Fallen Tiers

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  “Sordith…” she said with fear in her eyes.

  “I’ll be alright,” he assured her. “It only hurts when I breathe.”

  Instead of leaning, he scooted over to put his arms around her. He had no way to light a fire nor to keep her warm. She shivered in his arms from the cold and wet. As he sat there in the dim light, anger began to seethe within him. He had been betrayed. He was certain it was Luthian’s doing, but until he had proof, he should not act. Still, he would have retribution for those in the trench. He would find that proof, and whoever was responsible, he would personally ensure they felt every death and ounce of fear that the trench denizens had faced today.

  Water poured around them, and the wind howled across the openings in the rock, creating a musical edge to the violence above. Sordith kept Keelee close, watching the small river sink into the black cavern below them. He would have to come back here one day and see what was down there besides water. He kissed the top of Keelee’s head absently, murmuring reassurances. His last thought before sleep claimed him was envisioning the many ways he would exact payment from the murderers who sealed the trench, and those who ordered it done.

  Chapter Nine

  “RUN! WAVE!”

  Levielle felt the wave before he saw it. Tremors pulsed through the ground as it thundered into the harbor. The screams of people around him went unanswered. He could hear the shouts of those trapped on the other side, clawing at the wall, trying to climb for freedom.

  The mass of water swept through the first tier without hesitation, rushing through the city streets, consuming everything not bolted down. The grinding and scraping of material and the rumble of moving water had him watching in shock as it inundated the city’s lower levels. As he stood dumbfounded, his arm holding the hammer went slack, dropping the tool down to his side.

  He felt hands grabbing at his arm, snapping him back into the moment. The men that were with him pulled at him. He was hardly able to hear them above the noisy din of this storm.

  They ran as a group toward the nearest stonework building. They pounded at the door, shouting to be let in, clawing at the rough woodwork. Levielle, still carrying the hammer he had at the wall, moved to the front of the small group of men and gave the lock on the door a resounding blow. The door swung open.

  The home was dark and abandoned. He and the others quickly moved inside and barricaded the doorway, shoving whatever furniture the occupants had against it.

  But the door had barely been blockaded before the wave struck. The door was blown open by the mass of rushing water. Men and furniture swirled in the room as it quickly filled. One man was swept under the staircase and could not escape before the surge filled the room, the powerful force trapping him against the wall and drowning him.

  Levielle managed to catch the railing on the stairs to the upper level when the water began pouring into the room. He dropped the hammer and threw out his other hand. One by one the men caught his lifeline. The railing groaned, but thankfully held.

  “Quickly! Up the stairs!” His words could barely be heard above the rushing waters and driving rain.

  They all struggled to hold on and pull themselves up the stairs. The water continued to rise at an alarming rate. Levielle pulled men up and pushed them past him toward the upper floor.

  They splashed and scrambled their way up the stairs, wet boots against the smooth wood of the well-worn stairs caused them to slip and nearly fall through the railing and off the side into the ferocity of the swirling pool in the main room.

  Catching himself, Levielle clambered up behind them. A primal fear filled him as the rushing wall of water flowed, and only decades of training and discipline allowed him to keep an upper hand as he struggled up the stairs.

  By the time he reached the second floor, the men had already began scrambling up a ladder that led to the roof. The building groaned as the weight of the water threatened to take it from its foundation. The floor creaked as the pillars downstairs were being pounded by water and debris. Reaching the ladder at the heels of the men, there was shouting outside. Levielle couldn’t understand what was being said. Soon a loud thump greeted his ears as the roof itself gave way, water pouring in from a gaping hole and slickening the rungs of the ladder. The men above him began to pull themselves out.

  When it came his turn, Levielle gripped the top of the roof, but his hand slipped off of the slick tile. The rain and wind made it difficult to find purchase on the edge. Levielle cursed softly as he reached back up again, and this time a hand grasped his to help him up. Finally, he was out. Levielle clapped the man that assisted him on the back. Looking up he saw multiple weighted ropes being lowered down from the next tier. The first man was already being raised up when another rope coiled down. The wind fought them to pull the ropes away, but the weight seemed to help counter that.

