Iron Blooded

I met with the other Knights in front of the House of Refuge. The carriages were already parked out front, the doors held open by anxious-looking footmen.

Ser Connel spun towards me, looking agitated.

“There you are, man,” he said. “I was searching for you. Lord Blackthorne issued orders to arm yourself and gather your men. You are to report to the wall South of the gate. With haste,” he added, before turning to issue orders to a set of guardsmen.

I recognized the dismissal.

Pulling myself into the nearest carriage I began unfastening the clasps to my coat. By the time the horses clopped to a stop I was already stripped down to my trousers and bare foot. I sprinted through the square and into the courtyard, boots in hand.

Gills greeted me halfway through.

“Will,” he said, his eyes serious. “What’s going on? We heard the bells but nobody will tell us anything, not even the guards.”

“Orks,” I said shortly. Gills's face fell. “I thought we had days,” he whispered. “I thought we had time to prepare.”

There was pain in his voice.

I dropped my boots and cloak down on top of my pack and grabbed my armor from my tent. As I began pulling on my Troll hide tunic I asked him the question that had been nagging at me.

“What’s going on, Giller?" I asked. "And don’t try to hide it from me I can see it in your face.”

Gills swallowed and gave a pained smile. There was a reluctance in him that was hard to read.

“Vera,” he murmured eventually. “Her and I... we didn’t get enough time."

“You’ll see her again,” I said. “I’m sure she understands that-“

“She’s pregnant,” Gills blurted. I paused halfway through pulling on my chain mail.

“Are you sure?”

Gills nodded and tears stung his eyes. He ripped a hand through his hair and let out a breath.

“I mean to marry her,” he said. “When all this is over. But I need your oath that no matter what happens we cannot let this city fall. We can’t let-“ His voice cracked and he looked away jaw clenching.

I stepped forward and gripped my friend's shoulder. We stood in the courtyard as men ran around us and fire lit the sky beyond the walls.

“You have it,” I told him. Gills met my gaze and nodded solemnly. Then the moment passed and I went back to armoring.

I was fully equipped only minutes later when Hade and the others came clanking into the courtyard. Bjorn and Astrid followed close on their heels.

“Ser William,” said Bjorn, nodding his head. The Berserker wore dark blue and black warpaint smeared across his face. His axe, a legendary weapon, was clutched in his hand.

“You're with me,” I told him. “Where are Draxus and Kato?”

“Already on the wall Ser. They were pulled earlier to share the watch with the City guard.”

I grunted and turned away.

“Then we’ll have to pick them up as we go.”

The sound of the bells was an ominous symphony of war. We jogged through the streets past houses whose doors had been boarded up, and shops that were now closed and locked.

The silent streets were in contrast to the earlier vibrancy of the city. Out of the darkness appeared tight groups of refugees. They fled up the cobbles streets carrying little more than cloth sacks and camp supplies.

They passed quickly, but many nodded to us as they went. One woman pressed a rose into my hand and murmured.

"Fight well Ser Knight."

"They honor you," said Astrid. "They know we will fight for them and keep them safe."

I grimaced.

"Let's keep moving."

Along the southern wall, a set of sheer wooden steps led up the battlements. Hade puffed from beside me.

“Fuck me for saying Ser William, but your endurance stats are much higher than my own.”

“You’ll get there,” I said. Then grimaced. “Something tells me we’ll have our share of experience points before the siege is over.”

Jorgen looked a bit pale at the thought. We made our way across the wooden planks of the walkway and up the stone steps leading to the battlements. Several soldiers wearing kettle helmets and carrying long bows marched by.

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They barely spared us glances.

At our arrival, a group of soldiers turned to regard us. One of them shouted to a man leaning over a crate filled with torches. The man twisted around to squint at us. Then he grinned.

“Will of Blackbriar, as I live and breathe.” He stepped over, took my hand, and began pumping it enthusiastically.

“Oh, the boys will love this. We had a bet running on whether or not you were a myth or the real thing.”

His eyes landed on my snake scale gauntlets and widened.

“Is that what I think it is? You defeated a real basilisk?”

I could see the eagerness in the other men's faces as they listened in with rapt attention. Inwardly I sighed, but I allowed none of my discomfort to show. Right now, the men needed all the morale they could get.

“That’s right,” I said. “And I'm here to test my strength against the Host. About time I added a few Ork horns to a mount in my tent.”

The soldiers laughed. I scanned the stats of the man who had greeted me.

“First Sergeant, is it? I’m Will, and these are my men. We’re here to help you man the walls - whatever the hell that entails.”

“Aye, But you can call me Locklan Ser William. I’ve guarded these walls since I was barely sixteen. I was lucky the guard took me in - kept me out of trouble.”

"Our job is to spread out along the walls and keep the watch. If we spot anything unusual we call it out. If the siege begins, well. The men of the garrison will join us, and it will fall to our forces to hold these walls."

"Fair enough."

As my soldiers got settled I stepped to the edge of the parapet. Beyond the wall, the burning plains stretched out into the horizon. At first, I didn’t register what I was seeing. Then, the true scale of it hit me and my eyes adjusted.

