The Shattered Crown

FORTY-FIVE

He had failed his warriors and led them to an ignominious death. The knowledge that they would die by the executioner’s blade filled him with a shame greater than he had ever known. So when the fell monster dragged itself from the ground, Regulus Gor’s heart had leapt. No longer would they be slaughtered for the delight of a baying mob. At least now they would die at the hands of a worthy opponent.

It had to reach them first, though, had to destroy those who stood against it. Regulus admired the warriors in bronze as they fought. They were organised, disciplined and died with honour.

He strained against his bonds as he watched, yearning to join them, but he could do nothing. Beside them the axeman, who moments earlier had been ready to lop Janto’s head from his shoulders, stood dumbstruck, his axe held limp in his hand. What Regulus would have done for that weapon, for the chance to leap from the scaffold and take the fight to his enemy — to die a warrior’s death.

As the Zatani watched helplessly, one of the soldiers in green ran towards them. Regulus realised it was Nobul Jacks, the one he had spoken to back in his cell. He looked angered. Someone was arguing with him, trying to pull him back, but could only do so in vain.

Nobul came to stand before Regulus, staring with apprehension but little fear. Then he unclasped the mask that held Regulus’ jaws fast.

‘Will you still fight for us?’ he said. Regulus stared at him, aware of the carnage being reaped in the arena beyond. ‘Will you fight for us now?’

Regulus smiled grimly. He had put his trust in these Coldlanders once and it had led him here, to be killed for the entertainment of a crowd. Could he really trust them now?

What does it matter? Say yes and take your freedom, to die here with a weapon in hand and blood on your lips.

‘Yes, Nobul Jacks. I will fight for you.’

Nobul grabbed the keys and unlocked the manacles that held Regulus. Once released, Regulus stood to full height, looking down at Nobul. He could tell the Coldlander was ready to defend himself if he had to.

‘My warriors and I will fight for you,’ he said. ‘But I will have the honour of entering battle first.’

With that he turned to the executioner. The man took a step back, holding his axe up as though it could shield him. Regulus wrested the axe from the hooded man’s hands and leapt from the wooden scaffold.

He landed deftly and sprinted towards the fray. The great beast swung a writhing branch, sending gore and shattered armour flying.

With a roar, Regulus leapt past the armoured warriors in their desperate fight. He raised the axe high, bringing it down with a solid hacking sound against the thick wooden limb and the monstrosity raised its head high in a silent cry of pain. It struck out before Regulus could dodge away, and he was sent spinning through the air, somehow managing to hold onto the axe as it was wrenched free of the creature’s flesh.

He landed heavily and the great monster bore down on him. Regulus leapt to his feet and braced himself, awaiting the onslaught. Before the creature could raise another massive branch to smite him, more figures rushed to join the fray.

Leandran leapt at the monster. He had found a fallen blade, and now raised it high. Akkula held a spear and rushed in low, impaling the creature’s trunk while Leandran hacked at its thickest flailing arm.

Regulus flushed with pride, then joined them, rushing forward, his axe cutting in with swift staccato blows as he hacked at the monster, trying to fell it like the tree it had once been.

The trunk of the creature cracked as it twisted in an attempt to shake off the Zatani. Hagama rushed in then, adding another spear to the attack, screaming all the while as though the breath of his lungs had been put there by the Lord of the Wilds himself.

One of the bronze-armoured knights was quick to rejoin the fray, his sword flashing as he sliced great gouges out of the monster before moving out of range each time it had a chance to counter.

Regulus ducked, narrowly avoiding a great branch which swept down to smash him into the earth. Leandran was not so lucky. The monster grasped the warrior in a wooden limb and raised him high. Still Leandran battled, roaring in defiance right up until the creature smashed him into the ground head first. He lay there silent and unmoving. Regulus screamed in fury, his yell joined by Janto’s as he raced past, leaping upon the creature’s head and rending with tooth and claw.

Enraged at seeing one of their number so cruelly vanquished, the Zatani resumed their onslaught, more ferociously than ever. So furious was their assault that any bronze-armoured Coldlanders between them and the monster were forced to retreat from their path. Try as it might the monster could not land a blow on the Zatani. They attacked furiously then darted aside, moving with practised ease, each of them instinctively knowing what the others would do, where they would be, how they would fight.

Regulus came at the creature from the rear, his axe hacking the roots that supported it. The beast buckled, losing balance as it was tipped over by the spears of Hagama, Kazul and Akkula. Still Janto clung to the creature’s face, bark and white gore flying every which way as he tore at it.

‘Janto!’ Regulus shouted.

As Janto looked up Regulus flung him the headsman’s axe. The Zatani caught it deftly, raising it high with a roar before bringing it down to hack the head from the creature.

Still the monster writhed on the ground, spewing white gore. Regulus and his warriors stood back as the armoured Coldlanders rushed in, to hack the downed beast to kindling.

Regulus looked at the crumpled figure of Leandran, and saw Akkula already knelt at his side. The young Zatani looked up as Regulus approached.

‘He has already gone on his way to the stars.’

The thrill of victory ebbed as Regulus looked down at the old warrior. Leandran had been a teacher to Regulus for many years, and his heart ached at the loss. There was no sorrow, though, no tears. Leandran had fought well and met his death as any Gor’tana should — in battle. It was a worthy end.

Once the sound of hacking had subsided and the beast was destroyed, a voice rose up over the calm.

‘What are you doing? To arms! These criminals must be subdued!’

Regulus looked up to see a hooded figure he recognised. Rogan, he had called himself. The man was pointing an accusing finger at the Zatani.

‘To your feet,’ Regulus ordered, and his warriors moved to stand beside him. Janto’s eyes were ablaze, his lust for battle far from sated.

One of the warriors in bronze, his helm bearing two mighty wings, took a step forward. ‘These men have just helped us defeat a foe that would have murdered us all, Seneschal. You cannot seriously want them clapped in irons?’

‘They are dangerous. Murderers,’ said Rogan. ‘I demand that-’

‘Demand?’ said the warrior. ‘You demand?’

Regulus could see the other men in bronze moving to their leader’s side, as ready for another fight as Janto was.

‘I think they’ve proved their loyalty,’ said a voice behind him.

Regulus saw it was Nobul Jacks who had spoken. He could not help but like this man. Could not help but think he was as honourable as his name suggested.

‘This proves nothing. These creatures are dangerous enemies of the Free States,’ said Rogan. ‘They have been condemned.’

‘They’ve shown where their allegiance lies,’ said Nobul. ‘Look.’ He gestured at the fallen monster.

It was then the top of the amphitheatre exploded in a shower of stone.