Rise of the TaiGethen e-2

by James Barclay

  The sound of castings froze her to her very core. A roaring and whistling sound, wrapped in endless rolls of thunder. The heat grew quickly and bright blue light cast them into a deep shadow behind the wall. The castings slammed into the gatehouse, the walls, and flew high overhead to land in the city.

  Ten paces away, the top of the wall was blasted to rubble. Fire burst through, shattering the rampart and engulfing helpless defenders. Burning elves were hurled onto the street, thrashing and screaming as they fell. The wall shuddered under impact after impact and an ice casting landed right below them. She heard metal grind and protest and rivets pop. She heard stone blasted to dust.

  Fire orbs detonated on the gatehouse roof. One flew straight through the opening where Pelyn had been standing and blasted through the open back of the gatehouse to splash against the main street. A second burst against the edge of the gatehouse wall, which held but the fire sprayed inside. She heard shrieks and saw elves slapping at themselves and diving off the platform, desperate to escape the flames that ate at their clothes and flesh.

  Jio clung to her, all pretence at being TaiGethen gone. They watched fire orbs falling on their city. Harine the baker’s house blew apart under a direct hit. An orb scorched across the rooftops of five houses in a tight knot in the Ixii ghetto, setting all to flame. A third dropped onto the Second Courthouse’s balcony, splintering it and rolling inside, where the flames blew shutters open and scattered papers into the air to burn to ash in a heartbeat.

  There was a moment’s pause. Jio tried to stand but Nerille clung to him.

  ‘Wait. There’s more.’

  The air chilled and the sky above them filled with blocks of ice the size of barrows. Spinning fast and freezing the air around them, they flew high and deep into the city, their momentum carrying them far further than any orb could travel.

  ‘Tual’s balls,’ breathed Jio. ‘Clear! Get clear!’

  His shouts were useless. The ice began to fall right in the heart of the city. It smashed the spire from the temple of Ix. The temple of Yniss’ roof collapsed under a trio of direct hits. Tens, hundreds of the ice boulders crashed down among thousands of Katurans who had thought they were far enough from the walls to be safe. One even landed on the steps of the makeshift stores. Nerille gasped. The quartermaster would have been standing there. He must have seen it coming all the way. She prayed he had found shelter in time.

  The barrage lessened. Shouts for stretchers and fire teams echoed about the empty streets. Elves broke from their hiding places. The orbs had done terrible damage. Fire now leapt from house to house, business to business, the magical flames travelling with the speed of a jao deer.

  Jio stood and Nerille stood with him. They looked down. Steel plate hung from broken fastenings. Stone was scattered about the base of the walls. The gatehouse was empty and on fire inside. There was no sign of Pelyn or the elves who had stood with her.

  ‘Casting!’

  They dropped from sight again. Jio was shivering, clutching at his pendant.

  ‘How long can they keep this up?’

  ‘Not long enough,’ said Nerille. ‘Have courage, Jio. The TaiGethen are with us. They fear nothing and each of them is worth a hundred humans. I have to get back to the stores and see what I can do.’

  ‘No,’ said Jio. ‘You saw the strike on the steps. You could be killed.’

  ‘I’m safer on the walls, am I?’ Nerille smiled and kissed Jio’s cheek. ‘Worry about yourself. Don’t take any chances.’

  Nerille made for the nearest ladder and climbed down into the city. Overhead, the castings came in again. Fire and ice rained down on the city. She pressed herself against the walls, which suffered no fresh impacts. Mages clustered up in the sky, spotting fresh targets and directing the barrage. She cursed them and prayed to Gyal for rain and mist to give them some respite. But the day was hot and the clouds distant. Even Gyal was in hiding.

  Nerille looked to her right. A body lay at the base of the gatehouse. It was moving, the cloak smouldering but not aflame. It was Pelyn, it had to be. Nerille hurried along the street, staying close to the wall. An orb seared the air overhead and plunged into a potter’s workshop, blowing timbers and splinters in all directions when it hit.

