Into the Breach, Once More: A Hellfighter Novel

By Thomas Tipton

The Kingdom of Niv has turned its back on its soldiers, its brave sons and daughters that have always fought and bled to protect it. Yet, the Hellfighter Divisions continue to stand ready to defend the land from the mysteries of the Dread and the encroaching desolation of the Blight.

Though the evil of the Dread has been contained for the better part of a decade, a new enemy is poised to challenge the Hellfighters of the Tears of Flame Division. But these battle hardened warriors will never yield.

They are young men seeking purpose. They are old men with violent histories. They are Hellfighters and this is their story.

Time will not dim the glory of their deeds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 15, 2006
• ISBN: 9781467069526

Thomas Tipton

Tip was born in 1975 and lives in Texas with his incredible children. He teaches high school art, watches too much kung fu, and dreams in infrared. He is the notorious author of Into the Breach Once More, To Catch a Tiger by the Tail, Archangel, Shadows Wait to Play, Wolves' Blood Rising, Ashes in the Fall, and Shattered Skies in my Eyes.

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© 2007 Thomas Tipton. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 6/8/2007

ISBN: 978-1-4259-0156-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-6952-6 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Acknowledgments

Dedication

Prologue

Breaking Rhythm

Home Again, Home Again, Dancing a Jig

Swollen Knuckles, Broken Nose

Charmed, I’m Sure

A Game of You

About A Girl

Road of Shadows

Bishop’s Crossing

On The Hunt

Betrayal Most Foul

The Underground

Out of the Pan

Tribulation

Let Slip the Hound

Niv

The Permanence of Midnight

Epilogue

About The Author

Acknowledgments

Special thanks to God the Creator and Jesus, my savior. To my wife, Amy, I love you. Special thanks to Pops, my father, my hero. To my brother, Tim, who always had my back. To Brooklyn and Cadie, thank you for making me smile.

Dedication

For Pops,

who always wanted me to write a Western.

Well, I tried.

"Time will not dim the glory

of their deeds."

Prologue

I do not like the idea of you being so close to the enemy, Milady, Andros whispered, his angelic voice belying the fear in his heart. We have not suffered total defeat, simply because the Emperor has been unable to capture you. To come this close to his camp, to practically offer yourself up for capture, is madness.

She studied the Elf for a moment. His long black hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a strand of silk. A few loose strands whipped back and forth across his pale face as a warm breeze flowed through the trees. His sapphire blue eyes showed only concern and the resolve of his responsibilities.

I appreciate your concern, Andros, but we have been run ragged by the Emperor’s ninja. This is the first rest we’ve seen in days. I think your soldiers would appreciate a breather, she replied.

I admit that I would not think to seek an enemy on the run within arrow distance of my headquarters, but we risk too much. Our people only continue to resist because you are free, because you live. You are our hope, Andros whispered.

She shook her head. Our defeat, total or otherwise, seems of little interest to the Emperor as of late. See, he already prepares for his next conquest, She replied. She knew he still sent raiding parties into the trees in attempts to capture her and thus end any and all resistance, but it was merely an afterthought on the Emperor’s part. What little resistance remained was no longer a threat to his rule.

Across a large clearing, a clearing that was once a grove of trees tens of thousands of years old, the Daggra-the enemy-worked. Some trained with cruel weapons of steel and magic. Others cut the old trees, forming weapons of war. Still others scurried here and there going about whatever grisly preparations they had been assigned.

There are so many of them, she said. How can there be so many?

The question was rhetorical. Andros sensed this and said nothing. In his mind though, he likened the Daggra to a plague or a virus. Humans. The very word left a bitter taste of disgust and hatred in the Elf’s mouth. He remained silent for some time as the Humans prepared for what both he and the Lady he protected knew was an impending invasion of another land.

They will be gone soon, Andros said.

