Soul's Reckoning bw-3 Page 8

  As Turen scuttled off, Tyrellan cast Losara a quizzical look. Meanwhile Lalenda moved towards him, others parting way for her. What had he made her? he wondered. His queen?

  ‘What has happened?’ she said eagerly.

  ‘You two,’ he said, ‘I wish to speak with you. In private.’ He waved his hands, and from the grass issued up shadows, to enclose them in darkness. Only a few small cracks above let in a little light.

  ‘What is it, lord?’ said Tyrellan.

  ‘Bel stands in our way.’

  ‘Then why not freeze his heart where it beats and be done with him?’

  ‘Because if Bel dies …then I die also.’

  Tyrellan took the news in stunned silence, while Lalenda frowned her displeasure at once again being reminded of this obstacle in their path. Losara knew she was still hoping desperately for the upper hand, even more so since her recent prophecy. He felt a twinge of annoyance that fate had even brought it to her. What possible purpose did it serve?

  ‘We are part of the same soul,’ he went on. ‘That is why I cannot let the shadowmander run free while Bel is near – I cannot risk that it will take him. And while he possesses the Stone of Evenings Mild, I myself am powerless against him.’ He sighed. ‘He stands in our way.’

  ‘So,’ said Tyrellan thoughtfully, ‘this is why you wished to be so hasty? To sweep across the land before Bel could get involved?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We could never have achieved that. With an army of this size, one does not dodge.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Losara, ‘but I wanted to get a head start, at least …put the shadowmander to good use before it became too problematic.’

  Good use? he thought, remembering the scattered bodies at the Mines.

  A sliver of light coming in through a crack travelled slowly over Tyrellan’s black-orb eyes. ‘There are uses for it still,’ he said.

  Losara was surprised by the harshness of his tone. Should I be? he thought. Had it been insensitive to openly doubt the strange construction they had tethered to Tyrellan forever? The First Slave had lost much freedom in its creation, at Losara’s request, yet here Losara was saying he lacked conviction of its worth.

  ‘Of course,’ he said.

  Lalenda blinked, her anger focusing, and looked at him determinedly. What thought had steeled her?

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Plenty of uses. Why don’t you circle Bel in the dead of night? We know how fast you can go, and Jeddies is not well defended,’ she glanced at Tyrellan, who gave a brief nod, ‘so you would not have to take anyone else with you. Just you, Tyrellan and the mander – set down on the outskirts of Jeddies and watch it fall. By the time Bel realised what was happening, it would be too late.’

  Losara wasn’t sure if he admired her zeal or not. He knew he could do with some more of it himself, but it was disturbing to see his once-timid lady so bent upon carnage.

  ‘The idea has merit,’ said Tyrellan approvingly.

  Losara felt internal resistance, and tried to work out why.

  ‘It’s just one town,’ he said. ‘We cannot take all of Kainordas that way.’

  ‘Another loss will dispirit the enemy.’

  Losara pictured the mander running amok once more, knocking down homes and ripping out whoever it found inside – not soldiers this time, but a town population. Old people, young children – it would not matter to the creature. The thought sickened him. But he could not tell them that.

  I believe in what I‘m doing , he told himself instead. If I don’t, it will be done to us, and that I do not believe in.

  ‘And if Bel rides after?’ he said. ‘He has a mage, and could be in Jeddies quickly if I struck there. He would force us to retreat, and if we weren’t fast enough, the mander might even find him first.’

  They fell silent, seeming to run out of arguments, though Losara knew he was frustrating them.

  ‘The soldiers,’ said Tyrellan eventually, ‘will wonder why we do not attack our greatest nemesis while we have the chance, as he stands before us with only a single mage to guard him. The talking will have begun already.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Losara. ‘I am aware of that.’

  ‘Ho ho!’ came the voice of Grimra, booming in the enclosed space. ‘What be this? A party and Grimra not invited?’

  ‘How did you get in here?’ said Losara. He had sealed the shadows so that none could pass without permission, even invisible ghosts.

