Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn (46 page)

“Hold on,” Simcane yelled while trying unsuccessfully to veer away from the new hole. Their machine dropped forward and bounced and rocked with such violence it battered the team against the sides. Simcane’s injured shoulder slammed against the unyielding metal and he winced. Another final, fierce bounce before they miraculously cleared the hole. Simcane’s head thumped against the ceiling, wrenching his neck.

He gathered his wits. The machine continued forward.

“Almost there,” he said as the others moaned from the floor.

Another explosion rocked the front side of the metal beast. The crew dropped slightly and violently toward Simcane’s side. One of the wheels flew past the front slits but the machine dug into the ground and continued limping forward.

Simcane opened his door; Gillian did hers as well. She leaped and rolled through the grass. B.J. followed and then Willum. Eldon jumped next and landed in full stride with his sword already drawn. He downed two Tek soldiers before he lost momentum.

Simcane crouched, preparing to dive into the fracas. Before he leaped, he scanned the battlefield. Near one of the rotted, wooden bridges, a line of Tek soldiers stood next to their fancy, wheeled weapons. They pointed them at a single Epertasian with red tentacles waving above his head.

Simcane’s machine approached the edge. He lunged from the cab and tumbled along the ground. The metal beast disappeared over the drop off while Simcane’s momentum carried him over as well. He grabbed for something, anything, and clutched one of the Teks’ chained ladders that stretched across. The metal beast exploded below, sending a fireball out of the ravine. The heat would have singed his neck hair if it hadn’t been burned off already. He pulled himself out of the heat to steady ground.

He surveyed the fight. Some of the exhausted Epertasian army had crossed the bridges but were thinning and giving up ground rapidly. To his left, his team was overrun by an ocean of Tek soldiers. To his right, Rasi was hidden beneath their masses with only his thrashing tentacles above the fray.

But as the battle seemed most dire, a roar bellowed from the distant northern horizon. The Tek army froze almost at once and turned toward the farmlands. The roar echoed with the beautiful battle cry of ten thousand fresh Epertasian soldiers, growing louder and more intimidating with every hurried step.

The late-arriving army approached with Terik and Andon leading the way. The Teks cowered backward against the bridge-crossing, battle-weary Epertasians who reached deep within themselves to attack with renewed vigor.

Simcane’s team fought off their assailants before chasing them northward. Simcane raced to join Rasi’s fight. Rasi appeared from within the Tek swarm as they backed away, confused and defeated. With little other choice, they turned and raced toward the new northern fight.

The Teks were surrounded; the fight had become fair, or at least fair through Epertasian eyes. Across the ravine, the Teks removed their worthless armor and worked their way back across the bridges to join their comrades. Jarrah, on horseback, led the weakened Epertasian soldiers as they chased from behind. Once he cleared the bridge, he ordered his men to continue as he diverted to Rasi and Simcane with a giant grin.

“Sir, your plan is working,” he yelled. Simcane agreed.

Rasi ignored the compliments. As Jarrah neared, Rasi snatched his sleeve, yanked him from his horse, and galloped toward the west and Alina.

“All you had to do was ask,” Jarrah mumbled as he drew his sword. He turned to Simcane and looked him up and down. “No hard feelings, big fella?”

Simcane grinned. The rest of his team approached from behind. With a satisfying nod, he led the men toward the fight.

Alina and Dru hadn’t gotten far as the fresh tracks from their dragging metal nets revealed. There were hundreds of similar trails, all going in the same direction. Rasi could only wonder why the Teks took so many Epertasians instead of killing them. Probably for slavery, he concluded and that knowledge pushed him faster.

As he cleared a steep dune he saw his prize – a retreating fortress as big as a castle. Epertasian soldiers, hundreds of them, walked alongside with chains holding them near the fortress. Tek guards rode their two-wheeled machines alongside, whipping any of the men who fell out of line.

Rasi saw no more need for stealth and galloped toward them, his straps snapping for their next fight. When the Teks saw him, two guards circled around. They never got close. Rasi’s straps left them bloodied in the sand, heartbeats away from death.

The captive Epertasians cheered while the remaining Teks fled into the back of the machine. Rasi leaped onto the rear of the fortress. He wasn’t so foolish as to not recognize an unlocked door as an ambush, but he no longer cared. If that was their plan, then his rage welcomed it.

“They got Queen Alina,” one of the chained soldiers shouted as Rasi entered and closed the door.

Instead of an ambush, he was met by a poorly lit, narrow staircase. He climbed it with enough noise to announce his arrival. At the top, two Tek guards backed away from their post in a manner more inviting than fearful. They lowered their weapons and their heads and nodded toward a set of massive double doors.

Rasi passed them with trepidation. His straps lunged for their throats but he called them back. He reached for the handles. The guards nodded for him to continue. He grasped the brass ring handle while bracing for the inevitable blast or attack, or whatever they had planned. But nothing came. He shoved the door inward and then stepped back.

“Come in,” an old, grizzled voice commanded.

R
asi stepped into a magnificent ballroom with ceilings nearly as high as the fortress itself. The carpet was red and cushy beneath his feet. The walls were lined with granite statues as high as the ceiling itself of armored soldiers, likely immortalized Tek legends.

A Tek stood against the distant wall next to a statue wearing his likeness. Not far from that soldier stood another Tek. Behind him, Dru hung by his wrists. The Epertasian had been beaten and was barely conscious.

Next to Dru, Alina was chained to the floor like a dog. Her cheeks were swollen and purple, her fingertips crusted with blood.

The heavily armored Tek commander said, “Forgive my Epertasian. I learn recent.”

