They made their way across cornfield and meadow. Before long fresh air rushed against their faces high above inn, village and fields on Gladron’s back.
“Those purses tied to my belt,” Talarren instructed. “Count.”
Razel counted fifteen bronze pieces and one silver in one pouch. A second contained fifteen coppers and two gold. Her eyes lit up. “Where did you get these?” Razel asked.
“Unclaimed purses from that pickpocket,” Talarren said.
They flew in silence till lunch. Talarren resumed his story. “When the people of Raysal-El-Hin saw Tāhūbād’s massing armies, they were afraid. They had much faith in their clerics and spellcasters and held an enormous geographical advantage, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Also, Tāhūbād had planned this campaign meticulously. Moses called for help.
“A roc was despatched to Raja Shrikanth for assistance. Raja agreed to send a small aerial force in form of a dozen of his own rocs and a hundred griffons. Another roc was sent immediately to King Xertes for assistance, and then to Lafarrhine. Raja Shrikanth’s force travelled to Raysal-El-Hin.
“Central Kingdoms and Lafarrhine quickly weighed up their options. Moses could hold out for a long time. His fortress was practically impregnable. Yet it would take two weeks for a fleet to arrive. It would not be too late to send ships, even from Alonçane. Thereupon, a fleet of twenty warships set sail from Alonçane. King Xertes despatched an initial fleet of twelve war galleys with promises of more from Central Kingdom as soon as King Xertes’ messengers convoked a council with other kings.
“Down south, Tāhūbād’s navies sailed toward Octopus Bay. They planned another strike on Raysal-El-Hin’s southern borders, despite their previous disasters against giant squid and octopi. This time, rather than assaulting Rayham Fortress, they targeted Raysal’s north east shore, away from protective underwater caves of the giant octopi. As an added precaution they attached large blades along their ship’s hulls as a defence against giant octopus tentacles.
“Meanwhile, Raysal-El-Hin’s blacksmiths forged six-foot iron cones shaped like arrows. They affixed these heavy cones onto massive cedarwood trunks. If effect, they became enormous spears long as a cedarwood tree. It had never been done before, but neither had they ever faced purple worms before.
“Mugar armies gathered outside Bethendel Fortress. Tāhūbād did not throw his full force against Raysal-El-Hin. At that time, he perceived them to be a bunch of farming hicks with a small, unsophisticated army. He believed his men would take Raysal without too much difficulty, which is another reason he perhaps did not employ his Imperial hippogriff force. Ringing in his ears, though, were insults these worms had uttered against him, passed on by spies and messengers, whose heads were promptly removed from their bodies.
“So Tāhūbād arraigned an army larger than he thought necessary, but, as it turned out, not large enough.
“The frightening display of Mugar cavalry, innumerable as ants, his infantry and archers filled the plains, well out of reach of catapults and trebuchets mounted on battlements, barbicans and towers of Bethendel Fortress.
“To the beat of booming drums and trumpet blasts, defenders witnessed siege engines make their way forward. Most frightening of all were six purple worms, easily seen from that distance. They began burrowing underground at behest of their druid masters. At that point there was no sign of rastamals.
“His first offensive began. Moses himself, leading his roc, led an aerial squadron of rocs into battle. Immediately upon flying over their fortress walls, a massive fireball rose from an enemy shaman. I don’t need to tell you, Razel, that to cast a fireball spell from that distance powerful enough to destroy an animal the size of a roc requires a spellcaster of singular power.
“Clearly, these shamans were ordered to show their might at the earliest opportunity in order to gain a psychological advantage. It was not a wise move. Clerics of Raysal expected this and had already combined their powers, not to dispel this magic, but to reverse it. Again, as you know, this requires enormous power, and needs to be anticipated in advance so correct invocations can be made. This flaming fireball curved around and sped back to its original spellcaster, taking him and other shamans by surprise, showing how arrogant and unprepared they were. This dreadful fireball exploded spectacularly, killing possibly up to one hundred and fifty men including the original spellcaster himself, probably their most powerful.
“So began the assault.