  “Go! They’ll hoist you up, I’ll follow in a moment!” Levielle shouted over the din.

  The man nodded emphatically before beginning the relatively short ascent. Looking about finally, Levielle was horrified to see the devastation that had been caused by the first wave. From here he could see the debris on the first tier. Everything not nailed down, and much that was, had been wiped out by the force. Even as the wind whipped the surface into a froth, he could make out floating wood, cloth, food, and bodies – many, many bodies. He shuddered for a moment as he realized it could have been his fate too.

  The closed off ramps meant there were many souls who didn’t even get a chance to hide or escape from the trench. Those that might have managed to live through the first wave would most likely die in the successive waves – many nearly as powerful as the first – as the sea continued to heave and pound against the walled ramps. The trench inhabitants would likely all eventually be drowned by the ocean surf if they hadn’t already. Shaking his head, he focused back at the situation at hand.

  Levielle grasped the rope tightly and began to walk up the wall when his turn came. The wind howled and buffeted him against the wall as if warning him of the impending doom he was facing. He fought to keep hold, as the men above kept a firm grip on the coarse rope and worked hard to pull him up as quickly as possible. No one knew what the storm might throw at them next.

  Soon, the man above him was pulled over the edge onto the second tier, and not long after, Levielle emerged to a small round of applause. Exhaustion rolled over him as he crawled into a sitting position. Someone offered him water, which he took and drank thankfully. Even though the rain still fell in sheets, he needed that drink.

  A man helped him to his feet and assisted in moving him toward a covered building, out of the rain. As he stood inside, he could see that others had been saved. However, in his opinion the numbers of saved, compared to those lost, was paltry.

  “General…” A young soldier stood before him and saluted smartly.

  Levielle hadn’t noticed the man approach. He was so exhausted from his fight to escape he had not been paying attention. He shook the feeling off. He could not afford to be tired. He noted the rank of the man and the fact that he was soaked to the core.

  “Report, lieutenant.”

  “We are saving as many as we can, but it’s difficult. When the wave hit, it stopped our efforts.” His tone was sullen. “Some of my men did not survive.”

  The general had caught his breath and began to take command. “We’ve all lost people today, lieutenant.” Levielle placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Carry on; we need to save as many as we can. We need to move the survivors up to the training circle. Bring as much food as you can find. I don’t want to add starving to our challenges in keeping our residents safe.”

  The man nodded and saluted before moving to his tasks.

  Still soaked, Levielle found a nearby chair and sat down, his eyes heavy with the desire to sleep. Processing what he had seen already today, he was just glad Nakyra was home and out of harm’s way. The horror of what Luthian had managed to do terrified him. It was at that moment that he knew L
uthian had to die.

  *******************

  The rain was so heavy that the men usually posted outside the Blackguard caverns could not be seen. Alador scooped up Nemara and strode for the cave entrance. The wind was too strong now to try to get her up two tiers. She was dressed in the garb of the men within, so he counted on the High Master to assist them.

  He glanced down at Nemara; her face was pale, and even though the rain had plastered her hair to her head he could see the distinctive streak of white in her darker tresses. He cursed inwardly; he should have known better. Henrick had told him magic always cost. He should have listened, but in the heat of the moment he convinced himself Nemara could channel with him as Rena did. He could save the city… He really had no idea what Rena gave, or didn’t give, to Nemara. He never should have risked her life.

  He stepped into the recess of the cave. Sandbags had been placed at the entrance to keep the standing water from the tier at bay. As he glanced backward through the rain, the tier walls were like waterfalls at every drain spout.

  The two guards greeted him with hands on their swords. “Sorry milord, the Blackguard is not accepting any but fellow guardsmen. The caverns are struggling against the amount of rain themselves.”

