The Champion, Page 3

  “Wouldn’t he though?” Grace demanded. “Maybe he’s bored of us. Wants to wipe the slate clean. When we attack, we don’t drop below the red line. That only happens if we get attacked from below and lose.”

  “So he might throw us away on a suicide mission and get new contenders to replace us?” Amber asked.

  “Why not?” Grace asked. “He’s done it before.”

  Cade let out a long breath. “He did mention there would be new contenders, didn’t he?” He tried to remember. “Right before my battle with the alpha—something about getting help?”

  “So … we’re going to meet them before the attack?” Scott asked.

  “Or maybe they’re the ones who will replace us,” Grace retorted.

  Cade wished he could remember the exact wording of what Abaddon had said. But it had felt like they would be given help.

  “Look,” he said, holding up his hands. “I can’t read Abaddon’s mind. Who knows what sick motivations he has. But what I can tell you is he doesn’t lie.”

  “Yeah, right…,” Grace muttered.

  “If he said we’ll be getting help, then I believe him,” Cade went on. “Quintus, do you know if there are any missing legions that he might place in the keep—we know he has a thing for Romans.”

  But Quintus wasn’t listening. He was standing on his sled, staring out across the plains.

  “Quintus?”

  The young legionary turned, and Cade saw the hint of a smile upon his friend’s face.

  “I see something.”

  He beckoned Cade to jump up, and Cade did, blinking as he left their makeshift shade. Quintus pointed.

  At first, Cade could not see anything, his eyes yet to adjust to the glare. But then, as he focused, he saw it, just to the right of the sun’s place above the horizon.

  It was small, almost a stain on the white of the salt flats. But the more he looked, the more he could make out. A structure. Alone in the sea of sand.

  “Well, at least we’re not going on a wild goose chase,” Cade announced. “Come on … if we hurry we can get there before nightfall.”

  * * *

  They approached as the sun set, the structure casting a long shadow toward them as they staggered the last hundred feet of their day’s journey.

  It was a ruin. It was made of stone, though the outsides were blackened with the fire that had destroyed what must have once been a fort.

  A crumbling tower at its front dominated their view, with a ring wall in varying states of disrepair behind it. Strangely, there was a wide space open beneath the tower, with large, iron gates rusted off their hinges lying in the sand in front of it.

  It was, as far as Cade could tell, human in origin. But then … who knew what their enemy was capable of?

  “What is it?” Scott called out.

  The Codex zoomed off, though the question was not necessarily addressed to it. In a flash of blue, it scanned the fort, before returning to its original position.

  “The harbor settlement of Jomsborg was completed in 965 in northwestern Poland, by order of the Danish king Harold Bluetooth, as recorded in the Viking sagas of Knytlinga Saga and Fagrskinna.”

  Cade stared at the fort, realizing that it must contain an entire village within, and that the wide space beneath the tower may well have been the harbor entrance for ships. Excitement, and even a tinge of hope, fluttered through his chest, but with an equal measure of disappointment. The fire damage on the outside told him that much of what was once there would have been burned to a crisp.

  “Did he say bluetooth?” Scott asked.

  “Yes,” the Codex replied in its robotic voice.

  “That’s what Bluetooth was named after,” Cade said, remembering that bit of trivia from the long historical documentaries he once watched with his father. “The inventor was a fan of Viking history.”

  He grabbed the rope and moved forward.

  “Come on. If it’s a trap, there’s not much we can do about it.”

  CHAPTER

  7

  Cade hurried ahead, dragging the sled behind him, new strength coming to him with the anticipation of rest. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and his sweat-soaked clothes were beginning to chill. There was not much hope of finding wood for them to burn, but if it was to be their final destination, they could burn the sleds.

  He staggered through the entryway with trepidation, for the stone above seemed to be held up by dust alone. Yet, once they emerged from beneath, they found themselves in a space far larger than he had expected.

  It was a village, that was for sure, made up of a series of stone shells that had no roofs at all. But strangely, there was a wide, open basin in front of where the houses stood, with wooden platforms built into the air.

  Cade realized that they were standing in the harbor itself—now devoid of water. The wooden platforms must have been the jetties, surviving the fire thanks to the water they had once sat upon.

  Not so the houses, which were more blackened and decrepit than he had thought they would be. Many had fallen to rubble, but the tower itself was made entirely of stone, and was the only building in the vicinity that might afford proper shelter. He only hoped it would not collapse when they entered.

  “I wonder how long this has been here,” Yoshi said.

  Cade was wondering the same thing, but since it had never been scanned, there was no way of knowing. His only clue was the yellowing grass that remained—suggesting it had been here in the desert only a few years.

  It might have lain in ruin on Earth for centuries before Abaddon teleported it into stasis, ready to be dropped on Acies at a moment’s notice. One thing was for sure: This was no coincidence.

  “Codex, do we continue following the sun tomorrow?” Cade asked.

  The Codex floated silently, and ignored his question.

  “Great,” he groaned before turning to the group.

