The Templar Chronicles: Freedom's Price

The ruined mission was not very far away from where they had been encamped, and had they only had the motorized vehicles they would have been able to do the entire distance in only twenty minutes. However, they had to slow their pace as to not exhaust the mounts of the cavalry before they engaged in battle. Even still, they managed to get there in just shy of an hour. Jericho halted to survey the battlefield just before they were in radar range. He could see nothing out of the ordinary, but then again, he was not sure what ordinary was supposed to be when looking at a demon’s compound. Those bastards loved to wait in hiding to ambush their enemies rather than fighting them in the open.

Grom and O’Riley had jumped down out of their respective APCs to come stand by Jericho who was still mounted on Charlemagne. They were silent at first but then O’Riley spoke looking up at Jericho, “I actually believe the terrain favors our plan.” Jericho lowered the binoculars that he had been using and nodded.

He breathed in heavily and then said, “Alright there is no more reason to beat about the bush. Signal the attack.” The two Captains saluted and ran back to the APCs, Jericho replaced the binoculars into the saddle and the man nearby handed back his spear. Taking it from the helpful soldier Jericho nodded to the helpful man. He gripped the familiar and reassuring wooden shaft tightly. Now there is nothing else for it. “Charge!” He and the other twelve men and women on horseback broke out into fierce gallop with the sounds of the APCs revving to life behind them. He saw the first drone leap out of the mission as soon as they were in radar range. The drones fanned out into defensive positions, various temporary ditches and earthworks with heavy machine guns. To hinder the machines’ movement, the men and women on the turrets of the War Pigs opened fire. They were not particularly effective as they did destroy the android’s metal bodies, but the force of the bullets certainly slowed them down.

Jericho charged hard and swift, and speared the first drone he came across with great resolve. The machine collapsed to the ground and Charlemagne and the other horses quickly trampled it into smithereens. The clashing of steel and the firing of weapons drowned out all other sound as Jericho rushed through the lines of defense surrounding the mission. As soon as they were within twenty yards, Charlemagne pulled up hard and Jericho dismounted. The androids were too far away to stop him, and they were all a bit preoccupied anyway between the rest of the cavalry and the oncoming troop transports. Jericho ran towards the door leading into the mission.

҂ ҂ ҂

Jay did not look up as the drones began running out of the mission. He did not really care what they were up to; he was busy, and they did this sort of thing every time a large creature entered their radar be it a bear, a deer, or something truly dangerous. He remained seated in the comfortable armchair his leg hanging over one arm the other on the ground. Jay was thinking, thinking hard about why things seemed to be falling apart around him, between losing the thralls assigned to him, and still not knowing whether the drones he had sent had removed the pesky knight from the world. He was having a bad day. I still can’t believe that one knight and eight men managed to kill seven hundred thralls, it just doesn’t seem right somehow. I am sure the drones would have been able to finish them off. They should have been too weak to fight. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself, doubt continued to gnaw at his mind. But then damn it all! Why haven’t the blasted machines reported back to me by now? They are over three hours overdo. He stood up and began pacing again, this is unacceptable, is it possible that they were destroyed just as the thralls were. What weapon does this knight have that he can cause such wanton destruction? It is simply unheard of.

The first bark of gunfire broke him out of his concentration. Jay was only confused momentarily by the sudden calamitous noises coming from outside the building. He stood motionless, staring at the door, Ah, so they have come for me then have they. He sat back down in his chair, posing himself regally for when, whoever it was, would enter the room. I am sure it is that filthy knight! He led them here after killing my thralls and smashing my servants! Humph! Let him come… Jay was not worried he had met knights on the field of battle before and they were not all as dangerous as the lesser demons would like to believe. If he listened to and believed in their sniveling descriptions, the knights would have the powers of an archangel.

He did not have to wait long, a large black man burst through the door with a spear and shield at the ready. Jay caught a momentary view of several dozen soldiers taking apart his androids outside before the door slammed closed again. Jay spoke calmly and soothingly to the knight, “I trust that you told them to allow you to handle this alone?”

The man’s voice came out as a growl when he answered, a sharp contrast to Jay’s own conversational tone, “This is between you and me, demon.” The burly knight spit the final word at him as if he would be insulted. Bored already Jay sighed; they are always so righteous, so eager to fight to the end. What a pity.

“What do they call you warrior?” Jay asked attempting to divert the man’s energies.

“My name is Jericho, and it will be the last one you know on this world.” The knight began to come closer, but Jay stopped him with his words.

“Come now, come now, there is no reason to be impolite. We were having a nice conversation. Why do all you Templar behave the same way?”

“While we are on the subject of names, what is yours, demon?” Jericho asked keeping his spear and shield at the ready, his eyes beginning to glow with his battle frenzy.

Nice try fool! Jay smiled, his horrible crooked smile, “Well now,” Jay cocked a rural drawl, “names be powerful things. Many call me Jay; you can as well if it pleases you.” Jericho was attempting to root out his identity, and Jay was not going to give it away that easily. As long as his guise was intact, his power over the knight was assured.

Jay stood up and moved to the opposite side of the room to lean against the wall, he maintained the distance between them but Jericho still moved in a circle with him placing his own back to the wall. “I have forgotten my manners Jericho, please sit. Is there anything I can get you?”

