A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Confusion reigned on all sides of the battlefield. Those that were able to cast their attention to that eastern road.

Another look in the dark, the Yarmdon men were closer now, lit up by the light of one of the burning houses… A scream, and then the unmistakable spray of blood.

"BASTARD!" Gorm cried, his anger like the thundering eruption of a volcano. He swatted his hand behind him, as a villager approached with a knife, instantly crushing the man's skull. And then he rocketed off his back foot at an impossible speed.

Within a single bound, he'd closed the distance of several metres. Beam didn't understand what was happening, he had no idea who it was that Gorm had been so angry to see. But he knew he couldn't leave the giant to his own devices, he hastened to follow, as one of his trustworthy Captains took advantage of the moment to raise morale.

"Look!" He shouted. "The giant retreats before our Commander!" He bellowed. He was thick in the midst of combat himself, covered from head to toe in blood, helping to dispatch the last of the Yarmdon, afflicted by a passion he never thought could reach him, yet still aware of all that was going on around him.

The villagers met his words with another cheer, and with renewed efforts, they set into the last of their enemy.

The Yarmdon numbers past ten, as they were cut thoroughly to pieces. Gorm look over his shoulder at the slaughter, as his eyes grew increasingly red with anger. He didn't know the name of his enemy, for he couldn't speak the man's tongue, but the word 'bastard' more than sufficed, so he screamed it once again.

"YOU BASTARD INSECT! TRICKY TO THE VERY GRAVE, WHAT ARE YOU?" Gorm roared.

The giant flew behind his men, but they were already being cut down at an impossible rate. Barely ten of them still lived – and still, Beam could not see who was doing the slaying. He looked to his right, to see Nila posted on a rooftop. She nodded to him as he ran, assuring him of her support, as she let loose another arrow, killing yet another one of those few remaining men.

There was a clang of steel, as Gorm's sword caught something. Beam couldn't see beyond the giant's back, he still didn't know what lay in weight for him, but his sword was ready, and there were barely a few strides left between himself and the enemy.

The Yarmdon that had been approaching on the road now had their back's thoroughly turned to Beam. Whatever was behind them was clearly of much more pressing importance.

A man lifted his axe, and gave out a cry, but there was a flash of something yellow, and the man's throat was torn out, and he fell to the ground a moment later.

On the opposite side, there was a roar, the cry of a loud man, as he drove his spear into the raised shield of the enemy.

"DIE ALREADY, YOU DOG!"

Now that was a voice that Beam recognized. He felt his ears perk up, like a dog whose owner had finally come home, after many long hours.

"…Judas?" He murmured under his breath. He hadn't caught sight of the former bodyguard in a good while. He'd assumed him dead, just like many of their comrades. And as Beam made it to the row of Yarmdon men, so that he could finally see past them, he discovered that he was far from being alone.

There were nine other Stormfront soldiers at his side, all of them in terrible condition, covered from head to toe in mud, as though they'd spent the last few hours buried firmly underground. But despite the state of them, there was a vitality in their actions that was proving effective, and they were forcing the Yarmdon on the defensive with their spears, making them take steps back.

And in the centre of it all, there was Lombard, with a bloodied cloth around his wrist, a stone expression on his face, and his Vice-Commander guarding his back, as the two of them tore into the Yarmdon reinforcements with such frightening efficiency that they seemed more like butchers than soldiers.

Finally, Beam could understand Gorm's irritation. He had no idea what had happened in their battle, but he could only assume from the giant's reaction that he thought Lombard to be dead.

It was Tolsey that Beam was more surprised to see. The young commander had virtually vanished as Beam himself had been lost amongst the tide of earlier soldiers. Beam had been quite sure that the man was dead, yet here he was, seeming to be well enough – aside from the terrible gash down the right-hand side of his face that rendered his eye fully closed.

Gorm set into them immediately, his rage overtaking him. He'd been stunned into immobilization for just a moment, but now his axe sped with the fury of a startled serpent, more than matching the namesake of his martial style.

"HOW?" Gorm roared, as his axe came crashing down on Lombard.

Lombard smiled a small smile, as he deftly avoided the blow – now that his sword hand had been taken, he dared not risk parrying too many blows from the giant that was Gorm.

"A waltz is done with a partner," Lombard said, "and a battle is done not just between leaders, but between their subordinates. I counted on my subordinates being superior to yours, that is all."

Gorm, of course, did not understand a single word. Beam cut down two Yarmdon men as he watched Captain Lombard and Gorm facing off against each other. He could feel somewhere behind him the battle concluding, and the villagers cut down the last of the men.

"Captain!" Tolsey said, urgently coming to Lombard's aid, as Gorm descended upon him with fury. Continue reading at m|v-l'e m,p| y- r

"Tolsey – attack him, don't defend me," Lombard said patiently. "The only way to bring down a giant is with a thousand spears."

Carefully, Beam kept an eye on their conflict, as he continued to cut down the last handful of Yarmdon men that stood in their way. He soon found himself with his back to Judas. The man gave a clear sigh of relief the second he caught sight of him, even as he wrestled away the blade of an approaching axe with the shaft of his spear.