by Sam Bowring
Bel turned on his stone to consider his army. Brahl was in sight, just returned from the front, where he had set up with his officers. Bel could almost see the multiple strands of control radiating from the man, as if he stood at the centre of an enormous web. The troops answered to the troop leaders, who answered to the cerepans, under the control of the phalanx commanders, who reported to their respective gerents, all of whom reported directly to Brahl. And then a single strand from Brahl, over the grass to Bel.
His army.
Distant shouting met his ears. He turned back to the field, and leaped to his feet when he did not immediately see the mander. Then he spied it by the river – a break from its usual mindless loping up and down the same line. Maybe it had seen a fish it now wanted to destroy?
The shouts continued for a while, but Bel was unable to pinpoint their source. Eventually they died off, and the mander returned to its pacing.
‘Blade Bel?’
Bel glanced about. ‘Ah, Gerent Brahl. How goes it?’
‘Quite well,’ said Brahl, sitting down at the dormant fireside. ‘Our mages have poured spells into the river, and we think we claimed quite a few lives before they worked out what was going on. So it will make any of them thinking about a nice cooling swim think twice.’
‘Good work,’ said Bel, as if it had been his idea.
‘No word yet from Fahren?’
‘Only to reiterate that he’s working on the problem and we should wait for him to arrive.’
‘I see,’ said Brahl. ‘Well, we shall continue to pick away at them, then. I’ve sent raiding parties circling around to the south, with orders to attack any likely targets bringing up the shadow’s rear.’
‘Excellent,’ said Bel.
‘I tell you, though,’ said Brahl, rising, ‘I look forward greatly to the end of that creature. Then we can have an honest advance.’
‘Soon enough,’ said Bel, hoping he wasn’t wrong.
As Brahl moved away, Bel grew bored again quickly. Where was Jaya? Even as he had the thought, she emerged from the army to make her way across the grass, her flame-red hair wetly slick down her back.
‘Gone for a bathe?’ said Bel.
‘Yes. Something you should attempt one of these days.’
‘Very funny.’
‘I wasn’t joking.’
Bel sighed. ‘Well, you try sitting out in the sun day after day and see how you smell.’
‘As I have said,’ remarked Jaya, ‘there are others who watch – enough of them for you to steal away to the river for a time. At the very least a man such as yourself should have no trouble ordering a tub hauled to him.’
‘True enough,’ acceded Bel. ‘Anything to break the monotony.’
‘Good,’ said Jaya, ‘because I have already organised it.’
Bel nodded. ‘And if you were at the river, did you happen to see the mages casting their spells?’
‘I didn’t. Had to go quite far upstream to get any privacy – damn soldiers everywhere.’
•
Slowly afternoon turned to evening. Querrus awoke, and relit the fire. A tub arrived, and a procession of servants carrying buckets to fill it. At Jaya’s insistence Bel got in for a scrub before they both retired to their tent, leaving Querrus to keep a lookout. Bel had to admit he felt better for being clean, and soon he was resting more peacefully than he had done in days. As he was teetering on the verge of sleep, he heard a cheeping from his pack. He rolled over to fish out the golden bird carving, and touch the scroll on its leg.
‘Hello Bel,’ came Fahren’s voice, sounding drained. ‘I have . . . well, I suppose you could call it good news, though it troubles me to call it that, and perhaps it will trouble you to hear. I am about to leave the Open Halls, and I have with me an old friend. There’s no easy way to say this . . . it is Elessa Lanclara.’
‘What?’ said Bel, sitting up and staring at the bird, as if it would answer him itself.
‘She has been . . . returned to us, by the will of Arkus, in a sense.’ Fahren’s sigh was audible in the steam. ‘Although it was my hand that raised her from the ground.’
‘Why?’ said Bel, still dumbfounded.
‘We need her,’ continued Fahren, as though responding to Bel’s question. ‘It is her legacy upon which the shadowmander is built. Only she has the power to end it.’
‘Does he mean she is . . . . undead?’ said Jaya with a shudder.
Bel frowned, experiencing an odd mix of emotions – he had never heard of anyone being resurrected in the name of the light, but on the other hand it was welcome news that there was a way to defeat the mander.
‘We will be travelling as quickly as we can,’ said Fahren. ‘I shall send another message when I have a better idea of our progress. Stay safe until we arrive, please.’
The steam hissed out. Bel stared at the bird for a moment longer, though he could barely see it in the dark of the tent, then placed it back inside his pack.
‘Strange tidings,’ he muttered, easing back down.
‘I thought we did not raise the dead?’ whispered Jaya.
‘No,’ said Bel. ‘We don’t. But, well . . . Fahren has always been so condemning of the practice that if he has allowed it, there must really be no other way.’
‘Well,’ said Jaya uncertainly, ‘it is a means to a very great end, I suppose.’
As Bel lay thinking about Elessa, he abandoned hope of a restful sleep – but he must have found it anyway, for sometime before dawn he was roused by Querrus’s excited voice just outside the tent.
‘Blade Bel! Blade Bel!’
‘What is it?’ he answered, sitting up to rub his eyes. By his side Jaya groaned and rolled over.
