The Dark-Eyes War bots-3

by DAVID B. COE

  "I want archers ready to march as soon as these magical eagles are flying," Jenoe said. "And I want swordsmen just behind them. This will work best if the Fal'Borna have to fight off eagles and arrows at the same time."

  "Yes, Marshal," Enly said.

  He started shouting orders to the men of Qalsyn. Gries and two other captains from Fairlea hurried off to ready their army, and Hendrid's captains started back toward the men of Waterstone.

  The Mettai, in the meantime, halted after walking about a hundred fourspans. They pulled their knives free, stooped to pick up handfuls of dirt, cut themselves, and finally gathered blood on the flat edges of their blades and mixed it with the earth in their hands. Tirnya couldn't hear them speaking, but she knew that the next step in this odd process was for all of them to mutter their spells. A moment later, acting in near perfect unison, they flung their clods of bloody mud into the air.

  When the Mettai conjured the great wolves during their last encounter with the Fal'Borna, Tirnya had been disturbed by the way the dirt in their hands contorted and grew in those moments before the animals took form. This magic was no different. If anything, it seemed more alien to watch those small clumps of dirt sprout enormous wings and talons and heads. But in just a few seconds, nearly fifty eagles were soaring above the army.

  They were larger by far than any bird Tirnya had ever seen. Even from far below, their hooked beaks and sicklelike talons appeared large and sharp enough to rend a full-grown rilda in two. The creatures circled once over the army, and when their shadows passed overhead Tirnya shuddered, feeling as a rabbit must when it finds itself under the gaze of a hawk. But whatever intelligence the Mettai had imparted to the great birds seemed enough to allow them to distinguish between friend and foe, or Eandi and Qirsi. After completing one turn above the soldiers of Stelpana, the birds wheeled toward the sept. They flew in a series of loose columns, like airborne warriors in formation. They gave only one or two flaps of their great wings, and then glided, their tails twisting slightly this way or that to keep them in line.

  Fayonne and the Mettai watched them pass back overhead, and then the eldest turned to face Jenoe, as if to say, Now it's your turn.

  Tirnya's father looked back at the captains. "Are we ready?" he asked.

  "Qalsyn's archers are in place," Enly said. "So are Fairlea's. The men of Waterstone were a bit farther off. And the swordsmen aren't in formation yet."

  Jenoe frowned, clearly displeased. "Well, we'll make do with what we have. Have the swordsmen mustered forward as quickly as possible."

  "Yes, Marshal."

  "Archers, advance!" Jenoe called to the men behind him, gesturing with a raised arm and at the same time spurring his mount to a canter.

  A great shout rose from the men, and the bowmen of Qalsyn and Fairlea started toward the sept, their bows ready. Tirnya and the other captains followed the marshal on horseback. When they reached the Mettai, Fayonne and her people began to jog alongside the riders.

  Somehow Enly had positioned himself beside Tirnya, though he said nothing to her. For her part, Tirnya barely allowed herself a glance in his direction. Instead, she divided her attention between the great eagles soaring toward the sept and the settlement itself. She still saw no sign that the Fal'Borna were making ready for battle; she saw no white-hairs at all.

  "Something's not right," Enly said. "Where are they?"

  "Could they have fled?" she asked. "They would have gotten word that we were coming. They may have abandoned the sept or joined forces with another settlement."

  Enly shook his head. "There are still horses in the paddock. They're here. They're just waiting for something."

  "You should stop here, Marshal," Fayonne called to Jenoe. "Language of beasts. They'll be able to reach you soon."

  A moment later, Jenoe reined his horse to a stop and dismounted, though this, too, seemed to darken his mood. Hendrid, the captains, and the lead riders also halted and swung themselves off their mounts. They wasted little time in resuming their advance on foot.

  By now the eagles were over the sept and were circling like great buzzards, each turn bringing them lower.

  "Are you close enough for a finding spell?" Jenoe asked.

  "Not quite," Fayonne said.

