Tanza

by Amanda Greenslade

  ‘You will take down this Zeika legion,’ Queen Em said to both Tyba and I. With a glance at Strategist Ervan, she emphasised to Tyba, ‘You must also secure their supplies and bring them back here.’

  ‘May Krii light our path,’ Tyba intoned.

  ‘And Krii go with you,’ Crystom replied.

  Chapter Twenty-four—Summoners

  We spent the rest of that day meeting with the strike force and the squadron leaders, drawing up plans for the coming battle. My imprinted knowledge of the area around Condii proved very useful. Many of the squadron leaders had grown up in this area of Tanza and knew the lay of the land. I would have felt useless to the discussions if it hadn’t been for the two Rada-kin who’d shared their knowledge with me.

  Naltoch nodded to me from his perch on Jett’s shoulder. As a local from Condii, he had made an effort to share his knowledge of the city and surrounding areas with all the foreign Anzaii. There were eleven Anzaii left in the strike force and only five of them knew Condii from past experience. Like me, the others had all received imprinting from Naltoch, Kotor and other local Rada-kin.

  Even with this knowledge, I had little experience coordinating a battle so I relied on my sense of logic as well as Ciera’s guidance during the discussions. My Sleffion-kin stood at my side while Tyba laid out his plans on the table. The king and queen were resting in their chambers, completely trusting their son to carry out their orders. I marvelled at such closeness and confidence in their relationship.

  Tyba had chosen a specific pocket of woodland that was sheltered on one side by one of the immense tree-covered tors that characterised the area. It was open on the other side, but featured a series of hummocks and crevices where hundreds of footsoldiers could wait in ambush.

  Further up the hill was an overhang of grey stone where counters and strategists could gather to watch the battle and give their advice to us mid-battle. They could also see the road to the south from that position.

  By the next morning just about all 10,000 of the Defender warriors in our battalion were positioned around the area. Squadrons of between ten and fifty scout-hunters soared in the air above us, with many more to the east, preventing Zeika scouts from perceiving exactly where we were. A group of only a few hundred Zeikas on dragons were the first to come upon our spot.

  As soon as they saw the first Tanzan army at the top of the hill, two of them aboutfaced and shot away from our position. The rest hovered in defiance of our hunters, tempting them to leave their designated places. Instead of allowing them to pursue, Tyba gestured for me to lead the strike force forward. With my fellow Anzaii positioned beside me and all their kin and guardians behind, I strode into battle.

  I carried Fyschs and a crossbow, but I spent most of my time using my Anzaii abilities.

  Under our barrage of dispelling, entrapping and confusing, the remaining dragons were fragmented. With a hold on two dragons at once, I used them to pummel Zeikas who were throwing flame balls in our general direction. Not a single Tanzan died in the skirmish and all but five or six Zeikas were slain. We were not loath to let the survivors go; if they made it back to their commanders and reported only the numbers they had seen, the main army would come.

  Ciera and I flew a lap around the valley, roaring our triumph. Aunt Jaalta was seated on the battle-seat behind me. This battle was very difficult for her, being one of the first since Reen was killed. Despite that, she and I had been at the forefront of the skirmish. I was wearing the Jarian belt and Jaalta was holding the Centan shield. We used our combined might on the waves to easily overpower the Zeikas’ conjurations. A dozen guardian spear-skyearls trailed us, each equipped with the finest Condiite skyearl-armour.

  From so high up, I could clearly see how Tyba’s battle-plans would come into effect. Nearly half of the army was hidden in the pocket of woodland at the foot of the enormous karst tower. In front of them were at least twenty smaller groups of only a few hundred warriors. These were scattered over the top of the valley. Thousands more were positioned at the top of each of the three valleys in the area. Each line of Defenders could reach beyond the next to strike at oncoming Zeikas with arrow and ballista fire if necessary.

  Tyba and Amadeus waited on a pile of rocks between the two northern-most valleys, scanning the terrain intently. The prince gestured to the south west. Jaalta, Tiaro and I perceived that scouts had sighted the main Zeika army, and soon Ciera and I could see a dust cloud. As expected, the Zeikas were taking the opportunity to wipe out our enticingly smaller force.