  Nerille felt a splinter cut her cheek. She turned her head away and crouched, trying to protect herself while she moved. Pelyn pushed herself to her knees and used the gates to pull herself to her feet. Nerille reached her and offered a steadying hand. The elf’s face was black with ash and red with burns, but the fire in her eyes was brighter than any fire orb.

  ‘Good, you survived the first wave,’ said Pelyn.

  ‘You too. The centre of the city has been hit. They need help.’

  Pelyn nodded. ‘Let’s go. Stay to the walls, use the cover. This bombardment isn’t going to stop any time soon.’

  The gatehouse blazed above them. Fire teams were speeding from cover, trying to douse the magical flames and risking death as they did. More spells soared overhead, spreading their destruction across Katura. Nerille and Pelyn headed inwards, where the city meant as a sanctuary had been turned to ash and ice.

  Hynd stood by Lockesh, relaying his orders. The initial volleys had produced good results. Spotter mages reported considerable damage and panic in the city and it was clear the armour on the walls was weak in a number of places. All they had to do was hit the right spots and they’d destroy it.

  Killith strode up and down the rear of the lines, urging greater effort. Soldiers itched to fight, sensing the Sharps’ will already beginning to weaken. Fifteen hundred men and mages waited, ready to begin the assault across the western ground. Despite Jeral’s concerns before he was arrested, Killith considered it to be the best approach in concert with an attempt to take the gates.

  But for now the focus was on softening up the city. Nothing drained defenders’ will more than seeing those they were tasked to protect being slaughtered while they stood helpless. And the TaiGethen on the walls were helpless. There were too few of them to mount a raid over the open ground and, for all their speed, they were still vulnerable to magic.

  The late Loreb would, it seemed, get his swift victory.

  Hynd sampled the mana flow once more while he watched the penultimate volley of spells cast by the first wave of mages arc over the walls and down into the city. It was as strong and sure as ever, but he knew that when he was asked to cast, his nerves would wreak havoc with his concentration.

  ‘First wave! Prepare to withdraw and rest,’ called Lockesh. Hynd relayed the order. ‘Second wave stand ready!’

  Killith marched over.

  ‘We must push over the western ground now,’ Killith demanded. ‘Drive our advantage home and caution be damned. We are winning. I want my victory feast tonight and to sleep in an elven bed having taken my fill of elven whores.’

  ‘Scout the ground first. The TaiGethen remain dangerous,’ said Lockesh.

  ‘The TaiGethen are all occupied, cowering on the walls,’ said Killith, jabbing a finger towards the city. The first wave’s final spells hissed away. ‘I am the senior general here and I want victory before the su-’

  ‘You are the only general here,’ said Lockesh with a hiss to still his flapping tongue. Where is Pindock, exactly?’

  ‘The order will be given. Your mages will support me.’

  Lockesh stared blankly at Killith. ‘As you wish, General.’

  Killith stalked away, summoning his aides. Orders were barked out. The column began to move towards the west. Hynd watched them go.

  ‘Your orders, my lord?’ he asked.

  ‘The second wave is to concentrate on the gates and that western corner. See if they can’t land a few fire orbs on that wooden western wall too. The reserve is to clear the ground west. I don’t want anything surprising us in the grass and I don’t want a single tree left standing for the TaiGethen to hide behind.’

  ‘You think they will be lying in wait there?’ asked Hynd. He gestured to the walls.
‘Surely-’

  ‘There are rather a lot of them up there, don’t you think? said Lockesh. ‘I refuse to believe they are all the genuine article.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Two more things, Hynd’

  Hynd paused in the very act of turning. ‘Yes, my lord?’

  ‘Jeral shoud be released and brought to me. The charges against him died with Loreb and he should be seen watching Killith prove him right about that western ground. And secondly-’ Lockesh pointed to the head of the cliffs overlooking the western ground ‘-I think we need a lookout or two up there. See to it. Four mages, two warriors.’

  ‘At once,’ said Hynd.

  He stared up at the cliffs, which looked treacherous and uneven, then turned away to relay Lockesh’s orders and to find some unwitting suspects to fly up and see the world from on high.