  “I am Alador Guldalian and I will come in. You will send a runner to the High Master informing him of my arrival.” He adjusted Nemara in his arms; she was still unconscious and that worried him.

  The guardsman blinked, eyeing the two sodden souls before him. After hearing Alador’s full name, he thought better of rejecting him, nodding to send his younger companion at the entrance through the door and down the hall.

  As they waited he tried to make amends without breaking his orders to keep immigrants from the tiers at bay. “Here, set her down.” The man swept his cloak off and laid it against a wall out of the blowing rain. “What happened to her?”

  Alador was about to tell the truth of the situation when he realized that after his uncle’s reaction, that might not be wise. “Debris hit her in the head,” he murmured. He laid her down on the cloak and smoothed her hair out of her eyes.

  “What were you doing out in this madness?” The guard looked toward the entrance of the cave. Between the cascade of flowing water, the wind and the actual rain falling, you could not see more than a few feet beyond the wall.

  “Trying to help.” Alador flatly stated.

  He stayed crouched beside her. He did not bother with a drying spell for himself. When he was done here, he would be going back out. However, he did cast the cantrip over Nemara. He did not want her chilled on top of whatever he had done to her.

  “Did you see? Were there many people hurt in the quake?” The man asked, moving to the entrance and trying to peer out.

  “It wasn’t a quake.” Alador looked over. “It was a wave.”

  “A wave? The whole ground shook, how can that be a wave?” The man peered more intently but the ocean was lost in a gray shroud.

  “It was a very large one.” Alador answered. “I think it breached the first tier.”

  The man at the entrance let out a low whistle. “I did not think that possible. Are you certain?”

  “Fairly certain…” Alador had been about to say more when Nemara stirred.

  “Ala… lador…” Her eyes fluttered open.

  “Shhhh, I am right here. I am taking you to the Blackguard healers’ quarters.” Alador took her hand and squeezed it to reassure her.

  “Did you stop it?” Her worried question hung between them for a long moment.

  “No…no, I was unable to stop it,” he admitted softly.

  “Why is it so bright? It hurts.” She closed her eyes and frowned. “Even when my eyes are closed it is so bright.”

  “Bright?” Alador looked around the dark, dismal opening. “It is not bright, Nemara. Can… you see me?”

  She turned her head to his voice and opened her eyes. “No? All I see is light.”

  Alador cursed inwardly. He stood up and paced toward the door. “I am taking her down now.” He wasn’t going to wait any longer.

  “Not until we get the order from the High Master,” the guard stated firmly.

  Alador drew lightning to his hand without even thinking. “I am taking her down right now to the healers’ quarter. You can let me go peacefully or you can dance in lightning.” he hissed, the level of dangerous tension rose immediately between the two.

  Nemara sneezed and reached out her hand. “Alador?”

  The guard moved between them. He knew the mage would not loose his power with the woman behind him. “Whoa now, we don’t need any trouble here. You may be one of the magi, but you are also one of us. It won’t be but a minute or so more I am sure.”

  Alador let the power fade from his hand as he eyed the man. “I am going to pick up Nemara and head for that door. It had damn well better be open for me when I get to it or by the gods I swear…”

  The door opened and the High Master eyed Alador. “Threatening my men already, mage?” He shook his head in disappointment.

  He had men with him as he stepped forward and a healer rushed past them both to Nemara’s side.

  “She needs a healer.” Alador defended, his face flushed with his anger and distress over what he had done to Nemara.

  “And she will get the attention she needs. Now, how about you and I go to my office and have a…” The High Master Bariton had barely started talking before Alador overrode him.

  “There isn’t time. A wave hit the city. I know it was at least as high as the first tier. People need help and the army is likely inundated as well,” Alador moved forward, urgently explaining. “If ever the Blackguard was needed by this city, it is now.” He eyed the taller man. “And… it is time that they were seen in a positive light.”

