Sample: Fracture - Prologue

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A chill lingered in Tartarus's spring air. With a drowsy mind and clumsy feet, Xander stepped off his hay-stuffed mattress and scratched idly at a louse in his unkempt hair.

The Thalassan lieutenant eased his weight back and forth on unsteady legs. His right leg still ached where a Gaian shortsword has punctured his calf muscle and just his own body weight was discomforting, to say the least. He glanced at his armor heaped on a chair. It seemed wrong to avoid wearing it, especially given his surroundings, but another twenty pounds of armor would only aggravate the wound only just fully sealed. It took over a month for it to heal properly because Xander continued to tear the struggling muscle open repeatedly. A good remedy for that? A few days doing nothing besides lying in bed. However, that did little to boost the ego or alieve the clumsiness Xander felt with his every move.

His hands lumbered about too. With broken bones in his left wrist that rendered his arm in a sling, it was all he could do to keep from laughing at his hobbled reflection. 

“Victor,” Xander called into the next room. 

The young guardsman quickly responded to his superior’s command. Xander glanced at the youth with jealousy as his deft, unharmed, hands went about dressing the officer. He helped him into a dirty white tunic followed by his tattered blue cloak trimmed in yellow. Xander lifted his right arm while the guardsman strapped on his lieutenant’s baldric, a belt across the chest carrying his holstered pistol. The baldric buckled to the hip belt next, cinched tighter because of the lack of armor and perhaps a pound or two lost since the battle. Xander shifted his sword into place at his side. The weight of the iron falchion seeming to drag his left hip down for an instant before he straightened his back. His chain came last, twenty large links of silver that draped about his shoulders as a symbol of the status he held in Thalassa’s military.

“A walk today might do some good,” Xander declared.

“You said that last week,” Victor argued. When Xander shot him a glance the young soldier only shrugged. “Whatever you think best, L-T.”

Xander said short farewells to the men of his crew lingering in the manor’s kitchen. They all resided with Brennus’ crew under the roof of Tartarus’ First Captain, a man called Donovan who must have had other means of coin by the looks of his furnishings. Xander recalled the villain with a scowl and cursed under his breath to the gods that he may reside in a grave of torment. Donovan had struck the first blow in centuries against a Thalassan, Xander’s prince and friend no less, and thus sparked the bitter war that dragged hundreds of men and women to their deaths.

Tartarus has been spared for the most part, the twenty-four year old officer thought when he stepped onto the cobblestone street before Donovan’s manor. Tens of thousands of Gaians still lived there, albeit under Thalassan rule, and their lives went about in peace so long as they chose not to disturb it. Shopkeepers granted the boon of keeping their shops, other men and women still working their jobs, all did as they saw fit. The true difference was that now the Gaians lived in an occupied city. Sure, some had fled when their soldiers did, but most remained there and continued on as they always had. Thalassan influence leaned a little more on the strict side than their governor’s had been, however, so many of the thugs and gambling dens had found themselves out of work when policing became an issue.

A local tavern was just setting up for the day and although Xander’s mouth still reeked of a night’s sleep he ventured inside with Victor close behind. He had a purse of coins collected from dead enemies after the battle and he dug into it to find a few copper pieces. Tossing them on the bar Xander eased himself onto a stool with the grace of a man plagued with bone disease.

The tavern was a dilapidated structure of aged oak. It may have been the crowning joy for the barkeep’s father or even grandfather at one point but that time had come and gone. The tables barely stood on legs that bore holes suggesting a termite infestation, and the ceiling seemed as likely to hold off rain as it was to collapse. Xander shielded his mind by counting the bottles of wine set up along the back of the bar as the owner strode over.

“What’ll it be?” the Gaian barkeep inquired.

“Wine,” Xander replied, “with just a touch of water.”

“You got it,” the barkeep answered and within seconds a cup sat before the drowsy officer.

“How much longer will we have to stay here?” Victor asked suddenly.

Xander clenched his eyes shut at the sound of another voice. “Until we leave.”