  Auum watched the enemy’s advance from the first of the trees that clustered before open farmland in the lee of the cliffs. He glanced up. There was a single TaiGethen up there along with forty Katurans, waiting for the signal to send down enough rock to sweep away half the city walls, should their momentum carry them that far.

  A fresh wave of castings began to fall on the western corner of the city walls. The armour was thicker here and the stone cemented firmly into place. Ice boulders dashed themselves to pieces against the plating, making it ripple. Fire orbs deluged it with heat, the dramatic changes in temperature causing it to groan in protest. So far, it held.

  All of the TaiGethen were with him along with twenty of the fifty hunters armed with poison arrows on the walls to his right, and thirty Al-Arynaar led by Tulan and Ephram. The warriors were hidden by the trees, and all knew what they had to achieve. Auum waited for the right moment, assessing the closing distance and speed.

  ‘They will drop castings here,’ he said. ‘Be ready to fall back on my word. Get close to their swords and keep falling back to bring them beneath the avalanche zone. You know your markers. Don’t lag because we cannot wait for anyone. Stand by.’

  The enemy paused. Soldiers knelt while mages prepared.

  ‘Hold,’ said Auum. ‘Cover!’

  They all ducked behind the wide boles of the trees Beeth provided. Auum felt the heat of approaching castings. The ground vibrated with multiple impacts which scorched and ruined the farmland between the trees and the walls. Orbs were landing not twenty paces from them at the corner of the walls. Auum tensed.

  ‘You have to get under their arcs,’ said Auum. ‘Don’t give them the chance to adjust their aim.’

  Satisfied with the destruction, the enemy moved forward again. Auum counted fifty paces before they stopped, bringing them to within a hundred yards of the walls and the edge of the burned ground. Spells ceased to fall on the walls for fear of striking their own.

  ‘Stand by,’ said Auum.

  The human mages opened their hands to cast.

  ‘Break!’

  TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar stormed from cover, running hard across the still-burning ground, their feet kissing ember, ash and flame. Tulan led the Al-Arynaar down the centre. TaiGethen flanked them, meaning to break around the sword line and get at the mages if they could.

  Auum held himself in check, keeping pace with Ulysan and Faleen’s cell on one side and those of Merke and Quillar on the other. They moved to the enemy’s right flank as spells roared overhead. Auum ducked, hearing a splintering impact among the trees. It was followed by dozens more.

  He saw bows bristle behind the front line. No warning was necessary. Elven warriors broke formation, scattering wide, crouching low and angling their runs. A volley sped towards them. Auum ducked a shaft, and heard one thud home. An Al-Arynaar tumbled to the ground near him, clutching his thigh.

  The enemy soldiers stood.

  ‘Jaqrui!’ called Auum. ‘Away!’

  Crescent blades wailed across the lessening space, bouncing harmlessly from magical shields, though they still made every soldier within the volley’s arc throw his arms up to defend himself. Moments later, the elven line crashed against them.

  Auum beat one blade into a soldier’s gut and hacked his other down onto another’s helm, knocking him cold. Ulysan and Faleen filled in around him. Ulysan’s hands, quick as ever, flattened the nose of his target and tore out his throat. Faleen’s feet swept the legs from under her enemy and her blade pierced his heart.

  To Auum’s left, the Al-Arynaar moved in. Moving with less speed and more power, they found a wall of capable swordsmen in front of them. Tulan called for the elves to hold firm and the Al-Arynaar closed ranks. Blows were exchanged. Human voices called orders and the enemy’s flanks began to move in.

  ‘Good,’ said Auum. ‘TaiGethen, flow!’

  Merrat picked up his cry. The TaiGethen spread across the face of the army, each warrior looking only to himself. Ulysan shouldered into his target and drove a blade into his gut. Faleen jumped, kicked out left and right, landed and roundhoused a dazed human, sending him clattering sideways into his comrades.

  Auum laced cuts into his opponent. The man was quick, fending off most, his body agile, weaving aside. Auum accorded him a mote of respect. He feinted to strike high but instead dropped to his haunches and drove in low. The man was too slow. Auum’s blade slid into his groin and blood gushed from the wound.

