Heirs of the Fallen: Book 03 - Shadow and Steel

by James A. West

  From the leafy darkness, a familiar voice said, “There is no need to borrow a blade, when yours is at hand.”

  “Ulmek?” Leitos gasped. Around him, the Yatoan company moved into aggressive postures, and Leitos flung up a restraining hand. The Yatoans froze, poised to attack.

  The hard-faced Brother emerged from a nearby cluster of brush. Behind him came Sumahan and Daris. All three were burdened with haversacks and as many swords, daggers, and bows as they could carry.

  “I believe this is yours,” Ulmek said, pushing a bundle into Leitos’s hands.

  Leitos pulled the haversack’s straps over his shoulders, then accepted the sword Ba’Sel had presented to him the dawn after his testing. A dagger with a spike-like blade came next, and finally, Ulmek supplied Leitos with the short, double-curved bow Adham had helped him fashion, along with a leather quiver stuffed with arrows.

  While Leitos secured his weapons, Ulmek’s eyes widened at the sight of Belina. When his gaze shifted to Nola, his mouth fell open, and he danced back with a curse. “How can this be?”

  His sword seemed to spring into his hand, and the Yatoans surged forward in response. By the thinnest of margins, Leitos managed to convince them to hold fast.

  “She is not who you think,” he said in a rush.

  Ulmek went still, as Sumahn and Daris spread around him in a protective fan. He thrust his face forward. “She could be Zera, as I first knew her.”

  Nola and Belina went rigid, and Damoc looked as if he had swallowed a stone. “How do you know that name?” the elder demanded.

  “My brethren and I took Zera in. We trained her. At one time, she was one of us.” His dark eyes cut toward Leitos. “Then she betrayed us.”

  “She is alive?” Belina breathed.

  Still looking at Leitos, Ulmek shook his head. “No, she is not.”

  “How did my sister die? When?” Belina asked. If not for Damoc’s arm blocking her path, she might have leaped at Ulmek.

  My mother and eldest sister were the last in our clan to be returned. Icy sweat sprang from Leitos’s pores at the memory of Belina’s words. Twice, now, he had witnessed that volatile reaction to Zera’s name. He glanced at Nola. Eldest sister … my sister.… Sisters. He should have guessed it before now. He swallowed, dryly, wondering how they would react if they knew he killed Zera?

  Ulmek looked between Belina and Nola, to Leitos, and finally Damoc. “We can speak of that matter at another time.”

  Leitos let out a slow breath.

  “Agreed,” Damoc said stiffly, as if that were the last thing he ever wanted to discuss. “For now, we must concentrate on destroying the Fauthians. This night, our oppressors will pay for their crimes against us.”

  Ulmek grinned darkly. “I must say, Leitos, I grow rather fond of your new friends. As such,” he said, looking to Damoc, “I warn you that attacking this city will not be so easy as you think—but then, what joy ever comes from a simple task?”

  Chapter 33

  “Bring him,” Adu’lin called from the chamber.

  “I am ready,” Ba’Sel said agreeably, by now caught fully in the throes of his madness.

  Within the first few moments after they had taken Halan away, the big man’s screams ended. So it had been for all the Brothers. Adham could not guess what horrors they had faced, or if they yet drew breath, but he did not intend to become one of them.

  The guard came forward. There was no fear in his posture, no caution whatsoever. He smirked when he glanced at Adham. For show, Adham cringed away. The guard turned to haul Ba’Sel to his feet.

  Adham leaped up, wrapped an arm around the guard’s neck, and rammed a knee against his spine, driving him forward. They crashed to the stone floor, and Adham reared back until the Fauthian’s spine crackled. Adham pulled harder, tightening his grip, and the guard died with a shudder.

  “Bring him!” Adu’lin shouted, now sounding impatient.

  Adham drew the guard’s sword. Preparing to free Ba’Sel, he heard Adu’lin’s approaching footsteps.

