“How can I help you this fine day?” Lem kept the words pleasant, but swept the air around his legs with his club and locked his eyes with the first of the strangers. Beside him Kell was hastily pulling his axe from his belt. If he moved with his regular grace, the situation would be resolved before Kell was ready.
N’Heelis, Chosen of the Forge of Wrommish and King in Gold, smiled with both of his mouths. The effect was unsettling for Lem and Kell alike, and while Lem was trying to recover from the oddity, N’Heelis broke his skull with a single palm strike.
Kell was trying to understand exactly what had happened to the larger guard when N’Heelis ruptured his airway with a follow-up maneuver that the young guard never even saw.
N’Heelis did not speak the tongue common to the Fellein. He did not care. He was here for a reason.
“Kill them all. Every last one. We offer no mercy this day.”
Once through the gate the Sa’ba Taalor moved quickly, becoming individuals instead of a crowd. Three of them moved up the two separate stairs leading to the walkway on the first wall.
There was no time to celebrate. The followers of Wrommish had been given a mission and they intended to see it through. Wrommish wanted Jorhuan by the end of the day. N’Heelis was glad to provide whatever his god demanded.
The eight with him were younger and not as fully experienced in war as many of his followers, but that was not a concern. They could fight. They now had a chance to prove themselves.
The gates remained open after them. Two stood at the open gates and looked inward, prepared to kill any who tried to flee.
Grath and Delon went up the stairs on the left side and Larrister took the flight on the right. They moved gracefully and quickly, all of them wearing heavy guards on their forearms to allow for some protection.
The first City Guards went down without a protest. They didn’t question the people coming toward them because there had been no alarm sounded. Delon managed to break the neck of her opponent soundlessly and he slumped to the walkway. Larrister was not as fortunate and the body of his target fell from the walkway and crashed into a stall below where the fight occurred.
That was enough to alert the rest of the guards. Weapons were drawn and soldiers charged, prepared to fight for the safety of their people.
Grath stood aside and let Delon go first. Delon did not disappoint. She moved quickly and as the first guard came for her she blocked his attempt at swordplay and broke his arm at the elbow. He screamed and dropped his weapon. She moved on and let Grath finish the task.
On the other side Larrister moved like a thrown blade, cutting down the first and then the second opponent without even changing expression. He swept the legs of the first guard and forced the man’s face into the wall hard enough to shatter it. The second came for him and was thrown over the wall, but not before his body was bent into a new shape. Larrister was not subtle, but he was powerful.
The others moved forward, charging past their king and attacking. There were no weapons. This was a test of their unarmed skills. An axe came down and was deflected; a hand broke the wrist of the axe-wielder and the weapon was taken away and thrown at another opponent.
N’heelis watched and judged.
When the City-Guard came from their barracks on their horses, he stood prepared for them. Just as his followers had their parts, so too did their king.
Men on horseback have many advantages. They have speed, they have mass. They have weapons meant to impale or kill with ease.
N’Heelis had training and faith.
The first horseman came at him swinging a long flail. Moving aside was an easy enough task. As the rider charged past, surprised to have missed, the king broke the horse’s hind leg with a brutal kick. Horse and rider both fell, and in so doing created an obstacle for the rest of the horsemen.
Horses veered. Riders tried to compensate for the sudden changes. N’Heelis took advantage of every delay, striking again and again and often killing or maiming with a single blow.
When a weapon came to him, which was not uncommon as they fell from the hands of his enemies, he used them. A spear dropped from a rider’s grip and N’Heelis used it to block a sword and impale a rider.
The men fighting him quickly learned to keep their distance and it was only a matter of minutes before the first crossbow was leveled at him.
Their gods chose the kings of the Sa’ba Taalor because they exemplified all that the individual gods wanted from their followers. N’Heelis was no exception. Throughout his long life he had fought with few weapons and relied on his body as the main offense and defense.
The crossbow bolt was aimed at his heart. He saw the archer aiming for him and moved, sliding sideways. The bolt that should have killed him slipped past and grazed his forearm instead.
When four more of the guards aimed at him, he knew dodging alone would no longer take care of the matter. One arrow was a very different consideration.
While the King in Gold was keeping the attention of most of the people near the southern gate, his followers took care of their own business. None of the Sa’ba Taalor paid the least bit of attention to the spectacle. Instead they followed his commands and eliminated the guards along the wall and moved quickly to the northern gate.
The guards did not continue to ignore them. The first few fell quickly before N’Heelis distracted the locals but the rest did not stare down into the center of the area. Instead they took note of their enemies along the wall and did their best to kill the intruders.
Grath took a crossbow bolt through his left eye and roared his pain for all to hear. He was a fighter and a skilled warrior but the pain was immense and he fell to his hands and knees, defenseless.
