by Joseph Lallo
“I don’t think so. They can’t burn us out. All the grass is gone here. We only have to wait.”
“Hmmm.”
He didn’t sound convinced, and truth be told neither was she. She tried to pierce the smoke, wishing for that obliging breeze to return. Even as the thought occurred to her, the wind came up, and whipped the fire into an inferno. Surely nothing could withstand such heat. The sorcerers obviously thought differently. She could feel them pouring their magic into the ward, and it was holding the flames at bay! Before she could even try to hit it again, fire engulfed her.
Mathius’ shield was the first to fail, but before the flames could do more than singe his robe, she extended hers to cover him. It thinned as it grew, and its glow dimmed as it weakened. She gasped as the air inside suddenly became as hot as an oven. Gritting her teeth at the strain, she drew harder upon her magic to strengthen it. It brightened beyond what it had been before. She hugged Mathius closer to reduce the area it covered, and prayed for the attack to end.
The flames kept coming, and coming, and coming.
How could they keep it up? Even she couldn’t last this long! She pulled more magic, as her shield dimmed, eroded by the sorcerous flames clawing at it, but it continued to fail under the onslaught despite her efforts. More magic, it dimmed further. More, and more again. It brightened, just about holding pace with the attack, but the air was almost impossible to breathe now. It scorched her lungs as she panted, and sucked it greedily down, but worse than that, the wind had changed direction. They were submerged in smoke again. It was so hot that her exposed skin felt stretched tight, and Mathius’ robe began to smoulder. He ripped it, and used a piece to cover his nose and mouth. She grabbed some, hoping to filter the smoke.
It didn’t help very much.
* * *
56 ~ For Love of the Lady
Keverin galloped north in a thunder of hooves. When Julia had ridden north, he’d fallen back on his duty, as he always did when confronted by his feelings for her. Athione needed him, or his men did, or Deva did, or any number of other stupid excuses to cover his feelings for her. He was too old for her, or too set in his ways, or too… too… stupid, he though lamely. Just too stupid to accept what she offered him. Love, and the hope of a happy future with her.
This time was different.
He’d found himself saddling Cavell with no memory of making the decision, and when he’d led her out of the stable, his men were waiting for him. They’d found him out somehow, and wouldn’t let him leave without them. They explained that their lady was fighting for them, and she needed them to fight for her. He ordered them to stay at Malcor, of course, and defend it under Jihan’s orders, but Jihan arrived just then to announce that he was going as well!
And that was why he was leading two thousand men to their deaths.
The day had moved on toward evening when he saw the source of the smoke blanketing the sky. It had been visible for leagues, but when he saw the flames stretching across the horizon, his heart sank. A wall of fire was advancing across the plain, and behind it nothing remained but ash. Burned corpses of men and horses littered the ground. There was no sign of Julia. He was about to order his men to search for her, when a shout of alarm rose. He turned to see the remnants of a Hasian battalion galloping out of dense smoke.
“Athione!” he roared in fury, glad to have something to vent his rage upon. He spurred to meet them.
“Athione and Julia!” his men responded.
“Malcor!” Jihan shouted, and his men charged with him.
Keverin hacked his first two men out of their saddles easily. They’d seemed more intent on running from the flames, than in attacking him, but he didn’t have it all his own way. A tall man, a captain by his rank badge, attacked and managed to wound him slightly. He barely felt the wound. He cut the captain down, and spurred Cavell toward another target without slowing.
The Malcorans fought methodically and well, in pairs where that was possible. Jihan guided Jezy into the fray with his knees, saving his left hand for his shield, and wielding his sword with his right. Obedient to his will, Jezy turned this way and that, never faltering as her master was attacked from all sides. He fought where the enemy were at their strongest, in an effort to take the brunt of the battle, and ease the pressure on his men. His blurring sword reaped lives, and the Hasians recoiled in horror from him. None came near to wounding him. His men took courage from seeing him fight, and they fought all the harder to be worthy of him. Their battle cries began to change, as they watched him force his way through the Hasian formation. The charge degenerated into a chaos of surging horse flesh, and dying men screaming for their mothers, as they fell beneath trampling hooves. The ash covered dust soon turned into bloody mud, as men on both sides bled their lives away onto the thirsty ground.
