontier, Colton's life is changed forever. |
Colton
Dawn embraces our encampment as Becka, and I lay in my tent, enjoying each other's company. Our journey has been crazy, but we've grown closer because of it. I can open up to her like Melissa, a comfort I haven't had in a long time.
The tent flaps open, and a cloaked woman enters. At first, I thought she was one of the camps laborers, but her mask is coated in delicate gold trim.
Her cloak falls to her feet, and the maiden removes her mask, revealing herself to be Tatanya. Placing her mask down, she undresses, allowing me to see her lovely figure. Like a goddess, she walks toward me, offering the sweet taste of her lips.
"Why are you here?" Becka tries to burn a hole through Tatanya's head with a glare. "Aren't you worried you'll be mistaken for a whore?"
I expected Tatanya to spit hot coals, but she laughs it off, sliding herself into my lap. "They couldn't afford me. Unlike you." She moves her hips working her magic on me, and I can feel Becka's nails digging into my back. "Colton is my husband; he deserves loving from his wife before marching into the unknown."
Edging on the verge of release, Tatanya climaxes without me, biting down on her lip to hide a moan. Sweat glistens off her body, and I catch her before she falls out of my lap. Like a ragdoll, she hangs loose in my arms, breathing heavily. "Got you," I say.
"Nice catch, soldier boy." Pulling herself up, her painted fingers intertwine with mine, rubbing the scar Becka had left on my hand with her thump. Then her finger dances across my chest, resting on the mark left by the poisoned bolt that nearly killed me. "My God, so many." She continues tracing each scar, worry escaping her lips. "You don't need to fight anymore."
"Tatanya."
She forces me to look at her. "Apologize to my Uncle, and I'll vouch for you and your Aunt. You're nobles now. You don't need to die like dogs." She takes my hands and slides them across her body. "We can be a family." She kisses me.
Again, the Empire tempts me with acceptance, and all I have to do is give up a part of myself. The fog creeps into the tent, and the uncertainty of the future comes with it. Tristan, Hahaku, Becka, and the others are family, just like my Aunts and sister. "I can't, Tatanya. I won't abandon them."
Sympathy turns to anger. Tatanya crawls off of me and dresses. "I offer you a way out, and you throw it in my face." Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, she covers her face with a mask. "Once a mongrel, always a mongrel." Her words cut deep, but I've gotten used to hearing them. One last look from those eyes, and she disappears into the mist.
A pair of fingers tiptoe across my back. "Finally. I thought that she'd never leave." Pulling me down, Becka crawls on top of me, and we start a game of our own. Sliding her hips back and forth, we savor the moment for as long as we can. But like all good things, it's over far too soon.
Becka collapses on top of me, trying to catch her breath. Head resting on my chest, I tuck a few locks of hair behind her ear. Staring at me with those beautiful green eyes, my hand goes for her arm. We had her slave tag reforged into an armband, the Madames stone necklace acting as its centerpiece.
She sits on top of me. "Are you going to keep your promise? When all this is said and done, you will make a home for all of us, right?" That's a promise I want to keep, but I'm worried I can't honor it.
The glint from her armband distracts me. "It suits you." My hand crawls across her body, resting on her cheek. "Becka, I..."
The tent flaps fly open, and Tristan stands there with a grin. Dawning his hide armor and plate, he gestures to the gate. "You two better hurry up. Don't want to get chewed out again." He closes the flaps giving us some privacy.
Dressing, we help each other with our armor. Like that day at the brothel, I stare at Becka's neck tattoo, which she quickly covers. She never told me what it meant. Even now, my curiosity is killing me.
"You ever going to tell me what it means?"
With a playful grin, she walks up to me. "Ask me again tomorrow. Maybe I'll answer." With a quick kiss, she struts out of the tent, taking her bow and quiver with her.
Rushing out of the tent, I catch up to Becka and Tristan, and we join the stampede marching to the gate. Winter rains brought fog and clouds the area in a white mist. Though we can't see for leagues, the black banners of the mercenary army are easy enough to spot.
In the market square, the men whisper to one another. When Captain Locke howls at them to shut up, we all look to the battlements. Dressed in Imperial armor, Iona looks down at those gathered.
