Iron Blooded

Forty Four: Man vs Beast

Around us, the battle still raged, but in our small pocket, there was stillness. Both sides, Ork and man, hesitated.

The soldiers parted for me like the tide as I stepped forward into the space between our lines.

The Ork Raider boss flipped his warhammer in his hand a few times, before jerking his head to his brethren. He growled something in their own guttural language and I watched as the Orks withdrew.

Both sides watched with intensity as I lifted my sword and shield before me.

The Ork was massive, and now, standing fifteen paces away the fear began to twist my insides. I clenched my jaw and lifted my chin. Now, was not the time for weakness.

I could see the fear in the men's eyes as they faced off against a foe with much greater numbers. The Ork’s may be a barbaric people, but they were far from stupid. Their objective was to wear us down physically and mentally and pray upon a city that had become vulnerable.

To the men, these barbarians were larger than life. Creatures of nightmare that came to take their city, burn their homes, and take their children as slaves.

I would have to prove to everyone watching that mankind would not go quietly - but instead in a sea of blood and fire.

The Raider boss bared his fangs in a sign of intimidation. I spat to the side and slammed my visor shut.

“What are the terms of your challenge?” I asked him. My voice rang in my helmet, sounding loud and metallic in my ears.

The Ork made a guttural sound that I had come to recognize as laughter.

“Until you are dead, human.”

“And no others will interfere?” I asked. I gestured with my chin behind him at the line of wary Orks.

The Boss didn’t even bother to turn.

“None will interfere,” he agreed. “Not while one of us yet draws breath.”

“Then I can promise you the same.” I raised my voice to be heard across the wall. “No man will interfere on my behalf. We will fight until one of us is nothing more than a corpse.”

I rolled my neck from side to side, trying to loosen stiff muscles. Draxus tried to catch my eye from somewhere in the sea of armored faces but I kept my eyes forward. I knew the risk - had known before I had stepped forward to accept the challenge.

My men needed to see that the Orks weren’t infallible. That even their strongest warriors could be bled and killed like any other mortal creature. Today, I would make a statement that I hoped would echo through the men now guarding Ceris.

The Ork Boss waited for me to begin circling him before he dropped into a lazy stance. His movements were mocking, unconcerned. Like a parent humoring a child. I stepped forward carefully, watching the range of his long arms as I made a few experimental sword jabs.

The Ork hefted his Warhammer and I danced back, shield high. Several of the Orks laughed.

I had only moments to register when the bout actually began. One moment the Raider Boss was standing, his posture relaxed. The next he was bounding forward in long strides and bringing his Warhammer up and to the side. I stepped right, then left as the follow-up swing whistled past.

One blow from that hammer would be enough to crack my bones. And I had no doubt that the raid boss wouldn’t end it quickly. No, my only chance was to learn his patterns and attack when he made himself vulnerable.

I lifted my shield and grunted, feinting forward as if I might attempt to charge him.

The Ork jerked his guard back up, only to growl in frustration as I circled him again. I kept my right foot forward and, body sideways to present a smaller target.

We were each eyeing each other, each searching for the opening that would be the other's undoing.

This time I struck first. The Ork boss reacted instantly, side-stepping my stab at his unprotected throat and bringing up his hammer to jab for my face. I moved aside, but the end of it still clipped my helmet. The blow sent me stumbling back and the Raider took no time in pressing his advantage.

I saw him coming moments before I heard him. The Ork charged me, lethal horns lowered. I threw myself to one side, only barely managing to lift my shield in time to catch the follow-up blow from his hammer.

Wooden splinters tore from my shield. The impact made my arm go numb to the shoulder. He was strong, much stronger than any opponent I'd fought before.

I leveled my sword and attempted to stab at his eyes through his helmet. The Raider Boss made a deep-throated sound of amusement as he leaned out of range.

“Come human, let us end this game. Lay down your arms and I will take you as my personal slave. There would be mercy for your men."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

His dark eyes glittered with malice.

“There is no dishonor in defeat,” he said.

I cracked my neck.

“Then there will be no dishonor in yours.”

The Ork Boss snorted his amusement and lifted his Warhammer. The time for talk had come and gone.

He lowered his head and charged again, and I dodged aside as before. But this time, I had measured my steps.

As he turned to swing his hammer around, I was ready for him.

Rather than attempt to absorb another powerful blow to my shield I brought my sword up and forward, thrusting the point past the hammer’s shaft.

The blade slipped under the Ork’s vambraces and pierced the pink flesh at the inside of his wrist. Unable to arrest the momentum of his swing, I saw the Ork’s dark eyes widen as the blade bit deep, severing the tendon in his arm.

The hammer sagged in his hold and I used that opportunity to rush in for a killing bow. I was fast, but I had anticipated that my stunt would be enough to have him off balance. I was wrong.

The Ork lifted his giant hand and cuffed me hard enough to send me to one knee. Blood slicked the handle of his Warhammer as he tried to lift it, only to grunt in pain as his arm spasmed.

I pushed to my feet and clenched my jaw. The situation was precarious.

With Iron-Blooded active, the extra damage might be enough to end this. And yet, I couldn’t risk getting too close within reach of those giant hands.

Before I could decide my plan of attack, the Ork Boss made the decision for me. He shifted his weight suddenly, releasing the Warhammer with his bad arm and letting it clatter to the ground.

