by Jim Hodgson
Well, at least it would be crushed while doing everything it could. That reminded Usta of something.
Usta walked back to the palace with the detail of guards Alabora forced on him by his side. They scanned rooftops, blocked alleyways, and generally did their best to make the King of Dilara look like a bit of a prick while walking in his capital city. But Alabora and Nazenin did have a point. He and Elgin had nearly been killed. It was only sheer luck that Elgin would live.
Except they’d all be dead soon enough, wouldn’t they? First though, there was something Usta wanted.
He found his wife-to-be walking up the stairs. She was still using her stick to get around, but she traversed the stairs every afternoon now to build her strength. She swore it was working. Usta had to admit she was the best recovery from being shot through the heart with an arrow he’d ever seen.
“Take a break with me,” he said, as she was huffing unsteadily up the stairs.
“Can’t,” she said. “I’m only half done. Do you want me to spend the rest of our lives walking at a quarter-speed?” She walked on up the winding staircase, so he ran past her to the top.
When she got there, he was on one knee.
She gave him an irritated look.
“Marry me,” he said.
“I already said I would, you daft king,” she said. She waved her walking stick in the air. “Now move away so I can finish my work.”
“No,” he said. “I mean marry me now. I want to be married to you.”
She frowned at him. “Ah, so. The meeting with Yonca and Wagast has gone poorly.” She bit her lip. “Hmm. Are you asking me to marry you because you believe that we are going to die and it won’t matter anyway, in the end?”
“I believe answering that question will cast a pall over the otherwise joyous prospect of our union,” Usta said.
Elgin reached out with her cane and jabbed him in the foot. “Don’t you be vague with me, Alper Usta, or you can marry your own self.”
“Ow,” he said. He’d have complained more, but Elgin’s face was clouded over. “Isn’t it enough to say that I love you and I want you to be my wife? Regardless of the outcome, we go to war. It’s hardly a safe proposition, I think you’ll agree.”
Elgin raised the stick to poke him again.
“All right,” he said. “All right. Yes, if you must know. Yonca lost her spiders. She thinks the Yetkin mages have some way of detecting them. We won’t know where they will attack or when. All we know is the size of their forces which, according to your father, are larger than the entire population of our country. Apparently we are one of the smallest countries there is, which is news to me. I thought we and Ilbez were the only countries. Shows what I know.”
“The Yetkin have powerful mages now. And the beasts are faster than they ever were.”
Usta nodded. “Yes. So you see? We may not have a chance to be wed, if we don’t do it now.”
Elgin frowned again. She climbed the remaining stairs, then reached out and hugged Usta’s head to her breast. She petted his hair with her hand and kissed the top of his head. She took a half-step back so that she could look down into his eyes.
“My dear Alper,” she said. “I would marry you in this life or a hundred after it. But we can’t do this. If we have a hasty wedding with enemies on our doorstep, it will look to our people like we are expecting the worst. We cannot.”
“But we could have a small, private ceremony—” He stopped, because Elgin was shaking her head.
“We are leaders,” she said. “We must hold ourselves to a higher standard. We sacrifice so that our people can have faith. And what’s more, I know that you know what I am saying is true, and right.” She hugged his head again and he inhaled her smell. She smelled like light perfume, her clean dress, and a little sweat. He could have stayed in this moment forever and been happy to do so. But she was right. They had to be strong. They had to hold themselves to a higher standard. And, if necessary, he had to go out onto the field of battle and die unmarried.
When he looked up again, he felt a tear leak out of his eye. Elgin was crying too.
“Well, if you won’t marry me in secret,” Usta said. “Will you at least watch over my city while I’m away?”
Elgin laughed, which made more tears run down onto her cheeks. She nodded. “Will you watch over my people?”
“I will,” Usta said. And I hope they’ll watch over me, he thought.
Chapter 35
When the Gerent returned to the Sakir Tunnel, his physical strength had improved significantly, but he looked haggard to Usta. The population of Ilbez was making their way through the passage, though, which meant they’d be safe, or as safe as anyone facing annihilation could be. Usta greeted the Gerent deep inside the mountain and congratulated him on mobilizing Ilbez.
“I didn’t,” The Gerent said.
Usta raised an eyebrow.
“They wouldn’t listen to me. Said they’d rather die in Ilbez than leave.”
“So how did you get them to change their minds and come through?”
“I didn’t. The Yetkin horde did. Scouts on the edge of Ilbez have seen them. They’re coming.”
“How many?”
“As many as we have, and more. But there’s something else. The scouts say they think their leader — Lord Yordam, they call him — is coming to oversee the attack personally. Powerful wizard. Deadly in the extreme.”
“Naturally,” Usta said.
The Gerent shrugged.
Usta frowned sourly. “Well, I suppose we should take it as a compliment he’s coming personally.”
“Or perhaps he doesn’t trust his armies?”
“Possible. If you want something done right, eh?”
Ozel found Alabora consulting with a few of his lieutenants and he stood around a while waiting for him. There were a lot of orders to give, but in a few minutes, Alabora smiled and beckoned at Ozel.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of a wizardly visit?” he asked. His tone was gruff but Ozel knew him well enough to know when he was being friendly.