"I trust you all had an eventful night?" she jokes, offering a smile and getting a few nods and laughs. "Good, we've been tasked to clear the bodies from the district. As well as covering any sewer grates we can find. Salvage what you can, but don't pointlessly burden yourselves."
Triana and Hahaku join her, "Archers and Javilens will join me on the rooftops," Triana says.
"The rest will be with me on the ground," Hahaku says. "We will go street by street, burning the dead and covering grates as we go. If all goes well, we will have the district cleared by day's end."
The Legion Commander joins them, dressed for battle. Even without his arm, he has managed to fasten his shield to his body. At our rear, the remains of the tenth stand ready for battle. The desire for payback is painted on their faces like warpaint. Should the enemy come, they will join us in battle.
Reaching into his belt, the Commander pulls out a small piece of parchment. "Our enemies are on the move. And the Bloody Bear is at their head." This news is worrying, but I hold my tongue for now. "While they may outnumber us, we have the advantage of the terrain. If they breach these walls, we will funnel them into a wall of shields."
The trenches limit our enemies' movements, but the fog is thick and could easily hide their forces. A fist hits my arm, and I see Becka smiling. "Don't worry; I'll watch your back."
"We both will." Tristan joins us, handing Becka a hand full of arrows. "Here, Sophia forged these for you. They're armor-piercing, should go through most armor." He then gives me an imperial short sword. "Take a look."
I draw the blade, marveling at the black onyx steel. I sheath the sword. "Where did you get this? You can't find black steel in the Empire." I tie it to my belt, debating if having two swords is a good idea.
Before Tristan can answer me, one of the other mercs elbows him in the ribs. "Would you shut up!" He gestures to the Commanders staring down at us. Iona's eyes dig into me, and I cave under her gaze.
Now with our full attention, she has an animal carcass brought to her. Pouring something on it, she ignites it, creating an icy blue flame. Seconds later, it's gone, little more than ashes in the wind.
"We'll burn the dead with this. But we have precious little of it. Those of us in the streets will gather the bodies in the open. Once doused with this mixture, archers will ignite them." She dawns her helmet and puts on her mask. Jumping down from the battlements, she gives a reassuring look to all of us. "Move out!"
The gate's heavy chains go stiff, pulling the door open. A haze of green dances at our feet. As if the dead were crawling away from the district, only to fade into nothingness moments later.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a copper coin split in two. On its plain surface, I had cut a simple triangle with a line through it. Standing at the side of the gate, one of the mercs holds a bowl full of these half coins. It will be back in my pocket by nightfall if all goes well. Putting on my mask and helmet, I walk into the fog.
In these dead streets, the results of the attack bleed into cobblestones. The victims huddled together, crimson tears running down their faces. They knew they would die, but they died together; there's comfort in that.
One of the mercs in our group draws his knife, ready to carve out a new bladder. When he makes the first cut, a pungent gas is released. The organ is like its owner, green and rotten, making it unusable.
With that idea gone, we start to rummage through the dead. There's very little we can salvage, but it's better than leaving it behind. A whistle grabs my attention; on the rooftops, Becka points to an open area down the street.
I grab one of the dead and start to drag them to the open area. In this fog-covered nightmare, the ghoulish sight is in every street and alley. People tried to claw at doors and windows, desperate to escape, only for their neighbors to abandon them.
I throw the body on the pile, and the others follow suit. We amass so many dead, but there are still many more to gather. A loud thud startles me, and before I draw my blade, Hahaku points to a pile of rubble now covering a sewer grate. "Remember?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm not used to how quiet it is." Looking around the open square, men pour oil on piles of bodies, adding Iona's mixture. One word from Hahaku and the pyres burn their blue hue. Despite the moist air, the fires rage on, creating steam that dances with the fog.
"We're too exposed." Hahaku walks around the square, eyeing each street and alleyway. "The main roads are easy to cover, but all these alleys." He whistles to his men. "Have the alleys boxed off; we don't have time to find every grate."
The tent flaps open, and a cloaked woman enters. At first, I thought she was one of the camps laborers, but her mask is coated in delicate gold trim.
Her cloak falls to her feet, and the maiden removes her mask, revealing herself to be Tatanya. Placing her mask down, she undresses, allowing me to see her lovely figure. Like a goddess, she walks toward me, offering the sweet taste of her lips.
