Helix

Falcon

24 AD

"Get in. Get the gate open. And Helix, don't die."

Helix's foot slipped on the blood-slick grass, as he mentally replayed Ynyr's parting words. Carnage and chaos, steeped in the coppery scent of death, surrounded him as he regained his footing. The mangled corpses of men he had killed lay around him.

In the shadows before dawn Helix had crept alone into Auzea, a fortress situated deep in the forest. He had slipped in through an unguarded drainage ditch. In fact, nothing had been guarded. It was as if the tribesmen, led by Tacfarin himself, thought themselves secure in this half burned out husk of a place. The few men who had spotted him inside the walls never got the chance to raise the alarm.
His first kill had spiked an adrenaline rush like he'd never felt before. Disgust, exhilaration and the very real possibility of discovery, alone and surrounded by enemies, had turned him ruthless. Now he stood in the center of the battle. Roman legionnaires under a centurion named Dolabella, had streamed through the gate he'd opened a few minutes prior. Only then did the tribesmen realize they were under attack.

An angry shout drew Helix's eyes. A man with light brown skin, a stocky build and the bearing of a soldier descended a short flight of stairs into the fray. Their eyes locked. As if drawn together by an invisible cord the two men found themselves face to face, sword to sword. In a heartbeat, Helix had taken in the man's weapon, a Romans weapon, his perfect fighting stance, and the clever way he returned the appraisal.

Staying mindful of his position and all the enemies still engaged in combat around him, Helix dropped his blade into a low guard waiting for the attack. "You must be Tacfarin."

The man's eyes narrowed, "You know me. I do not know you." He did not wait for a response before unleashing a hail of blows.

Helix parried, blocked and retreated three steps.  Tacfarin was strong and quick. Not as talented as the witch woman or Ynyr, but certainly well studied in the arts of death.

Sidestepping a thrust Helix responded with a slashing cut of his own. The point of his blade cut a gash in the cloth of  Tacfarin's tunic. The Berber commander retreated a step, his eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

Helix pressed the attack, cutting first up the diagonal of his enemies body, then straight down. The first blow missed entirely the second Tacfarinas caught with his blade. As the swords caught and held in a bind the two men snarled at each other.

Between the space of two breaths, the air thickened. It was not the thickening like Helix had felt with Ynyr's with power. This was different. More subtle.

Tacfarin gave a loud growl, stepped free of the bind then resurged with blindingly fast attacks. The battlefield around them faded into the background as Helix devoted his entire skill set to fighting the man before him.

Block! Slash! Parry!

Curses flew from Helix's mouth as a glancing blow sliced the side of his head just above the ear. The cut was not deep, but still, blood gushed from it. Snarling through the pain the younger man blocked a blow meant to decapitate him and went on the offensive. Talented opponent or no, he was not going to die in this gods-forsaken place, at the hands of some rebel deserter!

Unleashing a flurry of blows, Helix shouted, "I am Helix Lycon!"

Tacfarin gave first one step to the onslaught, then another, and another. His eyes went wide. "You Can't...I am gods blessed!" Four more steps back and Helix's blade swept under his guard drove upward and impaled the Berber commanders throat.