“Quit stalling demon. That is not how this is going to end.” The knight was to go down swinging it seemed.

Jay switched tact, “I have always wondered Jericho, why do you knights care so much about those weak bags of flesh? Humans are so…disposable, why do you bother about them at all?”

“That is something that you will never understand, demon.” The light that had been burning in the Templar’s eyes began to dim. Jay smiled again as he felt his own power settling over the knight.

Jay continued speaking as if Jericho were an old friend that had come for an afternoon visit rather than an armed individual thirsting for his death, “Don’t be ridiculous. I am sure that you can’t really get attached to any of the people outside your order. They are fleeting and fragile, a passing car could kill any of them in an instant.” Against his will, and outside of his notice, Jericho began to relax his shoulders and stand a little more at ease. “I mean really. You knights live so much longer than your subjects that you can’t really view them as the same species as yourselves. After all, they live only to hold up your order’s economy. You knights could do just fine without them.”

“I don’t agree.” Jericho responded, but his words were soft and distant, as if his mind were in a cloud.

“I think you do, Jericho. Please, sit down. I will get you a drink and we can discuss your opinions on this point further.” The knight reacted sluggishly but he moved and sat down in the armchair. He was still holding onto his spear and shield but both of them were held slackly not ready to be used. Jay moved to a cupboard, got out a glass and filled it with Scotch. “Did you want any ice in your drink, Jericho?” The knight looked numbly at him and nodded. Jay smiled; turned back to the cupboard and popped open the ice chest. He dropped two cubes into the short glass, and a small tablet into the drink that fizzled and disappeared before he turned back to face the knight. He walked over and sat on the stool close to the chair, setting the drink down on the small table by Jericho’s hand.

“Here drink this. Now my friend, you were telling me about how you were unsympathetic to the plight of the humans outside.” Jericho nodded and took the glass into his hand that still had the shield strapped to it. “Make sure you drink it all, wouldn’t want you to be thirsty now would we?” Jericho raised the glass to his lips. Yes, yes do it already you colossal fool!

Jericho sat there with the glass posed in front of his lips. He had every intention to drink the alluring beverage and discuss the finer points of the Templars’ superiority with his good friend Jay, but someone in the back of the knight’s mind was screaming for him to focus. The voice was weak, and distant in the swirling fog of Jericho’s mind, but he remembered it was there.

Jericho lowered the glass again and said dreamily, “There is something that I was supposed to be doing.”

Jay looked agitated but his tone was still friendly, “You are supposed to be drinking your scotch.”

“No,” Jericho shook his head, the fog cleared a little, and the voice grew stronger, “It was more important than that. I have to think of what it was.” He replaced the glass onto the small table.

Jay’s voice had lost its cool, suave edge, “I promise I will help you think about it after you’ve had a drink.”

With the demon’s sudden lack of concentration, his power over Jericho wavered long enough for the voice in his head to become the dominant voice. Jericho stood up out of the chair and backed away from the demon. Recognition and purpose returned to his mind and voice, “I know you. I have met you before.” He pointed at the demon with his spear, raising his shield once more, “You are a demon.”

Jay stood up a sneer settling over his expression. He knocked the scotch glass onto the ground where it shattered, “Very good knight, but you’re too late. By now my pets which were nesting nearby have taken care of your little friends outside.”

The light began to return to Jericho’s eyes, “What do you mean, demon?”

“While we have been talking, it has bought a great deal of time for my servants to smell out what has been going on here. I am sure that by now they have been drawn to the fear and the stink of your friends outside.” As his words cut off, they both stopped to listen to the sounds outside. There was great deal of human screaming, and scattered gunfire. Another sound reached Jericho’s ears that he could not identify. The cry was high and piercing, shrill and terrible and he had the nagging suspicion that he had hear it before, but could not remember as much of his focus was once again on the demon.

Jericho whispered a silent prayer for the men and women who were dying outside, and turned his attention back to Jay. His mind was working full tilt again and the glow of divine inspiration returned to his eyes and moved out to surround his entire person with a fiery presence and zeal. He reviewed all the things that the demon had said to him in the last few minutes, trying to identify what this creature was. It clicked in his brain; the sneering demon was still distracted, taking pleasure in the sounds of torment and suffering coming from outside. “I know you.” He whispered, but Jay still heard him.

The demon turned back to face the knight readying himself to dispatch the man physically now that Jericho had resisted his power, “Now you are being repetitive Jericho, you already said that you know me.”

Jericho spoke in a loud and authoritative voice, “I name thee Apathy, and Lethargus. I hereby condemn you to Hell, with all the might of Heaven as my witness.” The change over the demon was instant and terrifying. At the sounding of his true identity, Jay’s face literally exploded with rage. It was not that the demon himself had exploded or changed in anyway. It was that Jericho’s eyes perceived the unveiling as such.

