Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 14: A Man and A Bridge

Libro ducked just in time before a rake perforated his face. A second later, the gardening tool clattered to the ground, the owner now missing most of his limbs. The body toppled aside, and the Vanguard kept moving.

So far, the charge towards the palace had been successful. Masked men died in droves by both spear and ax, unable to defeat the well trained Vangen. Soldiers tore down the Forum of Constant's, passing statues of the Empress smiling down upon them. Soon, Libro thought as he stared past one of them. Over the Sanguine Bridge and through the Grand Bazaar, and they would reach the Empress's Palace.

The rising heat of the morning had reached its peak now. A malaise settled over the city, baking the blood-soaked streets, sending shimmers into the air. The Vanguard's charge had slowed into a trot, their energy sapped by death and heat. Sweat trickled down Libro's brow, into the collar of his chain mail and lamellar.

Culter was still nowhere to be found. Libro wanted to believe that the bloodthirsty ganger had finally gotten himself killed, but he knew that wasn't the case. Ever since Culter had joined the Vangen Guard as a greenhorn, he'd murdered his way to the top faster than anyone could have believed. Killing for Culter was like an art form. His stiletto a paintbrush, and the people his canvas. Despite the heat, Libro couldn't help but shiver at the thought.

Another wave of resistance smashed into the Vanguard front, this time wielding crudely made pole-arms. The front line reacted accordingly. A shield wall formed, beating back the poorly trained pole-men before the Vangen readied their spears.

It reminded Libro of the spear-fishers back in Keevan Rahs. The fisherman would crouch in their flatboats with wide-brimmed hats, waiting patiently for hours before suddenly plucking a fish from the water.

For the Vanguard, it was just the same. Spears thrust into the crowds, and waves of masked men died. The black tide parted, and the soldiers pushed through, shoving bodies aside into the alleyways.

A murmur of apprehension passed through the Vanguard as they passed over an incline in the road. The Sanguine Bridge lay ahead, the crimson stone structure a sight for sore eyes. The bloody stone bridge ran directly over the Bosba, cleaving the city unevenly from north to south. Four high columns held the structure up from the murky waters, their arches reinforced with twisted metal struts.

Another strange shiver came over Libro as he eyed the bridge. He had only heard rumors of its construction, built during his absence in the city, how the bricks were mixed with traitor's blood before baking in the kiln. How the iron support struts had been forged from swords raised against the Empress. Most rumors like that were merely passed down by city Wardens to scare the ordinary citizens towards obedience, but Libro knew better. The Empress did not need to deal in falsehoods.

The stench of death had already begun to form over the Sanguine Bridge in the mid-morning heat. Not that it deterred the Vangen any. They passed the long-abandoned toll booth and marched six to a line down the byway.

They were halfway through when they encountered resistance once more. Rebels poured down the other side of the bridge, hellbent in stopping the Vangen. They smashed into the front lines, scrambling desperately to climb over into the back rows. The Vangen cut them down like swathes of wheat for harvest. Bodies crumpled and congested the byway, forcing the column to slow and dump them overboard. The trot slowed to a crawl.

"Keep pushing," Libro yelled, waving the standard overhead. "For the Empress!"

"For the Empress!" The Vangen repeated. The front line switched out, allowing fresh soldiers through. Vigor returned to the column, and they pressed on.

Almost there, Libro thought. A little more than halfway, and they would be through. He looked up, past the city horizon where the palace stood. Her four high towers leered down at him. Whether it was his reasoning or not, he felt as if the Empress was watching him in one of those towers, approving of his ferocity and zeal. Just like she had for the Keevan Ras of old those many years ago.

A trail of smoke in the air nearby caught Libro's eye. It curled from farther away, past a tower leading higher up. He followed the path to its source and felt his blood turn cold. A flaming boulder hurtled towards him.

"Get down!" Libro screamed as the boulder sailed past, smashing into the bridge behind the Vangen. The entire structure buckled as stone and metal exploded in all directions. Shrapnel sprayed into the backline, shredding through men. Bricks and bodies tumbled into the water below.

Libro held his ground desperately, pinning the standard into the cobblestones for leverage. The bridge tipped precariously to one side; the remaining iron supports screaming to stay in place, made to hold back the rising waters of the Bosba during the spring melt, not against an attack of such caliber.

Siege Equipment? Libro couldn't believe his eyes. How did the damned rebels get siege equipment? He looked up to the sky just as another flaming boulder came arcing over the distance.

"Everyone, off the bridge! Now!" The guardsmen charged up the byway, forgoing tactics for brutality as they carved through the rebels standing in their path.

The rebels fought back with a ferocity more akin to trained soldiers than an angry mob. More often than naught, an untrained man would flee against such odds to save his skin, but these black-robed men were different. They fought as if possessed, uncaring whether they lived or died like lambs to the slaughter.

The bridge shook against the second impact. A great rumble echoed behind Libro. He turned and watched in horror as the Sanguine Bridge began to collapse, unable to support itself any longer. Piece by piece, the structure began to topple into the brackish waters below.

"Run!" Libro screamed at the crowd of soldiers, urging them on. Vangen shoved the dead aside as they killed them, moving at an urgent pace.

And by the grace of Nido herself, the end of the bridge was soon in sight. Vangen pushed and chopped and shoved. Inch by bloody inch, they gained ground over the resistance. More of the structure collapsed, washing the Vangen in great geysers of foul-smelling wet as the massive stones struck water.

The front line fanned out as they left the bridge, cutting a path for the others. The shield wall formed once more, pushing back as more of their brothers escaped.

Cracks zigzagged beneath Libro's feet. The brick and mortar began to crumble. With a terrible squeal, the iron supports holding an arch beneath him gave way. Libro was tossed to the side, losing his grip on the standard as the supports came loose, breaking off the central pillar. Men less fortunate tumbled down into the water. Libro held on for dear life, praying for Nido's mercy.

The goddess must have heard him as the bridge began to settle. Quickly, Libro scrambled back up to his feet. The section held precariously on, propped up into an incline leading towards the end of the bridge. The surviving Vangen looked on, eyes wide in surprise at Libro's survival. The young Keev took little time to haul himself up the rubble.

Soldiers screamed at him to hurry. Others leaned down for his hand. Libro clambered up, finding purchase in the broken nooks and crannies where his hands fit. Every inch gained burned at his muscles. His head pounded, and a terrible ringing filled his ears. The hands reaching out to him were so close now. Just a little more.

The bridge buckled. Libro tensed, begging that stones would hold for just a little longer. He hauled himself up carefully, mere inches from the outstretched hands. Libro reached, grasped, brushing against one of the men's fingertips.

The bridge collapsed. Libro felt the stones give way as gravity took hold of him. His hope sank with him. Libro hit the water hard. He gasped only for cold water to fill his lungs. He flailed sluggishly in his chain mail, searching desperately for a way up, but the current was too strong. He was yanked further and further down, till his body began to beg for air, till his chest began to burn, till his vision began to fade. No, Libro pleaded. Not like this. He didn't want to die like this. He'd hoped for a warm bed and a finished Archive, not drowning in the cold waters of the Bosba.

Libro screamed, his voice reduced to a muted terror in the churning cold. No, not like this. Please, not like this.

And then the darkness consumed him.