“Malcor and Jihan!” they cried in awe. “For Jihan and Malcor!”
“Athione!”
“Julia!” Keverin roared to answer his men. “For Julia!”
He cut another man from his saddle, and turned Cavell toward the next, but it was over. Casting about for Jihan, he breathed easier when he found his friend unharmed. There were dead and wounded piled around him on the ash black ground. Loose horses wandered, or nudged their fallen riders, wanting them to get up. He tried to estimate how many of the dead were Devan, but they’d become anonymous. All of them were soot and ash covered, making friend and foe look alike in death.
“Mount the wounded in front of the able bodied,” he said to Jihan.
“Best we can do,” Jihan agreed, and quickly had the wounded mounted in front of their companions. They would ride in the centre of the formation.
Keverin beckoned Brian. “I want you and a half dozen men to scout ahead, but no more than a few hundred yards mind. Keep a sharp eye for Julia, and watch those fires. If the wind changes we’ll be for it.”
“Aye, m’lord,” Brian said and shouted to the men. “First six men with me!”
Keverin waited until the scouts were well ahead, and then led his men forward. He remembered his own advice and watched the flames warily. The wind seemed to be favouring them, but he wasn’t comforted.
“Was this Julia’s plan, do you think? The fire I mean,” Jihan said.
“No idea. Knowing her, she probably rode right up to them, and ordered them to go home. They said no, and this is the result.”
Jihan grinned.
Ash puffed up and mixed with the dust as they rode steadily north. They had to cover their faces to filter it. The stink of burned meat was enough to turn his stomach, and it made him want to dash ahead to find Julia, but he had to search the hills methodically. The fire made identifying bodies hard. The thought that one of them might be Julia was terrifying. The wind changed direction and added a new dimension to his worry. The burned area was safe enough from the flames, but the smoke meant slowing the column to a crawl, or risk missing her on their first pass. They might not get another.
“Look there,” Jihan said, pointing ahead. The scouts were heading back at the gallop.
“Hasians m’lord,” Brian called when he was close enough. “The smoke is too thick to see, but we heard them.”
“I’ll take half the men around the hill—” Jihan began.
“And I’ll draw them in,” Keverin finished for him.
They smiled grimly.
It was a plan. A good one? That depended upon how many they faced. With the smoke so thick, they had no way to determine numbers. Jihan led half the men into the smoke and behind the hill. Keverin and the rest of the men pretended to stop for a drink. As Jihan disappeared into the smoke, the Hasians appeared from the other side of the hill in good order. Their scouts were looking for a way around the fire, which had begun to circle around due to the wind. It was blowing toward the south now, driving the smoke before it.
The scouts saw them, and spurred back to the main body to report. A moment later, the entire battalion charged to the
attack.
Keverin fought hard to keep his men in a tight formation, and supporting each other. They successfully resisted the initial push, until Jihan circled the hill and struck the enemy in the flank. The Hasians were taken by surprise, and before their captain could reorganise, his battalion broke in two.
“Sweep right!” Keverin roared. His blade blurred right and left harvesting arms and heads as he urged Cavell on.
Jihan had the more difficult task. It was simple bad luck that most of the Hasian sergeants were trapped in his half of the enemy battalion. It was the more organised force. Jihan tried to single them out, but the press of battle prevented his efforts. It was Keverin’s turn to attack from the rear. He finished off his half of the enemy, and immediately wheeled to attack those pressing Jihan. The extra men made all the difference, and the battle ended with Devans owning the field.