The disguise that had covered the demon was torn away by Jericho’s pronunciation backed by the divine authority of his office. Apathy stood there revealed for what he was. The creature was some two and half meters tall with dark leathery skin. Its arms hung down longer than they should and ended in grotesque many fingered hands. Each finger was completed with either a hooked talon, or a cruel claw. Its posture was one of totally relaxation, its prodigious muscles appearing slack, though its hands were clenching in anticipation of the kill. The beast’s face was indiscernible as the expression continued to change from a look of boredom and disinterest, to one of towering rage and bloodlust. Even still Jericho could see the red eyes that burned their hatred at him. Jericho smiled grimly. Though it looked more ferocious, it would no longer be able to sway him with its infernal influence.

Jay spoke once more, the voice a strange overlay of the demons real emotions, and a voice containing a complete lack of interest, “Now you know, but you will not live out the hour!”

“Come then foe; let us see who God favors this day!”

The apathy demon roared something in its foul and unknown language before leaping the distance towards Jericho with its claws outstretched. Jericho had anticipated this move, stepped to the side, and brought his shield to bear. The claws scraped along the side of the shield and pushed Jericho several centimeters backward. He grunted hard, and reset his shield, interposing it between himself and the demon. It had been some time since Jericho had encountered a demon such as this, and he had forgotten how strong they were.

The demon whirled and leapt at him, but Jericho sidestepped and let the demon’s claws rake through the air to his left. As the creature passed, he stabbed at the demon’s exposed chest. The demon let out a horrible snarl of pain as Jericho tore open a gash across its side. Black blood poured from the wound for a few seconds before the demon’s inhuman nature asserted itself and staunched the wound. Unable to remain still, Jericho sidestepped again as the demon counter attacked, and he was able to inflict a similar wound on the demon’s other side.

The demon was getting wise to his strategy though. It stood with its arms wide apart and began attempting to grab Jericho by making huge hugging motions as it advanced. Jericho danced backward and stabbed at the demon whenever it came to close. He had to wait for an opening that would allow him to inflict a significant wound to leave the demon vulnerable to exorcism.

Jericho kept backing up and stabbing at the demon’s arms as it tried to ensnare him. He left several small cuts up and down the overly long arms, but everything was just superficial. He took another step backward and tripped over the leg of a chair. He lay there flat on his back staring up at the demon’s pleased expression. It has immediately acted as Jericho fell. Knowing better than to simply leap on Jericho as he fell, as that would have only rewarded it with a neck, chest, or belly full of spear, it instead swooped in and snatched the weapon away from the vulnerable Jericho.

With a large crack and ferocious strength, the demon snapped the spear in half with its hands. The wood splintered and cascaded over the room. With another roar, this time of delight, the demon threw the bladed part of the spear at the now kneeling Jericho, who raised his shield deflecting the projectile harmlessly away. When he lowered the shield, again the demon was on him. Jericho was knocked backward once more but this time the demon stayed with him. The demon sat on his chest, its horrible face close enough for Jericho to smell the rancid breath that escaped its monstrous mouth. His shield arm was pinned to the ground by one of the demon’s and it began using the other to tear at Jericho’s exposed face and chest. Jericho pulled his short sword and began to stab desperately at the demon’s abdomen; their contest having quickly devolved into one in which who could cause the most damage the most quickly would win. Jericho was losing.

He was not as strong as the demon and without leverage and positioning; he was having a difficult time cutting through the demon’s hide. Jericho, however, received deep and bloody lacerations as the demon cut and tore through his armor as if it were only paper. Jericho thought quickly even under this horrible beating. Templar are tougher than normal humans and can receive a great deal more punishment before being incapacitated than the average soldier, but even still he could not continue to endure the horrible beating he was receiving for much longer. Jericho knew that if he did not deal the demon a serious enough wound right away, he was going to die, and so would all the people outside.

The knowledge that he was about to fail bolstered him; he drew up all the strength he could and stabbed the demon full in the center of its chest. Now, demons do not really have hearts per say, but what they do have are spots that are more vulnerable than others are. They are different on each of the different types of demons. Jericho had just gotten lucky. Strangely, on an apathy demon these locations are their hips, their shoulder blades, and right smack dab in the center of their chests. The blood that poured out of the massive wound in the demon’s chest was black and sticky like molasses, covered, and stuck to Jericho. The Templar did not react at all but continued to grind the sword into the demon flicking the sword back and forth with his wrist. The demon still kept trying to hurt Jericho, but it was reeling back in pain. The injury robbed it of the majority of its strength. As soon as Jericho sensed that, he had the advantage he rolled to the right, pulling the creature with him and placing himself atop the demon to gain leverage.

Through the lacerations and the gashes all over his face, Jericho managed to speak the words to condemn the demon. His voice came out in gurgling blur, but the power behind them was such that it sounded like he was screaming a proclamation to the world. “With God as my witness, I declare thee Apathy! With all the power of Heaven against you, you are no more! Burn now, in the fiery chasm from whence you came!” As he spoke these words, he placed his mailed hand on the demon’s brow. It tried to move out from under his touch, but could not. The glow that surrounded Jericho in combat spread now over the demon, preventing its escape Jericho spoke the next half of the exorcism, his eyes towards Heaven, “By the holy order of the Knights Templar, by the power of God himself, I hereby consign you to oblivion and imprisonment in the pits of the Inferno!” Jericho removed the sword from the demon’s chest, raising it with both hands above his head, his shield flapping against his arm. He brought the blade straight down between the wide fearful eyes of the demon.