“As rocs circled higher before heading toward their purple worm targets, Bethendel defenders cheered. Their hero surged forward, undaunted, unlike Tāhūbād who remained hidden in his fortress with battle strategists fifty leagues away, expecting imminent victory.
“Rocs rose to a great height. They sped downward, gathering momentum. One after another they released their massive cedarwood spears. The first projectile from Moses struck a purple worm. A gurgling sound erupted as the long wooden shaft sank through the monster’s soft flesh and pinned it to the ground. Don’t forget, a cedarwood trunk is heavy, and dropped from such height and speed makes its power unthinkable. A terrific splash of liquid sprayed out in all directions. The purple worm let out a horrific hissing sound, heard clearly from our defensive battlements. Its massive bulk arched upwards in pain and shock. It writhed around, crushing all who stood beside it, including its druid masters.
“Second, third, fourth and fifth missiles missed their mark. Two plunged into the earth some distance from the worms and stuck there like gigantic arrows from a titan’s bow. Two other missiles skewed upon release. They fell awkwardly, far from their targets, bouncing along like loose beams from a hurricane, wiping out two dozen horses and as many mounted cavalrymen before coming to rest on top of a heap of crushed bodies. A final missile disintegrated in a massive fireball explosion from a shaman spell.
“This ignited a mass of spells and incantations, many dispelled by druids, clerics and magic users on both sides. There were casualties but nothing significant.
“Rocs returned to the fortress. They loaded up more cedarwoods. This became a pattern. Backwards and forwards. Bombardments and retreats.
“Meanwhile, siege engines pulled by giant scorpions finally began their march. Catapults, ballistas, trebuchets, gigantic wooden scaling towers and ladders moved inexorably forward, accompanied by spells of all descriptions, cast against defenders and their fortress. Roc riders became more accurate with their missiles. More and more thudded into soft flesh of purple worms, punching gaping holes in their bodies. Green liquid covered sappers and soldiers nearby. Worms reared up in pain, writhing as missile upon missile pierced their flesh. They rolled this way then that in death throes, horribly squashing their druid masters and dozens of sappers, slaves and soldiers unlucky enough to be standing nearby. Each time their hulking bodies reared, fell and rolled over, another dozen men and horses were killed, covered in slimy green juices.
By mid afternoon not a single purple worm was alive. After one hour of quivering and involuntary flinching each worm lay motionless, pinned by up to a dozen cedarwood shafts through their gargantuan frames, saturating everything nearby in green juices and puddles. All around and under them, sprawled like ungainly infants in their cots, lay crushed horses, slaves, sappers and soldiers.
“When boulders hurled by catapults struck the fortress walls, cheers rang up from Mugar soldiers. They charged forward, many protected from Bethendel arrows by a tactic known as a tortoise - a roof of shields defending the top and circling a band of men. Boulders cast by defending catapults landed mercilessly on top of them, crushing those underneath and breaking their formation.
When invaders’ siege engines positioned themselves before the walls of Bethendel Fortress, a swarm of locusts appeared, summoned by Raysal-El-Hin’s most powerful druids. The swarm grew larger and larger till eventually it hid fortress and banners completely from sight. It was so thick it became a blinding wall, swarming forward like a relentless wave striking faces and eyes of Mugar attackers
, again and again and again, without respite. Slaves pulling on ropes of siege engines dropped everything and covered their faces. Soldiers dropped their weapons and hid behind shields. Horses bucked, unsaddling their riders. Giant scorpions panicked. Their tails flailed wildly; their massive claws snapped vainly at countless locusts crashing up against them, wave upon wave upon wave. They began burrowing underground. The locusts were relentless. They pounded faces, ears, mouths and eyes of everything in their path.
“Cloud and similar indiscriminate spells would affect their own soldiers, so Mugar shamans were reluctant to use them. Clearly, their shamans could not dispel the locust plague. In total disarray, they retreated.
“Bethendel defenders watched their enemy retreat, forced away by relentless locusts. In the aftermath, rocs retrieved their abandoned cedarwood missiles from a deserted battleground, littered with Mugar corpses, weapons and siege engines.