“If that was a joke it wasn’t very funny,” Victor replied. “I tire of this place. I want to go home.”

“We’ve only been here just over a month,” Xander exclaimed. “Victor, I told you when Brennus sallies forth to raid any villages or scouting parties you’re more than welcome to go. It’s your choice to stay back and do nothing.”

“I’m no good with a blade,” Victor said absently.

“Good enough with a spear,” Xander assured his young friend. His mind flickered back to the battle for an instant. He squeezed his eyes shut and took another sip of wine. “Get out and do something. It makes no sense to stay cooped up in Tartarus when you have all your health to go out and get something done. Slay a Gaian for me.” The barkeep shot both soldiers a look and Xander smirked. “I mean no harm, friend.”

“I’ve killed enough,” Victor said with a dismal tone to his voice.

“Have you killed thirty-thousand Gaians?” Xander asked. “That’s how many they have in their armies. Until we kill them we’re stuck here.”

“You’re not in the most cheerful mood today, are you?” Victor asked, his voice suddenly angry.

“I never asked you to come with me,” Xander said.

“Fine,” Victor replied, and with that stalked from the tavern.

Xander felt a fleeting moment of wanting to call his friend back but suppressed the urge. On days like this one it was best to just be alone for a little while. Victor would get over it. Xander stared at the drink before him and swirled the cup in a vain attempt to crush the uneasiness in his belly. Being alone in the Gaian city would not be recommended for any soldier, and particularly for one as notorious as the scarred officer at the bar.

“You’ve nothing to fear here, son of Nemo,” the barkeep said from across the tavern as he scrubbed at a sticky mess on the floor.

Xander cringed, partially at the title but more at the Gaian’s flexing of his extrasensory skills. As an orphan of Thalassa, born to Gaian parents with no extrasensory powers of his own, Xander was identified as a son of Nemo. “No one” as it translated in the old tongue. He took a sip of his wine and turned his amber gaze towards the Gaian.

“What I mean is,” the barkeep elaborated, “we’ve seen better times under your Sir Arkouda than we saw under Ultan. Thievery is down, business is blossoming back to normalcy, and over the past month I haven’t lost any clientele due to any underground organizations as well.”

“Glad to hear that some of our work doesn’t go unnoticed,” the lieutenant said, lifting his

cup in a toast. “But I daresay that many Gaians here would not share your point of view.”

The barkeep shrugged. “You’re right about that. What Gaia thinks and what I think are probably two completely different sentiments.”

“I once knew a barkeep that shared those views,” Xander said, but revealed no more. Stefan was a Gaian himself, and a good man willing to go the extra mile for those he’d been taught to hate, but it would not do to let anyone else know of the bond he shared with him. Xander shoved his Gaian friend from his mind and took another sip of wine.

“Xander,” a booming voice exclaimed from the doorway. “Just the man I was looking for.”

The officer turned to find Arkouda of House Xiphos filling the threshold. He wore muscle like an ox and stood taller than six feet. The sheathed sword at his side looked like a child’s toy.

“Well don’t just sit there like a cripple, let’s go,” the knight said.

“Where are we going?” Xander asked and cringed as he eased himself off the stool. He drained the rest of his wine and slapped the clay cup back on the bar.

“My brother is here,” Arkouda explained with a broad grin. “He has a mind to speak with you.”

*

Lord Thanos of Anapos shuffled through parchment at Governor Ultan’s desk. Most of it must have belonged to the late governor, yet Thanos’ frustration increased with each piece he tossed aside. He motioned vaguely for Xander and Arkouda to stand by.

Xander waited patiently as the nobleman continued his work. Ultan’s office was a jumble of disarray, with open books laying on the ground and fiercely burning candles dripping wax all over the mahogany desk. Thanos stretched his back and grunted in satisfaction as a series of cracks notched up his spine.

