Ho’Demi could dimly hear the sound of battle going on some five hundred paces behind him, but he was now so tired he simply did not care. The battle to defend Jervois Landing—and thus Achar—from the forces of Gorgrael had now been going on continuously for some six weeks. The Skraeling wraiths, massing in southern Ichtar since autumn, had finally begun their push south during Snow-month, but their efforts and determination had increased dramatically in the past three weeks. Ho’Demi’s men spent their waking hours pushing swords, pikes, daggers and even sharpened cooking irons into the eyes of Skraelings that scuttled and whispered their way into the trenches.
The Skraelings had grown and changed since their attack on Gorkenfort a year ago. They were far more solid, their torsos showing hard flesh and muscles, their heads and limbs swathed in more bone-like armour. As their flesh grew more solid, so did their courage, their resolve and their cunning.
Ho’Demi hoped Inari would be able to keep his section of the defence lines clear of the IceWorms. A week ago the IceWorms, which the veterans of Gorkenfort regarded with horror, had writhed their cumbersome way out of the mists of southern Ichtar, the wraiths making way for their massive and obscenely bulging bodies. Having been the crucial factor in the collapse of Gorkentown, vomiting their loads of Skraeling wraiths over the fortified walls, the IceWorms were again proving devastating here in Jervois Landing. The IceWorms floated, despite their loads, and they were not overly afraid of water. They writhed through the canals as efficiently as they writhed across land.
And the IceWorms were far, far harder to kill. They were huge, rearing fifty, sixty paces above a man, their twisted, horse-like, tooth-crowded heads too far above the defenders to attack with sword or pike. The defenders needed skilled archers to stop the IceWorms, for the only way to kill them was to shoot an arrow through one of their silvery eyes. But Borneheld’s archers died as easily as did his swordsmen or his pikemen, and there were not enough archers to spread along the lines to counter an IceWorm attack on any one section.
Ho’Demi knew that the defences of Jervois Landing would eventually collapse. The defences rested on the system of canals siphoning the Skraelings into narrow areas where the wraiths could be more easily attacked and killed than if men had been forced to fight them in open spaces. But the IceWorms simply bore straight across the canals, often creeping silently behind Borneheld’s lines and vomiting forth their wraiths before the men knew they were there.
And every day more and more of the IceWorms lurched their way out of the northern mists.
Borneheld had his men so thinly spread along the system of canals that a break through anywhere could well prove fatal for the entire system. Ho’Demi knew that Borneheld fought as gallantly and as long as any of his soldiers. But Borneheld had given orders that men could only be relieved one day in five. What would happen when the men were so tired they simply slept where they stood, leaning on their staves and pikes?
At least most of the Ravensbund women and children had been sent to Sigholt. They had left secretly at night, when all attention was on the battles for the canals. If he and his men died, then at least the children had been saved. Ho’Demi had also sent small units of his fighters northwards to Sigholt. All he thought he could spare from the front lines—although that was precious little. Ho’Demi was desperate to join Axis, but knew that to pull his entire army out now would mean disaster, not only for Borneheld, but ultimately for Axis. So he sent small numbers east and north to Sigholt, and hoped for the day when he could strike camp completely and ride for the StarMan.
High above a snow eagle circled, almost invisible against the low clouds, watching the lone horseman approach the Ravensbund camp. As the rider’s shoulders slumped, the eagle folded its wings and hurtled towards the man.
Ho’Demi! Wake up! Your arm, extend your arm!
Ho’Demi sat up straight so fast he almost fell off his horse. Your arm! the voice sounded again in his mind, and unthinkingly Ho’Demi extended his left arm. Almost instantly a large snow eagle dropped out of the sky and onto Ho’Demi’s arm, the sudden weight so upsetting the exhausted Ravensbundman he had to fight to keep his balance.
“I could have been a Gryphon, Ho’Demi,” the eagle said with Axis’ voice. “You should not ride alone and so vulnerable.”
Ho’Demi shifted in the saddle, trying to adjust to the eagle’s not inconsiderable weight on his arm. “Had a Gryphon snatched me from my horse this past moment, my Lord Axis, then he would have had a tired and tough meal. Besides, Gorgrael does not like to risk them to the arrows of the daylight.”