"Why are you here?" Becka tries to burn a hole through Tatanya's head with a glare. "Aren't you worried you'll be mistaken for a whore?"
I expected Tatanya to spit hot coals, but she laughs it off, sliding herself into my lap. "They couldn't afford me. Unlike you." She moves her hips working her magic on me, and I can feel Becka's nails digging into my back. "Colton is my husband; he deserves loving from his wife before marching into the unknown."
Edging on the verge of release, Tatanya climaxes without me, biting down on her lip to hide a moan. Sweat glistens off her body, and I catch her before she falls out of my lap. Like a ragdoll, she hangs loose in my arms, breathing heavily. "Got you," I say.
"Nice catch, soldier boy." Pulling herself up, her painted fingers intertwine with mine, rubbing the scar Becka had left on my hand with her thump. Then her finger dances across my chest, resting on the mark left by the poisoned bolt that nearly killed me. "My God, so many." She continues tracing each scar, worry escaping her lips. "You don't need to fight anymore."
"Tatanya."
She forces me to look at her. "Apologize to my Uncle, and I'll vouch for you and your Aunt. You're nobles now. You don't need to die like dogs." She takes my hands and slides them across her body. "We can be a family." She kisses me.
Again, the Empire tempts me with acceptance, and all I have to do is give up a part of myself. The fog creeps into the tent, and the uncertainty of the future comes with it. Tristan, Hahaku, Becka, and the others are family, just like my Aunts and sister. "I can't, Tatanya. I won't abandon them."
Sympathy turns to anger. Tatanya crawls off of me and dresses. "I offer you a way out, and you throw it in my face." Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, she covers her face with a mask. "Once a mongrel, always a mongrel." Her words cut deep, but I've gotten used to hearing them. One last look from those eyes, and she disappears into the mist.
A pair of fingers tiptoe across my back. "Finally. I thought that she'd never leave." Pulling me down, Becka crawls on top of me, and we start a game of our own. Sliding her hips back and forth, we savor the moment for as long as we can. But like all good things, it's over far too soon.
Becka collapses on top of me, trying to catch her breath. Head resting on my chest, I tuck a few locks of hair behind her ear. Staring at me with those beautiful green eyes, my hand goes for her arm. We had her slave tag reforged into an armband, the Madames stone necklace acting as its centerpiece.
She sits on top of me. "Are you going to keep your promise? When all this is said and done, you will make a home for all of us, right?" That's a promise I want to keep, but I'm worried I can't honor it.
The glint from her armband distracts me. "It suits you." My hand crawls across her body, resting on her cheek. "Becka, I..."
The tent flaps fly open, and Tristan stands there with a grin. Dawning his hide armor and plate, he gestures to the gate. "You two better hurry up. Don't want to get chewed out again." He closes the flaps giving us some privacy.
Dressing, we help each other with our armor. Like that day at the brothel, I stare at Becka's neck tattoo, which she quickly covers. She never told me what it meant. Even now, my curiosity is killing me.
"You ever going to tell me what it means?"
With a playful grin, she walks up to me. "Ask me again tomorrow. Maybe I'll answer." With a quick kiss, she struts out of the tent, taking her bow and quiver with her.
Rushing out of the tent, I catch up to Becka and Tristan, and we join the stampede marching to the gate. Winter rains brought fog and clouds the area in a white mist. Though we can't see for leagues, the black banners of the mercenary army are easy enough to spot.
In the market square, the men whisper to one another. When Captain Locke howls at them to shut up, we all look to the battlements. Dressed in Imperial armor, Iona looks down at those gathered.
"I trust you all had an eventful night?" she jokes, offering a smile and getting a few nods and laughs. "Good, we've been tasked to clear the bodies from the district. As well as covering any sewer grates we can find. Salvage what you can, but don't pointlessly burden yourselves."
Triana and Hahaku join her, "Archers and Javilens will join me on the rooftops," Triana says.
"The rest will be with me on the ground," Hahaku says. "We will go street by street, burning the dead and covering grates as we go. If all goes well, we will have the district cleared by day's end."
The Legion Commander joins them, dressed for battle. Even without his arm, he has managed to fasten his shield to his body. At our rear, the remains of the tenth stand ready for battle. The desire for payback is painted on their faces like warpaint. Should the enemy come, they will join us in battle.
