Dustfall, Book Five - What Lies Beneath

by J. Thorn

  Chapter 37

  “So their leader is a woman?” asked Jonah, as he strode across the plaza. Ghafir and Rav hurried to keep pace with him as they headed toward the barricade at the south end of the large clearing. Behind the group, Solomon took long strides toward Jonah. The big man seemed deep in thought.

  “I've heard that before,” Solomon said eventually.

  “I have too,” said Rav. “But damned if I can remember where from. It may have been something one of the Valk said.”

  The men paused, trying to remember any interaction they had had with the foul creatures from below the surface until Ghafir spoke up.

  “One of the ones that we fought at the breach,” said Ghafir. “I’m sure of it, but I didn’t think much of it back then as it was the last words of a dying warrior.”

  “That was it!” Rav raised one arm, his index finger pointing in the air. “I’ve had several of them mutter something about for the mistress just before I gutted them.”

  Jonah stopped pacing and turned back to the group. “‘The mistress takes us all in the end.’ That was something one of them said to me.”

  The group began walking again.

  “Unusual,” said Jonah, “but not unknown. I've heard of tribes led by their women elders. Not all turn to their male warriors as leaders.”

  “It certainly says something, though,” said Ghafir, “about their intentions here.”

  “How so?” asked Jonah.

  “This is the first time, at least that I've heard of, of that the Valk leader has shown her face. There's never been any apparent form of leadership among them that I've noticed before.”

  Jonah nodded. “Because they all follow one leader, their mistress. And she is here now, in the city.”

  He wondered if the Valk had finally organized enough to make a single, violent push to rid the surface of the last survivors. They had emerged to fight the clans so might it be possible that they’d also take control of the surface after clearing it?

  “She was headed down the alleyway that runs past those buildings,” said Rav. “She had a lot of warriors with her. Nasty looking ones.”

  They headed across the plaza and reached the barricade. All of the roads leading from the plaza had been heavily barricaded, and behind each tall wall stood a walkway. The barricades stood at least twice the height of a man, bolstered from behind with large metal or wooden struts to prevent them from being toppled.

  Now, those walkways had become cramped with defenders that had fled the outer defenses. Some still came from the outskirts of the city, constantly reporting new attacks by the Valk, though Jonah noticed that it had been at least an hour since he’d been notified of another assault. The enemy seemed to have stalled halfway to the center of the city, and from what he could tell, they were gathering in large numbers rather than pressing forward for the final victory.

  It was almost as though they were reluctant to finish the job. It seemed as if as soon as he’d figured out what the Valk were doing, they’d change tactics and leave him shaking his head again.

  “What are they waiting for?” Jonah asked as he stood upon the walkway a minute later, looking out over the top of the barricade. The road stretched out before him, at least two hundred yards of empty highway before he could see the enemy in the distance.

  There aren't as many as there had been before, he thought. Again, what could they possibly be doing?

  “What's going on out there?”

  Nobody answered Jonah. Even the warriors guarding the barricade couldn’t tell him.

  “Not a clue,” said Rav. “My eyesight is getting worse.”

  Ghafir reached inside his shirt and pulled out a long metal tube that he then extended, before holding up one end to his eye and peering through it. Jonah had seen one of these things before but never used one. Seren had been given one by the people of the base, but she had been reluctant to hand it over.

  “Where did you get that?” he asked.

  “I've been trading,” said Ghafir. “I remembered that young lady that stayed in the base had one of these so asked if they had more. They weren’t keen to trade and it cost me dearly, but it's worth it. Here, look. There is something going on out there.”

  He handed the looking glass to Jonah who lifted it to one eye, then closed his other. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust to the distance change, but then he could clearly see the distant movements of the Valk. They gathered in a large number near the end of the street, maybe three hundred yards away, and they seemed to have their backs to him. Beyond the first line of warriors he could see that the crowd was moving, pushing and shoving to get to the front.

  But the front of what? Some sort of strange ritual? Were they praying to whatever god they worshiped before they launched a final assault? But then he saw something that contradicted that. A Valk had raised an ax and brought it down, striking someone, but Jonah couldn’t make out who. Were they fighting among themselves? That would seem a strange thing to do with an enemy at their back.

  Then he saw it, a figure that was not a Valk broke through the line of black armored warriors, hefting an ax, swinging it at the Valk for a few moments before the man was cut down, pierced several times by Valk spears. But then one of the Valk went down, and another warrior appeared.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” he asked, handing the looking glass back to Ghafir. The man took it and peered along the street.

  Jonah asked, “Who are they fighting?” He shook his head and peered at the front line. “Are some of our people still out there?”

  “No,” said Ghafir. “By the ancients.”

  “What then?” asked Jonah.

  “The Valk seem to be engaged with a large number of Cygoa.”

  “How?” asked Solomon. “We left them miles back. They can’t possibly have had time to reorganize.”

  “Damn them,” said Jonah. “I thought we’d left them behind for a while.”

  “And now they are fighting the Valk for us,” said Rav.