Keverin didn’t feel victorious as he counted empty saddles. He’d lost more than three hundred men. Jihan had lost more. A thousand legionaries had almost succeeded in holding off twice their number of Devan guardsmen. Even taken by surprise, the Hasians had nearly won. All knew that the legions were deadly. The battle here had illustrated the point only too well.
He removed his helmet to let the air dry his sweat-soaked hair, while his men gave the grace to comrades and enemies alike. There weren’t many wounded left now, he noted. He tried not to notice who the missing faces belonged to. There would be time to mourn later, after they recovered Julia, and they would. He would not entertain a world where that didn’t happen.
“We can’t do this again,” he said. He dried his face, and replaced his helm.
“If we have to, we will,” Jihan said grimly. “Julia is more important than any one of us.”
“I love her, my friend,” Keverin said. “She means more than life to me.”
“I don’t mean that. Deva is finished without her. Even with her, it might be. Mortain will keep sending his forces our way until he breaks us. She’s our only chance.”
He didn’t want to think about that. Not now, not ever again. Jihan was right about Julia’s importance, but she wasn’t a tool to be used. It had taken him far too long to see her point of view, but he did now. He wouldn’t let himself fall back upon his old attitude. Besides, whether she knew it or not, she was going to be his consort. She already meant more to him than life.
Jihan gave the order to mount up, but the horses were panicky. The men cursed as they tried to climb into the saddle. The horses side-stepped and reared. Some turning circles as their riders tried to climb into the saddle.
“On foot?” Jihan said grimly.
“Have to.”
A candlemark later, and Keverin despaired of finding Julia alive, or even at all. The sun had disappeared behind clouds of smoke, and the air itself was hot. Breathing the foul stuff was almost impossible.
“Come on you... ack, ack... flaming wooden-headed...”
He turned to see what the problem was. One of Jihan’s men was having trouble with his horse. Its eyes were wide with panic. It was going backwards, pulling its rider along with it by the reins. A chill went down his spine at the sight, and he spun in search of what had spooked it. He couldn’t see a cursed thing. The smoke was too thick.
“Brian... ack, ack. Get someone up that hill. See... ack, ack, what there is to see.”
Brian wheezed his acknowledgement. He scrambled up the hill himself, and returned almost straight away. Wide eyed.
“The flames are circling round, m’lord. We... ack, ack, ack, must turn back now or be trapped.”
He couldn’t leave! Julia might be only a few yards beyond the next hill. He looked around desperately for a solution, but all of the men had begun fighting their horses as the panic spread. A cold calm swept over him as he made his ruinous decision.
“I’m sorry Kev... ack, ack, it’s hopeless. We’re done,” Jihan wheezed. The young lord’s face was black with ash, and he peered at the world through red rimmed eyes.
“You must lead my... ack, ack, ack... my men... back to Malcor. I want you to... ack, ack... witness the declaration of my heir. Tell... ack, ack, Gylaren’s second son... tell Niklaus that he’s my choice. Do you understand?”
“But!”
“Do. You. Understand?”
“I understand Kev, but...” he sighed. “I understand,” Jihan said sadly.
“Good man... ack, ack... Take Cavell with you. Now you best be on your way.”
“May the God watch over you and Julia.”
Closing his eyes, Keverin prayed for guidance, and turned on the spot. When he opened them, he was looking into the worst of the smoke. Without hesitation, he walked into it. He heard Brian and Jihan arguing behind him, but he didn’t stop.
His world turned to stinging eyes and hacking cough.
* * *
57 ~ Veil of Tears
Julia was slowly suffocating, but there was nothing she could do about it. She’d hardened her shield to keep the heat and smoke at bay, but it also kept the air out. She hadn’t realised the problem at first, not until Mathius fell unconscious, and she’d become light-headed. All she could do was change it back at intervals to let the air back in, but when she did that, the smoke came in with it.
At its peak, the fire had raced across the plain faster than a horse could gallop. It was still raging out of control. She watched a large body of men gallop north, trying to make a run for it. They were Deva’s enemies, but she wished them luck. A short time later, a much smaller group galloped by, heading south. She thought it might be the same one.
