by Vance Moore
Lieutenant Kirtar maneuvered on the rooftops as well, ceding the ground to the invaders from the forests and seas. Kamahl could see city guardsmen coming up other streets from his four-story vantage point. The dragon was clawing down brick and timber over the cephalids and the remaining crabs. The sea fighters scrabbled to get clear as the monster tried to bury them. Another barrage of bolts sputtered and arced, but the huge beast seemed to not notice the pain. It hopped from foot to foot, crushing the cabs.
Kirtar was a fountain of energy as he crossed the roofs. The Order champion's attack slammed into the giant creature's hip, tunneling its way to the bone. With a crack audible throughout the street, a joint gave way, and the creature's rearmost leg spasmed and dragged. The giant tried to breathe more fog, but only a few wisps came out. It tried to back out into the square as everyone closed for the kill.
Kamahl was accelerating as he jumped to the final roof and conjured another weapon in his free hand. He hurled the axe at the creature's side, aiming for the thickest remaining patch of the beast's thorny armor. He was in the air in a long leap when it exploded, devouring a broad swath of the deadly vegetation in a wave of flame. The barbarian's sword smashed into a mound of muscle as his jump landed him on the beast's side. His plunging sword burned a deep wound, and the dragon screamed again. The giant tried to scrape the mountain warrior off against a building, inflicting even more damage to itself in an instinctive response to the attack.
Kamahl levered himself up and over the rise of the animal's spine, his sword and an axe acting as pitons. The rumble of cascading rubble drowned out the barbarian's angry cry as a barbed tendril of the creature's remaining armor sank its thorns into the fighter's thigh. One hand held his buried sword as the other tore the vine free. Below him, the beast heaved and pitched as the warrior cupped his hand and drew flame into the world. He clasped the summoned fire against the wound, hissing at the pain. A wave of cold swept his body as his flesh tried to shrug off the burn. As he lay panting, the mer forces attacked again.
Soft-bodied sea warriors raised their spear guns, discharging magical projectiles to little effect. The dragon's head dipped, and its claws scrabbled, tearing apart some of its tormenters. The mer eeled their way into mounds of rubble, and others suctioned their way up the outsides of buildings. The forest creature took advantage of the ascending invaders and snapped them down from the buildings. Even as it devoured its foes, the crabs made a run for its flanks. Though most died under the dragon's heavy stomps, some scuttled under the massive frame, and now giant claws nipped at the injured leg and tail.
The barbarian saw the crustacean warriors moving wildly below, their claws shearing at the huge tendons. The middle leg on the left collapsed, and Kamahl jumped for safety as the animal went down, rolling to crush the sea fighters. The mountain mage's sword lashed into a building wall, and the pull of gravity dragged the steel down. The power of the blade left a trail of smoking brick as Kamahl arrested his slide. As he slowed, he pulled the weapon free and fell the remaining distance to the street. His leg protested, but he ignored the shallow wounds. The back of the beast lay toward him, and he could see the street coming apart under its pounding mass. He closed with the downed beast.
Lieutenant Kirtar called for all forces to finish the monster. A mer fighter finally showed some marksmanship and shot a charged spear beneath an armored eyelid. A shower of ocular fluid soaked the fallen grasses, pouring from the empty socket as it writhed. The few remaining crabs began to climb the body.
The barbarian watched the cephalids retreat back to their pools, then he could see only the monster. It filled his vision as it tried to rise to its feet. Kamahl raised his sword and plunged it near the spine. The beast somehow got its legs under its bulk, and the barbarian was nearly catapulted free. Only his grip on his sword allowed him to stay with the monster. The dragon was stumbling away from the arena and up the street, headed for the sea fighters and their pools. The crabs tried to climb the slack tail, but they failed as the giant swayed from side to side. The beast was killing the warriors almost by accident as it crushed both hard-shelled and soft-bodied fighters from the sea against the broken bricks of Cabal City.