  Tirnya's father nodded curtly. "They're too close," he said a moment later. "I wanted our archers to be in position before the eagles reached the sept. Now they'll-"

  Before he could finish the thought, a harsh, piercing screech split the air, followed by another and another. Several of the lowest eagles suddenly began to thrash violently, their wings bent at odd angles, their talons clenched in tight balls. They struggled for an instant or two and then plunged to the ground. As soon as they landed, men swarmed around them, spears in their hands, their white hair gleaming in the sun.

  "Damn!" Fayonne said. "They're using shaping magic."

  "Can you send more eagles?" Jenoe asked.

  The eldest looked at him and blinked once. "More?" she said, sounding simple.

  "Yes! You conjured these eagles. Conjure another flock and send them-"

  He broke off as more of the eagles screamed. All of them looked up into the sky in time to see several of the giant birds fall to the earth, their wings broken.

  Jenoe faced the eldest again, appearing more desperate by the moment. "Send more of the birds to attack the sept. Perhaps that will allow us to get close enough for your spells and our archers to have some effect."

  Fayonne abruptly seemed unsure of herself, as if Jenoe's request was the last thing she had expected.

  "You can do that, can't you?"

  "I- I think so," she said. "I've never heard of it being done, but I can't see any reason why it can't."

  Jenoe nodded once. "Good. Then do it. Now, quickly!"

  The eldest still seemed hesitant. She turned to the other Mettai and held up her knife for them to see.

  "More eagles," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  The other Mettai didn't appear to be fazed by this at all. Except for the eldest's son, whose face went white. He said nothing, though, and a moment later all of the Mettai had soil in their hands, blood on their blades, and the softly spoken words of the spell on their lips.

  Still more eagles screamed out in pain and tumbled to the ground. "Hurry, Eldest," Jenoe said. "There'll be none left before long."

  The muttering of the spell seemed to go on for a long time, but at last the Mettai hurled their fistfuls of mud at the sky, and several dozen more

  eagles began to rise into the air and soar toward the settlement. "Forward!" Jenoe shouted to the army.

  Again the warriors started off at a run toward the Fal'Borna settlement. The white-hairs' assault on the eagles continued. The second group of birds glided toward the few remaining eagles first conjured by the Mettai.

  When at last the soldiers of Stelpana were close enough to the sept, Jenoe called for a halt, his breath coming in great gasps and his face shining with sweat.

  Tirnya was winded as well, but she felt fresher than her father looked. "Are you all right, Father?" she asked.

  "Yes, of course," Jenoe said impatiently. "Archers!" he called.

  It almost seemed that the Fal'Borna had been waiting for Jenoe's signal, so suddenly did the wind rise from the west.

  Jenoe scowled. "Damn them!" He turned to Fayonne. "Find me their Weavers, Eldest."

  "Yes, Marshal."

  Once more, the Mettai began to conjure, and this time when they threw their mud in the direction of the sept, it turned into that silvery dust Tirnya remembered from their last encounter with the Fal'Borna. The white-hairs' wind didn't seem to slow the conjuring. It flew straight at the sept before settling over the shelters and garden plots like a fine mist. Almost instantly the entire settlement appeared to glow, as if the white moon had fallen to the ground with the latest group of slain eagles. Tirnya could see at least three faint glimmerings of yellow in the sea of white light.

  "You see the
m?" Jenoe called to no one in particular. "Those are the Weavers! Concentrate your volleys on them! Fire!"

  A thousand bows thrummed; a swarm of arrows rose into the air, only to be knocked back by the white-hairs' wind so that most of them fell far short of the village.

  The second group of eagles was over the settlement now, but rather than diving toward the Fal'Borna or their horses, they swooped at the other eagles and began to attack them.

  "No!" Fayonne whispered.

  "Eldest!" Jenoe called to the woman. "What are they doing?"

  "I don't know, Marshal. I wasn't really sure what they'd do, but I didn't expect this."

  The rasping screams of the birds seemed to drown out all other sound. The second group of eagles now vastly outnumbered the first, and they attacked in packs of three and four, tearing at their victims with those enormous beaks and cruel talons. Several more of the birds dropped to the ground, dead or dying.

  Tirnya could see the Fal'Borna pointing up at the eagles. A moment later, the white-hairs appeared to decide that they could turn their full attention to the approaching army. She could hear voices shouting, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

  ` Try putting them to sleep," Jenoe said. "That seems our best chance at this point."