After their initial, horrific attack when they had carried off Nevelon as well as some lower-ranked soldiers, every man along the Jervois Landing defence line had kept as wary an eye on the sky as on the trenches and canals before him. Especially at night. Especially then. Although the Gryphon did not attack often, they attacked well, reserving their cruelly taloned attentions for obvious commanders.
“The defences are holding?” Axis’ voice asked. The eagle flapped its wings a little as Ho’Demi’s horse stumbled slightly again, and Ho’Demi had to lean back to avoid being hit in the face.
“Only just,” Ho’Demi said. “The IceWorms now appear, and they threaten to break through in a dozen places. They float, my Lord, and they vomit.”
“You need not tell me of their abilities, Ho’Demi.” Axis’ voice was harsh. “I know them well.”
“Does Gorgrael attack Sigholt as well?” asked Ho’Demi.
“No. Gorgrael sent a Skraeling force through the WildDog Plains, but we managed to beat it back and destroy its SkraeBold. Sigholt is well, and most of the Urqhart Hills peaceful, although the Gryphon decimated an Icarii Wing.”
“They took Nevelon,” Ho’Demi said, pulling his horse back to a slow walk as they approached the camp.
“Ah.” Axis’ voice was sad. “I liked Nevelon. We spent many fine hours together before these current troubles began.” The eagle closed its beak, and tilted its head to one side, eyeing Ho’Demi. “Ho’Demi, how many Coroleans does Borneheld have fighting for him now?”
“Some six thousand, my Lord. More wait in Nordmuth for river transports north.”
“Mercenaries? Or does the Corolean Emperor now officially extend military aid to Borneheld?”
“Mercenaries still. Borneheld pushes for a military alliance—his ambassadors wait upon the Corolean Emperor at this moment, but the Emperor still hesitates.”
“Yet even with these six thousand the defences of Jervois Landing falter? Borneheld must have a force nearing thirty thousand now.”
“The defences are long, Lord Axis, and the Skraelings seemingly unending. However many we kill, they simply keep on massing and pushing south.”
The eagle was silent as Ho’Demi rode through the outskirts of the camp. The soft chimes of bells hung from poles and cooking tripods drifted from most tents, but few people were about.
“I speak with you for a reason,” the eagle finally resumed. “I will send aid, aid for Achar rather than for Borneheld.”
Ho’Demi smiled cynically. Axis was splitting hairs here, but at least he was not going to let his hatred of, and rivalry with, Borneheld prevent him from aiding Jervois Landing.
“I will not send mounted men. I do not trust Borneheld enough to send units that would be many days from the protection of Sigholt. Besides, whatever I could send in terms of mounted men or foot soldiers would not make an appreciable difference to the saving of Jervois Landing.”
“You will send the Icarii,” Ho’Demi said. It was the only thing Axis could do.
“Yes. I will send the Strike Force. But I will concentrate their attacks well behind the Skraeling lines in southern Ichtar—for two reasons.”
Ho’Demi reined his horse in at his tent and dismounted—carefully, lest he dislodge the eagle. “I can guess at least one, my Lord. You do not trust Borneheld to stay the order to shoot them if they fly over the defences of Jervois Landing.”
“Do I
misjudge my brother?”
“No.” Ho’Demi stood sheltered from wind and prying eyes between his tent and the protecting body of his horse. “No, you do not misjudge him. Borneheld somehow thinks that all flying creatures fly in league. He is incapable of telling the difference between Gorgrael’s Gryphon and SkraeBolds and the Icarii. They are all targets. All evil.”
“There is an added reason I will direct them behind Skraeling lines, Ho’Demi. I can do more for you if I can stem the tide of Skraelings and IceWorms before they actually reach Jervois Landing’s defences. The Strike Force is good. They were winning the battle in the WildDog Plains for me and I hope that they can turn the tide of wraiths at Jervois Landing.” The voice paused. “The Icarii will arrive soon. Persevere. Tell all who will listen that the Icarii Strike Force will arrive to fight for Achar, as it once did thousands of years ago. Let people know that only a united effort will save Achar from Gorgrael. Spread word of the Prophecy. Serve the Prophecy, Ho’Demi, as you tell me you are bound to do.”