Reaching into his belt, the Commander pulls out a small piece of parchment. "Our enemies are on the move. And the Bloody Bear is at their head." This news is worrying, but I hold my tongue for now. "While they may outnumber us, we have the advantage of the terrain. If they breach these walls, we will funnel them into a wall of shields."
The trenches limit our enemies' movements, but the fog is thick and could easily hide their forces. A fist hits my arm, and I see Becka smiling. "Don't worry; I'll watch your back."
"We both will." Tristan joins us, handing Becka a hand full of arrows. "Here, Sophia forged these for you. They're armor-piercing, should go through most armor." He then gives me an imperial short sword. "Take a look."
I draw the blade, marveling at the black onyx steel. I sheath the sword. "Where did you get this? You can't find black steel in the Empire." I tie it to my belt, debating if having two swords is a good idea.
Before Tristan can answer me, one of the other mercs elbows him in the ribs. "Would you shut up!" He gestures to the Commanders staring down at us. Iona's eyes dig into me, and I cave under her gaze.
Now with our full attention, she has an animal carcass brought to her. Pouring something on it, she ignites it, creating an icy blue flame. Seconds later, it's gone, little more than ashes in the wind.
"We'll burn the dead with this. But we have precious little of it. Those of us in the streets will gather the bodies in the open. Once doused with this mixture, archers will ignite them." She dawns her helmet and puts on her mask. Jumping down from the battlements, she gives a reassuring look to all of us. "Move out!"
The gate's heavy chains go stiff, pulling the door open. A haze of green dances at our feet. As if the dead were crawling away from the district, only to fade into nothingness moments later.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a copper coin split in two. On its plain surface, I had cut a simple triangle with a line through it. Standing at the side of the gate, one of the mercs holds a bowl full of these half coins. It will be back in my pocket by nightfall if all goes well. Putting on my mask and helmet, I walk into the fog.
In these dead streets, the results of the attack bleed into cobblestones. The victims huddled together, crimson tears running down their faces. They knew they would die, but they died together; there's comfort in that.
One of the mercs in our group draws his knife, ready to carve out a new bladder. When he makes the first cut, a pungent gas is released. The organ is like its owner, green and rotten, making it unusable.
With that idea gone, we start to rummage through the dead. There's very little we can salvage, but it's better than leaving it behind. A whistle grabs my attention; on the rooftops, Becka points to an open area down the street.
I grab one of the dead and start to drag them to the open area. In this fog-covered nightmare, the ghoulish sight is in every street and alley. People tried to claw at doors and windows, desperate to escape, only for their neighbors to abandon them.
I throw the body on the pile, and the others follow suit. We amass so many dead, but there are still many more to gather. A loud thud startles me, and before I draw my blade, Hahaku points to a pile of rubble now covering a sewer grate. "Remember?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm not used to how quiet it is." Looking around the open square, men pour oil on piles of bodies, adding Iona's mixture. One word from Hahaku and the pyres burn their blue hue. Despite the moist air, the fires rage on, creating steam that dances with the fog.
"We're too exposed." Hahaku walks around the square, eyeing each street and alleyway. "The main roads are easy to cover, but all these alleys." He whistles to his men. "Have the alleys boxed off; we don't have time to find every grate."
Character List
Colton: Main POV character
Iona: Colton's Aunt
Becka: Northern POW
Tristan: Colton's childhood friend and Hahaku's son
Hahaku: Mercenary Captain and close family friend
Triana: Mercenary Captain and old friend of Iona
Locke: Mercenary Captain
The Commander: Leader of what remains of the Tenth Legion
Tatanya: Colton's wife
I ask reviewers to provide a minimum of one thing they liked and disliked. If you see errors or something that should be fixed, please don't hesitate to point them out. I can't improve otherwise.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Colton: Main POV character
Iona: Colton's Aunt
Becka: Northern POW
Tristan: Colton's childhood friend and Hahaku's son
Hahaku: Mercenary Captain and close family friend
Triana: Mercenary Captain and old friend of Iona
Locke: Mercenary Captain
The Commander: Leader of what remains of the Tenth Legion
Tatanya: Colton's wife
I ask reviewers to provide a minimum of one thing they liked and disliked. If you see errors or something that should be fixed, please don't hesitate to point them out. I can't improve otherwise.
Artwork by meg119 at FanArtReview.com
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