Kirtar stood opposite Kamahl on a building roof, surefooted despite the slope of the crumbling structure. The barbarian saw a predatory grin as the aven unleashed another flight of his conjured birds. The mountain warrior swore and breathed out a cage of flame, concentrating even as his uncontrolled mount tottered beneath him. The golden sparrows swooped down and swept over the great reptile, their wings of light shaving away the remains of the dragon's thorny armor before rising to the sky. The spell wrought creatures threw themselves as living knives at the beast's head, vanishing in concussive bursts that carved away hide.
Determined to get the kill, Kamahl forced power into the long blade of his sword. Inside the monster a scalpel of flame cut its way to the backbone. Massive vertebrae parted as the barbarian's will sought out the thick cable of armored nerves. New magic impacted on the dragon's flanks, but Kamahl was locked in directing his final attack. Bone and nerve sundered under Kamahl's lethal surgery, parting the spinal cord and killing the beast.
The mountain warrior turned to jump clear, but he was crushed against the beast's back as a huge crab came from the rear in a wild rush. A crustacean had finally managed to climb the dragging tail, and now its vain attack only put the barbarian at risk. Kamahl was bowled over and barely avoided the huge claws, which clutched for something to hold on to.
The dragon fell and the barbarian could hear Kirtar shrieking victory. New attacks impacted against the already dead flesh as additional surges of magic burrowed into the slowly collapsing corpse. Fighters left off their attacks, running for their lives as tons of flesh gave up life.
The barbarian snarled, trapped under the crustacean. He forced his way through legs, the spindly limbs landing like clubs as the mer fighter panicked, and the pair began to fall free. The barbarian and crab were directly under the beast and both bolted for the closest bit of clear sky, trying to race under the beast as the wall of descending flesh loomed over them. But the panicked crab yanked the barbarian back, its claws gripping his armored belt as it tried to pull itself to safety. It only doomed them both. Pressure threatened to smash Kamahl like a bug, and his breath exploded out his mouth. Pain flared all over his body, and he fell into darkness, his senses fading as blackness smothered all.
CHAPTER 7
The stench of burned flesh and destruction was sweet in Kirtar's nostrils. The aroma was nectar the bird warrior savored as he stood with his eyes closed. The crackle of fires soothed his hot blood, the destruction of the Cabal structures an unexpected benefit. The beast had torn a great wound in the city's fabric and like draining blood, the citizens flowed into the streets. The attack had caught him deep in the arena, and it had taken precious minutes to force his way through the crowds. The plaza had been a madhouse, bleeding guardsmen forming defenses to manage the crowds. With his warriors still lost in the clearing stands, the lieutenant took control, instilling order into the fleeing cowards, clearing the way for the coming battle. True, he was forced into a tactical retreat and the sudden arrival of the mer empire forces turned the contest. But it was his own blow that laid the beast low when all was finally done.
The bleating of the wounded irritated him, and he directed those of his order with healing skills to ply their trade among the injured. He pointed to the mer forces to receive healing first. The monsters of the deep at least were brave fighters and far more worthy of aid than the corrupt gamblers of the city. The lieutenant moved down to the street level as he saw his orders being relayed. The few Cabal officers he saw looked thoroughly cowed, and none disputed his authority.
"This is the natural order of things," he whispered to himself.
The crabs dragged away the corpses of their dead, despite the Cabal servants' furtive attempts to secure the bodies for the city's use. The crustaceans sorted through the rubble, their i
mmense strength allowing them to move all but the largest beams. The exposed corpses not from the mer realm were discarded on the rubble piles to be snared by guardsmen. Kirtar made a note to have his own forces collect their dead in Cabal territory.
A centaur staggered to the street, the simian face visible over the high grass. He started toward the Order officer, carefully trying to find a clear path. Kirtar's mystic senses detected a change in magic. The arena defenses, still unbreached, were coming down. Servitors slowly walked toward the growth obstructing the streets holding staves. One took the lead and his staff of black wood and iron passed among the stalks. The plants withered into brittle husks as the lieutenant watched. The other Cabal reinforcements joined in.