‘It moves!’ said Querrus.
In a flash Bel was wide awake, another and he was outside the tent. It was still night, with maybe just a touch of lightening in the north. As he searched the field for the darker patch that would delineate the mander, he could not see it anywhere.
‘When?’
‘Just now,’ said Querrus, leading Taritha over. ‘Away to the west, over the river – moving very fast indeed.’
‘Then we shall have to be very fast too,’ said Bel, swinging onto Taritha and reaching down to haul the mage up behind him.
Jaya poked her head out of the tent. ‘Can I do anything?’
‘Inform Brahl,’ said Bel, and slapped the reins down hard. As Querrus channelled power into Taritha, she lurched underneath them, picking up pace quickly.
‘Much as you can!’ called Bel.
They angled towards the bridge that lay across the river halfway between the two armies. There came shouts from the enemy as they were spotted, but they reached the bridge a moment later, sped across its fifty paces or so in a couple of breaths, and raced out onto the grassy plains on the other side.
‘Which way?’
Querrus paused, and for a horrible moment Bel thought he may not be able to sense where Losara had gone. Then he pointed.
‘Towards Ortem!’
‘Give it everything you have!’
Taritha all but flew across the ground, until the wind in Bel’s face was stinging his eyes. He forced them open, sweeping his gaze across the land before them. There, away in the distance, was a dark shape moving, ahead of which sped two smaller ones.
‘He is powering a horse while he flies along after,’ said Querrus. ‘Would that all mages could fly as he does! But the division of his power may allow us to catch him.’
‘I don’t want to hear any of this “may”! If we cannot get ahead in time, the mander will make short work of Ortem.’
‘I am not as powerful as the Shadowdreamer, Blade Bel.’
‘Are you giving up?’
‘Blazes, no.’
�
�Then shut up and concentrate.’
Ahead they saw the lights of a village, and the shape that was the mander broke towards it. A moment later and Losara veered wide, forcing the mander to give the village a wide berth.
‘He dares not slow,’ said Bel. ‘He must know we’re here, and wants to get to Ortem first.’
‘Yes,’ said Querrus. ‘The capital of Tria is a more tempting target than a few farmers.’
‘We’re catching up!’ exclaimed Bel excitedly. It was true – gradually, along a parallel path, they were closing the distance to Losara. As the sun began to rise, it was easier to make out the strange party they chased. The First Slave rode upon a sleek black horse with Losara gliding behind, while the shadowmander variously trailed them, caught up, streaked ahead . . . yet always stayed within its range around Tyrellan.
Ortem appeared on the horizon, its buildings long ago spilt out from behind the old circular wall of the city proper. Its people would have no warning to draw back inside, and even if they did, the mander would follow.
‘He’s overshot the mark,’ said Bel. ‘We can still wedge ourselves between him and the city!’
Beneath him Taritha was coated with sweat, but to her credit she did not slow. Bel steered her towards Ortem while to the side Losara seemed to do the same, yet he could not quite approach at a direct angle without putting Bel inside the mander’s range – something Bel knew he would not do.
‘Bel!’ shouted Querrus warningly. A bolt of blue energy sped over the land towards them . . . no, not towards them, towards Taritha. Quickly Bel reined her in, and she slowed just a jot, enough so that the bolt passed just before her nose.
‘He’s trying to kill the horse!’ said Querrus, outraged.
Bel reached around his neck and pulled free the Stone, looping it around his wrist. With one hand he held it out, ready, while with the other he grasped the reins. Another bolt came, sizzling a brown streak in the grass as it flew close to the ground, and Bel held on tight with his legs as he leaned down to dangle the Stone in its path. The bolt was sucked up with a dull whoomph, and Bel felt the hairs on his knuckles burn.
‘And ahead!’ warned Querrus.
Before them, rents were appearing in the ground, earth cascading inwards.
‘Speed or safety?’ said Querrus.
‘Speed!’
Taritha leaped, and with her already great momentum, for a moment they seemed to fly. They landed with a jolt beyond the holes as several more energy bolts came rushing in. Bel made deft work of snatching them up into the Stone. As they drew closer to Losara, the mander raced towards them, hitting its limit only a few paces away. Taritha whinnied in fear, and Querrus whispered to her reassuringly. The mander hissed and snapped, though it was still too far away to reach them.
They arrived just outside Ortem, and drew up on the main road that ran up to the city gate. There were farms scattered about, and Bel watched helplessly as the mander tore away, to smash through the walls of a freestanding home and quickly silence the screaming inside. Then it moved on to the next one.
‘We have to get word to those people,’ said Querrus.
‘No,’ said Bel. ‘We must stay here.’
‘But –’
‘They will die,’ said Bel. ‘Better those few than a whole city.’
Over the plain, Losara had also come to a standstill. Across some half a league they watched each other, as between them the mander made short work of the scattered buildings and poor folk inside.
‘Thought you might sneak off in the night and put your creation to work, eh Losara?’ said Bel. ‘Thought you might casually fell a major city or two? Yet you find yourself in the same predicament as before – you cannot approach!’ He bared his teeth as though standing face to face with his counterpart. ‘What now, Losara?’
