TWO: PREPARATION

  The remaining eight men and women of the file came in a hurry, their formation still tightly packed together, discipline unbroken. Antonius led them from the front, charging to the gates as Marcus and Cassius looked down on them from the walls. All their eyes looked over the mostly dissolved corpse of the imp, the creature’s blood having started to chew through its own flesh.

  “Marcus! Report!” Antonius spoke in clipped tones as he drew in deep breaths, winded from the hard march, as he looked up at the duo.

  “Everyone’s dead, sir. That thing was a summoned imp. It attacked Null when he came out to grab our supplies. They’re out there,” Marcus explained succinctly with a point of his chin toward the outlying area. Antonius turned to look toward the countryside they’d just left, the darkness along both sides of the road impenetrable to mortal eyes.

  “Everyone into the granary. Seal that gate,” Antonius ordered instantly as he turned fully to face the countryside, shield coming up to cover his body, leaving just his eyes exposed. The veterans walked in, Antonius last, and slammed the gate shut. The single thin wooden bar that had kept the gate sealed was quickly slotted into its bars.

  “No one moves without a partner. Marcus and Cassius stick together. Gracchus and Pius go and find something to barricade this door. Valeria and Marcella are on gate watch. Livia and Cornelius, I want you on the walls, full patrol around it. Scipio, you are with me. Marcus, where are the bodies?” Antonius said in a quick barrage of orders.

  “With the class stone. End of the road,” Marcus replied. Antonius waved at them to follow as everyone broke off to do what the file leader had ordered. Cassius climbed down the few steps needed to get off the rampart, falling in behind Antonius as the four of them marched toward the class stone.

  “No survivors at all?” Antonius asked again.

  “None that I could find. After that imp attacked Null, I didn’t want to separate to search the buildings. The room is stuffed full of corpses, likely most of the granary; there aren’t many folk living inside of these granaries,” Marcus said. Antonius just grunted.

  “The imp, what was it like? How did it fight?” Scipio asked. Cassius realized the veteran legionnaire was talking to him and responded quickly.

  “Claws and an oversized jaw, sir. Attacked like any animal, but its blood was corrosive. My skin grew red and itchy, and my blade began to mottle. It washed off without problem, and once diluted, it didn’t pose a problem,” Cassius reported. Scipio grunted and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the short trip to the reinforced building.

  “I’ll watch the door, sir,” Cassius volunteered, not wishing to go back into the butcher’s hall.

  “No one alone, Null. Stick with us,” Antonius snapped, and Cassius bit his tongue in irritation as he stepped back into the malevolently glowing room.

  “What dark work is this?” Scipio whispered, shock and disgust rampant in his voice as he looked over the sacrifices. Cassius couldn’t keep his own eyes from looking around the room and the dozens of pinned bodies nailed to the stone walls. Red lights burned from the strange markings, evil pulsed from them, and made Cassius’s skin itch.

  “That corpse has no marking by it,” Antonius said, and Cassius looked up to see where the file leader was pointing at a mutilated woman. Cassius swallowed hard but stepped closer, looking at the wall around her body and seeing the flakes of dried blood that still clung to the stone.

  “There were, sir. The writing faded,” Cassius informed them as he pulled back away from the stone, glad to not be so close to the corpse. A stench had begun to rise from the body; it reminded Cassius of a bog not far from the training grounds of the legion.

  “Marcus?” Antonius asked. Cassius felt another spear of irritation through him at his file leader’s question. How they didn’t believe him about the most simple of things.

  “The boy’s right. Every one of the bodies had those cursed symbols around them.” Marcus’s words were met with a nod as Antonius looked over the bodies, his face carved marble that revealed nothing.

  “We can not know for certain, but it could be that Cassius killing the creature broke the spell. Scipio, I want you to copy these markings and write down everything you see,” Antonius ordered. Scipio groaned but pulled his pack off and pulled out his stylus and a soft piece of wax before placing himself in front of the closest body and quickly started sketching it.

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  “Marcus, take Cassius and watch the gates. When Scipio finishes, we will go and check the grain bank. When we ensure the bank is secured, we shall reinforce the walls and gate.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get everyone there,” Marcus acknowledged. Marcus grabbed at Cassius’ shoulder and tugged him out of the room with him. The cool night air was refreshing on Cassius’ fevered cheeks, brushing away the stench that filled the class stone room and helping settle his stomach.

  “Foul work in there. Let’s get back to the gate before something else catches Antonius’ eye.” Marcus almost sounded comradely there, without the venom or disdain that he usually threw at Cassius.

