The old men tried to question Weasel but he obdurately refused to discuss where his origins lay. He admitted to being of clan blood but would not say which. Tempers began to rise until Chak swore he trusted Weasel and offered his own life in forfeit should Weasel prove false. Cully and Keff had been sent lower, to another Bear village overlooking the distant plains. They were not distrusted, but The Bear thought it best for them to be beyond the range of any battle.
This morning Emas was turning out a cupboard in the bedroom she shared with her husband. Jerkins followed woollen jackets which flew after shirts, hurled over her shoulder onto the floor behind. She muttered constantly as she picked through various garments which she had suddenly decided were quite unfit for her husband to wear any longer. When she backed out of the cupboard, she surveyed the jumbled clothes and blew wild tendrils of greying hair off her face.
Menagol and Theap had sneaked away two days ago; she’d skin them both when they got back. But this morning her husband had gone as well. She conceded that he had bidden her a proper farewell rather than sneaking away like those two boys. Emas had been in the kitchen when The Bear stood in the doorway, filling the large space. He wore a soft grey shirt she had made for him last winter, a sleeveless jerkin of toughened grey leather over it. His great double headed axe was across his back and knife hilts bristled from his belt and under his arms. He held a great skull in one hand, his dark honey eyes fixed on her.
‘Your blessing, wife.’
Emas opened her mouth to scream at him, closed it and swallowed hard. She could not see her man leave for battle with her curses ringing in his ears. She stared up at him, refusing to let tears come into her eyes or the lump in her throat clog her voice.
‘As daughter, and as wife, and as mother of Bears, my blessing travels whatever trails you take.’
He nodded once and turned away, strapping the bear skull over his own head and becoming, wholly, The Bear. Emas followed him to the outer door and watched him stride down the steps then turn to the north. Behind him came some twenty or so warriors. Their faces determined, they trotted almost silently as The Bear led them out of the village. Emas watched until the last warrior disappeared from view and then stormed back to their bedroom to sort out the clothes cupboard.
Lemos found her there some time later sitting on the bed with a much mended, shabby woollen jacket over her knees. He sat beside her and took one of her hands in his. She leaned closer against his shoulder but neither spoke. They had come from the same womb, only moments apart. They often found they had no need for words between them.
Soon after the following dawn, The Bear and his warriors were in place, further north of Sergeant Peach and his men, and also lower on the mountain. They knew the exiled Prince Jemin was beyond the ridge north and west of the Ghost Falls, less than a quarter of a league away. They settled down to wait.
General Whilk had looked forward to dealing with Strannik at least, but he was worried about the ordinary foot guards. He’d explained his misgivings to Jemin: that many of those guards were simply obeying orders over which they had no control. Whilk was also unnerved after Jemin introduced him to four of his squad members. Their black uniforms were untidy: one wore an oddly shaped hat, another a very dented metal helmet.
‘These are my engineers,’ Jemin explained.
Engineers? The General understood engineers were people who could construct bridges in awkward places, could plan road systems and drainage, and blast their way, with their strange chemicals, in mining regions. Therefore General Whilk saw no reason for engineers to be in this group of fighters.
‘They’ve come well supplied,’ Jemin continued. ‘Show the General some of what you’ve got, Dog.’
The one wearing the battered helmet knelt to unfasten a pack. Whilk blinked, aware only now that Dog was a woman. Probably. She carefully removed a box, then raised the lid. Four clay pots nestled inside, wrapped in fleecy wadding, each about the size of an apple. The man with the strange hat grinned at the General.
‘Just one of those would probably blow up the whole barracks.’
Jemin also grinned. ‘And I trust you’ve plenty more between you Rose?’
‘’Course we have.’ Rose scowled now, offended by such a stupid remark.
General Whilk found he was unable to smile or nod. He noticed Rose’s hands shook like a man with a fever, but he appeared healthy.
‘Off you go then. Work round and make sure you block the trail when the very last of them are through the pass.’ Jemin waved them away.
The General watched the four engineers shamble up a steep and narrow goat trail.