Ozel looked around to make sure the lieutenants were gone.
Alabora spotted the gesture. “Uh oh, looks serious already.”
Ozel smirked. “I need some advice.”
“Stick them with the pointy end,” Alabora said. “Oh. I suppose that’s not the advice you were asking about.”
“No, I was wondering about what it’s like, er, going off to war.”
Alabora looked taken aback. “You’ve been in a few scrapes in your time, as I recall. You know how these things go.”
“Yes, but never as part of a great heaping war campaign.” Ozel paused, even though he hadn’t wanted to. “And never when I had a, sort of, romantic concern … that is, you know, Aysu was usually fighting alongside me.”
“Oh,” Alabora said. “Yes, I see. It is fortuitous, in some ways, being involved with someone who fights alongside you.” His eyes went skyward as he considered the question. “But Aysu will be coming along with the war party, and you will be heading up the magical defense of the beach.”
“Yes,” Ozel said.
Alabora drew in a breath. “Well, normally you could expect to enjoy an evening of wild abandon together before you go off to fight. But in this case, you’re both going to be fighting …” He thought about it. “I supposed you’ll have to be doubly without abandon?”
Ozel gave him a look.
“All right, I’m not giving very good advice, am I?”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’ll have to forgive me. The transition from sergeant to general has not been without its challenges for me. I am used to being able to be as coarse and loud as I like.”
“And now?”
Alabora looked wry. “Truthfully, I still am. But now I feel a bit bad about it.” He sighed. “If I’m being flippant, it’s because I don’t really know the answer. Not really, other than to let the person know you care about them and you’ll miss them.
”
Ozel frowned. “I was hoping there was some sort of trick to it, to make it easier for both of us.”
Alabora barked a laugh. “Easy?”
“Too much to ask for, isn’t it?”
“You should know better.”
In the end, when he found Aysu, there wasn’t much to say. She just grabbed him, hugged him, kissed his face, and made him promise to be safe.
“Me?” he said. “What about you promising to be safe? You’re the one going off with the army.”
Aysu brushed a lock of hair out of her face and fixed him with a serious look. “Yes, well, I said it first.”
The army was moving, but appeared to have its feet stuck in pitch. Ozel had expected a great horn to blow, and thought the army would leave in the big blocky formations it used to practice marching about. There were a few horns, but they seemed haphazard, and the leaving didn’t happen in orderly formations. It was as though a few people decided to leave, and then a few more, and then a few more, until nearly everyone was plodding along down the road. He watched them go from the tower he’d chosen for his command post.
He thought he could see the wagon Aysu and her father were in, carrying all the tools necessary to perform field repairs on weapons and armor in the event of a prolonged engagement. It reminded him of when Aysu had jumped down from her father’s cart to speak to him when he’d been on the road to confront Bartu Hamdi, an event which had happened so far in the past that it must certainly have happened to another person in another world entirely.
Ozel had chosen not to say anything about it, but he could tell from the way Usta, Wagast, and Yonca had been looking at one another the last few days that they thought this was a lost cause. Ozel didn’t agree.
While he knew that the world was not fair, he also knew that he and Aysu were strong. Surely the enemy was strong too. They must be, to give Usta the cloud of despair that seemed to hang over him. But Ozel and Aysu were stronger. The enemy might have a great evil wizard, but they’d faced great evil wizards before.
Then he had another thought. How great did an evil wizard need to be in order to have the skill to create an undead copy of himself? Certainly the creator would be an order of magnitude more powerful than his creation?
Ozel shivered at the thought, and the army marched slowly away.
Chapter 36
The defenses on the Ilbez side of the Sakir Tunnel were impressive. The extramortals had created lookout points, arrow slits, and fighting positions fit for any castle, but since they were carved out of rock rather than stacked stone they looked nearly impenetrable. Then again, if the extramortals could carve them out of the rock, the rock wasn’t impenetrable, was it? The lavadams below had carved tunnels in the rock, it seemed.
Wagast considered this as he, Usta, and Yonca looked out over the dark plain. There were flashes of lightning in the distance. At least they’d be protected from the rain by the mountain overhead. That triggered Wagast’s memory.
“Has anyone seen Ergam?” he asked.
Usta shook his head sadly. “I asked when we arrived. They say he appeared once, gathered up a load of scrap metal and went back up the mountain.”
“Scrap metal?” Wagast asked.
Yonca raised an eyebrow.
Usta shrugged. He didn’t know what it meant either.
“I don’t mean to be indelicate,” Yonca said. “But is Ergam, er, likely to do himself harm?”
“Surely not,” Usta said, taken aback.
Wagast looked pained. “It’s not unheard of in the extramortal community. They see it much differently than we do, which is understandable in some sense given that they’ve already died once. I doubt they’d put words to this sentiment exactly, but some seem a little tired of being alive.”
The lightning flashed in the distance again. Yonca made a noise in her throat.
Wagast had been thinking about what he could possibly do to help Ergam, but when he heard the noise he looked up. He concentrated on the horizon. The lightning flashed again. He grunted, looked over at Yonca. They met eyes.