"Ware the street cleaners," the champion called out with derision. A few of the workers bristled but none chal-lenged his appraisal. Kirtar expected nothing more from such cravens.
"Lieutenant," called the centaur, moving into the cleared street, barely avoiding a "mistaken" swing of a withering staff wielded by an angry guardsman. The centaur bared his fangs and shook the huge club that he used as a walking stick.
Kirtar recognized him as the fighter allied with the bar-barian. The injuries he had sustained appeared half-healed, and the officer assumed that was the reason the forest fighter had not joined in the battle. He confessed to himself that the warrior, Kamahl, had at least shown rash courage during the fight.
"What is it?" he asked. Then trying to explain his short-ness, he continued, "As you can see there is much to be done, and our hosts seem incapable of doing it." Kirtar ignored the efforts of the Cabal to clear the streets and the stream of carts arriving to haul away the rubble.
"The beast was a Krosan dragon," the centaur said. "It is found only in the forests of the far northwest." At the signs of the bird warrior's exasperation with the lesson, Seton made his point. "It has absolutely no business being here. Something is wrong, and this attack could be only the sign of greater troubles."
"I appreciate the information, sir," Kirtar said, speaking with excessive courtesy, "but what am I to do?" He waved to the destruction caused by the single beast. "How does the destruction of a pit like this concern the Order?"
"For the dragon to appear this far east, the reverberations of whatever is disturbing the forest must cover leagues." Seton explained, his voice showing offense. "As an officer in the Order, sworn to protect the Northern Reaches and hoping to extend your authority south, I thought you would be grateful for the insight. Excuse me if I misunderstood your seriousness." With that the centaur moved away, the haft of his granite-capped club beating a tune of anger on the cobblestones.
Shaking his head at the vagaries of forest warriors, Kirtar turned back to supervision. But there was little to do, as an army of Cabal workers fell to work in concert with the remaining crabs.
"Of course they are ready now," the lieutenant mumbled to himself. More movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Laquatus, the mer ambassador, and Turg, his amphibian champion, coming from the arena. The frog moved slowly, and his eyes were glassy. Kirtar had not paid attention to the arena match and wondered if Turg was injured. The frog squatted on his heels, slowly rocking from side to side as the ambassador came forward.
"Congratulations on your brilliant victory," the merman hailed. Laquatus gave a short bow that good manners demanded the lieutenant return. "The beast would have surely destroyed the city if not for your quick action." The ambassador looked pained as he said it, and Kirtar felt obligated to inquire.
"Did you take injuries during the battle?" The lieutenant had seen nothing, but it must have been a madhouse inside.
"No, no," replied the merman. "The spells protecting the arena sealed me and my champion away from combat. Turg was trapped on the arena floor, and a few others and I were locked in a skybox during the actual attack. I fear the excitement was too much for my companions. In a fit of desperation they tried to leap free and perished in the fields protecting the audience from the arena floor." Laquatus looked quite distressed, reining his voice in with difficulty. "It's desperately sad. One of the deceased was an importer with some knowledge of the attacking beast. He said it was a type of dragon that came in response to the beast my champion killed."
Kirtar frowned.
"A centaur told me that the beast never left the northwestern forests," the officer said. "He was quite convinced that such animals were never here. To come in response to a cry means either the animal was tracking the one killed or that it was in the general vicinity." Kirtar wondered if perhaps the centaur was on to something. There could be a continuing danger.
Another bird warrior flew through the air. The four in Kirtar's party had been killed, so this golden- winged fighter must be a messenger from the north. The lieutenant waved his arms to signal his presence, but the sharp-eyed flyer was already swooping down to him. The raypen folded his wings and shook the still settling dust off his feathers.