  ‘Through them little cracks,’ said Grimra. ‘Grimra can squeeze tiny when he needs. But not for chatting is he coming, rather for the bringing of news. The Kainordans, they be getting very close!’

  Losara gave a wave and dispelled the surrounding shadows. All around, the eyes of his soldiers were trained northeast. Roma appeared by his side and really, Losara thought, he should have included his Magus Supreme in the conversation he’d just had. He would fill Roma in quickly, he decided, as soon as he had a chance.

  ‘Master,’ said Roma. ‘The enemy is arriving.’

  ‘I ordered this place here to mark our front line,’ said Losara, gesturing at his feet. Bel had chosen the distance for him, by setting up where he had. Losara wanted Tyrellan to be at the head of the army, not imprisoned in the middle, and thus the rest had to be moved back.

  ‘It takes time to move so many, lord,’ said Roma. He spun and shouted, ‘Hurry up, you louts! Stop ogling our new neighbours and fall back!’

  Soldiers began to bustle and mill.

  ‘I am going to have a look,’ Losara told Tyrellan and Lalenda. ‘Stay here for now – this will become the front soon enough.’

  He dissolved and sped through the grass beneath tramping feet. Re-forming at what was left of the original front, he stared out across the field.

  Soldiers on horseback were riding towards Bel, led by a large man with short grey hair. Behind them came the rest of the Kainordans, a sea of glimmering blades and armour. Zyvanix wasps whirred through the air in golden swarms, and further back Ryoshi Saurians steered enormous scorpions, while groups of the snake-like Syanti slithered. Their ranks stretched for a long way, and Losara knew he was looking at an army larger than his own. Once they stood collected together, he imagined it would boggle his mind. And to wish them all dead …

  Lalenda landed next to him.

  ‘I don’t want to have to give you orders,’ he said wryly, ‘but it would be nice if you respected my wishes once in a while.’

  She said nothing, but stared out at the enemy as if hate alone could slay them. The grey-haired man was speaking to Bel, who was gesturing to indicate a line on the ground.

  ‘Looks as if he’s working out his front line too,’ she said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Losara. ‘While he stays there, neither of us can move against the other for the same reason – the mander lies between.’

  ‘So,’ said Lalenda, ‘the two greatest armies the world has ever seen will not fight each other?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Losara.

  •

  For the rest of the day Kainordans arrived, spreading out and back from a front that mirrored the shadow’s own. Tyrellan watched, incensed that the enemy was able to set itself up so leisurely. This secret of Losara’s was an immense tactical hindrance. At least he now stood at the head of their own troops, no longer trapped in the belly of the army by the necessity of maintaining the mander’s distance from Bel. As for the mander itself, it patrolled the land between, relentlessly trying to find a way through its barrier. A stalemate again, akin to the stalemate that had existed for millennia. The two enemies so close to each other, yet neither daring to cross the threshold.

  Tyrellan tried to think like his old self, without everything constantly coming back to the mander. It invaded his thoughts, constricting him just as he constricted it, influencing his decisions. The recent conversation with Losara had disturbed him – now it seemed the creature was not even necessarily an advantage in the present circumstances. Focus , he told himself. He was still second-in-comma
nd, and there was more to this war than worrying about a glorified lizard. Perhaps the catapults could be positioned to reach the Kainordans, especially if given a magical boost – but those were still catching up, and besides, the army was running low on rocks, not the easiest things to haul about. On the dusty plains around the Mines there had been plenty available, but here they were not so bountiful. He glanced at the river – a useful thing, for the bulk of the Vorthargs had set up next to it, but perhaps it would also be a good source of ammunition?

  ‘My lord,’ he said, approaching Losara, ‘we do not have to rely on the mander to harass them.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Assign some teams to dredge rocks from the river,’ said Tyrellan. ‘We should be able to stockpile a good supply before the catapults arrive.’

  ‘A worthwhile idea,’ said Losara. ‘Roma, can you organise some mages for that?’

  ‘As you wish.’

  ‘In the meantime,’ said Tyrellan, ‘although the enemy cannot advance its archers, there is no reason we cannot advance our own behind the protection of the mander.’