As soon as he did there was a massive flash, and the building shook. Dust fell from the ceiling and then all was still once more. Jericho was still kneeling on the floor his sword in the place of where the demon had been. There was nothing left of Jay beneath Jericho. He now sat atop a dark burn in the floor outlining where the demon had lain just seconds before. Jericho staggered to his feet covered in a mixture of his own blood and the demon’s. He looked at his chest and saw that it was torn open almost to the bone. He prayed quickly attempting to heal the injury himself, but the effect was only minimal. The wounds closed and he stopped bleeding, but the damage was extensive and he had already lost a lot of blood. He was losing a lot of blood and had to seek medical attention soon or he was going to die.

He staggered towards the door through which he had entered, but fell. I think my situation might actually be a little worse than I originally thought. He got back up and moved more cautiously towards the door. His head was foggy and his vision was slipping, he opened the door and saw that the fields outside were smoking from some serious conflict. He did not stay conscious long enough to find out what had happened to those fighting outside. He fell forward onto his face less than a meter from the door and remembered no more.

Captain O’Riley watched as Jericho charged into the mission. She and the crews had done the job of getting him in there. Now he was on his own. They were not to go in there until he came out, or to flee if the demon came out instead. She motioned for the driver to pull to the side so that the soldiers could be deployed to mop up the rest of the androids that had survived the initial exchange.

The troops moved quickly out of the War Pig and moved to strike down the six remaining androids. O’Riley remained in the vehicle to coordinate the offensive with the sergeants’ through radio contact. The conflict was brief and brutal; the soldiers cut apart the few androids who stood against them with relatively few injuries or deaths. Captain O’Riley began receiving messages from all the other officers in rapid succession. The sergeants would only speak in brief words such as, “Right flank, clear,” or “Squad two, clear.” The lieutenants were a bit more informative sending in messages with numbers of soldiers down and current states of ammo.

She copied all the information down onto her notepad and then received a message from Grom, “Captain O’Riley?”

“This is a go for O’Riley.” She said after having quickly pressed the transmit button on the APC’s control panel.

“I am going to be outside of the APCs for the rest of the conflict, I am moving to establish a perimeter.” His voice was clipped and formal, the way he always was on mission.

She nodded though he could not see her, “Acknowledged.” She saw him jump out of the APC ten meters to her right. He saluted in her direction and then ran to the left where the soldiers were beginning to cluster awaiting his orders. She returned to her writing, quickly doing figures and percentages that would have to be a part of a report sometime in the future. About twenty seconds passed of no activity with the soldiers fanning out to surround the mission and provide a perimeter. She sat in the navcom seat of the APC, which afforded her a one hundred and eighty degree view of the field in front of her. She paying partial attention to the events outside, but something moved in her peripheral vision away to the right and caught her notice. She looked up suddenly tense, and as she did the APC on her right exploded in a sudden inferno. She looked at it in shock for a moment, then immediately dropped her notebook and slammed the transmit button once again, “APB: Enemy advancing from the south west, prepare yourselves for flame weapons.”

As soon as she had finished this broadcast, what was attacking the APCs trotted into her vision. She had read about these in school once upon a time, but those had been books of mythology, she had never thought she would see one in real life. Its body was shaped like a lion; it stood twice as tall and appeared to have more muscle than could be packed into the cats frame. It that was not enough, it had a goat’s head sticking out of its back and a snake for a tail. Chimera, she thought in horror.

This was not the first time that the demons had pulled creatures out of mythology, science fiction, and fantasy to haunt the steps of the men and women of Avalon, but this was a particularly disconcerting one. The creature was so deformed and alien, that to look upon it made one sick to their stomach. As she watched it, the chimera opened its mouth and bathed the remaining APC besides her own in flame. It only took a few seconds before the armor turned red hot, and then another few before the fusion core was breached, the fail-safes overwhelmed, and the APC exploded outward sending shrapnel and tires in several directions.

That was enough for O’Riley, she screamed at the only other person in the APC who had been watching the back door, “Johnson get up here, I need you on navcom right NOW!” She threw herself into the driver’s seat to her left and slammed the War Pig into gear. They were already moving by the time Johnson was strapping herself into the seat next to O’Riley’s, her efforts made more difficult by the radical maneuvering that O’Riley was using.

Corporal Johnson was not sure what was going on, “What is it commander, what is hitting us?”

She did not answer right away; she did not have the time. Instead she set her jaw and slammed the APC around the wreckage of the others weaving through them to avoid providing a direct target for the beasts. As they swerved around the second burning hulk, O’Riley and Johnson could see the twenty or so Chimera charging over the fields towards the soldiers. O’Riley whispered as she swept the APC towards the soldiers, “Chimera, lots of them.”

Johnson said in shock, “Sweet Jesus.”

O’Riley looked quickly at the corporal, “I need you to get in contact with the central air command right now, Corporal.” Johnson looked at her confused, “For the love of all that is sacred Johnson, type in the number on the panel.” She was driving around the mission trying to lure some of the Chimera away from the foot soldiers, those on horseback had already turned and fled up the hill to a more defensible position to provide what covering fire they could. All the soldiers had seen the beasts and were beginning to fire their rifles at them. The majority of the bullets simply seemed to bounce off of the Chimera, but a few shots landed and wounded the beasts severely.