  Fayonne looked at him. "The eagles?"

  "No, the Fal'Borna. Your finding spell worked. This one works the same way, doesn't it?"

  "Yes," Fayonne said. "If you mean the way it gets to them."

  Jenoe didn't have a chance to answer. At that moment, several of the Waterstone captains shouted a warning. They were pointing in the direction of the sept. Dozens of the men behind them had broken ranks to flee.

  Tirnya looked at the settlement, expecting to see Fal'Borna warriors on horseback, but at first she saw nothing.

  "Gods save us all," she heard Enly mutter.

  "What?" she said. "I don't see.."

  But she did. Finally. And the sight of it turned her innards to water.

  It looked like a breaker rolling toward the Aelean shore. But instead of the aqua waters of the Sea of Stars, this wave was made of fire. It was pale yellow, like the eyes of the angry young Fal'Borna Tirnya had spoken to in the last sept. That was why she'd had trouble seeing it at first. Now she could see nothing else. The wave grew as it approached the armies of Stelpana, until it towered over them.

  Jenoe stared at the wave as if it were an army of wraiths, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. "Eldest!" he finally managed to say. "Can you do anything?"

  "We can try" was all the eldest said.

  She and the other Mettai were already bending to pick up dirt, their blades ready. They had spread themselves in a single broad row so that they stood in front of a good portion of the army.

  The Mettai cut their hands, mixed the blood with the earth, and began to chant their spell. For once, Tirnya heard them distinctly. "Blood to earth," they said. "Life to power, power to thought…"

  That was all. They stood utterly still, watching that rolling wave of flame. A strange silence settled over the plain. Everyone seemed to be waiting to see what that wave would do to them, and what the Mettai might be able to conjure to protect them.

  "Eldest?" Tirnya's father said.

  Fayonne raised her blade hand, as if to silence him, but she didn't say a word or take her eyes off the Fal'Borna's fire.

  Tirnya could feel the heat of it on her face and hands. The air was growing hot enough to make it uncomfortable to inhale. She could hear the flame hissing, although as far as she could tell it had done nothing to burn the grass over which it passed.

  Her father was watching the Mettai, clearly unnerved. She could tell that he wanted to say something-to demand to know what they were going to do, or to implore them to do whatever it was quickly. But she could see as well that he didn't dare. He was treading on unfamiliar ground, watching a battle of magic against magic. She had never seen him look more helpless.

  And still the wave bore down on them, the heat striking at the Eandi armies like a war hammer. Tirnya thought that her clothes and hair and skin would burst into flame at any moment, and she felt certain that Fayonne and her people had waited too long.

  But when at last the eldest called out "Now!," her voice sounded surprisingly calm.

  "Earth to water!" the Mettai said in almost perfect unison.

  At the same time, they hurled the dirt at that wall of flame, the small clods of mud looking pitiful against the Fal'Borna's fire. But instantly the mud turned to water; great torrents of water that appeared to surge toward that magical wave like Ravens Wash during the rains of the Planting. Tirnya didn't know how it was possible for the Mettai to conjure so much water from so little earth. But they did. And when that magical fire met the conjured flood of water, they produced an explosion of white steam that scalded Tirnya's face and knocked her, her father, and many of the captains standing with them ontc their backs. The Mettai were thrown back as well, and the steam rose into the air in a huge billowing cloud.

  Tirnya could hear screams coming from the right and left, and she assumed that the Mettai had not been able to block entirely the Fal'Borna fire magic.

  "Report!" Jenoe called, climbing to his feet. "I want to know numbers of wounded and dead!"

  He turned to the eldest, who was being helped to her feet by her son. "The sleeping spell, Eldest! Please! Before they can attack us again!"

  "We're lucky that wasn't shaping," Gries said, his face red from the heat of the fire and steam. "We'd all be dead."

  Enly shook his head. "It wasn't luck. The shapers were still fighting off the eagles."

  Tirnya looked toward the sept again, and saw that with the first group of eagles all dead or maimed, the second flock had begun to attack the Fal'Borna, and the white-hairs had resumed their magical assaults on the birds.