Delon considered Grath a friend but her duty was not to protect a weak ally. She served the King in Gold and Wrommish. The axe of the closest guard served to cripple the archer who had fired before another bolt could be set in the crossbow. Four long strides later she shattered his jaw and shoved the man aside on her way to the northern gate.
Larrister fared better. His sheer size and ferocity unsettled his opponents. They had never seen a grayskinned man before, nor had most of them ever been in a serious fight beyond a moderate amount of training.
Jorhuan was fortified, yes, and as with all of the people in Fellein, the City Guard had all spent their time in the armies of the Empire, but none of them had ever seen combat. It is one thing to practice war games and another entirely to engage in war.
The City Guard hesitated when Larrister roared and came for them. Larrister did not hesitate. He charged like a bull, grabbing any item that was of the right size and hurling it at the closest target, the better to confuse and disorient. Where Delon had to engage all her enemies, fully half of the City Guard facing Larrister panicked and ran before considering their actions.
Larrister’s choice of tactics failed him when the guards on the lower level, beside the northern gate, aimed crossbows at him and fired. A bolt plunged into his calf. The wound was not serious enough to stop the man, but it slowed him substantially.
Delon won the race for the gate, taking out the last of the soldiers in her path before moving down the walkway and attacking the two men who were looking toward Larrister and reloading their crossbows.
She did not give them time to change targets.
While Delon and Larrister made their charge, the rest of the Sa’Ba Taalor with them systematically killed anyone in their path, regardless of age or gender. They had their orders and they followed them.
The entire affair might have ended with none of the invaders killed if not for the actions of Branfer Hollis, a hunter who took one look at the invaders and promptly released his dogs.
The animals were well trained and had been employed on numerous occasions to help the hunter take down big game. They moved for the strangers when Branfer pointed and they came in low and fast enough to catch the Sa’ba Taalor off guard.
N’Heelis watched a boy he’d seen raised
from infancy move the wrong way to defend himself and die in an instant. The dog ripped open his throat and tore at his face.
He did not have time to do anything about it, even if he’d had the inclination. Men with crossbows were trying to kill him and staying alive was taking all of his concentration.
Another of his followers went down, struggling with the dog, and came back up after breaking the animal’s back. He came back up bloodied and missing three fingers.
The situation might have only grown worse from there. The dogs were fast and they were savage. The opening of the north gate changed everything when Tusk and his riders came through.
The dogs were vicious. The mounts were worse.
Tusk came with seventeen of his people. Most of them were on mounts and pulling wagons loaded with corpses.
Tusk did not interfere with the actual taking of the town. That was not his purpose. He delivered the dead and nothing more, but he watched and he smiled as N’heelis and his followers finished the work they had started.
Tusk looked to N’Heelis when he was done and smiled. “A good day’s work!”
N’Heelis looked to his people, the wounded, the unscathed and the dead, and agreed.
Then he began the work the Wrommish demanded. There were bodies that had to be moved, and more of his people came through the open gates to assist.
What the gods demanded he was glad to do.
The Temmis Pass was not a well-known point on the map. It was mentioned, as was the town of Hallis, the very small collection of buildings that made up the most western point in the whole of the Fellein Empire. The population was usually a bit under a dozen.
Currently Hallis was home to a much larger gathering: the tents and supplies for the First Lancers Division. A city of canvas and wagons surrounded the tiny gathering of buildings. To say the people of Hallis were unsettled would be a vast understatement.
Colonel Lockner Horast had every intention of following the orders given to him by General Merros Dulver. To that end the men were ready for war. Each of the Lancers remained prepared and armed at all times and within easy walking distance of their steeds. They wore light armor and sported great shields, hand-to-hand weapons and, of course, their lances.
The Sa’ba Taalor came up the only easy access point for the area, moving en masse up the Temmis Pass, ready for whatever might come their way. First up were foot soldiers, and they came armed and wearing armor. No two were alike, and most of the people in the small town would have been hard pressed to say which was the most terrifying.
The Sa’ba Taalor were not giants. They were not monsters, but they were almost as alien as any of the nightmares from legend. All of the people in the town had heard of the Pra-Moresh. None had ever seen one. All had heard of the invaders, and they had been witness previously when the King in Iron spoke with the Empress Nachia Krous. They had surely never expected to see a greater spectacle in their lives and that was their mistake.
The Sa’ba Taalor came in formation, moving in lines thirty soldiers wide and carrying various weapons and shields. As they walked they tapped the edge of whatever weapons they carried on the edge of the shields and did so in perfect step with their strides. The end result was a sound rather like thunder. If it was designed to unsettle the locals it worked very well.
The entire population of Hallis – all twelve of them - took it upon themselves to get away while they could, and moved between tents and past wagons as they ran from the newcomers.
As soon as they had cleared the way, the First Lancers Division charged in.
The Sa’ba Taalor struck an impressive sight as they marched in formation up the trail from the Blasted Lands.