  There were signs that Grachus and Pius had already begun their work. Doors had been ripped free of their frames and piled up against the gate. A pair of carts had been wedged in upside down. The two men grunted and growled as they each wrestled a heavy barrel toward the gate, veins popping out on their necks as they strained with their load.

  “Hand, brother?” Grachus asked, his deep voice strange against the silence of the granary. Marcus grunted and slapped Cassius’ ribs, pointed toward the two men as he broke off and headed to round everyone else up.

  As the night deepened and then began to lighten again, Cassius worked with the rest of the file as they found everything not nailed down to slam fresh against the thin gates. Sweat poured from Cassius' face while the higher-leveled men simply grunted and strained for a moment as they wrestled with heavy pieces of masonry or barrels that Cassius wouldn’t be able to move without straining something.

  “We will find and kill these beasts. Feed them to you, and you shall go before the stones and receive its blessings,” Gracchus told Cassius in between trips. Cassius had thrown a hand against the side of one of the buildings, breathing hard as sweat stung his eyes, ran thin over his lips, and left salt on his tongue.

  “I eagerly await the day. What is it like? To receive blessings?” Cassius asked, mainly to stretch out the impromptu break. Gracchus shrugged a broad shoulder, his dark eyes turned upward to peer into the lightening sky.

  “For a brief moment, it is like feeling whole. As if you had never known pain or loss. It is addictive to know that split second. When the pain is gone.” Cassius stared at the older man in shock, the most that Gracchus had ever said, and he had spun words like silk.

  “Don’t get him started. He’ll spout rhetoric all night,” Pius barked, eyes dark with anger as he marched up and smacked the flat of his hand against Cassius' chest, the sound of flesh on metal loud.

  Beyond the walls, a screech rose to echo the slap, harsh and shrill. The hairs on Cassius’ neck rose as every legionnaire froze as they looked beyond the fortified gates and outward.

  “To arms,” Antonius said calmly. The file leader himself was in full armor, helmet still seated firmly on his head, with shield and spear in his hands. Cassius had to find his own helmet as the rest of the soldiers looked for the pieces of equipment that had been taken off and placed carefully close to hand. Within a minute, all ten of them stood shoulder to shoulder along the walls above the gate.

  “Do you see anything?” Cassius asked Marcus who was next to him. Marcus stood at the end of the line, Cassius next to him, with Gracchus on the other side of Cassius' shoulder. The two veteran soldiers were sturdy and strong, there to ensure that Cassius didn’t break beneath the strain of war.

  They had made sure to tell him repeatedly what awaited him if he fell out of line during combat. The legions made sure that the price of cowardice was worse than a quick death on monster claws.

  “No. Now shut up.” Marcus returned with his usual growling disdain, and it was almost a relief. The hints of camaraderie had felt wrong, like a belt that was too tight.

  Bare hints of dawn were starting to streak across the night sky, pinks and lavenders combating the onyx, silhouettes made apparent as the road slowly unveiled itself to Cassius’ eyes.

  It was covered in the same type of creature he’d already battled. Larger than the first one, covered in muscle with long strings of drool that stretched out to the ground as they walked in unison toward the walls of the granary.

  “The boy killed one?” A woman’s voice came from somewhere to his side. It sounded like Valeria, but the tension in her voice made it warble unnaturally.

  “Silence on the line. Shields to the front,” Antonius ordered, and they all moved as one. Shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, they formed a wall above the gate, spears resting on the gap between the long shields.

  “No skills until ordered. Understood?” Antonius asked, his voice rose as he questioned them, and they all responded with an affirmative roar. The sound rolled out, defiance against the darkness, against the claws and hunger of the world as the monsters began to walk faster toward the walls.

  “Full count. Marcus and Pius confirm,” Antonius said. Both of the men responded within seconds.

  “Thirty-seven, sir!” Cassius frowned, glad the veterans couldn’t see his look as he thought back to the room filled with corpses. There weren't thirty-seven bodies wedged in that room.

  “Shit. They went and made more of the beasts,” Marcus groaned, hardly loud enough for Cassius to hear.

  “The blood is corrosive. Careful,” Cassius reminded everyone, speaking up before his courage could leave him. Antonius didn’t snap at him, and he sighed as he realized he’d done right.

  “Think these beasts will end me? Not today, not tomorrow. Discipline defeats might,” Gracchus spoke to himself, hyping himself up as the beasts began to run, short legs pumping as they hunched their shoulders forward. Cast behind them, the sun broke the horizon, a sliver of light that speared into the defender’s eyes and caused more than one to curse just as the imps leapt and grabbed onto the wall and began to climb.