Alina yelled, “Rasi! He has weapons on his ar …”

The Tek bastard kicked her jaw before she could finish. She crumbled.

Rasi emitted a feral growl. He breathed deeply through his nose with an audible hate, drew his sword, and stepped forward.

The Tek chuckled as he strutted past his first-in-command. “Rasi, huh? Since you here, you must be worthy.” He then spoke something in his native tongue followed by the name Rayles.

The other Tek, the one he called Rayles, swung his sword at Dru’s restraints. Dru thudded to the ground. Rasi took another unsure step.

The head Tek spoke in Epertasian. “I am Commander Zaffka. If you defeat me, you go free.” He lifted his helmet from its position against his hip and fastened it over his scar-covered head.

Dru struggled to his knees.

“He, however,” Zaffka said, “should be punished.”

Panic gripped Rasi’s chest. He ran toward Dru. With the speed of a serpent, Zaffka spun and drove his blade deep into Dru’s chest.

Alina screamed.

Rasi stopped in horror.

Dru stiffened, momentarily, and then collapsed onto his face.

Zaffka turned back with a glare. “Now you know the stakes.”

Rasi stared across the room into Zaffka’s evil eyes.

The two combatants raced at each other, each eager to distribute his own justice. Rasi’s straps crackled above him. Zaffka’s armor hissed around him. The Tek commander outstretched his left arm and it recoiled in thunder. Blood exploded from the end of one of Rasi’s straps.

Zaffka stuck out his other arm and quickly sent another blast. Rasi jerked to the side. The blast grazed his chest, burning him, but he didn’t relent and closed the gap.

He slammed into Zaffka, jarring his own sword loose and to the floor in the process. He wasn’t concerned at the loss of his sword; he knew it wouldn’t help against the armor. Zaffka rolled to one knee and fired another shot.

The projectile clipped Rasi’s thigh. He cried out. His straps grabbed both of Zaffka’s wrists and outstretched them like he was on a cross. Rasi jumped forward, grabbing the Tek’s helmet with both hands. He grunted as he pulled, but it was too tight. Zaffka drew back and kicked him in the balls. Rasi crumbled to his knees.

The other straps wrapped Zaffka’s waist. With a grunt, they hurled him across the room.

No,
Rasi yelled in his mind.
I need to be close
.

Zaffka shook his head, stunned, and staggered to his feet. He slid a bluish blade from his back. Rasi picked up his sword again.

They ran at each other. Zaffka swung his blade and its blue steel sliced through Rasi’s sword like it was made of water. The blade swiped across the top of his head. His straps parted as the weapon soared past, almost cutting them in half.

Rasi yanked Zaffka’s leg, knocking him to the floor, and then leaped at him. Zaffka swung his blade from the ground. Seeing the coming assault, Rasi’s straps wrapped around one of the statues, stopping his plunge short of Zaffka’s sword. His straps yanked backward on the statues, catapulting him out of range.

He landed and planted his feet. His straps strained. He strained. The statue wobbled. The gigantic stone figure tipped toward Zaffka. The Tek sprang to his feet. As the statue tumbled, he swiped his sword blindly above his head, slicing the statue in half. He covered his head with his arms. The two hunks of granite crashed to the carpet on either side of him.

The battle raged with each man giving and taking in deadly competition. Rasi’s face bled; his muscles ached. Zaffka sucked wind and danced away as if stalling. He complimented Rasi’s heart and Rasi spat on him. Zaffka backed away, tired.

This was Rasi’s chance and he lunged. For the first time in the battle, instead of driving forward, Zaffka retreated and tumbled over a chunk of the demolished statue. As he fell, he swung his sword. Rasi’s straps batted his heavy arm away. His magical blade slipped from his hand and landed in the plush carpet beside his face. Rasi landed on top of him.

Zaffka heaved his chest in deep, deliberate bursts. Rasi postured up. He prepared to rip the Tek’s helmet away. Before he could, his straps rose into the air, their attention diverted.

“Get back, Rayles,” Zaffka shouted in Tek, between gasps. “Do not interfere.”

Rasi glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see the other officer back away from the fray. Rasi reached for the blue blade. His exhaustion made it a struggle to even lift the light sword, but he did and raised it high above his head.

Zaffka whispered, “In my day, boy,” pant, pant, “I’d have killed,” pant, “a freak like you.” Then he wheezed and coughed.

Rasi curled his lip.
Well, it’s not your day.
He flexed for the killing blow. However, something stopped him before he delivered the strike. It was a sinking feeling in his gut, a feeling he had learned to listen to over the years. It was Zaffka’s cough. Something had changed in it. The corner of the Tek commander’s lips curved upward as his cough melded into laughter.

Rasi hesitated.

Zaffka’s eyes lowered to Rasi’s waist. Rasi followed his gaze.

He got me.

The Tek’s fist and his noise-making weapon was jammed against Rasi’s gut.

There was no turning back. Rasi drove the blade downward but Zaffka’s arm flinched before the killing blow could be delivered. He didn’t feel the blast as much as he heard Alina’s scream. His body kicked back violently from his foe. The sword slipped from his hands and flew into the air. As he sailed backward, the world slowed around him. His adrenaline masked the pain of the new hole in his gut but it couldn’t overcome the knowledge of his failure.

Before he landed, one of his straps lunged, snatched the magical sword’s hilt from the nothingness, and whirled it around. Zaffka’s eyes opened wide. The end of the blue blade disappeared for an instant on one side of Zaffka’s armored chest and then reemerged from the other. Like a true warrior, he didn’t make a sound.