The first rank of horsemen made an impressive sight as they impaled a dozen of the men who could not break formation fast enough to avoid being run through. The lances did their jobs and their targets died or were maimed. The charges continued forward into the ranks of the Sa’ba Taalor while their riders drew short swords and swept their blades into the flesh of their enemies.
The reaction was immediate and violent. The formations fell apart into a seething mass of conflict. Horsemen tried to move forward and their enemies did their best to cut them down where they stood. Both had moderate success. The first of the horsemen was pulled from his saddle and thrown to the ground even as his ride was nearly beheaded by an axe chop to the neck.
The Sa’ba Taalor broke ranks and moved around the first chargers, heading for the rest of the enemies they saw waiting for them. The second rank of lancers moved into them at a hard run, first using lances and then switching to flails, bashing in skulls and denting shields as they charged past.
The First Lancers were among the best that Fellein had, and they proved it that day.
The fighting started brutally and did not slow down.
Through the first assault only two hundred of the Lancers were sent in. The rest waited as patiently as they could, knowing that to charge in any sooner would only add to the congestion and chaos of the moment.
The enemy was proficient at fighting, but hardly seemed ready for handling the soldiers on horses.
That changed the moment the first rank of mounted Sa’ba Taalor showed themselves. The fighting had been going on for several minutes and the foot soldiers had done their very best to clear a path. What had seemed initially to be a panic on the part of the brutes from the Blasted Lands was, in fact, merely a clearing of the way. The mounts were not horses. They were larger, and they were carnivores. The chargers were trained to fight against other horses and riders. They were not prepared for the ferocity of the nightmares the grayskins rode.
Horses and riders alike attempted to retreat, but it wasn’t meant to be. The mounts pulled horses down as they tried to get away, rending flesh from the animals’ flanks and tearing them to the ground. Their riders were equally brutal, using weapons familiar and completely foreign to the Fellein alike.
Still the lancers continued on until, at last, the first groups sent in had been taken down by the enemy.
And while they were in the process of being slain by the Sa’ba Taalor, the rest of the lancers waited.
While they waited, a solid wall of horses and men, the Archers Division moved into position and began firing arrows into the ranks of the enemy. Some were ready with shields, but the combat had weakened the proper formations and far larger numbers were taken by surprise. The hail of arrows did the job it was designed to do and sent the grayskins scattering, reaching for shields and trying to prepare themselves. The second volley did almost as much damage, but by the time the third came the Sa’ba Taalor were once again ready for the attack.
By that point over a hundred from each side were either dead or dying.
The sounds of horns calling from lower on the Temmis Pass caused an instant ripple among the Sa’ba Taalor. The formations came back together, this time with the mounted riders to the front. They sported spears in some cases but few, it seemed, had ever used a lance.
Sadly for the lancers they seemed perfectly willing to learn. Worse still, they were excellent at adapting to new situations. Spears and stolen lances alike came into play and the mounts charged at the horses and riders. The horses charged back but even from a distance Lockner could see that the training was only barely holding. It was one thing to expect an animal to charge at a soldier, another to expect even welltrained horses to charge a predatory nightmare.
While the two groups were engaging, the Sa’ba Taalor moved their archers forward.
The First Lancers Division had excellent training. Their enemy had numbers, and four times as many archers. In the end there was only one possible conclusion.
Delil was waiting for Andover in the valley past Wheklam. The land there was rocky and the waters that trickled through the area ran hot and steamed up the air. By the time they ran across each other both had stripped down to the bare essentials and were sweating profusely.
There was no food to be had, so they went hungry.
“How do I look different?” He touched the third of his Great Scars, momentarily selfconscious. If Delil saw the gesture, she did not say anything.
“Your skin is more like ours. And your eyes have the proper shine to them.”
He frowned as he contemplated that. “Do you suppose I am becoming one of your people?”
“Would that bother you?” She looked at him carefully, her feet seeming to know exactly where they should move.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “No. I am already no longer who I was. I have hands, and I have…” He shook his head at a loss for words.
“You have what?”
“I’m not sure. I have never been good with words, Delil.”
She laughed. “Liar. You are very good with words. You’ve used them to make a hundred excuses in the time I’ve known you.” She did not understand the nature of the gesture he offered. That was just as well. She’d have likely broken his skull if she had.
“I have hands. I have spoken to gods. I’m supposed to speak to more. I never expected any of this.”
“The gods have chosen you, Andover Lashk.”
“Yes, but what have they chosen me for?”
She rolled her head, working to stretch the tension from her body. “Who can say the will of the gods before they let their will be known? Only fools, that is who. Gods do not always explain themselves until they are ready.”
Andover nodded his head and looked toward the next mountain. It was, as they all were, a vast thing. “Which mountain do I look upon, Delil?”
“You stand before great Ordna, the Bronze Mountain.”
He considered that and nodded. “What does Ordna do?”
The Seven Forges Novels Page 78