No, she replied. It will be as it was when they attacked us. The Emperor will send the Dirg along the Road of Shadows and let them pound their new enemy until they gain a foothold in the new land. Then the Emperor will send in his elite soldiers to finish off an enemy already spent, an enemy who has used up all of its best warriors thinking the Dirg their true opponent. Just as we fell to them, Andros. I could never have envisioned such a vast army coming against us.

The Road of Shadows? Andros asked. They are going to invade Niv? How do you know this?

I have eyes and ears everywhere, Andros, even in the most secure of the Emperor’s chambers, she answered.

Good, Andros exclaimed. Let the filth move from our lands. Let the animals wipe themselves out.

Not all Humans are vile creatures, Andros. Not all men are worthy of your hatred. Those men of Niv are noble and honorable fighters, She said.

I don’t know about their honor, Milady, Andros said, his voice suddenly bitter, and gruff. My father died in the war with their Hellfighters.

Our arrogance made us no better than the Emperor and his ilk for a time, child of the Dark Hair. She said.

Andros was silent for a few moments. His eyes were dark and thoughtful. Still, he said at last. Better they decide each other’s fate away from our lands. I say let the Emperor send his vile minions into the lands of Niv. Let the Hellfighters deal with the Dirg. I doubt they will be able to put up much resistance though. I have heard that their own government turned on them. I have heard they are no longer recognized by either the Nivean Army or the people they fight to protect.

She did not respond. Even had she any hope that the Emperor would simply leave her lands she would not agree with Andros. She would not simply let the Emperor and his people move from her lands. They had taken too much, and She would have some measure of revenge.

The conversation died as the two were approached by a third Elf. He was tall, broad shouldered, and his long blond hair fell from deep within his hood as he spoke. He wore a cloak woven of a material that shimmered and reflected the foliage around him. Had he not been moving, he would have been practically invisible.

They are upon us, he whispered.

The forest came alive as the fifty members of her Elven honor guard moved from their positions to whisk her away. She sighed.

Will this absurdity never end?

Andros had told her she was the hope for her people. That thought brought tears to her eyes. She could not tell him she had absolutely no hope at all.

Breaking Rhythm

Tameron slammed his sledgehammer against the unyielding boulder again, keeping rhythm with the three other boys working with him. They alternated so that as soon as one hammer hit and pulled away, another cracked into the stone, slowly chipping away at its mass. Tam thought it a useless waste of time and energy. They had the means to break up the boulder without hammers. What they did not have was permission to do so by their elders.

The boys had been working for several hours, none complaining about the hopelessness of the chore, none saying anything at all. They were disciplined and knew they were expected to have the boulder broken down by nightfall. The day was growing colder as the first of the winter storms closed in on them. Tameron knew the night would see the first frost of the year. It would not be the brutal freeze they would see before winter’s end, but he hoped to be finished with this job and back home enjoying a warm fire before the chill seeped into his bones. Winter was a short season here in the southlands, but when it came it was fierce, and Tam did not enjoy it one bit.

Someone broke the rhythm around midday when the sun was at its zenith. Tameron stopped swinging immediately, but Samual, lost in his work, hit the boulder a few more times before he realized the others had quit.

What’s this then? he asked, sweat dripping from his brow despite the growing chill. You slackers quitting already?

Lunch, you ox, Culver, one of the other boys, explained.

In that case, Samual replied, dropping his hammer with a grin. Jolly good idea, chap.

Tameron smiled. Samual had given his best imitation of the accents of the northerners, but had failed miserably.

Lunch for the four consisted of bread, cheese, and a few apples packed for them by Culver’s mother, Judith. The boys ate and talked about the various girls they hoped to dance with at next week’s Winter Festival. As they were finishing their meal, four riders approached from the west, their horses’ nostrils producing steam in the cool air. They were all older men with hard eyes. Tam thought these men could have been born on their horses, they sat atop them with such ease and confidence.

A group of boys from Dullum may have found occasion to make some off-color remark about these men, but neither Tameron nor any of the boys he was working with would dare show any disrespect for these elders. They were Hellfighters, more than enough reason to show the proper respect. More importantly, though, these men were the boys’ fathers.

