The Last Praetorian Read Online Free PDF Page B

unnoticed during the monster’s charge, men and dwarves rose from behind makeshift barriers. The centurions shouted. Two volleys of pilum and javelins tore into enemy ranks from either side. Elven archers filled the square with thousands of shafts. Entire battalions of sable-clad soldiery fell under the volleys. The rest of the Destructor’s soldiers looked to their exposed flanks and cowered as stonehearted centurions ordered their hard-bitten legionaries forward. With them came battalions of dwarves, axes ground to deathly edges, eager for slaughter.
    The black horde reeled as the flanking forces cut huge gaps in the sea of monsters. Yet despite the damage done, Tarion didn’t want his infantry to wear themselves out in a pitched hand-to-hand fight. The day would be long and his troops needed to pace themselves. He waited until the goblins panic turned to fatal resolve and he gave the signal to his adjutant. Three blasts rolled over the city. The axe bearers took refuge behind the legionary shields. At a quick but orderly trot, the legionaries pulled back, leaving the Destructor’s flanks bloodied and exposed. The goblins laughed at the retreat and broke ranks, leaping after the defenders.
    Tarion saw what he wanted. “Sound the charge!”
    One long blast of the horn echoed through the streets.
    A chorus of horns answered Tarion’s call, followed by the thunder of hooves on pavement. The sound grew until it was a force all of its own. The legionary ranks parted and through the shield walls burst the legionary cavalry, horsetail plumes flying, shields shining and iron shod hooves casting sparks from the pavement.
    The goblin laughter turned to wailing panic. They scrambled over each other to escape, but it was too late. The imperial knights were upon them. With a great shout, a forest of steel tipped lances lowered as one and the knights crashed into the boiling mass of monsters. The charge cut into either side of the enemy, creating swaths of wriggling dead, clearing whole sections of the square. The knights charged all the way through the host, cutting avenues of bloody slaughter in half-a-dozen places, but then they rode on into the side streets opposite the way they came, leaving thousands dead.
    The Destructor’s host broke and ran, seeking the quickest way back to the gate and out of the terrible city. They dropped their weapons, their shields, their helmets and gear. They dropped to their knees and pleaded for mercy. It was to no avail. They who would have taken no quarter had none offered them.
    The Achaean shield wall advanced, their spears plunging into hairy backs. The legionaries and the dwarves closed in on either side like a vice. In a matter of moments, there was no enemy soldier left alive within the confines of the square, nothing but a wriggling, twitching, smoldering pile of reeking flesh languishing in a growing lake of slippery, sticking gore. The stench of death was the only thing that rose from that mangled heap of ruin.
    Johaan wasn’t so easily finished though. In answer to the disaster within the walls, a score of dragons flew out of the dark clouds, flames brimming on their lips. Sorcerers and demons, gahnogs of Und armed with cursed tridents, bloodthirsty bats the size of a man and other hideous creatures of the air flew to their comrade’s succor. The Praetorian was ready for them.
    Scores of ballista and scorpions hidden atop buildings greeted them. Enormous projectiles pierced the dragon’s hides. Hand crafted barbs caught in their scales and doughty legionaries and benevolent giants hauled on cables, drawing the dragons down to their ruin under the hacking blades of the defenders. Arrows rose up into the dark skies with a howl, their silver edged blades slicing through demon-hide and flesh alike. The sky rained blood and monsters. 
    A great shout went up. Within the gates and the avenue, half the Destructor’s host lay in a heap taller than a man’s head. Bodies choked the tunnel