  “I know we’re all tired. But we have to take advantage of the light before it gets dark. Let’s split into two groups—Amber, Grace, Scott, you circle left. Bea, Trix, Yoshi, circle right. Anything we can burn, any tools, anything at all, bring it back here. Quintus and I will watch the sleds, see if we can’t get the Codex to tell us what’s going on.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” Scott said, throwing an exaggerated salute.

  This earned him a good-natured shove from Grace, and the two groups trudged away.

  When their footsteps had receded, Cade sat down heavily beside Quintus on the legionary’s sled.

  “You think your legion came here first?” Cade asked, after waving for his friend’s attention.

  Quintus shrugged and pointed at the ground where their footsteps had tracked in sand and salt from the desert.

  “No marks but our marks,” he said.

  Cade sighed. He supposed it was for the best—retreading the same path the Roman army had taken could only lead to their defeat. After all, what could they achieve that three thousand trained soldiers could not?

  “Codex, do we fight tomorrow?” Cade called.

  Silence.

  “Thanks, real helpful.”

  Quintus shuffled his feet and kicked a small pebble down the cobbles.

  “Come,” Quintus said. “We must see if safe.”

  The legionary staggered forward, wincing at his aching muscles. Cade followed suit, but to his surprise, the entrance to the gatehouse and its tower was halfway up the stonework beside the gates, as if those who had once occupied it could fly. But of course, Cade realized, the entrance would have been at water level, which he now knew had been at least fifteen feet above them. The remnants of barnacles, calcified along the gatehouse’s base, confirmed his theory.

  They curved right, walking up the slope along the wall, until they found some stairs. There they walked back along the ramparts, peering into the village for a glimpse of their friends. But there must have been at least a hundred dwellings there blocking their view.

  If Cade had been hoping for wea
ponry, or any other useful items on the walls, he was disappointed. The place had been picked clean, likely by the locals who had lived near the ruin over the years, as it lay empty in its harbor. Of course, that would have been before Abaddon had taken it.

  They reached the gatehouse, and the tower at its top. This too was practically empty. A broken chair, simple and wooden, lay in the entrance. Dust, rags, the iron rim of an old barrel were within the main room, and an open room adjacent yielded only broken crockery and a splintered table. Nothing but firewood.

  Still, there was a spiral staircase built into the inside, and after a brief pause to catch their breaths, the pair mounted the steps. It was like a small lighthouse, and when they reached the peak, Cade could see the remains of two giant braziers there, screwed so tightly into the walls that no one would have been able to scavenge them. These must have been used as signal fires.

  But it was not these that fascinated him. “Whoa,” Cade said, stumbling toward a catapult resting upon a stone platform. But the ancient piece of siege equipment was no longer workable. The ancient ropes that had once powered it had long since rotted away, and the timber that made up its frame had warped.

  Beside it was a pile of perfectly round stones. At the very least, they could drop these on an invader’s head as they rushed through the open harbor entrance.

  It was a paltry find, but Cade was not willing to let their good fortune go unnoticed. He held up his hand for a high five. Quintus stared at it blankly.

  “Oh…,” Cade said. “Right, I forgot.”

  High fives weren’t a thing in Roman times.

  Instead, he clapped his friend on the back.

  “It’s something,” he said, half to himself.

  Quintus perched on the tower’s edge and beckoned Cade to join him. They dangled their legs and stared out over the sunset. Tomorrow they may well die. But for now, he was with his best friend, watching the sun set.

  * * *

  They slept fitfully that night. The beds at the keep, paltry though they were, seemed like heaven compared to these simple mats of sackcloth laid out on the cold, uneven cobbles of Jomsborg’s gatehouse.

  To Cade’s dismay, their search had turned up nothing. Only broken furniture that they used to fuel their hungry little fire, its low crackling echoing through the empty shell that was their new shelter.

  It was a huge step down from their home at the keep. And as they had settled down for the night, Cade could think of nothing to say to lift their spirits.

  So it was no surprise that as the dawn light filtered through the arrow slits of the gatehouse, he saw his friends were all awake as well.

  The relief of the end of their desert trek had been replaced by trepidation. A battle was to come. And they might not all survive it.

  Yet there was nothing to do but wait. The Codex remained silent, no matter how often they cajoled it.

  “So…,” Scott said, stretching. “Who’s up for a bit of dinomeat?”

  He reached into the sack he had been using as a pillow and tossed a shred of the stuff to Cade, before stuffing another into his mouth.

  Cade looked at the wrinkled, black-singed morsel that was about as tough as leather. He lifted a tentative hand and placed it on his tongue.

  To his surprise, it had a pleasant smoky taste, though he had to swig a gulp of water to help chew up the toughened flesh. At the very least, it was edible.

  The crew huddled around Scott’s bag, each taking a piece of their own and sighing with relief as their hunger abated. They had not tried the meat the day before, for it was packed deep among the sleds, and had preferred the sweet fruit from the orchards to keep them going.

  Cade allowed himself a moment to relax, the sounds of concentrated chewing all that could be heard.

  Or … was it?

  There was a strange noise coming from outside. Halfway between a bird and an insect, a buzzy trill that was almost musical in its utterance.