“My brother tells me you exemplified a good deal of valor in the battle,” Lord Thanos began, placing his parchment down and standing from the desk. He rose to a height that matched his younger brother’s towering frame, but lacked the muscle that accompanied it. Thanos is clearly the thinker in this family, Xander couldn’t help but note as he looked over the lanky man. Thanos motioned for them to follow him.

“My talents may have been exaggerated by the men around me,” Xander replied, lifting his left arm in its sling as if to say he might not be as skilled as one might think.

“I wasn’t speaking of your prowess, soldier,” Thanos said as they walked from the office and into the great hall of Ultan’s manor. They continued towards the cellar door. “Courage speaks volumes of the heart of a man.”

Xander took a moment to search for words. “I suppose I should thank Sir Arkouda for being so generous in his praise.”

“Arkouda is not typically known for generosity,” Anapos’ lord stated. His brother chortled. “So perhaps it was not mere praise but an overview he has taken of you. The rumors are that you slew Tartarus’ First Captain, among many others, as you plowed your way across the battlefield.”

Xander had a fleeting moment of his own savagery flash before his eyes. He winced and followed Thanos down the cellar stairs. “Some of that is true, yes. Though the captain, Donovan, was slain after the battle had already been won. He and his lieutenant were seeking out lone Thalassans to engage and he became particularly interested in me.”

Thanos stopped short and turned to the two men following him. His grey eyes searched Arkouda’s face first before resting upon Xander’s. “This Donovan is the same man who you claim had taken Prince Daemyn’s life.”

“At the orders of Nicolette, daughter of Trevor,” Xander conceded. “I have no evidential proof. It is merely what he claimed. My heart tells me it was indeed that man, though.”

“Regardless of whether he pulled the trigger to Daemyn’s pistol or not,” Thanos declared, “you accomplished a great feat in his demise.”

“Thank you, lord,” Xander replied with a bowed head. He could not help but glance at the pistol strapped to his own chest. The oaken handle was blackened by time and care with oil. The butt had a sheet of gold stretching to the silver trigger housing. The barrel, hammer, and the trigger were black iron. It was the most expensive weapon Xander owned. And well it should have been, for it had belonged to a prince.

Thanos continued walking through the dark cellar with nothing but dying torches along the walls to light their way. An array of weapons, armor, and clothing littered the cellar, but nothing else. What seemed strangest was that none of it was Gaian from what Xander could tell. The green cloaks he expected to find turned out to be brown, like the ones Thanos and Arkouda wore.

“I would like you to return to Pontos for the time being,” Thanos said abruptly. He stopped before the cloaks. “We have to give these biweekly reports of how we and the city are doing. I need someone to leave on the morrow.”

Xander took a step back. “If you think I’m not fit for duty—”

“I assure you it has nothing to do with that,” Thanos said. He scratched idly at his groomed  

beard. “You’re a recognized name of our people and would be a welcome sight back in the city you used to guard. And it would give your arm and leg time to heal.”

“Aye, my lord,” Xander acquiesced.

“I shall let Brennus know the details if he has any problems with it,” Thanos continued. “I know he is your direct superior. This takes precedence, however. They get anxious in the royal city when we don’t report in. As if the whole force could be obliterated and they would never find out.”

“Just my crew will go, then?” Xander inquired.

“Yes,” Thanos said. “It is only a few days journey. Your men could all use the rest, I’m certain. There will be other men to take your places within a couple days anyway. Such is the way of this rotation until they decide to pull us back. I have half a mind to send my brother with you. Perhaps a knight could help persuade the royal family that we need to pull out of this city. It’s only a matter of time…”

“If they come in strength we will crush them,” Arkouda announced gruffly. He nudged Xander and the young lieutenant felt obligated to chuckle. Gods, let’s pray they don’t.

“It is not a question of ‘if,’ brother,” Thanos replied. “It is a question of when. Why else would they send their little patrols in our area? Reconnaissance. They want to know where we’re strong and where we’re not. And right now we have fifteen-hundred men occupying a city of several-hundred thousand. I appreciated the notion of retaliating after what happened to Anapos, but the fact is that we were sent here without further orders and it would be suicide to linger long.”