  The first Zeikas to arrive were mounted on dragons. They didn’t even bother to wait for the rest of the army, flying straight into the northern valley. About a thousand Defender warriors engaged them there in a sky-battle that left me speechless.

  Against the backdrop of green grass and granite boulders, the black and fiery dragons swarmed. Met by furred skyearls of every colour, shape and size, there was a tremendous uproar across the normally tranquil area. The skyearls grappled with the tyraks, snarling and using teeth and claws to get at the thick black hides. The human riders concentrated on each other—Tanzans had to duck incoming blasts of fire and counterattack with arrows. Sometimes a Tanzan would get close enough to slice a Zeika with their sword, but those with projectile weapons were better equipped to reach their enemies.

  Ciera was standing on a shroud high above the battle with Jaalta and I on his back. The rest of the strike force waited behind us, the skyearls resting on the shroud, but ready to fly in an instant. Every now and then a few of us swooped down so that we could get close to a conjuration and dispel it. We watched as waves of archery skyearls looped the valley, raining arrows upon the Zeikas.

  There were groups of dragons and Zeikas whose specialty seemed to be anti-archery. They carried red-painted, beaten-metal shields and long curved machetes. Numbering in the hundreds, these groups would fly directly at an archery squadron and, if it managed to catch them, fight at close range. Bodies began to pile up around the valley. Sometimes the slain fell on hapless victims below. Footsoldiers and Rada-kin fought bravely against Zeika ground troops, but most were unable to stand against the flames of the enemy.

  I itched to fly down there and help them, but it was important to hold the strike force back for the main Zeika army.

  ‘We must wait,’ I said, trying to justify to myself why we couldn’t help the Tanzans on the ground.

  As more of the Zeika army arrived, their ground troops slowly advanced up the northern valley. Even though our warriors put down wave after wave with their spears and arrows, more poured in from the west.

  From the safety of his vantage point, Tyba gave the signal for those at the northern valley to fall back towards the woodland. It was there that the main part of our army could offer some cover fire. It was too soon, yet, to bring them out of hiding. We did not want this Zeika army to flee and rejoin more of their comrades later in an overwhelming force. Our strategy was to use their arrogance and quest for glory to destroy them.

  Behind us, more Zeika forces were sweeping into the other two valleys. Met by our waiting forces of some 1,500 each, the enemy was kept busy on all fronts. I saw Zeikas burning Tanzans where they stood, sending their conjured monsters at others, and some clashing weapons. I saw one Zeika stripping an injured Tanzan naked.

  ‘We must help that woman,’ I said to Ciera and Tiaro, pointing.

  ‘Send Jett,’ Tiaro suggested. ‘You are needed here. It’s nearly time to lead the strike force into battle.’

  ‘You must not send anyone,’ Ciera countered sadly. ‘This is a known tactic. The Zeikas want us to fly behind their lines to help people being raped. That is why the Zeika commanders allow their troops to engage in such disgusting behaviour. Look how many enemies are in that area, and how few Tanzans. Anyone who tries to rescue that woman will be slain. We must choose the battles we can win.’

  I felt sick at not being able to do anything to help the Tanzan woman. I forced my eyes away, across the field of battle
, peering between all the struggling creatures in the sky to see where Tyba was standing. It was a good thing I was using the waves to communicate because my teeth were so tightly clenched I probably wouldn’t have been able to speak.

  ‘Now, my prince?’ I asked him.

  He turned to my presence in his mind and was able to reply, ‘Yes, Talon. You have my leave to engage the enemy, but make sure the strike force doesn’t scatter too far. Stick with the plan.’

  ‘Now!’ I shouted. The strike force kindred passed on my command through the waves.

  My people dived off the shroud, each Anzaii and their skyearl followed closely by a cluster of guardians. Ciera delivered Jaalta and I to a large group of skyearls and dragons fighting in the skies nearby. As soon as I had the opportunity, I entrapped a tyrak and sent it straight for the rapist. I had a glimpse of the thankful woman’s face before turning the tyrak away to crash into another group of Zeikas.

  ‘Our thanks, Specialist,’ said the woman’s Rada-kin.