  In an instant, he was at the window, seeking out approaching enemies in the desert. He let out a strangled gasp, choking on the jerky as he pointed wildly.

  The desert was no longer there. In its place … was another world.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Purple. Covering the rolling landscape like a cloak. There was not a single tree visible, only the waving fronds of violet fields, stretching on in an endless expanse.

  Whatever creature had made the noise was nowhere to be seen, likely hidden among the tall grass. They were in another place. Lost, on a piece of another world.

  “Holy shit,” Yoshi breathed beside Cade.

  The others crowded around the single window, and then Cade heard footsteps running.

  “Come on,” Amber called, and Cade turned to see her rushing up the stairs.

  He followed, heart pounding, mounting the steps two at a time. At the top, he staggered to the parapet, careful of the crumbling rocks that dislodged as he leaned against it.

  The rubble tumbled down, landing on a crust of sand and salt. Some of the desert remained, a perfect ring of it where the settlement had been teleported from one place to the next—and them with it.

  But it was the sheer expanse of the place that astounded him. The ground, undulating gently as far as the eye could see. No mountains. No landmarks. Just the purple sea of grass.

  Cade stared as the others caught up, a soft breeze that he had not felt in the desert cooling his sweat-damp skin. The raft of expletives from the others slowly petered out, as they surveyed the alien landscape for any sign of what would come next.

  “Codex,” Cade said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “What happens next?”

  No answer.

  “Can you even tell us if we’re going to get help?” Cade asked. “Is it just us, or are there other contenders here?”

  Finally, the Codex swiveled in the air, fixing its robotic lens on him.

  “You have your instructions. No more information regarding the game rules will be offered.”

  Cade stared at it. The damned thing was as cryptic as it had been the very first day he had encountered it.

  “Little git,” Amber growled, throwing a hand at it. The machine easily moved away, and almost mocked her as it hung out of reach in empty space.

  “Can you tell us who the others are?” Trix asked.

  But there was no response.

  “Ask it something else,” Bea prompted. “See what it will answer.”

  “Codex … tell us about Jomsborg,” Grace said. “Who lived here?”

  The machine zoomed closer.

  “The Jomsvikings were a secretive order of elite pagan mercenaries from the tenth century AD, fighting for the highest bidder. The brotherhood swore never to flee, even in the face of overwhelming odds. No women or children were allowed in their fortress.”

  Cade was relieved it was still willing to answer general questions.

  “Figures,” Amber grunted.

  “Talk about a sausage fest,” Scott said, earning himself another prod from Grace. He grinned.

  Cade took Amber’s hand and stared out over the landscape. She squeezed it, and that simple gesture was enough to calm him. This was a game. It was time to start playing.

  “Eight of us can’t succeed where a legion of others failed,” Cade said. “We can’t take a stronghold on our own. We don’t even know where it is. I say we find these ‘others’ first. If Abaddon has added them to the game, he expects us to use them.”

  “Right,” Yoshi said. “So how do we do that?”

  Cade scanned the horizon once more, walking slowly around the ring of the parapet. But there was nothing. Only the endless hillocks of purple grass.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “We might just have to pick a direction and walk as far as we can and still see Jomsborg. Don’t want to get lost out there.”

  Yoshi grunted in reluctant agreement.

  “What kind of world is this?” Bea muttered. “Purple grass? And hardly a tree or mountain in sig
ht?”

  “Purple doesn’t surprise me,” Trix said. “Didn’t you pay attention in biology?”

  “Go on, then,” Grace said. “Tell us.”

  “Chlorophyll is what makes plants green,” she said. “It absorbs blue and red light. But there’s another type … I forget its name … that absorbs green and yellow light. My teacher said all our plants might have been purple if evolution had gone a different way.”

  “Right. So … why no trees?” Cade asked.

  “The grass may have outcompeted everything else. Or maybe whatever dominant species we will face made them extinct. Impossible to say.”

  “Thanks for the science lesson,” Bea laughed. “Swot!”

  “You just wish you had my brains,” Trix said, winking.

  “So it’s basically grass, for all intents and purposes,” Cade said. “We can’t eat it. But I heard something out there this morning. Maybe we can hunt them.”

  “Can we even digest … like … aliens?” Scott asked.

  “We’ll find out, I guess,” Cade replied. “But whoever these ‘others’ are, they’ll probably be able to tell us.”

  “If they’re human,” Yoshi said. “And if they’ve been here longer than us. For all we know, Abaddon has dumped an army of Vikings out there this morning with no explanation.”

  “You’re probably right,” Amber groaned. “It’s not like this place was designed for eight people to defend. I think we’re supposed to bring them here.”

  Cade tightened his grip on the edge of the rampart, trying to focus. Abaddon did not do anything randomly. It was like a puzzle he wanted them to solve.

  “If these guys are on foot,” Cade said slowly. “We’re the largest landmark for miles. The chances of us coming across them while wandering the landscape is tiny—we might not even be able to see farther than a hundred yards with the grass. So we need to help them find us.”

  “Yeah?” Scott said. “And how are we going to do that?”

  Cade closed his eyes, concentrating.

  They couldn’t use sound. He doubted any noise they could make would travel far.