Silence lingered in the air as if Thanos had just released the greatest secret in the world and they hoped the enemy was not listening. Arkouda began to clear his throat but his older brother cut  

him off. “My apologies, Xander. Complaints are meant to go up the chain, not down. I should not have spoken ill of our… orders. I’ve already written a request for us to return to Thalassa as it is.”

“It’s quite all right, my lord,” Xander replied. He thought quickly. “Perhaps I should be the one to speak with Captain Brennus about my own orders. I don’t want it to seem like something from the grapevine…”

“Brennus’ opinion hardly matters, but do what you will. I need you on your way at dawn tomorrow. I’ll have papers sent to your quarters this evening.” Thanos took one of the brown woolen cloaks trimmed in black off a hook and held it up for Xander to see. “If you ever wish to wear one of these… All you need to do is ask.”

The lieutenant beamed. “I would be honored. Perhaps after this business in Pontos?”

“Having a warrior of your reputation would only strengthen Anapos,” Thanos said.

* *

Xander limped along the eastern part of Tartarus with frustration. After searching for Brennus for over an hour he finally found the captain wading along the shoreline up to his knees. He had his hand over his eyes to shade out a zealous sun, scanning the waves as if quite suddenly a fleet would erupt from the shallows.

“You never know when the Gaians might be coming,” Brennus announced as Xander drew near.

The lieutenant hobbled forward and stood just at the edge of the waterline, where the salty waves just barely kissed the toes of his battered boots. Brennus only then turned to look at who joined him and his gray eyebrows raised just slightly.

“I thought you were Caedmon,” the captain admitted. He looked tired that day. Although he had not taken a wound in the battle, his eyes were hollow and his shoulders slouched. His voice remained as hearty as ever but his dark hair was thinning. His paunch had recently disappeared but it was difficult to discern whether his wired muscle resulted from a lack of proper food and sleep or the constant patrols sent around the city. 

“If only things were easier for us,” Xander said. “If we could read the whoresons’ minds the playing field might be evened out a little.”

“Bah,” Brennus grunted with a wave of his hand. “I prefer to not be like them at all.”

Xander thought about that for a moment. Some Gaians had redeeming qualities, and even one he had fallen in love with, but he took care not to mention any of that. “I’ve been ordered to give reports to Pontos. I leave tomorrow.”

Brennus nodded. He turned back to the sea. “Well I suppose it will be a while before I see you again, then.”

“Looks that way, sir,” Xander answered. He chewed the inside of his cheek in contemplation. “Lord Thanos says I must go, regardless… I wanted to know where you’d like me after all is said and done, though. Another ship will be here shortly to replace the loss of my crew.”

“Speaking of your crew,” Brennus began, “are you tired of wearing that blue and yellow, yet?”

Xander glanced at the hem of his cloak. “You know I only did it to represent Aldous in this battle. He was so prickly about my promotion. I just try to do what I think is best.”

“Aye,” Brennus conceded. “I know, boy. You’ve got a kind heart.” He pushed his lieuten

ant lightly.

“About that…”

“What, you don’t think you’re a sweetheart?”

“Thanos offered me a brown cloak,” Xander said. He cringed involuntarily. “I’ve a mind to take him up on the offer.”

Brennus kneaded the dark circles under his eyes. “Let’s do things a step at a time, lad. You do this errand for Thanos and then when we are all together again more formally we can discuss it. There’s no sense in you switching cloaks just for the sake of new scenery.”

“Anapos has a better warriors’ reputation than Pontos.”

“All the same, for now it’s time to wear Coren’s colors again.”

“Does that go for you, too?” Xander asked mischievously. Brennus wore the same crimson cloak as the rest of the watchmen and officers of House Coren but his bore a golden sun in the center.

“Leave an old man and his foolish ego alone, would you?”

Xander smiled. “I’ll change my colors before I leave.”