  Auum bounced back to his feet as a soldier unleashed a powerful overhead blow. Auum stepped left and sliced a cut deep into his neck. He dragged the sword clear, glanced left. The Al-Arynaar had stalled. He saw two fall as he watched.

  ‘Lacking sharpness,’ he muttered. ‘Fall back three!’

  Across the line elves pulled back, dropping three paces from the enemy, who surged after them. Auum fenced with a strong, lean man, his twin blades frustrating his opponent. Auum let him come on.

  ‘Rolling back!’ called Auum. ‘Bring them on!’

  Spells careered over their heads again, battering into the trees and splashing against the wooden walls, setting them aflame. Orders rang out across the enemy line and they pushed harder, their commander seeing victory in his strength of numbers.

  Steadily, the elven fighters moved back. The corner of the city walls was thirty paces behind them. The human flanks pushed on and the poison archers stood ready. Arrows flashed across the open space… but not one pierced the magical shield.

  Spells roared out in response, volley after volley hammering into the walls. The ranks of soldiers broke and reformed, pushing down hard on their right flank, coming closer and closer to the cliff. Auum smiled.

  ‘Break!’ he yelled.

  He turned and ran for the blackened and burning trees, too fast to give the archers or mages a target. The humans chased after them. Auum glanced skywards in time to see two mage pairs fly high towards the head of the cliff, a warrior hanging between each pair.

  ‘I hope you’ve seen them, Dimuund,’ said Auum. ‘Don’t let me down.’

  Auum turned again, seeing his people moving calmly back to cover, their retreat looking for all the world like a withdrawal to the city. He hurled a jaqrui at the enemy, trying to keep them on their guard, stop them from thinking too clearly. The TaiGethen followed suit.

  ‘Eyes on me,’ Auum called. ‘We’re nearly there.’

  Chapter 34

  Humans consider themselves superior yet they cannot distinguish between the approach of a jao deer and a ClawBound pair. They have no empathy with the world that surrounds them, making them inferior to the simplest of Tual’s creatures.

  Auum, Arch of the TaiGethen

  Dimuund watched the battle from the crumbling cliff edge. He was afforded an unparalleled view of the battlefield and the city below and winced every time a casting wrecked another building, tore through a fire team or splashed flame across an open space. They were losing the battle.

  Down in front of the city mages pounded the gates, which, with their thicker steel, were holding, but the walls to either side were beginning to give way. Stone had been blown out in patches twenty y
ards wide and behind them only wood remained.

  Below, on the western ground, he saw Auum lead the TaiGethen in and watched the Arch’s precision and the Al-Arynaar’s power. The enemy mages continued to target the western wall. He saw the humans regroup exactly as Auum had predicted they would and move steadily towards his target zone.

  ‘Get ready,’ he said.

  His forty Katurans picked up their hammers, iron staves and thick logs, ready to beat away the chock stones holding the boulders in place and then lever them over the edge. There had been no practice, there couldn’t be. Dimuund had to trust the design would work because there would be no second chances.

  A movement caught his eye. He glanced to his left. Enemies were heading their way. Mages carrying warriors were climbing fast in the shelter of the cliff a couple of hundred yards from him.

  ‘Cover!’ he called. ‘Use the stones.’

  Dimuund waved them all in, watching them scramble and slither over the flat stone that bordered the cliff before the forest took over once more. He doubted they could all reach adequate cover; there simply wasn’t enough of it. And as soon as they reached the cliff top, the enemy would see what was going on.

  Dimuund looked down over the edge. The attackers hadn’t reached the trigger point yet. The TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were still directly in the boulders’ path and it would be a count of a hundred until they were clear. That was about seventy too many.

  ‘Dammit,’ he breathed.

  He moved along the line of boulders, crouching by the last one, his right foot hanging over the edge of the cliff. The enemy mages crested the cliff sixty paces from him. They flew high, high enough to see their foe and the death they were set to unleash on the army below. Dimuund heard them shout to each other and they dropped towards the ground. Both warriors and three mages landed. The fourth flashed away back over the edge and down to give warning.