His volunteers gathered beside him, forming two ranks that lay across the width of the street. They loaded their rifles, while those without aimed whatever they had at the cavalry approaching from the western gate. Their silver curtain of blades and armour rattled but they could not shake the defenders off their feet.
Arminius lifted himself off his sword and held onto the shoulder of a volunteer soldier, pointing the tip of his blade at the Rus. “Eb weres sdreber… wurisk kamrædne wille leber fer wurisk rænnreng… (If we are to die… our comrades will live for us…)” The lieutenant pledged, wheezing, but with a commanding voice. “Eb weres hœlle faller… wer wille alle tjeher wit jegne… (If we are going to hell… let us drag them with us…)” He placed a curse on himself and his enemies, a bond that not even the heavens could break.
The defenders let out a cry as they braced, knowing they could only fire once or twice if their hands were quick before they would become overrun. However, they could not yet tell, but the Confederates had slowed themselves to a trot. It was already odd that they were not galloping at full speed down a perfectly straight avenue, but glory had never been their aim.
The squadron slowed down to an eventual walk, and it became clear that they did not wish to battle. Confused, the defenders moved their heads away from the stocks of their rifles and brought their fingers away from their triggers. They could not believe what was unfolding and were wondering whether or not they had already perished. The cavalry soon came to a complete halt, and its mounted soldiers reeled on their reins, holding back their warhorses tricked into thinking that they would be the first to see action. Despite the previous fact that they had the advantage and that they could have easily crushed the defenders, whose numbers were few, standing twenty paces away, the Rus have relinquished their want for battle as if they had miraculously agreed to an armistice.
As both forces stared at each other with no sense of aggression coming from either front, the lieutenant felt as though their situation was being manipulated by one man, the leader of the Confederate squadron, on his precious, white steed. He came forth and emerged out of the vanguard, his armour cladding his entire body from head to toe, red with a tint of silver, but its colour did not come from physical blood. Its shade had shifted having sensed the bloodshed in the air.
Dismounting with his glaive on his shoulder, the squadron’s commander took a few paces forward and stopped before his enemies, who were wondering what he had in mind, mesmerised by his profound air. “Is that you, Regen?” The colonel shouted, summoning one whose name no one had heard of.
Recognising his voice, the boy in question came out of hiding with his sword lowered, and his allies gave way as he limped out of formation, showing himself to the colonel. “Eos… what do you want…?” Arminius coldly greeted him.
Eos had not noticed until he neared his enemy the demeanour of the survivors who had pledged to defend that street to the death. His enemy had sacrificed themselves, and they were not yet broken, but he knew from experience that out of everyone he had ever fought against, the lieutenant who he called Regen was the only candidate capable of rallying the injured, and the weak. Fortunately, he intervened early to prevent a repeat of their debacle at the bridge.
Setting the shoe of his glaive on the ground, the colonel changed the course of the wind. “You are an honourable man, Regen, staying your injured to slow us for the sake of your comrades.” Eos praised him not out of goodness in his heart but admiration. “I commend that.”
“Since you’re here… would you mind if we spoke… over a cup of tea…?” Arminius jested, his frame weak and crumbling in comparison to the colonel’s. “I think that’d give them enough time… to evacuate…” He spoke honestly, without needing to conceal the truth.
“I heard, and I know his deceit knows no bounds.” Eos sympathised, for he was no stranger to the torment his comrade could bring. “But I am no Aurelius Radilov.” He assured him.
Arminius glared at the colonel, who reached out his hand and ordered his cavalry to withdraw, implying that there were terms he was ready to grant if the boy could fulfil what he wanted in return.
His hand was clenched into a fist as he pressed the shaft of his glaive against his back. “I offer you a duel, Regen.” Eos declared his challenge, but upon seeing the defeated body of his opponent, he changed his usual rules out of kindness. “Regardless of its outcome, your men will see safety.” Hoping that it was to the satisfaction of the lieutenant, he promised him.
Arminius scoffed, sensing that his allies were prepared to give their lives in case he denied the offer. They began to tense their grip on their rifles and nothing would change their hearts’ desire to die fighting on their native soil, but that was not what the lieutenant wished for to begin with.
Consulting with his soul, he turned to his sword that reflected a mired image of his face. “Fine… You’ve kept your word before…” Arminius agreed to the dismay of many.
Unsurprised that he would agree to his offer, Eos nodded and, as he promised, directed his cavalry to filter away under the lead of his lieutenants. With fatigued eyes, Arminius turned to his wounded regiment, who did not quite know what they had been negotiating, and only when they had heard it from their bilingual comrades did their eyes widen out of shock.
The deal was done, and they had no say, but they were all free to leave. Most were hesitant, and it felt wrong that they were forsaking their young lieutenant, but some who felt that they must respect the will of the boy who had signed his death warrant for the sake of themselves rose after much consideration. More stood up and turned their backs on him, feeling a deep sense of guilt. They thanked him and slowly made for the pier, shuffling along under the guidance of one cavalry detachment. The sound of puddles splashing and soles scraping along the street grew, as the bombardment of two fleets fighting afar continued to thunder in the air. The wounded marched towards the gates of life again under the careful watch of their enemy turned temporary protectors, but they did so in exchange for the life of another.
Arminius knew that he could have done more, saved more, if only he had been more careful, but this outcome was preferable over losing everything. If he could exchange his soul for thousands in return, then it was enough for him.
Standing apart, the two lone soldiers waited with patience and in silence, as the infantry was still far from arriving. It was not long until everyone else had gone, leaving in their stead the voices of rain and ruins.
Cutting the palm of his hand and letting his blood stick to his shaft, Eos was the first to move. “I am sorry, Regen. I could not have simply freed everyone.” The knight apologised, turning his glave into an open grip. “I still have my orders as a soldier of the Rus.” Though he wished that he could survive their encounter, it was in his constitution that life must be earned through the sacrifice of another, and he added, hoping that the lieutenant would understand.
“No… don’t be…” Arminius interrupted him and said. "I’m just tired... that’s all..."
His sword was brought away from the ground, and he felt his leg waver, but he managed to make ready himself for his last duel. Widening his posture, he guarded himself, even if there was little chance of him ever winning. He remembered his childhood of grief and torture that he once thought he was unable to recall, and placed both his hands on the hilt of his sword and held his blade by his face. Leaning forward, he bent one knee and pressed his other foot into the ground. His eye was red with blood, and his vision was impaired. He sensed the tree of death lingering around him, a presence he had not felt since the Blitz, but he paid it no mind. There was not a drop of Arminius left that wanted to do battle, and in his heart was a desolate place without a sliver of hope.441Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0qqsoeTqNK
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