  “I can’t imagine the Valk have been any kinder to them than they have us,” said Solomon.

  Jonah grabbed the looking glass again, and watched. The battle raged, and he could see that by the numbers, the Cygoa appeared to be slaughtering the Valk. There had to be three times as many Cygoa as there were Valk.

  “What do we do?” asked Rav.

  “I’m not sure we have many choices right now,” said Jonah. “We either stop hiding behind a wall and take the battle to them, or we could let them kill each other.”

  “They've got their backs to us,” said Rav.

  Jonah frowned, and then gradually a smile formed. “I have an idea.”

  “Fuck no.” Rav shook his head but couldn't hide a wide smile. “I hate it when you get those.”

  “Quickly,” said Jonah. “Gather a hundred warriors with bows and plenty of arrows, and I mean quickly.”

  Chapter 38

  The carnage on the street spread from one side to the other. Bodies piled where the forces clashed, Valk and clan warriors alike. Some of the Valk had dragged slain clansman into the dark alleys of the old city to feast on the warrior flesh before heading back into battle. The smell of smoke and blood hung on the air while the death cries of the dying accompanied the clash of metal on metal.

  Ruk watched from the top of the building, hidden behind the crumbling wall, as the one name Jonah led a force of his warriors from beyond their barriers. A smile crossed her face. This was how it was meant to work. This was what it had all come to. This moment, and so far, her plan seemed to have worked.

  But it was not done yet. This moment, it was crucial, and if she let it slip away there may not be another opportunity. It was costing her dearly in warriors, but that was of no matter. There were always more to be grown and trained in the depths of the earth. The important thing was that she found her targets. She had been hasty, she realized, to launch such a large attack. The clans had built more defenses than she had believed,
and the center of the bastion in the middle of the city was more defendable. It would withstand quite an assault, and may even hold.

  No, this way was better. Let the Cygoa on the outside of the city fight her warriors. Let them push their way forward, drawing the attention of those who hid behind their barriers. Let Jonah see that if he comes out from his bunker he may be able to catch both in battle and rain death upon them with their arrows. Yes, this would come to pass.

  She would lose many more warriors in the coming minutes, and so would the Cygoa as they hurried their attack into the city. It would decimate her gathered forces, at least that is what they would think. She had already sent many of them back into the darkness below, their battle already over, their job already done.

  Jonah was beyond the protection of the barriers and the proud man would move to strike, and the timing would be perfect. She would have a chance.

  She reached behind her and touched one of the weapons that hung from her belt — two crossbows, each small enough to be held in one hand. Then she reached for the long pouch that hung at her side. Twelve bolts, far more than she would need. She took one out, drawing it from its holder and unclipped one of the crossbows. Then, as soundlessly as she could, she notched the bolt. She followed the same quiet ritual with the next until both were loaded and leaning against the wall next to where she knelt.

  Time, that was all that was needed now. Just a little more time. Now was not the moment. This battle must play out first, she knew. When the T’Yun and the Cygoa had destroyed her warriors, they would face each other, and as ever, there would be a parlay. It was something she had never understood, but she accepted that they needed it.

  The Valk never parlayed. The Valk never negotiated.

  Their leaders would speak, she thought as she shifted her position to avoid cramps in her legs. When she struck, there would be chaos, and she would need to leave in a hurry. They would hunt her if they saw her, and she needed to be far away before they even started to give chase.

  She watched, now, waiting, glancing from one end of the street to the other. There, and there. Both targets. The two leaders of what remained of the human tribes. They would be hers, their names among the accolades that she would take on to the next world. Such names would be powerful, and guarantee her a high place of honor among her ancestors, maybe even the greatest place, for none of her kin could have killed the only two remaining leaders of mankind in one swift strike.

  With her entire legacy at stake, Ruk began to prepare.

  Chapter 39

  “Loose!” shouted Jonah as he took a single step sideways.

  The nearest alleyway was twenty yards away. He glanced in that direction, checking that several warriors had blocked the way through to the warren of alleyways, and none of the Valk or Cygoa approached from between the buildings. He had ensured that guards had been left at every alley along the street, even while they moved swiftly into position. These small groups of rear guards were to alert them of any counter—attacks that may come, but the lack of movement between the buildings now made Jonah frown.

  The Valk have withdrawn, he thought. They pushed us into the middle of the city and now they withdraw to fight the Cygoa who are still pushing their way down the wide street. The gap had closed to maybe eighty yards between the back of the Valk horde and his archers. The sheer number of warriors in the battle ahead was daunting, and he knew that this wasn’t all of it. The battle was certainly furious, and the numbers involved were large. The fighting had probably spilled into other streets but he could not tell without leaving, without taking another path and risking separating himself from the main force.

  Jonah thought of his father, his wife, his children. It seemed as though his past and his present had melded together with only a blood—red future ahead. The Cygoa had come down from the north. The Valk had come up from the tunnels below. And all of those forces had converged on his clans. It was quite possible that the Elk line would end here, that the clan would be forever purged from the planet and become another lost tribe in a lost world. But he couldn’t let his imagination get the best of him. Lives depended on Jonah’s ability to lead the warriors to victory and that was what he would do. He shifted his thoughts back to the present.

