I left him to it and got on with my task. I was there to keep watch for anything coming our way, not to fight. I sat on my arse with my Gift open, sweeping the surroundings for hints of thought.
Bryden was our eyes in the sky, and our best defence against the winged daemons that periodically swooped in to try to eat our faces and make nests out of our bodies, or whatever the bloody things wanted. After seeing the insides of that frozen farmstead I wouldn’t put anything out of bounds, and I took great pleasure in every one he plucked from the sky and sent plummeting to its death.
Every so often I stood and gave early warning that the enemy were approaching. We packed up and fled south to the next narrow, uneven bit of path to repeat the process. Some of our archers stayed behind to harry the enemy, and if they got very lucky, to put a halrúna face down in the snow before they too were forced to retreat under a hail of arrows or worse, magic.
There was never enough time. The enemy had one or more geomancers and while they might be slower removing the obstructions than Cormac was in constructing them, they would still be able to take apart the worst of what we were able to throw in their path as their army approached. We took pleasure at hearing distant howls of pain as men stepped on spikes, and we were successful in slowing down their march to a full day of grinding, gruelling pitiful advance that tired out their Gifted for little gain. Of course Cormac was left exhausted as well, but the grumpy bearded git could take it and bounce back the next day.
At dusk I began a roaring argument with Eva. She had ditched her heavy armour for soft, quiet snow-white cloth covering her from hooded head to toe and was determined to go in under the cover of darkness alone to kill as many of their leaders as she could.
I thought that was fucking stupid and told her so with none of my usual charm. She finally had enough of my squawking and started walking away and I had to grab her arm to stop her. Or I tried to. I might as well have tried to stop a whole team of enraged oxen. She dragged me stumbling along behind her, slowed not at all.
I didn’t let go. “I won’t let you do this.”
She stopped and used two fingers to prise off my hand. Her two fingers were stronger than my hand and arm combined. I winced as she bent my hand back. “They are two days from our camp. We need at least three before our reinforcements arrive. I need to buy us one more day. What else would you have us do?”
I shook my head. “I don’t fucking know. Something that doesn’t get you killed might be a good start.”
“I came here knowing that I would sacrifice myself if it proved necessary.”
“I know that, but I’m not going to let you. I’m in charge here, remember?”
She snorted and her single eye studied me from behind her steel mask. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because I just do!” I shouted. “Not everything has to be complicated. Sometimes you just bloody well care about someone.” I looked her right in the eye. “And probably far more than I have any right to.”
She was silent for a time but I felt her yearning for something normal in the middle of this battlefield so far from home. “There can be no future for us.”
I shrugged. “Never said there was. I’m no great catch.”
She coughed, choking on her own surprise. “You? I meant me.” For a moment I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “Oh. I hadn’t even considered your burns.” I had only been thinking about her personality and her mind. She was brave, loyal, hardworking, intelligent, sarcastic, drank like a fish and boasted a sharp tongue. What more could a man want?
She did not know how to reply to that, shocked and unsure if she was angry or not. Instead she shoved it all aside and focused on her goal. “You cannot come. You would only slow me down. If I can kill my targets and retreat to safety then I will.”
She was right, I would not be able to move quick enough to get in and out in one piece and all my mental trickery could not take on an entire armed camp at once. “Then I will ride along inside your head. I can do that now.”
She groaned. “As long as you stay quiet and let me get on with my work. I have nothing to hide.”
I knocked on her thoughts and she grudgingly let me into the courtyard of her mind, but her innermost thoughts and feelings were locked away tight behind thick keep walls. “Stay where you are put,” she said. “I am in charge here.”
Sure thing, my lady. I will try to keep you safe.
My body stood senseless and vulnerable once again. I reached out to Jovian’s mind and ordered him to take it to safety and guard me as I rode along in the back of Eva’s mind.
That lanky, good-for-nothing wastrel of a man is beyond infuriating, she thought. He needs a few good kicks up the rear to keep him in line.
I can hear you, I said indignantly. You do know that right? Oh, wait, of course you do. Bitch!
Bitch? she snorted. Weak. Then than makes you a gangrenous, dog-faced, leper-fucker!
I had to admit to being impressed. Another reason why I liked her. Eva reached up and undid the buckles that held her steel mask in place and carefully set it down where she could find it again if she returned. This was no place for metal reflections.
For the first time in months she walked out in the open without her mask. She tried not to think about that hideous sight. The chill air bit into the holes in her ruined face and nipped at exposed sensitive teeth.
I said nothing. It wasn’t like my usual uncouth and inappropriate self, but I knew if I said anything at all about it then she would immediately kick me out of her thoughts and never trust me again.
Eva took a deep breath and let her magic seep into every part of her body, granting strength and hardness beyond anything human. Armour was not necessary for anything less than a direct hit by a war hammer or spiked axe swung by a giant of a man, and even then it would be more likely to scratch than kill. Magic was a different matter, and speed was her best defence. Might rose inside and with it the urge to rampage among the enemy like a god of war.