As if in answer, his other began to move again. Not quickly, but deliberately, circling the city widely. As he did, Bel moved Taritha to keep them between his counterpart and Ortem. At the northern side, again they stopped.
‘How does Taritha fare?’ asked Bel.
‘She’s fine,’ said Querrus. ‘Well rested and well fed. She could do this all day.’
‘Good,’ said Bel.
Losara suddenly broke away to the north.
‘Arkus!’ cried Bel. ‘He’s positioned himself ahead of us in terms of the next place.’
‘Fort Tria?’
‘Fort Tria,’ said Bel.
Again they were off, this time to the north, but Losara had a head start, and there weren’t the leagues they’d had previously to catch up.
‘Can you attack them?’ called Bel.
‘I doubt it would do any good!’ shouted back Querrus. ‘They are so far ahead, the dreamer would see my spells coming with plenty of time. It will only slow us if I do.’
‘Then,’ said Bel, ‘I see no other choice.’
There was adrenaline pumping through him already, but in the face of what he was about to try, it quickened. He began to sense a glimmer of the path, was glad for its presence – but then grew confused and irritated as it seemed to suggest a different direction, back east towards his army.
‘Useless,’ he muttered. Then came the terrifying thought that maybe a battle raged back there, now that nothing stood in the way of the two armies – but surely they would not commence without their leaders? And he was damned if he wasn’t going to try to stop Losara tearing down Fort Tria.
Hang you, path.
He urged Taritha on, no longer trying to catch up with Losara himself, but instead to drive himself right into the shadowmander’s territory.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Querrus.
‘Forcing his hand! If he fears that the mander will kill me, he must fall back!’
The mander was at the edge of its perimeter, dancing backwards to keep up with its anchor, almost comical if not for how murderously it stared at them. Beyond it, Tyrellan and Losara rode directly towards the grey walls of Fort Tria in the distance.
‘Can you send Losara a message?’ said Bel.
‘I can.’
‘Tell him we’re going to keep on coming straight, whether that puts us inside the mander’s range or not!’
They were almost upon the creature now, galloping full pelt.
‘Does he reply?’ said Bel.
‘No,’ said Querrus.
‘Very well, Losara. Prepare to be steered.’
Veering wildly, Bel sent Taritha dashing past the mander into its domain. It snapped at their heels and spun after, and Querrus dug his hand into Bel’s side even tighter.
‘If the horse has any reserves,’ called Bel, ‘now is the time!’
‘I don’t think this is a very good idea,’ wailed Querrus.
Taritha put on another burst of speed, but it was a fitful one and came in spurts. The shadowmander leaped and sailed past behind them, hitting the ground some way off and rolling to its feet in an instant.
‘Losara says pull back!’ said Querrus. ‘The mander will kill you both!’
‘Tell him I’m not heading anywhere but Fort Tria!’ said Bel. ‘It is his course that must change!’
The mander ran ahead of them, turned, and prepared to leap again. As its feet left the ground, Bel urged Taritha directly towards it.
‘Heads down!’ he shouted, and they ducked as the mander went flying over.
‘Look!’ said Querrus.
The two shapes ahead were now moving to the left, away from Fort Tria. The mander hissed angrily as it was suddenly pulled away, once again to a safe distance from Bel. They continued until they stood between the mander and the fort, still a league or two away. In the early morning there were lights showing in the windows, though not in great number – many of the fort’s inhabitants would have travelled already to join
the Kainordan army.
Not even a worthwhile target, Losara, thought Bel.
Out on the field Losara stopped, and set down on the grass next to Tyrellan. Elated, Bel lifted the Stone into the air and gave a roar.
‘Bel,’ said Querrus.
‘What?’
‘He just disappeared.’
Tyrellan was still standing there, little more than a smudge on his horse at this distance, while the mander ran madly about – but there was no Losara to be seen.
‘He’ll be here in a moment,’ said Bel, slipping the Stone back over his head.
Sure enough, from the grass, the Shadowdreamer erupted.
‘Well, well,’ said Bel, leaning forward on his saddle. ‘Thought we’d steal off and get in a couple of easy defeats, did we?’
Losara sighed. ‘What would be the point of that? Your army is the real problem, and after that, the Halls. Once those both fall, so will all else. Why would I attack some out-of-the-way city, or some empty fort of no strategic value?’
‘Was just wondering the same thing,’ scowled Bel, trying to retain his composure. ‘I assumed it was because you’re such a spiteful bastard.’
Losara smiled faintly. ‘Funny,’ he said. ‘You really don’t seem to know me at all.’ He waved a hand, and behind him Tyrellan and the mander faded away.
Querrus gasped. ‘Illusions,’ he said. ‘Curse me, I should have spotted them!’
‘Don’t fault yourself overmuch,’ said Losara. ‘I am a very powerful mage, after all.’
Bel couldn’t believe what he was seeing – or, rather, what he wasn’t seeing. ‘A trick,’ he muttered, his heart suddenly feeling like a stone beneath the Stone.