  If they stuck together and the rear guards kept alert, everything should be fine so long as they remained ready to move. If an attack came, and it hadn’t yet, there was a direct path back to the barricade. But there had been no movement along the alleyways that came off the street, only the furious battle ahead of them.

  He turned his attention to the flight of arrows, nearly a hundred of them swept into the sky and rained down upon the battle. There was no selective targeting involved here, the archers had been instructed only to fire at a distance that would give them the best chances of hitting anyone. It didn’t matter which side lost warriors, so long as warriors fell.

  The result appeared to be devastating. Dozens of warriors in the battle line fell on both sides as the arrows swept in from the sky. The archers reloaded, notching more arrows and aiming their bows at the sky, waiting for his command to come again.

  “Loose,” he said again, and another flight took to the skies to thunder down upon the battle ahead.

  Jonah nodded at the fallen warriors and smiled. “Fire at will.”

  Those first two flights had been to judge the impact of the attack, and he was more than surprised to find that neither side of the conflict broke away from the battle, at least not yet. The fact that a third entity had entered the conflict had not changed their strategy, and that meant that he may be in a position to turn the tide of this war greatly to the clans’ advantage. Already he estimated a hundred or more had fallen, and now the arrows rained down on them in a constant hail.

  Jonah watched the battle. It seemed that mostly the Valk had been killed, and they were the closest to him, but many of the arrows flew further past the row of black armored warriors and pierced the Cygoa lines.

  Few missed. So many warriors had engaged in the fight that it was difficult for any of the archers to miss.

  Arrow after arrow came down, until finally, the flurry started to thin out as his archers used up the last of their arrows. Then he saw a change in the battle lines, and watched as the Cygoa broke the Valk line and surged forward, rolling easily over the remains of the Valk army.

  “Retreat!” Jonah screamed. “Back to the wall!”

  Most of the warriors turned and ran immediately, but Jonah stood there for a moment and watched as the Valk continued to fall. The few remaining stood no chance against the overpowering numbers of Cygoa, many warriors behind the front few rows, filling the street almost all the way back to the destroyed barricades.

  There was still far too many of them.

  “Come on, Jonah,” said Ghafir.

  Jonah spun around, seeing his friend just feet away. Most of the warriors were ahead, hurrying back to the barricades. Ghafir grabbed Jonah’s shoulder and pushed him forward. The two men jogged toward the open gates. As Jonah passed, the guards at each alleyway peeled off and joined them.

  “Do we have enough shields?” Jonah heard Rav shouting, as he hurried through the main gate which was already screeching to a close.

  Rav stood near the entrance and Jonah saw a stream of warriors hurrying across the plaza with large plates of metal or wood, each big enough for a man to hide behind.

  Jonah turned as he entered the clearing, racing up the nearest steps and up onto the barricade. Solomon stood vigil in the middle of the walkway, staring out along with the street. Jonah followed his gaze. The Cygoa had reorganized, and now advanced toward the defenses. Those same huge, heavy shields they had used at the battle of the causeway now lined the entire street.

  “How many arrows do we have in reserve?” Jonah asked.

  “Few,” said Solomon. “We’re mostly spent.”

  “Damn it,” said Jonah. “Spread the word. Everyone’s to grab a shield and get under cover.”

  He
turned back to the road and faced the oncoming line of Cygoa warriors. Jonah watched as the wall of shields slowly approached until it came within fifty yards of the wall and stopped, the massive shields slamming to the ground, kicking up dust in all directions.

  Near silence fell upon the battlefield. Jonah waited.

  Then the arrows came, flying from the ranks behind the Cygoa. A huge mass of screaming darts plunged down into their defenses. Jonah crouched behind Solomon’s shield as arrows thudded into the wall. A few men fell, crying out with pain, struck by stray arrows even behind shields.

  Still too many, Jonah thought. He had no idea how many arrows the Cygoa had or how many of the enemy waited behind those shields. He glanced at the other sections of the defensive wall around the plaza. They had been manned, but none of them had come under attack. The main offensive came from the front, from one direction — the main gate. All the Cygoa in the world seemed to be gathered ahead of him.

  Should have kept some more arrows back, he thought. “Stay down!”

  Nobody moved. They waited for the next flight of arrows but it didn’t come. Instead, Jonah peered over the wall and saw that a gap had appeared in the center of the shields, a tall figure stepping through, a man that Jonah had never seen before.

  He wore heavy armor, a full suit of what he had heard was called chainmail. But on top of that the man wore metal plates across his chest, shoulders, and knees. He wore a helm of solid metal with a large spike crest upon the front. The figure strode forward until he stood twenty feet from the safety of the Cygoa shield wall.

  “I call upon Jonah!” the figure bellowed.

  Jonah waited for a moment, then began to rise.

  “Don’t,” said Solomon.