“Ok were connected, what do you want me to tell them?” Johnson chimed in a few seconds later.

“Repeat to them exactly what I am about to say,” She made another left turn; one more would bring them up behind the soldiers on the ground fleeing from the Chimeras. “Clearance code alpha-theta-0496: requesting immediate air support of heavy air to ground interceptors at the coordinates of this transmission.”

“They say they are scrambling their fighters and should be inbound in six minutes.” O’Riley did some quick thinking, six minutes, there may not be anyone alive here in six minutes, we are going to have to make the time. She slammed the breaks and screeched to a halt behind the line of soldiers still firing at the oncoming Chimeras. O’Riley did a quick estimate; they probably had less than two minutes before they were all bathed in flame at this position. “Johnson, open the back door, and get as many of them in here as we can.” The corporal moved quickly and the soldiers began to swarm into the War Pig. She could hear the horrible shrieking of the Chimera’s voices now that the door was open. It chilled her heart.

Captain Grom came onto the line. His voice was sad and calm, “You know we can’t all get in there, some of us are going to have to stay out here on foot.” The chimeras were still running towards the soldiers.

“I know,” O’Riley whispered back into the microphone. He turned around outside and looked through the reflective glass right at her, though she knew he could not actually see her.

“I am staying. We’ll try to hit and run as much as possible.”

“James…” she began not sure of what she was feeling.

“I know, me too.” The words were soft and loving. He dropped the tone quickly when the Chimera were only fifteen meters away from their position. He barked a sharp command at her, “Now get out of here we don’t have a lot of time!” As soon as she heard the back-hatch slam home, she revved the engine once more and began speeding away at once. The soldiers who did not make it in the APC began running away from the advancing Chimera doing their best to fan out reducing their vulnerability to the flame. O’Riley looked at the holographic display, five minutes now.

She hollered back at the soldiers sitting behind her, “Johnson back on coms! Perez, you’re our gunner. Get in the turret!” O’Riley was not about to abandon her lover and her friends to the fires of Hell. She would think of something.

She pulled the APC around again and drove straight towards the running backs of the Chimera. Perez began firing the heavy machine gun of the turret into them. A few of the Chimera who were actually hit by the bullets stopped to meet the new threat. Perez managed to smash all the life out of one of them with the hail of bullets, but there were still so many. O’Riley saw one of the Chimera, still focused on the soldiers fleeing on foot, burn six of them away with one breath. At that, something snapped in her mind, and she abandoned patience. A glint came into her eye; she pressed her foot down on the accelerator as far as it would go. The soldiers behind her looked on nervously feeling their increase in speed.

The chimera nearest to them saw the danger too late. It opened its lion mouth to bathe the War Pig in flame but was instead met with a face full of steel traveling at one hundred kilometers-per-hour. O’Riley drove right over it; the noise of its demise was so loud that she could hear the crunching and snapping even through the several inches of armored plating and over the roaring of the guns and engine. She continued her rampage through the stationary chimera, though the APC was beginning to lose speed. When the War Pig was barely moving at thirty kilometers-an -hour, with its wheels, frame, and axels smashed to hell with the repeated impacts, the chimeras who were still focused on them struck. One of them bathed the side of it in flame, heating the machine to uncomfortable temperatures in only a few seconds. Those Chimera on the other side began to smash and to claw at the armor attempting to get inside of the machine at the humans cowering within it.

O’Riley snapped out of the blood haze, to find that she had placed them all into a precarious position. Johnson was crying silently, clutching at the seat with all her might, staring at her Captain. O’Riley flipped on the air conditioner in the War Pig in automatic reaction to the intense heat. She flipped the wheel hard right, and they began to pick up speed again. However, the Chimeras were not going to let them get away that easily. The three beasts attacking the APC tore at the wheels under the heavy plating until they were rendered useless. They did not breathe fire again on the APC, which was fortunate. O’Riley thought desperately, perhaps they can only breathe fire infrequently. We might have a chance here.

Johnson was speaking quietly into the communications receiver once more. She nodded and turned towards O’Riley, “Fighters inbound.” was all she said. The Chimeras were still tearing through the metal hull and were probably only seconds away from penetrating it.

“Defensive positions! Backs to one another! Fire when you see daylight!”

Things are not looking good, Grom thought as he and the soldiers began to run as the APC tore away in a cloud of dust. He did not honestly know whether any of them were going to be able to get out of this situation alive, it was pretty desperate. He hollered an order at the clustered soldiers, “Fan out, don’t let their flames get all of us at once.” The soldiers moved quickly to obey the order all the while firing back over their shoulders. The Chimeras were closing in faster than they could retreat. Grom did not know how the forty men that he had with him were going to be able to fend off the charging monstrosities.