  I could not spare the time to gain their names. Jaalta and I were surrounded by combat. We stretched out our hands and minds to entrap and confuse conjuration after conjuration.

  Our guardians fought to keep masses of dragons at bay. Amril and Jett flew behind Ciera on their Sleffion-kin, fighting back whenever a Zeika strayed close enough to become a threat to Jaalta and me.

  I was forced to dispel dragons several times to prevent them from overwhelming our protectors. The tyraks shrieked angrily as I ripped them from the world—any Zeikas on their backs fell screaming to their deaths.

  To the south west, crowds of Zeikas were setting up a camp, complete with a mess hall and healer tents, obviously expecting to be here a while. Our own respite area was hidden in the foothills of the naturally-formed karst tower, with some healing tents even up on the cliff-face.

  ‘Talon, look to the west,’ Jaalta said.

  In the direction she pointed was a line of Zeikas on gold litters borne by dozens of slaves. Each of the Zeikas was dressed in gold and green battle raiment and wore an elaborate head-piece extending up from the back to a hand-span above the head. Symbols were etched into the gold plating.

  ‘Summoners!’ Jaalta cried out through the waves.

  Both Tyba and Amadeus received her mental cry. With the Centan shield in her possession, Jaalta’s voice on the waves was amplified so much that anyone in the valley who was listening could have heard her. Images flashed through Jaalta’s mind and she shared them openly with me. Monsters of great variation appeared before my mind’s eye.

  Jaalta had seen her fair share of summoned creatures. Different to conjurations, these were demons brought into our world temporarily. There were shadowy cloaked apparitions, gigantic lizard-like monsters and other horned or winged beasts of all kinds. Still more dangerous were those of spectacular beauty and power, summoned only by the most advanced Zeikas.

  ‘The likes of which I have never defeated…’ she said, referring to this last kind. The crushing of her throat came unbidden to her mind. It was only thanks to her Sleffion-kin Reen that she had survived at all. And now he was dead.

  I winced at her terrible pain. She squeezed me from behind. Realising our concentration had lapsed, Jaalta made an effort to hold in her grief. I refocused on the line of Zeikas.

  On the rocks before them was a towering black being with a man-like torso, bear-like head with long pointed red horns, a lupine tail, grasping black claws and hoofed feet. A mane of liquid black fell in a straight line down the back of its neck, travelling all the way to the tip of its tail.

  Other Zeikas nearby bent prostrate before the demon, worshipping it. The summoners, however, remained seated on their litters, idly playing with fireballs on their fingertips. They seemed to be watching the summoned creature as a strict parent might watch a child, just waiting for it to do something wrong.

  The demon’s breathing was audible even from this distance. It nearly matched Ciera in height, and enormous bulbous muscles were visible along its chest, arms and legs.

  ‘Gather the Anzaii together,’ Amadeus instructed me.

  I contacted them one by one to let them know we needed to regroup. It seemed to take an eternity to free them all up from the battles they were engaged in, even though it was only about fifteen minutes. Of the eleven Anzaii I had set out with, nine remained alive. The guardians had suffered far heavier losses, but in total I counted about forty in the strike force.

  The demon advanced on the field of battle looking left and right and snorting its tiny, flat nostrils. Because of its uniform black colour, it was difficult to discern exactly what it was doing from a distance.

  The Tanzan ground troops fled, looking to us for support. This was what the strike force had been held back from battle for. Only we could stand against such a creature.

  The demon chased the ground troops, snatching-up people and skyearls with ease and breaking them over its knees. Bodies were spread in its wake. None moved again.

  ‘Anzaii to us!’ Jaalta called through the waves. In one deafening wave-shout she was able to reach them all. Amazing! I revelled.

  All of the skyearls bearing Anzaii formed up beside us. Some of them hadn’t been part of the strike force, but were joining us now.

  ‘We hold two Anzaii artefacts,’ Jaalta declared to them all. ‘As with the Ancient Sapphire Tree in the Dome of Gathering, we can use them to augment our effects on the waves.’

  ‘For the win!’ Ciera roared.

  His arm was hurting badly due to the strain of flying, but he was confident nonetheless.

