Ark(28)
Kichu grinned, a lopsided, feral snarl. “Let’s send them to Erishkigal, shall we?”
Japheth felt a rush of relief at Kichu’s presence; he had no love for any Nephilim, but Kichu was as close to a friend among them as he had. He’d fought against Larsa next to Kichu, and they had saved each other’s lives several times. Japheth nodded at Kichu, swung his sappara in a circle, and tightened his grip on his shield.
Kichu and Japheth stood side by side, a few meters between them. Kichu held an axe in each hand, swinging both at the same time in a scissor cut, one high, the other low, striking so fast Kichu’s opponent couldn’t track both strikes and took an axeblade to thigh. A single backward step accompanied a third swing, and the Uruk warrior was beheaded. Kichu swiveled sideways to dodge a spear thrust, hacked an axe down at the shaft, splintering it, and swung his other axe in a backhand blow.
Japheth’s attention was torn away from Kichu’s deadly dance as he warded off blows from two opponents. He dodged and blocked with shield and sword, waiting for an opening and trying to split the pair of warriors. These two were seasoned warriors, however, and refused to be parted. Blow after blow rained down on Japheth’s shield, and his left arm was beginning to ache; he had to go on the offensive, or his shield arm would give out and he’d be defenseless. He heard Kichu grunting as he hammered with his twin axes, telling him he couldn’t expect any help from his Nephilim companion any time soon.
Japheth saw a second sappara lying on the ground near his feet and made a snap decision. He bull-rushed the pair, swinging like a madman, causing them to back up under the sudden and unexpected onslaught. Japheth used the momentary reprieve to drop his shield and scoop up the sappara. With two blades in his hands, Japheth felt more confident. He feinted left, drawing one of the Nephilim forward. Now they were split, and Japheth darted between them, hacking with the bladed outside edge at one Nephilim and hooking the heel of the second with the dull inside edge of his other weapon.
They both staggered and turned around to face him, but Japheth was already swinging, laying open a bare belly; Nephilim scorned any kind of armor, preferring to live or die by their martial skill. The other warrior, the largest one, charged Japheth, and he was forced to backpedal yet again, abandoning his attack.
The remaining Nephilim warrior was armed with a single axe nearly as long as Japheth was tall, and the enormous warrior was swinging it one-handed, as if it were a child’s toy. Japheth had no intention of trying to block a blow from the weapon; if he tried, it would plow through his sword and cleave him in half without slowing—his only hope was speed.
Unfortunately, the Nephilim warrior, though nearly ten feet tall and built like an aurochs, was not the powerful-but-slow kind. He was quick and agile, and nearly lopped Japheth’s head off before he had chance to so much as take a breath. He threw himself backward into the dirt, landing with such force that the wind was knocked out of him. Seeing stars and gasping for breath, Japheth rolled to the side to avoid the blade as it crashed into the earth next to him. Still trying to catch his wind, Japheth swept one sappara at the giant warrior’s heel and yanked with all his might. He barely moved the hulk’s leg. Laughter boomed out from above him, and Japheth saw the axe descending, as inevitable as sunset.
Kichu’s smaller battleaxe intercepted the larger weapon, inches from Japheth’s skull. He rolled away immediately, more than willing to let Kichu handle the behemoth. As he found his feet, however, Japheth noted that Kichu’s left arm was curled against his side, bleeding from a gash along the bicep, so deep that bone showed white between ragged flesh-ends. The other warrior was unwounded and barely sweating, though the blade of his axe was coated in blood and his torso was spattered with it.
Around him, the battle was already fading as Emmen-Utu’s and Sin-Iddim’s combined forces began to overrun the warriors left behind to defend Uruk. Japheth glanced around to see that Kichu’s battle was being watched by most of the surviving warriors. Japheth wanted to rush in and help Kichu, who was at a disadvantage in the battle, wounded and weak from blood loss, but he dare not—Kichu’s honor as a warrior and prince depended on the outcome of this fight.
Kichu was fighting smart, ducking and weaving, avoiding rather than blocking, saving his strikes for a moment when he knew he could draw blood. He took a glancing blow to the thigh that staggered him, and the monster from Uruk grinned savagely, pressing his advantage. He bulled into Kichu and knocked the smaller warrior flying. Kichu rolled, dropping his remaining axe in the process. With a roar of triumph, the warrior stomped through the intervening space, axe descending for the killing blow.
Japheth didn’t stop to consider his next action—honor be damned. Kichu had saved his life, now it was time to return the favor. Three running steps and a leap took Japheth airborne, a single sappara singing through the still air, the other dropped to focus his energy on making one blow count. The warrior never saw him coming.
His head dropped to the dirt, eyes still blinking for a few heartbeats. Japheth landed, twisting his ankle painfully. He felt the tendon snap and tumbled to the earth next to the gore-seeping head.
There was a brief, fraught silence, then a deafening roar from the armies circled to watch. Kichu was still tensed for the blow that never came. When he realized it wasn’t coming, he scrambled to his feet, saw the headless body bleeding into the hot sand, saw Japheth gripping his ankle, crimson-stained sappara still gripped in his exhausted hand.