The first Chimera came into range and breathed a huge sweeping sheet of flame over the nearest section of soldiers. Six of his men burst into flames, their flesh cooking away to the bone faster than they could raise their weapons to defend themselves. He took aim with the laser rifle in his hands at the offending Chimera; he squeezed off a single round directly at its lion head. The beam cut right through the creature’s brain and grinned violently as it burst asunder, but the beast remained on its feet. Apparently, the other two brains in the creature were savvy enough to keep it on its feet. Lord and damnation how are we going to bring these things down?

He saw the APC charge the lines of the chimera, drawing off six of their attackers. Emily ran over and crushed two of the beasts with shear velocity. He did not have time to focus on the War Pig’s plight; he was having troubles of his own. The rest of the chimeras were still charging towards him and his men, but he noticed that most of the beasts had stopped breathing fire, as if they could not keep it up. He snarled in defiance, and to his men he cried, “Rally to me, TO ME!” In the few seconds they had before the creatures struck he gushed, “You five from a line and provide covering fire! Don’t let those creatures flank us! The rest of you with me. Work in teams. Cut them apart. Don’t get close unless the beasts are distracted by a teammate. We’re going medieval on their asses!” He pulled out his mace and the soldiers around him did likewise with their axes and swords.

The thirty surviving soldiers broke into groups of three to take on the remaining chimeras. Grom and the two others who were with him, charged towards the beast that Grom had shot and injured earlier. He could see the other group of chimeras tearing apart the War Pig, and the sounds of gunfire that were coming from within. They had to hurry if they wanted to save the soldiers trapped within. The chimera’s goat head swiveled towards Grom as his group surrounded it. The chimera swiped at him with its paw trying to take out his legs, but Grom hopped outside of its reach. One of the soldiers dashed forward into the opening. As she did, the snake snapped and bit her in the upper arm. It picked her up bodily, shook her once, and flicked her aside. She was alive but in terrible shape. The heavy armor that she wore was all that kept her arm attached to her body. Now it was only two against one.

Grom saw the goat head turn to face the man on his right. He moved forward then, dodged through the snakes attack and slammed his mace down into the center of the beast’s spine. He could feel the bone give way under his blow. The thing gave a horrible bleat and a nasty hiss from its two heads. Its body was crippled and it slumped to the ground, but the snakehead continued to snap at him and his partner. The man on Grom’s right was quick though. He waited until the snake had attempted to snap at Grom again, then had moved in and chopped down on the base of where the snake’s body attached to the rest of the monster. He had cut deep, but it was not enough. It took another swing before the creature lay still.

Grom turned to the next beast, and saw that the other groups were not faring so well. They had divided the chimeras and were attacking them viciously, but a whole team had been consumed in flame, and several groups were already down a soldier or even two. The two men looked at each other and nodded. They went to the aid of the group currently caught in the dilemma of fighting two chimeras with three people. Fortunately, that was when the Army’s planes arrived. Grom heard a high-pitched scream as a plane shot by overhead appraising the situation before making a strafe.

He looked up briefly with tears in his eyes, God bless you Emily. He refocused on the situation. The planes would not be able to get a good shot at the chimeras with the soldiers so closely engaging them in combat. He made a split second decision and then called it out to all those around him, “Fall back, make a run for it!” He then immediately took off back towards the mission. The firing line he had left behind opened up with a roar of gunfire, picking their shots and slowing their monstrous foes between the retreating soldiers. The second pass of a plane brought down a hail of bullets on the chimeras that were not chasing the soldiers. The beasts were torn apart by the aircrafts’ high caliber shells that exploded on impact with the beasts, and cut through them with searing heat. Another plane shot by overhead, ending the lives of half of the chimeras attacking the APC. Things were looking up, but he had to buy the fleeing soldiers more time.

It was not the best decision he had ever made, but he made it for those under his command, that they might live to fight another day. He turned to meet the five or so surviving chimeras charging towards him. He raised his mace above his head as the first of the monsters came after him, preparing to go out with as much courage and honor that he could. Just then, a blinding light poured out of every window in the mission and the ground shook as if with the passing of an earthquake, an avalanche, or a tornado. The chimeras froze in response to the light and quaking earth, each of them with all six of their eyes pointed at the building in the field. Grom was staring to, he did not know what had happened but he was sure it was a good thing if it gave the chimeras this much pause. The beasts did not look at the soldiers again. The remaining creatures each turned their three heads to the sky and keened a lamentation. It was a horrible sound, one that Grom could not later describe. Few enough people have ever heard a goat, a snake, and a lion cry out in anguished unison before.

The chimeras turned and began fleeing south. The planes pursued them, ensuring none would ever harm another person. Grom watched them flee for a moment, and then turned his attention back towards the mission. Well I am not going to die today after all. He was smiling despite of the heavy losses that they had sustained, pleased for the moment with just being alive. Before he could go about recollecting and reorganizing those under his command, he saw someone stumble out of the mission. It was Jericho, unmistakable, even covered in blood and filth from whatever had happened inside that mission. Grom took off towards him. Grom could tell from the way he moved that Jericho was grievously. The knight stumbled and fell before the captain could reach him.