  As we started to descend on the creature, hundreds of dragons swarmed upon us. Ciera narrowly avoided the demon’s sweeping claws, spiralling down past it and snapping at one leg. His teeth barely grazed the demon’s flesh before we were lurching wildly upwards, the ground just a few paces away. I shot a Zeika on the back of his dragon with the crossbow. Three more filled his space, striking at Jaalta and I with spears and firing poisoned arrows.

  Just when it seemed the strike force would be overwhelmed, four squadrons of spear-skyearls converged on our position. Winged bodies smashed together overhead and beneath us.

  The sounds and smells of violence and death overwhelmed me, both in the waves and in the natural world. The demon rampaged below us, slaying all within its reach easily. Whenever I tried to focus on it, even using the Jarian belt, it slid away through the waves like oil.

  Tyba and Amadeus would be dismayed by the destruction the black demon was visiting upon their ground troops. I have to stop it.

  ‘Get them out of there,’ Amadeus relayed to the squadron leader on the ground.

  ‘What can we do to it in the waves?’ I struggled to ask Tiaro and Jaalta.

  ‘It should be much the same as dealing with a conjuration,’ Tiaro said, ‘except this creature has a soul and will fight back in the waves.’

  I cringed; dispelling or taking control of conjurations was difficult enough. Now we would have a fully summoned demon fighting against us in the real world and in the waves.

  ‘Remember that it is Krii who fights for us,’ Tiaro said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Jaalta replied, touching Galtoro, her own Anzaiikin. The Centan shield was fastened to her leg so it couldn’t fall or be dropped.

  ‘Ciera,’ I called through the waves, ‘fly us closer to the demon so we can try to dispel it.’

  He tried, but every time we got close, more dragons would drive us back. The demon itself ignored us. It seemed intent on killing as many ordinary warriors and skyearls as it could. Like me, the rest of the skyearl-mounted Anzaii could not get close to it. After dozens of unsuccessful passes, I lead the strike force north east away from the battle. Feelings of shock and abandonment rose off the Tanzans who were fleeing below us.

  ‘We will come back,’ Jaalta reassured them collectively. ‘But we can’t get close enough to the demon while on the backs of our skyearls. The dragons are all over us. We will have to approach it on foot and ho
pe the Zeikas do not recognise us.’

  It wasn’t possible for the humans to reply to Jaalta’s broadwave, but with so many kin about we soon got impressions of how the Defender warriors were feeling. They were afraid, but steadfast. Most of them showed overwhelming support towards Jaalta—for the first time in most of their lives, an Anzaii could communicate with them en masse. It brought a sudden leap forward in the way the army was run and I knew that Jaalta must be protected at all costs. Tyba clearly thought so too, for he had personally instructed our guardians not to stray from us.

  I connected with the squadron leader coordinating the retreat, a Sleffion Tolite woman named Avinel. She demanded, ‘Have you taken leave of your senses, Astor? Approach it on foot?’

  ‘We have to try,’ I responded.

  ‘Don’t get yourselves killed,’ Avinel responded. ‘We need you.’

  I broke contact with her, wondering if Ciera and I should deposit Jaalta out of harm’s way before attempting to fight the demon.

  ‘We need her,’ Tiaro said.

  ‘But Tyba needs her more,’ I argued. ‘To coordinate this battle. Look at all the guards he’s sent with us—’

  ‘It is your life that Tyba guards so carefully as well.’

  ‘I cannot wave-speak other humans en masse,’ I replied, including Jaalta in my waves, ‘even with the help of the artefacts. I don’t know how Jaalta is doing it.’

  ‘I have read about broadwaving in scrolls by the Anzaii of old,’ my aunt told me. ‘It requires you to turn everything you’ve ever learned about the waves on its head. Instead of targeting one or a few of your trusted kin, you send it out like a ripple in a pond for anyone listening to hear.’

  I shook my head when I was still not able to do it.

  ‘There is time to learn,’ Jaalta said. ‘I will lend you my scrolls.’

  I made no reply. Reading was just about the last thing I could imagine myself doing any time soon.

  Chapter Twenty-five—A spiritual battle