“It is what every Ravensbund man, woman and child lives for. I will do what I can for you.”
“By turning the tide at Jervois Landing I hope you will be freed the sooner to come to me, Ho’Demi. I need you.”
The eagle abruptly lurched into the air, and Ho’Demi staggered as it beat its wings momentarily in his face.
Farewell, Axis SunSoar.
Farewell, Chief Ho’Demi.
As the eagle soared into the clouds above the Ravensbund camp, Ho’Demi quickly unsaddled his horse, brushed him down, and gave him some oats. He lifted the tent flap and slipped inside. He was asleep even before he had finished pulling his outer bed furs about him.
Borneheld leaned out the window of the Tired Seagull and peered at a cluster of soldiers talking and gesturing animatedly in the street. He frowned, then ordered Gautier to bring their sergeant up to explain the excitement.
“Creatures!” the sergeant exclaimed. “Flying.” He was so terrified he could say no more.
Their hearts pounding, Borneheld and Gautier called for their horses and rode to where they could get an unobstructed view. Both clearly saw that the black shapes whirling and diving north of the town were attacking, not reinforcing, Gorgrael’s Skraelings.
“What?” Gautier asked, confused, trying to shade his eyes against the glare of sunlight on the clouds. “What are they?”
“They are Icarii,” Ho’Demi said behind them, and they whirled around. “The Strike Force of the birdmen of Talon Spike. They accompanied Axis to Gundealga Landing.”
“The Forbidden,” Borneheld said. “Cursed and forsaken by Artor. No better than lizards.”
“It would appear that Axis,” Ho’Demi carefully did not call Axis “Lord” in front of Borneheld, “has sent them to aid us. See—they attack the Skraelings. There must be more than five hundred of them, shooting arrows into the Skraeling masses. The Icarii are fine archers.”
Borneheld glared at Ho’Demi then turned back to the sight before him. As much as he hated to admit it, it did appear that the flying lizards were attacking the Skraelings.
“And when do you think that Axis will send them to attack us, Ho’Demi?” Gautier said, hiding his fear behind a sneer.
“You have a truce between you, Gautier,” Ho’Demi replied. “I have no doubt that, as a man of honour, Axis will honour the truce.” He paused. “As will yourself and King Borneheld.”
Borneheld wheeled his horse about and kicked it towards the town. “Order the men not to watch the lizards,” he snapped to Gautier, then caught Ho’Demi’s eye as his horse pushed by the Ravensbundman’s. “That order goes for your men, too, Ho’Demi. No-one watches the Forbidden. No-one discusses them. As far as I am concerned, they are not there.”
But even before the words were out of Borneheld’s mouth it was too late. Along the entire front line, men wearied and despondent turned unbelieving eyes to the sky.
Inari stood in a section of trench with a dozen Coroleans and several Acharites. Inexplicably the tide of Skraelings had lessened slightly an hour ago. Now they could all see why.
The Acharite men murmured fearfully to themselves, but the Coroleans were curious.
“Who are they?” asked their lieutenant.
Inari said nothing, considering.
“Damn, they’re good!” the Corolean muttered as he peered into the sky, and his subcommander punched the trench wall before him in his excitement.
“See how fast they shoot their arrows!”
The lieutenant dropped his eyes to Inari. Of all the men in the trench, his were the only ones which showed no surprise.
“Tell me!” the Corolean demanded.
Inari finally spoke. “They are the Icarii Strike Force,” he said, “and they are sent by the StarMan of Prophecy to aid us and to save Achar.”
“Do you speak of Axis?” one of the Acharites asked cautiously, his curiosity finally overcoming his fear.
“None other,” Inari replied. “Listen.”
The Skraeling mass panicked under the unexpected attack, and the SkraeBolds found the assault on the trenches faltered.
Above them four Crest of Icarii warriors screamed battle cries not heard in a thousand years, their excitement controlled and directed into the deadly rain of arrows they sent hurtling into Gorgrael’s creatures. Every one found a mark.
Further above them soared several dozen scouts, their eyes and senses attuned exclusively to the possible presence of Gryphon.
Hovering over the battlefield, FarSight turned his extraordinary vision to the north, and his nostrils flared in excitement.