Enveloped by darkness, she ran swift and nimble towards the enemy camp. Her magically-enhanced eyesight was superior to theirs and she could see every sentry they had placed: around fires warming frost-bitten hands, and also those huddled in the shadow of icy rocks waiting to see if anybody would attack the visible guards. Eva avoided them all with ease, laying low when their eyes swept across the area and then flitting past, silent as a spirit.
Insectile daemons with luminous green eyes and armoured carapaces stalked the snowy night where humans dared not tread, sniffing the air as Eva drew close, antennae twitching. A swift punch through the head silenced them as she passed, barely slowing as they slumped down dead. She flicked gunk off her fists and sped towards the lights and tents.
There were three tribal standards in this camp, the boar, the eagle and the sea serpent. All should have separate war leaders here in the larger tents.
Careful, I advised her. I feel halrúna in these two large tents to your right, and we are in luck – one of those is a geomancer. Take her out and they won’t be able to counter Cormac. To your left is a fancy tent with an eagle emblem on the side; it’s a ruse, the war-leader of the Eagle Tribe is actually in the smaller one just to the left of it and his sub-chiefs in the large one. The war-leader of the Boars is absent but the Sea Serpents’ chief is on the far north of the encampment. I doubt you can make it there and back unseen.
Her sensitive eyes and my mental senses worked well together, and Eva was only just discovering the joys of having somebody along for the ride who could read minds and steal information.
Oh yes, you are a joy alright, she thought. Now cease your prattle and let me do my gods-damned job.
I did as she asked and got up to no good by infiltrating Skallgrim minds in the vicinity. Sooner or later a distraction would probably come in handy.
The halrúna were her primary target, the closest war-leader with the eagle banner was the secondary objective and his two sub-chiefs a tertiary goal. She wanted to cut the head f
rom the body and if everything went well, have them thrash about mindlessly for a good few hours until somebody else took over.
Eva wasn’t one for lingering about and wasting time. With my Gift for detecting minds guiding her path, she ducked and dived and crawled through snow and dashed through the camp until she was right outside the tent of the halrúna. The snoring was thunderous, deep in sleep after a day’s exertion removing Cormac’s geomantic handiwork.
She slit a doorway up the side of the tent and slipped through, drawing another knife ready to impale the first skull.
Wait! I said, drawing her attention to a perfect circle of dog’s teeth on the floor by the beds, each tipped red with human blood – some sort of crude heathen ward.
If you give me a little time I can unpick those, I suggested.
There was no time for that, she thought. All wards had a very short delay before activating and these heathens were no Arcanum experts. She palmed a knife in each hand, and considered throwing them. No, there was no certainty of a one-hit kill against Gifted that way and she wouldn’t have time for a second. She filled her muscles with as much magic as they could stand and then dived forward over the first bed, knife crunching through the centre of the sleeper’s forehead. She let go and rolled, launching herself over the next bed, the second knife punching through the orbit of an eye and up into their brain as she passed over it.
The earth exploded in vicious spikes behind Eva as she burst headfirst through the canvas wall, already running towards the war-leader of the Eagle Tribe as the tent was torn to pieces. There was a guard outside, reacting sluggishly as she blurred towards him. A fist to the face sent his corpse flying. She was into the next tent, found the bearded war-leader unarmoured and in his blankets with a book open. His eyes bulged in shock as she grabbed his head and twisted. His neck snapped like kindling. She dropped him, exited, did the same to his sub-chiefs in the next tent, and then sped north towards the war-leader of the Sea Serpents.
What are you doing? I howled. Are you cracked in the head? You are done here.
She could not let the war-leader live and take charge. All of them needed to die here and now; she was not likely to get another chance. The camp erupted into yells as she sprinted north, keeping pace with the cries of shock and anger. Keep them confused. If they didn’t know where she was and what she was then she might yet survive.
I fell silent, feverishly working on something dark and devious, warping the minds of outraged Skallgrim warriors.
Magic flared above the camp, a burning white magelight turning night into day. Men pointed and lifted weapons as Eva charged past them. Arrows and spears began raining down around her. One or two struck home, staggering her but not anywhere near to penetrating a knight’s iron-hard skin.
There! Right ahead, the leader of the Sea Serpents emerging from his tent with a glowing axe clutched in a meaty hand.
Two guards got in her way. Eva blasted through without slowing, sending them spinning and broken. Then it was their leader’s time to die. Her fist flashed towards his face. He dodged, slipping aside with unnatural grace. A mageborn with enhanced physical abilities! Moving too fast, she skidded in slush and plunged into the tent behind him, momentarily caught up in a tangle of goatskin and canvas. She ripped free and found herself facing three armoured warriors, their mageborn leader with an enchanted axe and… shit, a wizened halrúna festooned with bone charms and beads.
Eva was in a sticky situation but she didn’t let that stop her. She made for the leader of their clan, dodging two axe blows from his guards. A single punch sent one to the snow with a crushed sternum. Their leader scowled and twirled his axe, saying something in their guttural language as he stared at her ruin of a face.
The halrúna lifted his bone wand and flames burst from the end to curl around it. Eva flinched back. Fear and self-loathing filled her as she cursed her fatal moment of hesitation. She wouldn’t reach her target in time.