Without the weight of the hammer to slow him, he was fast.

He lunged at me, and as I tried to sidestep my lack of reach did me in. His good hand closed around the lip of my shield and yanked me off balance. I had only enough time to tuck my chin as the punch landed full on.

Metal crunched into bone. I felt my nose shatter, blood gushing over my lips and chin. Moments later the pain followed. My eyes watered even as I released the strap to my shield and stumbled backward out of range.

Blood flowed freely down my front and I snarled as I watched the Ork toss my shield over the wall.

It had been my only defense, and now I was vulnerable to a much stronger apportionment. I had just lost my main advantage.

The Orks whooped in amusement, while the soldiers of Ceris stayed grimmly silent. I focused, forced to suck lungfuls of air through my mouth.

I drew my now shieldless gauntlet across my body, raising my sword in a guard.

The Raider Boss lunged at me mockingly, satisfied when I danced away. The Orks growled their excitement, and I could sense that the mood in the air had shifted.

Ceris Banners whipped in the nighttime air. I was aware only of my opponent, of his heavy breathing, and of the growing pool of blood slowly gathering at his boots.

Would it be enough? I had no way of knowing. As it was, I could either wait for the inevitable or take back control of the fight.

I advanced. The Ork moved surprisingly quickly for a creature so large. It dogged my flurry of strikes and lashed out with a fist, forcing me to duck aside. I managed to score a small cut along his calf before he lowered his head and slammed his horns into my chest.

My shoulder hit the wall with a crash and my sword dropped from my fingers.

I stumbled back as he came in swinging with fists, fumbling with the hilt at my belt.

All I could see were horns, tusks, and rage-filled eyes before he was upon me. I was lifted from my feet and slammed into the ground with enough force to crack ribs. A large hand wrapped around my helmet, obscuring my vision. Metal creaked as my head was jerked upwards and slammed back against the stone.

My ears rang.

I ripped Iron Fang from its sheath, bloody fingers nearly losing my grip.

I stabbed blindly, feeling the satisfying crunch of the blade through meat and carteledge. The hand withdrew from my vision and stared up into the face of my enemy.

The Ork drew back a fist and I jerked my head to the side, hearing the crunch as his fist connected with a stone. I reached up, gripping a horn, and jerked his face towards me. We struggled for long moments, me snarling and spitting blood, him growling and jerking his head to free himself from my grip.

I brought Iron Fang around muscles screaming as I shoved against his strength. Had he not been bleeding so liberally, I might have lost this desperate struggle.

But as it was his movements became slower, his panting deeper. The point of my dagger drew closer and closer to his eye even as it bulged. He tried to jerk his head back, but with a roar of effort, I pulled his head forward and onto the knife blade.

Blood gushed over my gauntlet as his eye popped. The Ork let out a high squeal, like that of a pig, as my knife drove slowly and inexorably forward. Then with a sudden release of tension, the resistance fell away.

My knife blade slipped into his brain, and the Ork slumped to the side. I scrambled to my feet raising the bloody knife at the line of Orks. It still had a bit of eyeball on it.

"Is this your fucking best?" I shouted to them. Blood sprayed in a mist as I spoke and I was forced to spit on the ground.

The Ork's shifted, eyes darting between the corpse of their leader and the line of men now watching them from behind me. It took only a glance to see that the mood had shifted.

The posture of the men of Ceris was no longer fearful and hesitant. Faces were hard, and eyes harder. There was a predatory eagerness now as the men, my men, looked out at their red skinned foe.

"Advance," I said calmly. "And send these fuckers back to hell."

In the moments after the massacre, I found Gills leaning against a wall. A trail of blood trickled down his temple but he looked otherwise unharmed. He glanced up at my approach and grinned.

"Will of fucking Blackbriar, huh?" He snorted and I couldn't help but smile.

"Had to make my point."

"But did you have to do it so recklessly?"

I considered this.

"Yes." I said. Gills scoffed but at the serious expression on my face, his eyebrows rose.

"The soldiers of Ceris may not follow a man, but they will follow a legend," he said, thoughtfully.

"They will follow the man they believe will lead them to victory," I said.

He leaned his head back against the stone.

"And you're that man?"

I shrugged.

"If not me, then who?"

"Ser William," I turned to see Hade wading through the soldiers towards me. His face was splattered with the blood of Orks, but his eyes burned with a newfound determination.

"The NorthEastern wall is besieged. A battle messenger just arrived. The Orks have overrun northern ramparts."

He came to a stop in front of me, chest rising and falling as he waited for my answer. I stood and turned to face the crowd of soldiers. Ork bodies lay twisted and mangled on the blood-soaked stone.

Every face that stared out at me had the same grim determination that I now felt. There was expectation in their eyes, as they gazed at me. And I knew with a sense of dread that I now carried the weight of man made myth.

There would be no taking it back.

"I mean to reclaim the Northern wall," I shouted to the sea of armored faces before me. Who stands with me?"

A hundred spears raised in the air. Men of Ceris and the city guard. Men of the 3rd Auxiliary. My men, who would follow me into battle. The tide had just shifted, and it would never go back.

There might be a day when I would come to regret my decision here. But there was no time to dwell on it.