“During the locust plague, an enormous canvas banner was suspended from two parapets. It depicted a particularly insulting image of Tāhūbād involving a goat. When gusts of wind flapped the canvas folds back and forth, Tāhūbād’s caricature was depicted in a grotesque position with this goat. Defenders also hung a large, ludicrous effigy of Tāhūbād from a cedarwood trunk still embedded inside a dead purple worm.
“Mugar siege engines were wheeled inside Bethendel Fortress by horses, which returned to the battlefield to bring in dozens of catapults, trebuchets, scaling ladders and weapons. Tāhūbād’s humiliation had begun.
“Further east, Mugar warships with blades attached to their hulls sailed through Octopus Bay. Ballistas were poised bow and stern, port and starboard. An unknown number of rastamals crouched aboard. Lookouts on crow’s nests kept a keen eye, watching for any sign of movement beneath the surface. Troops on board clasped halberds nervously. These uncharacteristic Mugar weapons allowed thrusting and chopping, ideal for combatting giant octopi. Under Tāhūbād’s naval commanders, they had trained extensively for this moment for years. Expert harpooners stood ready, taut as a spring.
“Cries from a rear warship drew everyone’s attention. Massive tentacles gripped and yanked at the warship’s rigging. More tentacles groped the decks for victims to drag overboard. Halberds thrust and cut, painting decks with bloody ooze. Random warships were suddenly attacked. A whole troupe of octopus flailed out with blue-green tentacles, hurling men into choppy seas, clearing decks with their sweeping swipes. Blades attached to ship’s hulls sliced unsuspecting octopus as they pulled their way onto the ship using masts, rigs and even ballisas as leverage. Some slunk back into blue-green waters nursing their wounds.
“But Mugar sailors had drilled for such attacks. Harpoonists aimed for giant octopus eyes. Two harpoons found their mark, blinding two massive water-beasts who plunged backwards with loud, hissing-type wails amid enormous splashes. A third released an ear-splitting hiss as a harpoon pierced its eye. It went beserk. Its tentacles madly flailed everything in sight. Men ducked and weaved, dived and hacked. Ballistas were released at point-blank range, firing deadly missiles into rubbery skin.
“Rastamals roared. Momentarily, octopi froze, giving soldiers critical moments to manoeuvre themselves for maximum effect, co-ordinating attacks on the stunned octopi’s soft underbellies. Clerics and shamans cast Stun! Kill! and other spells, inflicting further damage. Rastamals flew from warship to warship. Their tails, like a knight’s lance, thudded into octopus heads or bodies, stunning water monsters like nothing they’d experienced before. Their poison took immediate effect, weakening them before they slowly succumbed.
“Rastamals drove their spears into octopus heads. They bit with terrible jaws. They clawed savagely, ripping out chunks of octopus flesh. If an octopus attacked a ship, one or two rastamals bore down on it, their horrid wings flapping furiously. They roared, stunning everything, including octopi. They speared octopus eyes, whipping poisonous stings into their vulnerable undersides, pouncing and tearing at vital organs with diabolical accuracy. Once set upon, octopi slunk back. This is where Mugar blades did most damage. They sliced against octopus bodies as they twisted to avoid rastamals, ballistas or halberds, or dozens of archers loosing arrows as fast as they could from war towers fore and aft.
“At this point, Raysal roc-warriors entered the battle. They used their new aerial strategy with devastating results. As Mugars and rastamals were overpowering octopus on deck, roc flew overhead. They dropped massive boulders, splintering wooden decks with devastating, deafening destruction. The cracking, splintering and crashing noises sounded like a raging thunderstorm. Men, masts and towers collapsed like matchwood under the boulder barrages of a dozen roc who flew back and forth from their hilltops loaded with boulders. They flew too high for enemy ballistas. Shamans and clerics used spells to deflect or destroy as many boulders as possible on their downward plunge.
“One ship after another began to sink.” Satisfaction crept into Talarren’s grey eyes.
“In reply, rastamals raced upwards howling their horrid screams. Their poisons had been exhausted on octopi but their tails were still deadly. Two rastamals targeted one roc as it turned back to shore. They surprised soldiers who felt themselves safe inside the cabin. In tandem, both rastamals flew into the unsuspecting roc’s side at full speed, driving lances into its heart. It faltered in shock and fear, squalling fit to deafen the dead. It plummeted downward, crashing into the sea with a mighty splash, killing every soldier on board.