"Greeting to my First," intoned the raypen, its high tenor piping as it recited the message from memory. Messengers were specially trained to give messages word for word to prevent written orders from being intercepted. "There have been attacks of forest creatures all along the western borders of the high plains. You are to return north directly, collecting information and offering aid to those whom need it. The villages under the Order must be protected. If necessary you will stay and oversee the southern defense. We must find out what is happening. Pianna, Captain of the North."
Kirtar cursed the bad timing. Fighters from across the continent were here for the contest, and representatives of the other continental powers had arrived as well. Here was a chance to forge new alliances, and the Captain had just ordered him back to the barely civilized plains to protect scores of nameless villages. His huge hands clenched in anger, but he relaxed them with a conscious effort. The captain was head of the Order, and he must believe that she knew what she was doing. After all, he thought to himself, he didn't want to stay in this pit of a city anyway. There would be other chances to make his presence known. News of his victory would help convince others that the Order's direction was necessary for the common good.
"I am afraid I must leave directly," he said to the ambassador, waving the messenger toward the main camp. "I am sorry to miss the championship rounds, but I am sure Turg will triumph now that I will withdraw from the contests." He looked toward the amphibian, but he had vanished from sight. Looking for the frog brought the officer's gaze back to the sight of the mer forces diving into the pools, dragging their dead behind them.
"I was very surprised to see your soldiers streaming from the ground," he stated, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to the ambassador.
Laquatus seemed huge, his form giving off vibrations that seemed hypnotic. Kirtar could feel his pulse slowing as the violet eyes of the merman expanded to fill the world.
"But of course you knew of the soldiers under the city," a velvet voice insinuated. "They attacked at your orders, being already under your command. Don't you remember?" Kirtar fell into darkness ringed in purple as the ambassador took hold of his shoulders. •к "к "к "к "k
"I must therefore leave immediately for forest's edge." The words resounded in Kirtar's head, and he wondered who was saying them. It was with some surprise that he realized that he was the speaker. "This attack is but one of dozens that have issued from the west. The Order is the only force that can protect those villages without the walls and guardsmen of Cabal City," he said to the assembled city elders.
Kirtar stood on a rough platform against the arena, looking over the square. The fall of rubble punctuated his speech as work crews tried to clear the streets. The dragon that he had slain filled the street, and blood from the great corpse slowly drained into the storm gutters, the smell issuing from the sewers under the arena. The crowd of henchmen and ordinary citizen ignored the odor. Kirtar knew them to be used to such odors in this pit. He gritted his teeth in anger.
Why was he giving a speech to
the Cabal, he wondered savagely. The city was contemptible. Only the grave breach in civil order had convinced him to fight the dragon attack. Cabal City was a sour taste in his mouth. Only the sight of the mer ambassador, his invaluable advisor, prevented him spitting in contempt onto the arena square. He ignored the growing mutters at his long silence to regard Laquatus, his closest ally. The merman was the first to see the importance of uniting the continent of Otaria, saving its fragmented history.
The mer agreed it was long past time to impose order on the land. The underwater kingdom would lend arms to help the lieutenant pursue his dreams. The guards the ambassador put under his command proved invaluable in defeating the huge beast. It was the first and richest fruit of the inter-power alliance that the Order wished to form.
How lucky the ambassador had ferried his personal guard to the catacombs under the arena. Kirtar wondered at the expense of shifting so many water breathers. It was fortunate that the drowned caves had been available. Even though the forces proved effective, he still chuckled at the naivete of the ambassador. It showed the merman's inexperience with the dry land that he would bring water breathers as guards against land-bound dangers. After all, how many flooded caves could there be? He nodded to the ambassador, grateful for his support and resolved to do his best in protecting Laquatus from his own foolishness and inexperience.
The officials began clapping after long seconds, and the crowd belatedly joined in. The Master of the Games heaved his heavy bulk up to the podium beside the lieutenant. Kirtar dragged his attention back to the officials of the Cabal, despising them but determined to act politely for his ally's sake. The mer ambassador nodded approvingly, and the bird warrior felt a burst of pride at his own statesmanship.