  ‘The distance between mander and enemy is still too far for arrows,’ said Roma. ‘But with mages as well …there are spells that could lend arrows extra distance.’

  ‘Are there indeed?’ said Tyrellan mildly, as if he hadn’t thought of such a thing. He glanced at Losara, who was staring off into space. It was a familiar look – the dreamer was lost in thought, perhaps mulling over the suggested course.

  ‘Anything that depletes their numbers is worth considering,’ urged Tyrellan.

  Losara blinked. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Make the preparations. We shall take aim at the left and right flanks, away from the blue-haired man.’ He glanced at Roma, who nodded in understanding. It was well, Tyrellan supposed, that the Magus Supreme had been made privy to Losara’s reasons for that, not long after the secret had been shared with Tyrellan himself.

  ‘I shall prepare the mages,’ said Roma.

  Tyrellan glanced around for Turen. The commander had become something like Tyrellan’s right hand, for he could move about freely while Tyrellan could not …but he was of no use if he could not be seen.

  ‘Shall I also pass word to Turen to organise the archers?’ said Roma, raising an eyebrow at Tyrellan.

  ‘Yes,’ growled Tyrellan from between clenched fangs.

  •

  Fazel walked with the shadow mages, just another black robe in the mass. It was strange being part of an organised group, so used was he to being out on his own. The mages, led by Roma, followed some two hundred archers, and carriers bringing more arrows – rather optimistic, in Fazel’s opinion. In fact, this whole plan seemed ridiculous.

  As they tramped out onto the field, leaving the bulk of the army behind, ripples of activity in the camp opposite showed that the Kainordans had noted the approach. The afternoon sun bore down on Fazel’s charred skull, heating up his bones. He felt a scowl form in his mind, yet had not the flesh to give it life. Perhaps, he hoped, this would all go horribly wrong somehow.

  Stay together, came Roma’s instruction.

  As they neared the mander, still worrying at its barrier, the archers began to spread out.

  Move to individuals , sent Roma. The mages obeyed, one for each archer, until they stood in two parallel lines. Fazel found himself behind a tall, nervous-looking Arabodedas. Whether the sweat on his brow was from heat or fear was hard to tell – until Fazel took a glimpse inside the man’s mind and found him to be deeply scared. The man checked on who was with him, and started with fright when he found Fazel grinning back.

  ‘You …you’re …’ he stammered.

  ‘Yesss,’ hissed Fazel. ‘ I’m. Don’t be afraid, comrade, we’re safe behind the mander. Unless of course the enemy stumbles across the exact same idea we’ve had and starts shooting back …but I don’t know how they would ever manage that!’

  The man nodded shakily, but Fazel didn’t think he had really heard the words.

  Ready , said Roma.

  Along the line, archers notched arrows to bows. A number of the Vorthargs had larger bows, for they were able to draw the string back further with their strong, ropey limbs. Across the way Bel was standing out in front of his troops, hands on hips, looking almost comically indignant. Around him were packs and the remnants of a fire, and a canvas on poles beneath which bedrolls lay. He looked like a man rudely awoken by the two armies daring to face off across his campsite. As full of himself as ever, Fazel thought. There was also a slight, bald-headed mage with him, who looked decidedly less comfortable, and a well-marked plains horse.

  How he had loved riding in his day, Fazel remembered – when he had torn about Kainordas on whatever enterprise he chose, ignoring repeated requests from the Open Halls that he return and become High Mage. Those days shone like a light at the end of the tunnel – except the tunnel was behind him, and ahead was only the dark.

  Mages , said Roma.

  Fazel lifted a finger and directed a little spell into his archer’s arrow, to speed it on its journey.

  Remember , warned Roma, do not aim for the blue-haired man.

  Fazel felt a wave of confusion move amongst the others. The poor fools did not know why they were being ordered to avoid Bel, for Losara had not told them. He would have to soon enough, however, or else think up some very convincing lie.

  Focus! sent Roma, evidently having sensed the faltering as well. Take aim.

  Archers tensed.