Nicholos Bahka sat atop his short, powerful paint, his storm cloud grey eyes settling on the four boys. Samual shifted under his gaze. Tameron had to admit that he too sometimes found himself uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his father. Samual’s own father, Rutger, brought his mount alongside Nicholos’s.

What do you think, Hound? Rutger asked, his eyes alive with mischievous intent. Looks to me like these boys have been slackin’ off. That rock don’t look a bit smaller.

Nicholos did not say a word, but his smile was enough to let the boys know the men were not serious. The rock was smaller by half, after all. Samual found his voice once he realized they were not disappointed in their efforts.

You codgers think you could make quicker work of it? he said, his voice full of the playful humor with which the comment was meant.

Why do you think we had children in the first place, Samual? Sanchez, one of the Hellfighters, said. It’s so we wouldn’t have to do this sort of thing anymore.

Tam smiled as he and the other boys started back to work on the rock. The men dismounted and built a small fire. Then they sat, drank their bitter trail coffee, and exchanged smart remarks with the boys toiling with their hammers.

This feels like a Dullum city job, Sam, Tam remarked loud enough for his father and the others to hear him. All the bosses sitting around while their underlings do all the work.

I think those fellas down in Dullum have the right idea, Hound, Rutger said. This is living.

As the day progressed, so too did the playful banter between the boys and the Hellfighters. As the sun started its descent toward the horizon, another rider approached from the north. He rode alone, huddled against the wind at his back. The only parts of him visible were his hazel eyes as he rode into the small makeshift camp. Tameron dropped his hammer and took hold of his horse’s reigns while the young man dismounted and pulled the leather mask from his mouth and nose.

Orion Bahka was shorter than Tam by several inches, but he was more solidly built, with thick powerful legs and heavily muscled shoulders. Anyone who saw the two boys together wondered at the total contrast between them. Despite similar features and coloring, the Bahka boys were nearly opposites. One was sturdy and stocky. The other was long and lanky.

Hey, little brother, Orion said. His voice was cracked and hoarse.

Tameron hadn’t seen Orion in over a week. Quintan, commander and ranking Hellfighter of the Tears of Flame division, had sent him to ride the fence lines at the north end of the lands the Hellfighters owned. Tam knew that the winter storm descending upon them had already hit that far north. Orion had probably been riding through it for a few days.

Good to see you, Rhino. Tam said as the two shook hands.

How’s the line look up north, son? Nicholos asked.

Had a couple of spots that looked like they had been cut, Orion answered. And we’re missing around thirty head.

Nicholos’s eyes grew hard. Rutger cursed. Everyone else fell silent.

You know this? Nicholos asked.

Tam knew exactly where this conversation was headed. He felt his stomach tighten in anticipation. He knew his father. He knew his brother too.

Apparently Orion knew where it was leading as well. Tam could see the muscles of his jaw popping as he realized their father had him in a trap. Most people would have just assumed Orion had estimated the number of cattle stolen from the herd. Nicholos knew his elder son too well. Tam also knew Orion would have not let the exact number go unchecked. Now he would either lie or tell the truth. Either way, he was in trouble with Nicholos.

Yes, I know, Orion answered.

Did you enter Hinderman’s lands, Orion? Nicholos asked, his face an expressionless mask.

Aye, father, I did.

Nicholos said nothing, but Tam could see the big vein in his forehead start throbbing with his barely contained anger. Rutger smiled. Tam knew the man shared Orion’s militancy. Hell, Tam thought, they’re two peas in a pod. Three, counting Samual.

Should we be expecting trouble, Rhino? Rutger asked.

Tam hoped Orion would keep his mouth shut. He was in trouble. Anything he said would only further upset their father.

Rutger seemed to sense the sudden tension between Nicholos and Orion and refrained from making any more jokes. Rutger was the boys’ uncle in all but name, but Nicholos was angry, and despite the Hound’s normally pensive demeanor, Rutger knew his place was not in the middle of this discussion.

What did you do, son? Nicholos asked.