Fortunately for her, all my hard work had paid off handsomely. The war-leader staggered as the head of a spear burst through his chest. He pitched forward as ten men bearing eagle crests on their shields charged in howling vows of revenge. One of the newcomers hacked at the mageborn’s neck, then lifted the severed and dripping head aloft by the hair, screaming in victory. The rest went for the halrúna. Flames devoured three of the men before he went down, axes rising and falling in bloody arcs above him, lines of red painting the snow.
The magelight went out, plunging the area into darkness once again.
Get the fuck out of there! I shouted in Eva’s head. I have them believing the Sea Serpents betrayed them and killed their leaders. It will be mayhem. Abrax-Masud may have forged the Skallgrim into an army but the old blood feuds run deep.
You scare me, Eva thought as death screams filled the night.
You scare me! I protested. But damn, you can fight.
She smiled, burnt cheek and jaw protesting. I was her silent companion until she escaped the camp and retrieved her mask. The night felt too quiet and she was alone and miserable in drenched and freezing clothing. Such was the comedown after a battle.
I returned to my own body, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me as I waited for Eva at the edge of camp, worried that despite everything she was still in danger, or wounded, or worse. Her steel mask floated towards me, shining eerily in the darkness, a wraithlike vision of death. Then I could make out actual arms and legs, all soaked and dripping with sweat and blood and brains.
I was furious and relieved, a heap of emotion all rolled into a tight ball of stress that thumped in the centre of my chest. I tossed her the dry blanket.
“We bought a day,” she said. “Don’t say another word about the risk. I’m hungry. Be a dear and fetch me meat and drink.”
I bit my tongue and did just that. Whatever relationship we had was a tentative thing always teetering on outright disaster, and my tongue tended to run away with itself in all the worst ways. That and her battle-blood was still high and she could crack me like an egg with only a single finger.
She had butchered men and was in no mood to talk. Unlike older magi, she still cared about people of no personal importance, though it would not stop her doing her duty. I felt a fleeting sense of regret for what I had lost, but only for a single moment.
CHAPTER 29
Dawn arrived. All the Setharii and Clansfolk warriors sat on their half-frozen arses spooning down lukewarm porridge while staring at slices of salted bacon sizzling on upturned metal shields placed above the hot embers of last night’s fires, every grumbling belly willing the salty mouth-watering meat to cook faster. Skins of ale were passed around as we toasted the fall of the Skallgrim camp. The valley echoed with the distant clang of steel and the piteous wails of the dying as tribesman butchered tribesman, not that they saw each other as any kind of kin at all of course. Forced allies were no allies at all, just enemies temporarily working towards the same goal.
As for our side, their death cries were beautiful music to many of our ears. Some found that thought macabre, even evil, but others had seen friends hacked to death by Skallgrim invaders right in front of them and took a great deal of satisfaction from our enemies gutting one other. To my mind, it was better them than us.
With the rising of the sun, word must have spread about the betrayal of the Sea Serpents, we saw smoke from other camps to the north. That was a damned good sign for us and a satisfying personal victory for me. A few whispered words into the right minds were worth far more than a hundred swords.
Storm clouds still boiled to the north and lightning flashed periodically, thunder rolling down the valley. With Abrax-Masud busy surviving the fury of the Clanholds’ great spirits, his mind-controlling magic was unavailable and it would take the Scarrabus time to regain control of their human forces.
We had no idea how many Scarrabus existed in this realm or how many of them inhabited humans of influence, but they had their work cut out for them getting all those feuding trib
es to work together again after such a vicious outbreak of bloodshed. Old grudges had come to the fore and now new ones were being birthed into the world even as we sat here and admired our handiwork.
I enjoyed the results and wished to heap more on them. Our three youngest magi – Bryden, Secca and Vincent – felt conflicted: killing daemons was one thing, but humans quite another. Cormac was an older magus and as jaded about such things as I was. As for Eva, she might have been young but she had seen many a battlefield and many more deaths than all of us combined. She was a veteran and was already planning how to kill more of them.
Under Eva’s guidance Cormac returned to work growing spikes of stone in irregular patches across the valley, partly to discourage a night assault, and partly to break up and hamper any enemy charges come the morrow. Diodorus took Baldo and Andreas with him to paint the spikes with a grey paste he called the screaming death. It sounded delightful to me.
Bryden and Vincent, assisted by Nareene, combined on more exploding wards. Bryden was a skilled aeromancer and I a mere dabbler. There were better ways I could be of use. I found myself a quiet hollow to relax and open my mind, drifting through the thoughts of our army to dampen fears and where necessary induce fierce courage. We had to be ready and I had no qualms about seizing whatever advantage I could create. So many secrets dropped into my lap: scandals, murders, plots and plans, theft and unrequited love, all manipulated to make them fight harder and longer. The faces of murderers, rapists, betrayers and everything dark and disgusting were linked to the enemy, old angers and grudges ready to be resurrected and all those feelings set to come to the fore when we faced them in battle – they would not break.
The Skallgrim thought their berserkers were fierce – ha, those ignorant heathens hadn’t seen anything yet. It kept me busy and out of Eva’s way while she directed the defence preparations.
God of Broken Things Page 24