  The High Master’s eyes narrowed. “Are you certain?” He glanced out at the gray veil between him and the city.

  “Absolutely.” Alador stated. “There isn’t time to waste.”

  The High Master turned to one of the men Alador knew only as an instructor. “Sound the alarm. I want every available guard down on the tiers and into the trench to help anywhere, and anyone, they can.” The High Master turned to another hovering guard. “Open all the cells and classrooms. We may be damp, but the caverns are safe from the wind.” Both men snapped salutes and Alador turned to go help the healer with Nemara.

  Bariton caught his arm. “Change into a uniform, for now you are Blackguard and not a privileged mage. I want you with me.”

  Alador pointed to Nemara. “But I need to…”

  “Let the healers do their work – it is their special gift. Your abilities can be better used helping the people of Silverport.” Bariton’s tone brooked no argument, and Alador responded properly without even thinking.

  Alador stepped away from everyone and muttered the spell to transform his gear. His rain drenched robes were replaced by shining black leather. His sword hung at his side. He swept his hair back and secured it.

  He could already hear the bells ringing inside the caverns through the opened door. He watched as two men helped lift Nemara onto a makeshift stretcher and disappear into the caverns with her.

  Bariton turned to one of his officers. “Lieutenant, as the guards appear, break them into groups of ten. They are to help secure the city, bringing the injured and anyone without shelter here. Make sure each man is equipped with a sturdy weighted rope; I image they will be pulling people from tier to tier in some cases.” Bariton looked over at Alador. “The second lieutenant and I will be out on the tiers above, assessing the damage - likely the second tier to start.”

  Alador looked around for the second lieutenant that Bariton spoke of, but realized Bariton was looking at him.

  “Wait? What? When did I get promoted?”

  “About ten seconds ago. Display your rank on your uniform as required,” the High Master ordered.

  Alador passed a hand over his right sleeve to materialize the insignia of a Second Lieutena
nt. He took a moment to admire the blazing crossed swords before Bariton called him back to the present.

  “With me, Second Lieutenant.” Bariton strode out into the wind and rain, disappearing behind the waterfall cascading over the entrance.

  Alador ducked out as well and was caught by the wind and slammed into the wall. “Shite,” he murmured, as the wind pressed him into the stone.

  He looked forward and saw that Bariton was working his way along the wall toward the third-tier buildings. Alador began to follow him, fighting against the gale. He could not see more than ten feet in front of him. The rain was hitting the wall at almost a horizontal slant. The wind was so vicious it felt as if it tore the air from his lungs.

  When they got to the walkway from the caverns out to the edge of the city, the damage just in front of them was astounding. Many of the roofs were made of overlapping half-circle clay tiles, durable and effective under normal circumstances. These were not anywhere near normal circumstances. He could see more than one roof where the tiles were flapping like wings on a bird and other places where they had peeled away completely. Shutters had come loose and were banging wildly and yet he couldn’t hear them over the wind. Rain catch barrels were rolling unchecked along the tiers. Awnings, boxes, boards, tiles, papers, smaller carts, and limp bodies were all being propelled along the walkways of the tiers by the gale.

  The two men made their way to the buildings along the third tier and stuck to their walls, trying to avoid the flying debris. Bariton dashed across the walkway to the tier edge, a place somewhat sheltered by the buildings on either side of them. Alador panted with the exertion of just staying on his feet as he joined Bariton. Both men stared in horrified fascination at the scene below them. Whatever waves had hit prior to their arrival finished the initial devastation. The water was slowly making its way off the first tier. Debris was pooling in the ramps down to the trench. Alador could not even see the ramps down.

  The lands beyond the trench were also saturated. Though the initial wave had passed over the city, additional smaller surges of water kept moving the flood inland. People could be seen attempting to stay upright and above the fast-moving water Children were held up on the shoulders of the adults. Those that had made it to the bridge up to the third tier stood at the edges much as the High Master and Alador did, mouths open in shock.