“A Mugar shaman targeted one of the roc heading toward them carrying massive boulders. From his staff there rose a white ray. It struck its target. The roc shrieked in fear then raced out to sea, despite everything its drivers did. Another roc screeched a warning to its fellows, who turned and spotted two flying rastamal approaching their next victim from behind. Cabin archers loosed their arrows. One struck a rastamal’s arm. Another pierced its wing. A cleric cast a Stun! spell. The rastamal was too shocked from both arrows to resist the spell. It froze, stunned, fuming and helpless as it fell and splatted onto the water below.
“Flying up from a warship, another rastamal howled, sending fear into men, causing them to block their ears. It charged at a roc which tried to weave out of its way. As the rastamal flew underneath the roc, it slashed with deadly claws but missed, dropping its boulder harmlessly into the waters below. The rastamal drove its lance into the roc’s underbelly, quickly followed by a tail strike. The roc shrieked in horror then snapped its beak viciously, tearing a huge gash along the rastamal’s back. It roared in pain, dropping downwards quickly to avoid another beak attack.
“Fortunately for us it dropped directly into the flight path of an oncoming roc, who snapped its horrendous beak with blood-chilling force. The rastamal was cut in two, its separated parts spinning madly in opposite directions till both bloody halves plunged into foaming waters below.
“Raysal defenders on shore got their fires roaring and barrels of oil prepared. Roc were now dropping flaming boulders. These exploded as barrels of oil followed. Pandemonium reigned as ships burst into flames and eventually disintegrated. Mugar sailors jumped overboard to avoid being burned alive only to face enraged giant octopi waiting for them in the water.
“A third and fourth rastamal retreated as five roc sped after them. They dived underwater and were not seen again. Other roc continued to drop boulders. Men were flown overboard on their shattering impact. Mugar ships blazed in a furnace of smoke and fire. Sailors were burnt alive. Others were toyed with by very angry octopi. Those who swam out of danger were sliced to ribbons by claws of low-flying roc. The Battle of Octopus Bay was won in an afternoon. A great victory for Moses Al-Shaddai and his men.”
“What happened to the rastamals?” Razel asked.
“Three died in battle; others escaped. We don’t know what became of them. Undoubtedly they returned to join Tāhūbād’s forces outside Bethendel Fortress.”
“How do you know so much about this war? It sounds like you were there.”
“
I was,” Talarren replied. “After the locust swarm I flew to Octopus Bay. The roc continued to patrol Raysal’s coasts.”
“Then what happened?” Razel asked, spellbound. Her excitement at the prospect of war grew with every word.
“I wouldn’t get too excited,” Talarren warned her. “Tales of battles, exotic creatures and great victories are very different to the real thing.”
“You underestimate me, Talarren,” Razel snapped. “I’m made for adventure, you should know that. It’s in my blood.”
“Aye,” Talarren agreed. “Aye, it is.”
He sculled a few mouthfuls of water and continued. “It took their sorcerers, shamans and druids two days to dispel the locust plaque. By then it had eaten Tāhūbād’s entire food stocks and exterminated their carrier pigeons. When six emissaries approached to sue for terms, Moses himself cast a spell on them and invited them into Bethendel Fortress, spending time with them in a secret chamber with his clerics. He gave each emissary a dagger coated with a deadly poison concocted by Raysal-El-Hin’s most powerful potion makers, then sent them back to Tāhūbād.
In Tāhūbād’s war room, surrounded by shamans, advisors and bodyguards, his emissaries nervously described the insulting banner sprawled across Bethendel’s battlements. They also described their leader’s unflattering effigy and passed him a scroll given by Moses. Tāhūbād flew into a wild rage, but before he ordered his guards to decapitate his emissaries, they shouted, “Tāhūbād is a coward,” and leapt upon him with daggers. Caught unawares, his bodyguards only just managed to protect him, but not before one emissary sunk his dagger into Tāhūbād’s right arm.
Age of Demons_In Search of the Amulet Page 33