“HoverEye! SharpEye!” he screamed. “Turn your Crests to the north. IceWorms!”
Within minutes, two of the twelve IceWorms that were hunching their way towards the canals toppled to the ground, their silver eyes dulled with the weight of countless feathered arrows.
Only nine of the remaining IceWorms managed to get close to the canals, and only seven of those completed the swim across the water.
Infuriated by the Icarii attack and the loss of so many IceWorms, the SkraeBolds used threats and violence to reinfuse their Skraelings with determination and the lust for blood. Within an hour the relentless attack on the trenches behind the canals had resumed.
But as the IceWorm attack had been blunted, so too had the Skraelings’.
It was not a rout, nor even a small victory, for Gorgrael had so many Skraelings packed into the territory above Jervois Landing that the mass largely absorbed the arrows without fatal damage. But it was a start, and it lessened the pressure on the trenches at a moment when they were close to collapse.
Over the next few days the Icarii attack strengthened from above as word of who they were and who had sent them spread along the front line. Borneheld’s orders not to watch the Icarii or speak of them were ignored the instant he and Gautier were out of sight and hearing. The Coroleans were the most curious, and they learned quickly that the Ravensbundmen had the answers they craved. And, gradually, the Coroleans shared their new-found knowledge with their Acharite companions.
Soon whispered word of the Prophecy and the StarMan swept the length of the trenches. Stories of the pride and beauty of Icarii culture, and of the legendary skills of the Strike Force followed; this news, at least, the watchers from below could confirm with their own eyes. Within a week, the men huddled in the mud had heard it all, from the depravity of WolfStar SunSoar to the wonders of the Star Dance and the Icarii Enchanters.
The Ravensbundmen served the Prophecy and the StarMan well.
At any given time Axis had four Crest flying above the Skraeling forces, while four more waited in the south-west Urqhart Hills, some fifteen to twenty leagues from the fighting, and the final four Crest of the Strike Force waited at Sigholt. Every five or six days one of the groups would be relieved by a fresh force of four Crest from Sigholt.
Even as highly trained as they now were, the Icarii found the constant fighting hard. They faced the threat
of Gryphon attack, and, mindful of the disaster that befell SpikeFeather’s Wing, they kept together as much as possible. Four Crest contained almost six hundred Icarii, far too many for Gorgrael’s pack of nine Gryphon to attack. But even so, stragglers would sometimes fall to the fearsome creatures.
To the eyes of the scouts, Axis added the eyes of the eagle, and the solitary figure of the eagle floating high above them became almost a talisman for those Crest fighting the Skraelings below. Peculiarly attuned to the presence of Gryphon, both EvenSong and SpikeFeather spent more than their fair share of hours flying sentinel to the Crests fighting the Skraelings.
One of the main problems facing the Icarii was, again, the replenishing of their arrows. The four Crest soaring above the battlefield on any one day could shoot tens of thousands of arrows—how to ensure enough arrows to fight a full and useful day?
No Icarii could carry enough arrows for a full day’s fighting, and they faced constant danger trying to retrieve arrows from the field of battle.
The Icarii concentrated their attacks on one section of the Skraeling mass, shooting dead as many—if not all—as they could. Then, as the remaining Skraelings fled the area, the Icarii swept to the ground, retrieving as many of their arrows as they could, then soared skywards before the Skraelings could regroup. But this was dangerous, very dangerous, for both SkraeBolds and Gryphon learned quickly to await that moment when a significant number of the Icarii had landed, their eyes to the ground searching for arrows among the disintegrating Skraeling wraiths, and then launch an attack. The Icarii had to divide their number between those on the ground and those remaining in the air, protecting their comrades below.
Ho’Demi did what he could to supply the Icarii with new arrows. The stores in Jervois Landing had good supplies which weren’t used much because of the lack of archers there. Increasingly, the Ravensbundmen stole from Borneheld to supply the Icarii. Through the eagle, Ho’Demi would let the Icarii know when he could supply them with more arrows and a clandestine meeting would take place perhaps a half a league to the east of Jervois Landing. Again, when and if Borneheld discovered what was going on, Ho’Demi and his men would risk death.
Enchanter Page 39