  The Mettai were conjuring again, and as with the finding spell, when they threw this magic it turned to a fine glittering powder and streaked over the plain to the settlement, where it fell like a light snow on the sept. Immediately Tirnya saw the white-hairs go down, as if struck by unseen warriors. A cheer went up from the Eandi soldiers behind her.

  Seeing their prey rendered helpless, the great eagles that still circled over the sept pounced, digging their talons into the prone bodies and tearing at them with their massive beaks.

  "We should finish it," Jenoe said grimly. He turned to Tirnya and the other captains. "I want the children spared. But every adult is to be killed." Tirnya and Enly shared a look.

  "Forgive me, Marshal," Gries said. "But am I to understand that you want us to slaughter the Fal'Borna while they sleep? The men and the women?" Jenoe drew himself up and took a breath. "That's right, Captain."

  "But-"

  Tirnya's father held up a hand to stop him. Several soldiers were approaching from both ends of the army.

  "Report," Jenoe said.

  A man in a Qalsyn uniform sketched a quick bow. "We los' one hundr'd an' twelve, sir."

  "One hundred and twelve dead?" Stri said, incredulous.

  The soldier nodded. "Anoth'r two hundr'd or so were burned an' need healin'."

  Jenoe turned to a soldier wearing the colors of Fairlea. "What about your men?"

  "Ninety-six dead, sir. More'n a hundr'd hurt."

  "And yours?" Jenoe said to a soldier from Waterstone.

  "We don' know yet, sir. A' least one hundr'd an' fifty dead. More than tha' probably. An' two hundr'd hurt."

  Jenoe nodded. "I'm sorry for your losses, Marshal, Captain," he said to Hendrid and Gries, both of whom appeared shocked by what they had heard. "But to answer your question, Captain Ballidyne: Yes, I want them killed while they sleep. That was just one attack, and thanks to the Mettai we were spared the worst of it. And still we had hundreds of soldiers wounded or killed. We can't trifle with this enemy. They're at our mercy now, and I don't dare show them any." He gazed toward the sept as the eagles continued their bloody feast. "Please carry out my orders. Take archers with
you and kill those eagles, too. I don't want to lose any more men today."

  "Yes, Marshal," Enly said quietly.

  The other captains led their men into the sept, but Tirnya hung back for a moment.

  "Father?"

  Jenoe didn't seem to have noticed that she was there. He started at the sound of her voice and frowned upon seeing her.

  "You have orders to carry out, Tirnya. Please see to them."

  He turned his back on her before she could say more. She wasn't used to hearing him speak to her so, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him. After a moment, she followed the others.

  She walked quickly and soon had caught up with her men. Oliban and Dyn, two of her lead riders, were walking together. When they saw her they made room between them.

  "Capt'n," Oliban said by way of greeting, his voice low.

  Tirnya merely nodded. The men around them were so subdued one might have thought that they had lost this battle.

  She heard the thrum of bows once more and looked up in time to see two eagles laboring to keep aloft, both with several arrows jutting from their breasts.

  "I've never had t' kill an enemy like this before," Dyn said.

  Tirnya pulled her sword free. "None of us has."

  Already she could see soldiers thrusting their blades into the chests of sleeping Fal'Borna. Some of the soldiers were from Qalsyn; others were from Fairlea or Waterstone. All of them seemed disturbed by what they were being made to do.

  "We should check the shelters," she said. "There'll be warriors in many of them."

  She approached the nearest of the structures, which had been fashioned out of wooden poles and rilda skins. Pushing aside a flap that covered the entrance and stepping into the shelter, she found half a dozen sleeping children and two women, both of them holding spears.

  "Damn," she whispered.

  "Capt'n?" Oliban called to her from outside the shelter.

  "It's all right," she said, her teeth clenched against a sudden sick feeling in her stomach.

  She considered ordering Oliban into the shelter and telling him to do this. But she quickly dismissed the idea. Then she wondered if she and her men should drag the women out of the shelter, so that the children wouldn't awake to find themselves with two corpses. But would they be any better off leaving the shelter and finding the bodies out there? And did she want anyone else to see her do this?