She doubted they would survive.
She contemplated Mathius, dully, and coughed trying to breathe shallowly. Her magic roared within her, keening and howling, mocking her with its potency. She was the oh-so-powerful Sorceress of Athione. She could heal death itself, or so they said. They didn’t know squat! She couldn’t even cool the air or make it breathable! What good was all the power in the world, if she couldn’t save her best friend? Mathius was going to die, because she didn’t know how to save him. He was dying in his sleep right now, and it was her fault.
How many people had she killed now? Directly and indirectly, she was responsible for the deaths of twenty thousand legionnaires, and she’d failed to save over half of Athione’s men. If Gideon was right, she would kneel in judgement before God soon. Would he understand and forgive her the choices she’d made, when she couldn’t forgive herself?
She was becoming woozy again, she realised. It was time to change her shield. She made the mental adjustment, and the shield became permeable to air. Smoke and the stink of burned meat swirled inside, stinging her eyes and making them stream with tears. She watched the remnants of the legion through a veil of tears. A good name for a place where so many died. The Vale of Tears. If battles were named that way, there might be less war.
The misery of slow suffocation continued through that day and into the evening, but as the sun went down the wind shifted west. The air outside cleared a little, and she let it back in. She breathed it gratefully, and it didn’t taste hot. She raised her shield tentatively, ready to slam it down again. A cool breeze caressed the tight skin of her cheeks.
“Oh…” she rasped and coughed. “Thank you God.”
Coughing and still gasping for breath, she released her magic, or tried to, but it was a struggle. She’d been using it constantly all day. It left her reluctantly, but it did leave, and weariness hammered her flat. She rolled onto her back and gazed at the stars. Tears flooded her eyes; they were so beautiful. She might have died then, but the figure crawling toward her wasn’t a legionnaire bent on revenge. Keverin collapsed besides her, gasping and wheezing.
“They’re beautiful aren’t they,” she croaked from a throat raw from smoke.
“Not as beautiful as you, my lady.”
She instinctively touched what was left of her hair. There was only stubble on one side, the other hung in tangled and melted
snarls. Her own fault for lifting her shield too soon earlier in the day.
“Flatterer.”
Keverin croaked a laugh.
She grasped his hand, and ignoring his startled exclamation, healed him. She needed his strength to get them out alive. Mathius was barely breathing, and she cursed herself for the delay. She quickly healed him too. More tears leaked from her stinging eyes, as she gazed at the stars.
“Here, Julia, drink some of this,” Keverin said.
She let him pour some of the water into her mouth and swallowed. “Gahhh! That’s disgusting,” she wheezed.
“It’s only water.”
“Tastes... the inside... my boots,” she whispered.
“We need to wake Mathius and get out of here.”
“Please... do...” she croaked.
Damn! Her voice was going now. What next?
* * *
58 ~ Rainmaker
Keverin edged forward. “Easy girl easy,” he said as the bedraggled horse edged back from him.
No, you God cursed excuse for a horse!
The mare stopped backing, and he resumed his careful stalk. She was burnt, but not too seriously. Her mane and tail were nothing but stubble. She looked rather strange, but her legs were sound, and that was all Julia needed. Mathius was resting a few yards away holding her in his arms. How he envied the boy his closeness with her.
He forced himself not to despair.
When he’d found her alive, he’d felt like cheering. He hadn’t recognised how badly she needed a healer until she’d fallen unconscious. Beneath the dirt and ash, her cheeks were pale, and her lips were tinged blue. She was dying.
He finally caught the reins, and held on while the flaming beast tried to escape. She lifted him off his feet, and tossed him about, but there was no way he was letting her get away. He would hold on until the mountains turned to dust if he had to! The flaming beast finally got the mad out of her system, and he helped Mathius to mount. He lifted Julia up to him, and they set off again. She looked like a child in the mage’s arms. A hurt child in desperate need.