“We have more immediate problems,” Yonca said. “That’s not lightning.”
Usta looked out over the darkened landscape. The lightning flashed again. “Looks like lightning.”
“Look closely,” Yonca said.
Once more the flashes came. Usta inhaled sharply as he saw it this time. “It’s coming from the ground.”
“We might need to have a look—”
Yonca was cut off by a crash and an explosion far in the distance. First, they saw the flash of yellow light. Then they could feel the tremors in their feet. Last, the sound came. It was faint, but all the more terrifying because they knew how far the sound had traveled.
Yonca cleared her throat. “As I was saying, I think we should go have a look.”
Usta looked aghast. “What if something happens? We can’t lose the world’s two most powerful wizards before the battle even starts. We’ll send a scout.”
“A scout wouldn’t know what to look for or how to interpret what he or she saw,” Wagast said.
“What about the spiders?” Usta asked.
Yonca shook her head. “They’d be worse than a human scout in this case.”
Another crash shook the ground.
“Hmm,” Usta said. “What about Eustace?”
Yonca shook her head again. “We couldn’t count on his scouting.”
Wagast raised a finger. “But we might send him to go look for Ergam. Eustace likes Ergam.”
“True.”
The ground shook again and another explosion erupted in the distance. The scouts at other lookout points must be seeing them now, because they could hear excited talking.
“We should go,” Yonca said. “Now.”
“Not to worry, Alper,” Wagast said. “We’ll watch each other.”
The soldiers working the heavy outer tunnel gate were every bit as afraid as the ones working the inner doors. Wagast could tell from the way they rolled their eyes around in their helmets. They did as they were ordered to do, but they didn’t want to open the gate or door at all. It was as though they were afraid that some of the evil horde would waft in on a breeze and they’d all be lost.
Such a thing might even be possible, Wagast thought. Who knew how deep the evil magic could run?
When they were outside the gate, Yonca urged her spider mount on and they were running. They wouldn’t have far to go. All they needed was to crest the hill so that they could have a look down into Ilbez.
When they did, Yonca and Wagast both gasped. Ilbez was on fire. Rather, the rubble and splinters that had formerly been Ilbez were on fire, and the fire gave illumination to the host that was marching through it. The Yetkin horde’s foot soldiers could be seen in the firelight looking left and right, hoping for a living thing to kill on their way through, but the evacuation of Ilbez had been total.
Behind the foot soldiers were the mages, also looking around for something to kill or destroy. But what came behind them was worse.
Giant beings, the like of which Wagast had never seen, lumbered along, each one urged along by a mage shooting it in the backside with electricity from time to time. The giants were not Yetkin or man, but some other huge species. Had they been shrunk to the size of a man they’d have still been impossibly broad and muscled, with squat, hard faces like stone blocks. Each seemed to be wearing a scoop woven of iron bands on one hand.
Yonca must have seen these too, and she looked over her shoulder. Wagast shrugged at her.
Then, as they watched, a giant was shocked. There must have been something different about this shock as the giant didn’t just keep moving along, but slowly presented its hand with the metal scoop. Then, the mage began to cast a fireball into the cage. The giant howled with fear of the fire, but held still until the fireball was huge. Then, when the giant could stand the heat of the flames no longer, it whipped its thick arm over its head, throwing the fireball into the distance. It arced th
rough the air and exploded against the ground, throwing dirt and rocks and gouts of flame in all directions.
The crash shook the earth and Yonca’s spider mount scrambled to the side in fear. Yonca spoke to it and tugged on its reins, but in the process Wagast nearly toppled. She whooped at the giant spider to calm it, and managed to get it back under control. But as she did, a yipping shout echoed from below them somewhere. They both recognized this as a sign that some party of Yetkin was closer than they’d thought. They’d probably heard Yonca whooping at her mount. Whatever the case, it was time to head back to the tunnel.
But as Yonca wheeled her spider around, there were shapes moving in the darkness to cut them off. Streaks of green magic came shooting in from the side as well. They were moving too fast to tell for sure, but Wagast thought they might be some kind of hybrid of magic and arrows combined. The sickly green glow of them definitely didn’t look welcoming. There had only been a half dozen or so, streaking wildly toward their vicinity. Whoever had sent the missiles either couldn’t see them well or couldn’t control the shots properly. As for why they’d stopped the volley, Wagast could only guess.
Yonca’s spider mount was gaining speed, heading back the way they’d come, but then another volley of the green-tipped missiles came toward them out of the darkness. Wagast threw up his shield spell, and as he did, Yonca piloted her mount to sidestep the attack. The result was that Wagast’s shield let one of the missiles through, although it was slowed considerably by the edge of the defense. It stung a little where it hit Wagast’s upper chest, but bounced away. If it gave him a cut at all it couldn’t be any bigger than a fingernail. Still, he grunted with surprise.
“Are you hit?” Yonca yelled over her shoulder.
“No,” Wagast lied. “All good.”
Had she asked if he was pissed off, however, the answer would have been an unequivocal yes.