Jemin followed his gaze. ‘Let’s hope none of them trip up,’ he said cheerfully.
Whilk cleared his throat but found he was still speechless. They’d rejoined the rest of the men before the General felt capable of words.
‘Those things,’ he said. ‘They were mining explosives weren’t they?’
Jemin shrugged. ‘Don’t know what you might call them; the engineers call them poppers.’
The men settled to wait, seemingly relaxed but all knowing that the first Kelshans would be in sight before noon. General Whilk sat a little apart, trying to work out how exactly he came to be in this situation. One of his officers, Kestis, hunkered beside him.
‘We are sworn to you General, you know that. But I heard that the Bear tribe have vowed to let no Kelshan survive to return to their homes.’
The General sighed. ‘I have spoken of this to the Prince. He has promised that any guards who surrender, will be allowed to live peacefully within this Realm.’ He raised his head to look Kestis squarely in the face. ‘Should any who surrender then try to escape, they will be killed.’
Kestis chewed his lip. ‘I have to say sir, that sounds more just than our dealings have been with the wild clans over the last years.’
Whilk frowned.
Kestis lowered his voice. ‘How many women and children has the Imperatrix allowed to be slaughtered sir? I’ve seen it myself. I thank all the gods and goddesses that I have never done those things but that was mainly luck that I avoided having to do them. I often wonder, in the darkest nights, what I would have done had I been directly ordered to such actions.’
Whilk nodded slowly. ‘You are right Kestis, and thank you for your timely words. We will try to persuade as many guards as we can to lay down their arms.’
Then Kestis spoiled the General’s lightened mood. ‘Where were those four men off to just now sir – the Prince’s men? Scruffy group I thought. Surprising when they serve the Prince himself.’
Those engineers were beginning to enjoy themselves in the bizarre manner of engineers. They’d dropped from the high path to the main trail and Dog was reverently burying a set of poppers under loose stones about head height on the eastern slope. Onion was busy burying more straight across the floor of the trail. Rose was watching them, a maniacal glint in his eyes, hands trembling badly. Darrick came sprinting towards them, his pack clasped to his chest as if it was a delicate babe. All four scurried back up to the goat path and moved cautiously north as instructed. Engineers took their fun where they could.
Darrick in the lead, they wound through the pass. An occasional muttered curse came from Rose when his footing slipped. Dog and Onion exchanged glances. Rose had a definite flair for the imaginative use of explosives but his nerves had suffered. The hint of insanity had increased of late and his companions kept a careful eye on him.
The sound of voices and booted feet came to them and the engineers ducked low behind the boulders edging their path. Onion and Darrick left their packs with Dog and squirmed around until they could get a glimpse of the trail below. Dog sat watching Rose with mounting worry. She’d never seen him this bad before. Their group had been quite busy during the last year, ever since the mines, near the Dark Realm’s north eastern coast, had flooded.
A large proportion of the workings was lost and the engineers had worked long and hard to find suitable a
reas to open fresh tunnels. Twice, Rose had delayed too long and been caught in the debris from the blasts. He’d started wearing a hat then, to cover the burn scars and pock marks on his bald head. And his hands shook all the time.
‘Those poppers along the wall,’ Rose muttered now. ‘ Figure they’ll blow on their own?’
‘’Course they will.’ Dog adjusted her helmet. She called it her lucky helmet. She’d found it in the mines, still encasing a head. The rest of the miner’s body was lost under rubble, but the head wearing the helmet rested neatly some distance away.
Onion slid back next to her. ‘First ones coming through.’ He grinned, revealing more gaps than teeth. ‘I’ll move on. One of the Bears said the trail goes between a couple of rock pillar things. Bring them down and the way out’s done for.’
Dog nodded, flicking a glance at Rose. ‘We’ll be along.’
‘All right Rosie?’ Onion asked. ‘Be some bloody good bangs in a while.’
Sweat beaded on Rose’s forehead and his eyes gleamed too brightly, but he nodded, gripping his pack against his chest. ‘We’ll be on your heels Onion.’ His words came slurred but too fast, and Onion’s smile faltered.