I crossed into Hinderman’s lands three days ago, following five of his men. I tracked them to their camp, where I saw some of his ranch hands and wranglers covering our brand with their own, Orion answered.

And? Nicholos asked. Orion would not lie, but he might not tell the whole truth.

And I watched them for a day, trying to find a way to infiltrate the camp. When night fell, I snuck in and set our cattle free. I tried to herd them back to our lands, Orion admitted.

Ha! Rutger exclaimed with enough enthusiasm to startle the horses.

Did you get them back, Rhino? Samual asked.

Tameron shook his head. Samual was three years younger than Orion and he practically worshipped the older boy. Tam did not understand why. He figured given enough time with his brother, anyone who admired him would be cured of any hero worship. Rhino was not just some cute moniker given to him as a small child. Orion had earned it time and again with displays of both his explosive temper and his epic stubbornness.

Orion did not smile.

I could not herd them back onto our lands, he replied. He did not like to fail at anything.

Why not? Nicholos asked.

It was beyond my skill, and Hinderman’s men were shooting at me.

Tameron grinned. Only his brother would be foolish enough to invade unfriendly territory single-handedly. Samual’s eyes widened. Tam could feel the admiration spilling from his friend. Rutger grunted, but he was smiling also. Nicholos was not.

They shot at you? Nicholos asked.

A few times, Father, but I don’t think they were trying to hurt me, Rhino answered. I think they were trying to scare me.

And did you return fire? Nicholos continued.

No sir, Orion answered.

Why didn’t you fight back? Samual asked.

Because despite all appearances, he’s not stupid, Sam, Tameron cracked.

Orion’s eyes narrowed as he met his younger brother’s smile.

I didn’t shoot back, Samual, because I had entered their lands without permission and would have been wrong in the eyes of the law had anyone been wounded, Orion answered, turning away from Tam. Thirty head of cattle were not worth prison to me.

There it was, Tameron thought. No mention of the men pursuing him. Orion’s concern was that he would have gone to jail over thirty head of cattle. Tameron knew he would have approached it differently. He would not have bulled his way through the problem. Instead, he would have smuggled a few cattle out of Hinderman’s lands as proof for his father and the other Hellfighters, and hoped they would come in force. Tameron had always been brains to Orion’s brawn.

Nicholos looked his older son in the eye. Orion maintained the gaze for a brief instant, then looked away. After a few moments, Nicholos climbed into the saddle and kicked his horse into motion.

You boys gather your things and head back to the Presidio. Orion has just volunteered to finish your work on the boulder, he ordered.

Orion did not even look at the group as they pulled out. Samual and Tam both lagged behind a few moments. They gave Orion the remainder of their food stores. Orion would be here all night.

Tough break, Rhino, Sam said.

Orion merely grunted as he took Tameron’s hammer and chisels.

Not your smartest move, brother o’ mine, Tam said as he turned and walked away. Samual turned and followed. He jogged to catch up.

Why do you say things like that to him, Tam? Samual asked. You know how angry he gets.

Tameron laughed.

Two reasons, Sam, he replied. First, it’s easy. Second, he’ll be so angry with me that the rock will be dust by morning.

Nicholos Bahka was not so much angry with Orion as he was disappointed in his decision to go into Hinderman’s lands alone. Orion had the tendency to think himself invincible and that made the Hound fear for him. It never really occurred to Orion that he could have possibly bitten off more than he could chew. Nicholos had been pleased with Orion’s decision not to engage the men shooting at him, though. He wondered if his own pride would have allowed him to ride away from a fight at that age.

Behind him, Tam and Samual were arguing about some trivial matter, Tam’s sarcasm and razor sharp wit winning the day. Samual was much like Orion and Rutger. They were tough, strong-willed men, but ill suited for wars of words. They were tenacious fighters, but debates and arguments were not their strengths. They simply lost their tempers too easily.

Tameron, on the other hand, was well versed in what the younger lads called trash talking. The boy could rip someone to shreds with his tongue and do it