Grom arrived bare seconds later. He flipped the burly man over to assess his condition, and was met with a grisly sight. The man was covered in lacerations all over his chest and head, and his breathing was shallow. Not only that, but he was covered in sticky black substance that was corroding his armor, and rotting his skin. Grom did not know what it was, but he knew that if they did not get Jericho to a medical facility in a few hours he was going to die. He looked over his shoulder at the only APC they had left that was not a burning wreck. Soldiers were coming out, looking a little startled from their ordeal but none the worse for wear, but the machine that they had sheltered in was not going anywhere for the next few days. It was practically totaled.

Grom panicked, I can’t let him die! I just can’t! He has done too much for us for it to end like this! Grom stood up quickly, turned to run to the APC. Stopped turned back, looked into the mission, stopped again. Indecision was tearing him apart. He had no idea what to do. “Oh God, if you have any mercy on this man, help us.” The prayer was desperate, and he was surprised to hear that he had spoken it aloud. Nothing happened at first, but the smoke that had been hovering over the battlefield broke just for a moment and a ray of sunlight landed on Grom’s upturned face.

The Captain growled, “That is comforting, but it won’t save his life!” Then Grom heard a sound behind him, an impatient stomp accompanied by a snort to gain his attention. Grom turned and was met with one of the large brown eyes of Jericho’s horse Charlemagne. It clicked at once in his brain. If there was, any creature in the world that could save Jericho in this moment it was his horse. Grom went back to Jericho and began to try and pick him up with little success.

A small group of soldiers had wandered over towards Grom to see if he had any further orders. They saw him struggling and asked what they could do to help. With tears of desperation in his eyes, Grom barked out his commands, “Every second counts! One of you, get rope! The other, tell Emily to radio back to base and tell them to prep for a medical emergency!” Two people immediately ran off, both towards the APC. The rest of the soldiers stood waiting, “Well don’t just stand there! Help me get him onto the horse’s back!” The soldiers darted forward and as one, they were able to lift the incredibly heavy knight off the ground, into the air, and set him on the back of the horse. They had to hold him in place for a minute, until the soldier with the rope returned. They lashed Jericho in place the best they could.

Once Grom was satisfied with the work, he walked back to stare into Charlemagne’s eyes. He stood there a moment trying to convey just how important his words were, “Ride back to the base. Don’t stop for anything unless he falls off your back. They will be expecting. You are his only hope, God speed. GO! NOW!” The horse did not need any more prompting; with a snort and a whiny, he turned and began galloping hard north. Grom stared after them a moment, not really the best way to transport a man with such wounds… but it’s not like we had much of a choice. He paused a moment, The Army could have scrambled a copter, but by the time, they’d have gotten here… He was not sure, he now thought that the planes would have been faster, but he remembered the shaft of light that had touched him after his prayer. I will just have to trust God on this one. It is out of my hands now anyway.

Grom turned and looked at the rest of the soldiers who were still gathered about him staring after the horse’s retreating figure. “Well, shall we see if this operation was worth the effort?”

The soldiers looked at him numbly for a moment, and then responded, “Yes sir, of course, sir.” And many other such phrases.

“You three,” he indicated which of the soldiers he meant, “Report to Captain O’Riley and inform her of what has happened here. You are then to place yourselves under her command as she should begin salvage detail.” The three saluted and walked swiftly back towards where O’Riley stood with a huddled group of troops issuing orders of her own.

The remaining two looked expectantly at Grom, “Well then let’s go in, shall we?” They moved as one into the mission where the ferocious battle between man and evil had taken place just minutes before. The room was empty, as Grom had expected it to be. He moved through the wreckage of furniture and debris, and saw Jericho’s shield and what was left of his spear lying on the floor. It must have been some battle for him to have lost both of his weapons in the fight. He moved towards the back of the mission and rolled back a huge metal sliding door. What met his eyes upon opening that door, made all the sacrifice and strife of the last few days and weeks worthwhile.

There in a long room, were hundreds of people, hundreds. They were huddled together in fear and shock at the horrific noises that had been occurring outside and inside the mission. Grom fell to his knees with tears in his eyes, so many. I can’t believe that the demon had captured so many. I did not know just how bad it had gotten. He wiped his eyes and smiled at the frightened prisoners nearest to him. He stood back to his feet, and took a step forward with his hands raised as much in greeting as to pacify the nervous survivors. He spoke as loud as he could, though he was sure that the back of the room still could not hear him. “Do not be afraid. My name is Captain Grom of the Army of Avalon. You are safe. You are free.”

The crowd became a sudden mix of emotions. Many shouted. Some wept. Others stood in disbelieving shock, but all of them were ecstatic with hope and joy. Those men in the crowd nearest to him rushed forward to shake his hand, and to ask questions. He did the best he could to respond to all of them politely, but they were repetitive. Not to mention, Grom was mind-numbingly tired. He had not slept in a day, and the fighting had been particularly fierce this afternoon. It did not seem that his work was going to end any time soon either. He turned and began the task of reintegrating Avalon’s citizens to the nation that had fought to recover them.

Gawain and Angela began the slow walk home as the sun began to set over the lake. They walked hand in hand all the way back to the base to return the basket and blanket to the compound. He was elated. The hours had passed swiftly filled with comfort and peace. They had talked about so many things, covered so much ground in such little time, that he felt that he knew her better than anyone else in the world at that moment. The woods in twilight were soft and quiet, as the transition between the creatures of the day and those of the night played out. They walked in silence, comfortable in each other’s company.

