But Tomas feared the man. He was petrified.
He had acted before he could even think of acting. He had slashed his sword against the soldier’s belly before he could even comprehend what had happened.
And now the man lay dying. Because of Tomas.
The Akurai soldier moaned in agony as he tried pushing his bowels back into his body, his cries echoed in his helmet. They were slippery and bloody; he could not get a hold of them all.
Tomas could hear the same fear in the Imperial’s pain-filled moans that he felt inside.
In the thick of it all, Tomas thought he could hear a lamb shrieking. He froze, crippled with shock.
A body barged into him from behind, knocking him down into the muck. Tomas caught himself on his hands and knees just as another fell on top of him, pushing him face-first into the very bowels of the Imperial he had just spilled.
Tomas coughed and spluttered as flesh and blood smothered him.
He lost his sword in the mess.
Tomas struggled. His hands flailed about under the weight of the bodies on top of him. Corpses and the dying surrounded him, disfigured, and battered.
The mud he slopped in was peppered with broken teeth, fingers, clumps of torn skin and pieces of weapons.
Each time he let out a gasp, his chest was crushed.
He couldn’t breathe.
A hand pulled Tomas up out from the mud. It was Rilan. “Grab something to fight with!” he screamed over the chaos.
A young soldier of the Broken Coast vanguard, no younger than Tomas and Rilan, cried out as an Imperial soldier bashed his face in with iron knuckles. His nose split open before he spat his chipped teeth out with each desperate exhale.
Rilan spun around, sticking the tip of his spear into the back of the Imperial’s helmet and deep into his head. There was a loud crack of bone and the tip of the spear came out through the Imperial’s forehead.
The soldier in black collapsed, but the boy that had been attacked was a lost cause. His face was split open and gushing with blood, unrecognisable as human anymore.
“Tomas, grab a fucking weapon!”
Tomas came to, wiping his face of the filth. He stood up, stricken with fear. His muscles were tense and his head was aching.
Wait, my shield. Tomas remembered the shield he was carrying on his back. He grabbed the strap that hung at his shoulder, bringing the round shield out in front of him. He gripped it tight- he wasn’t going to lose it like he had his sword.
Don’t hesitate. Or you’re dead.
He had killed one man- how hard could it be to do again?
The defending force pushed against the attacking Akurai Imperials. A man wielding a war hammer charged at a Akurai soldier who was easily two feet taller than him. He dodged the Imperial’s sword swing before slamming the spiked head into the man’s chest.
The tip of the war hammer burrowed deep into the Imperial’s cuirass with a crunch. The Imperial spat out a mouthful of blood as his ribs shattered, doubling over from the blow.
Another defender was there to deliver a fatal strike to the back of the Imperial’s head.
Tomas’s eyes darted wildly from side to side, waiting for the next engagement. He felt determined this time. Determined to live. To survive.
The organised lines of their army were quickly falling into chaos despite the defender’s attempt to charge back at the Akurai force.
They were being annihilated. The Akurai army seemed to be keeping some semblance of organisation, with the soldiers in black and green sticking to rows. They were far superior in gear and numbers and fought with a terrifying strength.
Tomas and Rilan stood back-to-back. Rilan had left the spear in the head of the Imperial soldier, replacing it with a spiked club he had found. The barbs on the end of the wooden shaft of the club were dripping with blood and had matted hair and a chunk of scalp still attached.
Another volley of arrows flew overhead, landing several metres behind the boys into some large groups of Imperial soldiers.
It looked as though the arrows merely bounced off their thick armour, however some appeared to be shot, falling, and crying out in pain. One was struck through the visor of his helmet, straight into the face. Another hopped out of the fray with an arrow impaled in his foot.
The Valkhor who had earlier told Tomas to quiet down fell to his knees with two arrows sticking out of his back. Tomas could not tell if the arrows had come from an Imperial or Broken Coast archer.
It was madness.
“We need to get back to where it’s safer,” Rilan gasped.
Tomas nodded in agreement. The wings of the Empire’s army were beginning to circle around the main body of the Barrowtown battalion. Most of the vanguard had been slaughtered.
Tomas eyed some flags with the Broken Coast sigil in amongst the turmoil. He had never been so happy to see that shark jaw sigil. He nudged Rilan with his elbow, pointing in the direction of potential safety.
The boys dashed towards the banner, up a hill towards the direction of the forest lining the open plain. As they ran through the uneven ground of mud, stones, grass and bodies, Tomas couldn’t help but notice he was stepping over friends and foes alike.
He didn’t care. He needed to get out of there.
Over the screams of death and shouts of rage, Tomas heard Gharland barking orders. “Group up! Prepare to be flanked!”
The captain and the other higher-ranking officers were protected by a circle by proficient men-at-arms. Britus had a clean sword drawn,