‘Right, we’re off.’
He tapped Darrick’s leg and then made off along the path, keeping hunched low. Darrick slid down, caught up his pack and trotted off after Onion. Dog stood, risking a wary peep between the rocks. Four men abreast, in dusty green uniforms, marched behind a single rider. In her quick glimpse, the line of men seemed endless. She grunted and reached for Rose’s arm, hauling him to his feet.
‘C’mon Rosie, we got work to see to.’
Rose only giggled. ‘Dark have mercy,’ thought Dog.
Darrick and Onion lay in the lee of a flat slab of rock, watching men pass beneath them. There was a slight gap at last and then more men came, leading horses. Darrick’s counting didn’t go above twenty but there were an awful lot of twenties. He knew little of horses but Onion did, and he cursed under his breath. The condition of the animals was bad and many looked to be near foundering.
The men leading the horses cared for them, Onion could see that. They coaxed and cajoled, and the unhappy animals tried to respond. Darrick nudged him and jerked his head north. Onion looked back at the horses stumbling along the trail below. He grabbed Darrick’s sleeve to halt him then unfastened his pack. Carefully he lifted out two sets of poppers and passed them to Darrick.
‘Blow those pillars straight off,’ he told him. ‘I want to stop those horses before they get onto the open land by the Falls.’
Darrick stared at him for a moment, nodded, and tucked the extra poppers into his own pack. ‘Dark give you luck,’ he said, and moved away fast.
Onion hurried back the way they’d come until he found a narrow gully leading down. Holding his pack to his chest, he let himself slither and slip until he reached the main trail barely paces behind the last horses. His arrival went unnoticed until a guard turned to encourage one of the horses. The horse’s head was hanging low and its left hind leg quivered. The guard stared at the black uniformed man standing so near. Onion raised a hand, palm open.
‘Wait,’ he called quietly in strongly accented common tongue. ‘I would not see your poor beasts hurt further.’
The guard turned to call to his fellows and the horses slowed to a halt.
‘What do you mean stranger?’
Another guard pushed through the animals, his long sword drawn. Before Onion could reply there were several loud concussions behind him. The horses milled and a few found the energy to rear away from their guards. The guard with the drawn sword looked at Onion, at the horses, back to Onion, then above Onion’s head. A dust cloud rose, perhaps a quarter of a league to the north. Onion shrugged.
‘A friend’s just blocked your road home. If you want your animals safe, stay here for a while. You head forward only to slaughter.’
‘And why do you tell us this?’ The guard moved his sword towards Onion.
Before Onion could answer, another guard pushed between the horses, his face bruised and swollen.
‘I am second Captain Sekran. I too would know why you warn us of an attack.’
Onion shrugged again. ‘I like horses. My family raises some of the best in the Realm. Those look like they were good animals before some idiot ordered them through our mountains.’
Sekran gave an abrupt nod and turned away. ‘Turn the horses,’ he called. ‘Let them rest a while here.’ He looked over his shoulder at Onion. ‘Is there water nearby? We have found very little.’
Onion was already scrambling back up the rock face. He paused. ‘Plenty. If you do not raise weapons, you will not be harmed when the Dark guards come through.’
‘You are so sure they will get through our force?’
Onion paused again and laughed. ‘Oh yes Captain, for sure.’
He’d nearly got to the goat path when Sekran called again. ‘Your name?’
Onion stuck his head back over the edge of rock. ‘Onion!’
Darrick puffed into sight and bent over, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
‘Went up lovely Onion – should’ve seen it.’
‘Did Dog get along to you?’
Darrick straightened. ‘No. Wondered where they’d got to.’
Onion scowled. ‘Dog’d never let you down. Come on.’ He hurried back the way they’d come, going as fast as the loose shale would allow.
Dog had shouldered her pack and taken a couple of paces when she was aware Rose wasn’t with her. She spun round in time to see him vanish back in the direction of the Ghost Falls.
‘Oh Dark blast him,’ she muttered, and set off after him.