Fires, hundreds of them, spread across the desert like an ocean of flames. From their flickering light, I could see the Orks.

Hulking brutish creatures with horns like a bull. They stood at least eight feet tall and their bodies rippled with the corded muscle of a race bred to one purpose. To kill men.

The host itself was massive, stretching away into the darkness. War beasts prowled, armored outriders sitting on their backs. Behind them, crudely built siege towers were being pulled by herds of oxen and what looked like…

“Human Slaves,” breathed Hade from beside me. “Throne, they really are monsters.”

He was right. Two lines of human slaves were shackled together behind the oxen. Even from this distance, I could see that they were worn ragged, with torn clothes and dirt-smeared faces.

Every once In a while the sound of a whip cracking could be heard, and the slaves would flinch. The Host came to a grinding halt in the distance.

The dust settled over the plains, stirred by their passage.

The sound of a beast's growls could be heard and moments later a large Sand Drake came barreling out of the dust and smoke.

The beast came to a stop on a small hill not 50 paces from the walls.

On its back sat an enormous Ork. His Horns were long and curved at the ends. Scars marked his body and when I looked closely I could see human skulls tied to his saddle.

He threw back his head and bellowed into the air. A long drawn-out sound pierced the night like a blade.

When he was done, he reigned in his mount and paced it up and down the wall.

“Where is your leader?” he said. His speech was halting and guttural, but the meaning was clear. I saw the men around me tense with uncertainty.

“Tell him that we have a gift for him." growled the Ork and that we would treat with him."

He gestured one hand backwards and moments later I saw shadows In the dust.

Through the glow of the torchlight, silhouettes became visible. Two red-skinned Orks marched forward, holding between them a chain.

On the end of the chain stumbled four human prisoners, a woman, and three haggard-looking men. I clenched my jaw as the chain was yanked and they were sent stumbling forward.

“I am here,” came the clear voice.

Blackthorne stepped unto the parapet.

He was dressed for war in dark armor, his red and black cloak swirling out behind him. He held his unsheathed great sword propped over one shoulder, and his eyes were cold as ice.

At the sight of him, the men seemed to draw strength. Blackthorne squared his shoulders.

“State your terms, brute. And I will hear them.”

The Ork tilted back his head to study Blackthorne with dark shark-like eyes. The beast shifted in place, lashing its barbed tail as if impatient to get on with it.

“You are the one they call sun sword, no?” asked the Ork in his guttural tones.

Blackthorne nodded.

“I am he.”

The Ork jerked his head and made a deep rumbling sound that I only just realized was laughter.

“Very well. Here are our terms, sun sword. Lay down your arms. Submit to my father the Khan the four tribes. He is known as the killer of men, he who rips the earth, breaker of mankind, chain of…”

And the tirade of grisly names went on for what felt like minutes.

“A bit tedious, isn’t it,” Muttered a voice beside me. I turned and saw Kato and Draxus climbing the battlement steps. Draxus pulled on his helmet and adjusted the straps.

“Ork Khan’s gain a new title with every notable foe they defeat or kill.”

"How do they keep it all straight?"

Still, That didn’t bode well for us. The Khan himself would be an experienced and leveled warrior. Chances were, he was Gifted too - or at least the Ork equivalent.

At last, the son of the Khan finished his chant of names and gestured towards the human slaves.

“Surrender now, and you will all be honored among slaves. Defy us, and this is the fate that awaits you.”

He turned his horned head and gave a signal. I had guessed it was coming, but the sight still churned my stomach.

The Ork holding the chain pulled it taught, sending the slaves stumbling to the ground. Then the second Ork came forward, a long curved dagger in his hand. He gripped the woman by the hair and tilted her head back.

Red fountained from her neck as he sawed.

The sound of meat and bone against metal set my teeth on edge. Several of the men along the wall let out gasps of horror.

When he was done the Ork lifted the head into the air and bellowed. The war cry was echoed by those in the war camp in the distance. The sound was deafening.

"What say you, sun sword?"

Blackthorne clenched his fist so tightly that the leather of his gloves creaked. Then he let out a breath and lifted his chin.

"Humanity will not surrender to the likes of you. Play your games, but when we meet in the field of battle, know that it will be your head."

Blackthorne turned away but I could see the tension in his shoulders. His face remained calm as ever but rage smoldered in his eyes.

“I guard the northeast gate,” he said. “I leave this section of the wall to you Ser William, and you First Sergeant Locklan. Even now the men of the Ceris garrison are marching to the walls. Do not lose heart. They may outnumber us, but ours is a war of patience and mark my words.”

He turned and spat over the wall, surprising me.

“We will have our vengeance.”

Then he turned and he and his household guards were faded down the steps.

The remaining slaves were killed in a similar fashion their blood spilling across the cracked earth.

The Khan's son rode back and forth several more times, before circling the headless corpses and riding back into the night.

"Bastard's," said Draxus through gritted teeth. "Fucking, barbaric savages."

"So what happens now?" I asked Locklan. The man's face was set and grim. He glanced out towards the sea of fires.

"Now, Ser William, we wait."

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