When the lights of the compound came into view, Gawain sighed. The day was over, and he was going to miss it. It had been one of the best he had known, perhaps in his whole life. Under the immense light thrown off by the base, he noticed something that made him stop. Angela took and additional step but was caught by Gawain’s hand. She had been looking down at the ground lost in thought, but was quickly brought back to reality. She looked first at Gawain, and then followed his gaze. They looked upon a plain blue sedan parked outside of the main doors of the compound. The car was so common, so every day that it stuck out horribly at an outpost filled with soldiers and military equipment. Angela whispered softly, “Something is very wrong.” Unlike Gawain, she knew whose vehicle that was.

“Why is there a civilian car here?” Gawain’s voice was mystified and distant as if he had not even heard her. Gawain did not react until Angela touched his face. Her concern caused a small amount of panic to rise in his own chest, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

“That is Lt. Colonel Bennett’s car, she’s a doctor. She only comes here when someone is in mortal peril and our own medics can’t save them. Something very bad has happened to someone at the base.” They hurried forward, breaking their contact for quicker motion. They entered the compound through the kitchen entrance. It was dark. This caused further alarm in Gawain, it was the middle of a mealtime, the cook and at least some of the soldiers should be here. He set the basket down onto one of the many tables in the room and followed Angela into the rest of the base. There was only one light in the entire hallway, and it was coming from the medical wing.

They entered quietly not wishing to disturb what was going on within. All five of the soldiers on the base were in the small room, making it seem claustrophobic and stuffy. As they entered, all the heads in the room swiveled towards them for a few seconds and then back to the figure lying on a bed at the end of the room. Gawain could not see who it was, but he deduced that no one on post had been harmed as they all stood there anxious. Gawain tried to see over them, but those few who were standing were too focused to care whether the newcomers had a view of the proceedings. Gawain walked up as close as he could behind them, allowing his superior height to negate the effect.

What he saw caused his heart to skip a beat. At the end of the room propped up in the bed in a sitting position was Jericho, but not how Gawain had come to know him. The Knight was unconscious and out of his armor, covered in bandages around his chest and head, with a great deal of stitching around his face. They had hooked Jericho up to all manner of monitors and life support. The sound of his breathing was particularly disturbing; it was heavy and phlegmy as if his chest was full of liquid that was trying to drown him. Gawain whispered, but in the quiet, his voice was loud, “What happened?”

One of the soldiers looked over his soldiers and answered slowly and bitterly, “We won.”

Gawain was confused, won what? Against who? The doctor in a military uniform who had been sitting on the far side of Jericho’s bed looked up and said, “Ah, new arrivals.” Her voice was forcibly cheery, and left Gawain even more confused. She pointed at the man who had spoken before, “Watch the machines, if anything changes about his bios, you come and get me right away.” She motioned for Gawain and Angela to follow her into the hall. They did.

Once there, Gawain repeated his question, “What happened?”

The doctor sighed, “Just as your comrade said: victory. Jericho and the soldiers managed to track down and eliminate the demon in his compound several dozen miles from here. But… the contest has nearly cost Jericho his life. If it were only superficial wounds that had harmed him, his natural durability would have been enough that he could have been taken to a station with more equipment than this, and been up and about in a matter of only a day or so. As it stands, I am not sure he will survive. I have had to resort to archaic means to stop his bleeding and maintain his life,” She shook her head, “Needles and thread as if I was mending a shirt rather than a broken body, but that is not the worst of it. It seems that when he was fighting the demon, some of its blood fell into Jericho’s wounds and onto his skin. The blood is acting as a poison and is slowly causing his body to shut down and his skin to wither and die.”

“How long does he have?” Gawain said in disbelief.

“Well, all hope is not lost, I have informed the Templar Command in Granada and a Paladin is on her way right now, but she may not get here in time. Jericho is a strong man, but he is old. I do not know if his body will be able to last out the night in time for the good Paladin to arrive and perform the necessary rites to restore him. In the meantime, I am doing everything I can for him. That’s it. Now, I must go back to my patient.” She turned and returned to her place on the bed. Gawain stared after her in shock, how could this happen? Just a few days ago, Jericho was indestructible, cutting through the thralls as easily as the band saws had cut through the lumber at the mill. He can’t just die. He just can’t!

He began to tremble; Angela moved closer to him and hugged him around the waist. Gawain’s consciousness rebelled against the notion that Jericho could fail, that he was mortal. The man is too strong, too determined to live to just give up now. But then his memories contradicted him. He remembered just how tired Jericho had been after the battle with the thralls, just how many years Jericho had already lived; maybe he was not as strong as he looked. The thought was disturbing. Gawain slumped against the wall. Angela followed alongside him.

She stayed by him as his thoughts continued to race. He was suddenly angry at the way things had turned out, If this is freedom’s price, it’s too high! Good men, brave men, honest and kind men should not be the ones who die for people like me. He sat there outside of the room just as all the others, standing vigil for the fallen knight. They sat, waiting to see if Jericho could beat the slow march of death coursing through his veins.