Dog moved as quietly and smoothly as she could. Falling with a pack full of poppers wasn’t a good idea and she was close enough to the Kelshans marching parallel with her to hear their voices clearly. She stopped at a bend and peered ahead where the path ran straight for a good distance. At the farthest point, she saw Rose, clambering up the rocks to the left of the path.
His feet were more than an arms length above her head by the time she drew level. She put her pack against the back cliff wall and jumped to reach his boots.
‘Rose, what are you doing? For Dark’s sake, get back down here,’ she hissed as loud as she dared.
Somehow he twisted his head to look down at Dog. ‘Bangs in the Dark, Dog.’ He giggled, spittle wetting his chin.
Dog stared up at him in horror, noticing he still had his pack on his shoulders.
‘Rosie, come down. Please. I beg you.’ She jumped again, trying to grab a foot.
Then she heard shouts ring out to her right, the sudden clang of metal on metal, the roaring war cry of the Bears, the screaming of the Eagles.
‘No Rosie!’ she screamed, watching his boot soles go over the top of the rocks.
But in less than a heartbeat she’d thrown herself flat, hands over her ears and prayed her helmet was as lucky as she’d boasted it was. The rock lifted beneath her, stones far larger than she’d have liked rained down around and on her. After what felt like an age she cautiously moved her hands away from her head. Her ears rang and buzzed. Dog put her palms flat under her shoulders and pushed herself onto her side. Pain flashed through her right leg but she refused to pass out.
‘Oh Mother Dark, what would sixteen poppers do, exploding in one place, and that place Rose’s back?’
The sound of fighting was muffled but she could hear sharp screams of pain much closer. She groaned and closed her eyes then opened them as someone crashed down next to her. Onion and Darrick were pushing stones and rock away from her.
‘Where’s Rosie?’ Onion asked, looking at Dog’s right leg where bone jutted out through shredded black trousers.
Dog jerked a thumb behind her.
‘Dark! Did you suspect he was so far gone?’ Onion asked, tilting Dog’s face up, away from the sight of Darrick reaching for her foot.
Dog began to shake her head, spasmed into rigi
dity and slumped unconscious against Onion.
Darrick was pouring water from his flask over the mangled mess that was Dog’s right thigh. ‘Need a healer quick, Onion. Bleeding’s not fast thank Mother Dark, but that break’s bad.’ He pulled his jerkin off and laid it over the injury. ‘Too much bloody dust, but I can’t see us moving her without we do worse damage.’
‘Go see what’s happening Darrick, and fetch a stretcher. Fast.’
Darrick left at a run, his errand more urgent than thoughts of battle. In fact, as he emerged onto the stretch of open ground bordering the edge of the Ghost Falls, there was no full battle. Eagle warriors, arrows ready fixed, stood above a crowded mass of green uniformed men. Some Kelshan guards still fought savagely among Bear warriors and Dark guards. But bodies lay heaped on the rough turf, many bodies. Most wore the Kelshan green. Darrick scanned the encircling line of Dark guards looking for Jemin. He spotted one of the Kelshan General’s men and leaped between two Eagles to hurry towards the officer.
‘Sir,’ he said breathlessly. ‘We need a stretcher, quickly.’
Kestis stared at him before recognising the man. He made a quick decision. ‘Eltim, I’m going with this guard. He has wounded to retrieve.’
Eltim nodded briefly and turned back to watch the men fighting within the tightening circle of Dark guards. Kestis hurried back to where healers were already at work and was pointed towards a stack of poles wrapped in cloths. He grabbed one pair and called to Darrick.
‘How many?’
‘Just Dog sir.’
Shouldering the stretcher, he trotted after Darrick. Climbing back up to where the goat trail began, Kestis glanced into the sky. A large number of dark birds wheeled silently overhead. Kestis shivered. Ravens, come to the feast.
One enormous raven landed beside a Dark Lord. Favrian flicked gore and a tangle of entrails from his blade towards the bird.
‘First taste to you Hag,’ he called, his golden eyes still blazing.
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 23