  Fire.

  Arrows whizzed into the air, shooting higher than they naturally would. Among the Kainordans, wards began to spring up, lightfists spacing themselves out evenly to protect the regular troops. As arrows hurtled down upon the left and right flanks, scores of them bounced off glowing barriers. Some fell on the front lines, others further back, yet Fazel did not hear a single scream. That was the thing about arrows – any mage worth his salt could turn them away, when that was all he had to concentrate on.

  A shame we can’t cast spells from this distance , he sent Losara, who was watching from the army.

  He received no answer.

  Again , said Roma. At will.

  Another wave of arrows rose, heading left and right. This time Fazel did hear a couple of cries.

  Four hundred arrows , he sent Losara, and two deaths. Hardly seems worth the cost. If indeed anyone actually died.

  Arrows continued to travel impossibly distant arcs as archers and mages fell into synergy. For Fazel the effort was nothing, and he could freely watch the other side without really paying attention to his Arabodedas. He saw Bel turn, shout something, and bows began to appear with accompanying lightfists – hundreds and hundreds of pairs.

  Expect return fire , said Roma.

  ‘Now where would they have got that idea?’ muttered Fazel, loud enough for his archer’s benefit.

  Every little rebellion , he thought. Any little way to undermine. Can’t help yourself.

  The light’s arrows began to fly towards them, glittering in the sky almost prettily.

  Defend.

  Fazel waved up a ward and arrows began to hammer it, the dull sound of hail on a wooden roof. Nearby a Vortharg stumbled backwards, a shaft sticking from his chest. Unlucky for him, indeed, to have been assigned such a pathetic mage. Meanwhile, other mages were growing too distracted by defending to cast spells on the outgoing arrows. Shafts began to land haphazardly, more and more falling short of the Kainordans entirely.

  As for Fazel, he had no problem maintaining both attack and defence simultaneously. He watched as Bel and his mage clambered up onto the horse, then raced quickly to the left flank. There they arrived and swung about in the face of approaching arrows, Bel taking out his sword and swishing it defiantly even as shafts sank into the ground around him.

  Cease firing on the left , sent Roma. Everyone on the right.

  The left stream of arrows shifted to strengthen that on the right, and there were more cries from the enemy. Wi
th their lightfists doing two things at once, just as the shadow mages were, the Kainordans’ defence was beginning to be penetrated.

  Now Bel raced across the field towards the right flank, the little mage clutching him tightly. It was not a short distance, yet he covered it quickly.

  A talented mage and a talented steed , thought Fazel.

  Cease firing on the right , sent Roma angrily, as Bel reached it in time to stand among the last falling arrows. The shadow mages were now facing more oncoming arrows than they could give out, and holes were appearing everywhere in the lines.

  Fazel sensed communication between Losara and Roma.

  A moment later …Fall back , said Roma. Everyone fall back.

  Fazel felt the command take precedence, and instantly dropped his defence. A moment later there was a sound like a wet slap, and his archer twisted about with a shaft protruding from his cheek.

  You realise , Fazel sent Losara as he moved away, that you’re going to have to give them some reason for why they cannot kill Bel.

  An arrow smashed against the back of his skull, and he brushed away the splinters.

  Siege

  Jaya made her way through the camp alone, having finally slipped away from the overzealous protectors assigned to her by Brahl.

  ‘The blue-haired man will not thank me if I lose his lady,’ Brahl had told her. ‘You will be reunited soon enough – let us just work out the lie of the land here first.’

  That had been several hours ago, before Brahl himself had ridden off to speak with Bel, leaving her with a troop of blades and lightfists towards the back of the immense gathering. Since then she had seen clouds of arrows rising in the sky, and heard the cries as soldiers fell. From the confused gossip floating about, apparently Bel stood at the front, somehow holding the enemy back from full-scale attack. There was also word that the shadowmander patrolled the area between the two armies, but did not venture close enough to do any harm. Knowing more than the average soldier, Jaya was able to make a guess or two why, but that did not stop her being determined to find out what the blazes was going on from the source itself, then kiss him.