“It’ll make for a grander entrance to Pontos, anyway. Don’t even act like you don’t feed that ego too. You’ll just have to stay there when your business is concluded, by the way,” Brennus said. “I’ll have no way of knowing where you are, otherwise. I’m sure my crew and I will be relieved at some point here, too.”

The lieutenant nodded absently.

“Well this will give you something to do anyway,” Brennus said suddenly. He turned away from the waves and grinned. “No more sitting on your laurels.”

“I don’t sit on my laurels as it is,” Xander argued, but felt little truth in the statement. He had proved himself in the battle but since then had done little more than sleep, eat, and shit.

“That’s a laugh,” a familiar voice said from behind. Xander smiled before he turned. Caedmon stood with a smirk and folded arms. “I know you’ve been sleeping all day for a while now. Our crew has had to pick up your rounds.”

“I told you to grab my men when you need them,” Xander said.

The battle’s aftermath was brutal for some but it had come with an extra helping of responsibility for Xander’s closest friend. Caedmon had not only been recently promoted to watchman, but had taken the place of First Watchman since Murchadh had been sent back to Pontos with a lost eye.

“Aye,” Caedmon agreed. “Well, I would… but you two sound like you were talking about leaving. So I guess we have to pick up even more of your slack.”

“You’re an ass,” Xander said. “How was your last skirmish?”

“There’s only been one since we’ve been doing these patrols. We do at least one a day but they’re fairly tame for the most part,” Caedmon said with a shrug. “The last one we got into was only with a few Gaian citizens. Two of them knew how to use bows. Well… they almost did. One of my boys took an arrow in the thigh before we threw some lead in their direction. No dead for us, but our kills weren’t military kills anyway. Two women and three men, all wearing rags. I think they would have just as likely attacked a Gaian patrol if they thought they could get some food out of it.”

“This city is a cesspool,” Brennus grunted. “It stinks of crime. Just another reason we should pull back to our own territory. You should tell ‘em that, Xander, when you get to Pontos.”

Xander laughed and thought of Thanos’ grumblings.

“I’m being serious, now!” Brennus said with a nervous laugh of his own. “We need to get the hell out of here. You know how many people are in this city?”

“Several-hundred thousand citizens,” Xander answered quickly.

“Several-hundred thousand Gaians, lad,” Brennus said. “If they wanted to they could chew us up and spew us into the sea. Burn our ships, rape our women, torture our men, and the gods know what else they could think of. Let alone if some proper soldiers start forming up on the outskirts of this place.”

“I’ll let the regent know,” Xander said. His brow furrowed sternly. “I’m sure that will go over well.”

“You and Patrick are old pals,” Caedmon jested. His blue eyes held no laughter, however. “Just remind him about that time you saved his life in Triton. Tell him there’s men and women that need saving over here, now.”

Xander allowed a smile but said nothing. He knew what Caedmon drove at even if it wasn’t spoken aloud. Some things could be deciphered by anyone in the silence, Gaian or not. Caedmon had gotten close with a woman guardsman in his squad named Saija. In the battle she had taken an arrow to her lower left side. It didn’t seem like a horrific wound but it had become infected quickly and for a couple weeks everyone was unsure about her fate. Her health had only just recently begun improving. Saija had fought through the infection and when her coloring had returned so did her demeanor.

Brennus clapped his lieutenant on the back. “I don’t say it often enough but I’ve come to like you, Xander. I’m gonna’ miss you, lad.”

“Thank you, sir,” Xander said. After a pause he added, “I believe Lord Thanos is including a written request for us to return to Thalassa, anyway. He implied as much when I talked to him today.”

“That’s a step in the right direction,” Caedmon said.

Brennus rubbed his eyes in agitation. “May the gods protect you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Xander replied. He nodded to them both and limped his way back to Donovan’s house. That’s certainly enough movement for one day, he thought with a grimace. And the next day would start a trek of a few hundred miles.

To find out what happens to Xander and Caedmon, check out Fracture for $0.99!

If you feel like you want to see a bit more, look into my sample for Severance.