  “Spring is such a beautiful time, don’t you think?” Ba’Sel asked.

  Adham did not waste breath answering the senseless question, but instead slashed the man’s bindings, and then tore off his blindfold. “Can you stand?”

  Ba’Sel blinked owlishly. “This is not my village, not Salgo.… What is this place?” His black eyes grew wide, and he flinched when he looked to Adham. “Where am I, and … who are you?”

  “You are in danger, and I am a friend,” Adham snarled, unable to hide his frustration. “If you want to live, we must flee.”

  “Orest, what is taking so long?” Adu’lin sounded one step beyond the threshold, and coming closer.

  Adham caught Ba’Sel’s shoulder, and began pulling him to the door Ulmek and the others had used to escape.

  Ba’Sel gave a terrified squawk and jerked free. “I do not know you!” he shrieked. “Do not touch me!”

  At a sharp curse, Adham spun to find Adu’lin glaring at him.

  “I grow weary of your mischief, Izutarian,” the Fauthian said. He made no attempt to produce a weapon. “So weary, in truth, that I can no longer see the benefit of keeping you alive.”

  “So be it,” Adham growled, and charged.

  Adu’lin’s assuredness broke under Adham’s battle cry. He wheeled and disappeared into the gloom beyond the doorway. Adham followed.

  Two paces into the next chamber, Adham slid to a halt. In the darkness beyond the doorway, many pairs of silvery eyes glimmered from the silhouetted heads of men, telling him they were men no more.

  The Brothers, men he counted as friends, had been forcibly possessed by Mahk’lar. Those unblinking gazes turned his way. More shapes, malformed and hideous, flitted behind the Brothers, seeking living bodies to take for their own, if only for a short time before their presence destroyed or changed that flesh.

  “Kill him,” Adu’lin cried. “Kill them both!”

  The shadowed Mahk’lar host and the possessed Brothers moved as one. Adham whirled and ran.

  When he returned to the hall, he discovered that Ba’Sel had fled. Cursing, he debated only half a moment before deciding that Ba’Sel, in all his demented madness, would have to fend for himself. Leitos was lost, and when the choice lay between his son and a madman, Adham saw no choice.

  He sprinted from the hall, the Fauthian long sword in his hand ready to cleave the spirit from any enemy who came between him and escape.

  Rounding a corner, he met a startled guard. The Fauthian recoiled, instinctively raising his spear. Without slowing, Adham lopped off the burnished tip, spun in a flashing circle, and sent the snaky bastard’s head rolling.

  Before the thrashing corpse struck the floor, Adham was off again, seeking a door or window, any portal he could use to get into the open.

  When he saw the broad double doors at the end of a branching corridor, he knew he had found what he sought. As soon as he turned, a pair of Fauthians moved into view.

  Bellowing like a madman, Adham snatched a torch from an iron sconce, and flew into the midst of his enemies. The first fell with a garbled screech, sliced groin to sternum. The next warrior blanched and backed away. Adham pursued, alternating his attacks with torch and sword. The guard fended off the initial strike with his spear, but Adham made quick work of reducing the weapon to kindling. The Fauthian tried to ward against a last blow, but Adham thrust the torch through his weak defense, jabbing the sputtering flames against his face. The Fauthian screamed, and Adham ran him through, then batted him aside.

  He flung up an iron locking bar, and thrust the doors open. Expecting to meet resistance, he was surprised to find none. The first hint of the coming dawn showed as a gray aura over the eastern mountains. He headed that way at a sprint, and rapidly escaped the palace grounds.

  Wanting to distance himself from Adu’lin’s horde, he kept to that street until he came to an intersection. Taking the one bearing off to the east, he ran at a slower pace.

/>   A few more twists and turns led him to a great square with a central fountain fashioned into a horror of scales and coiled limbs. Given the Fauthian alliance with the Mahk’lar, he now understood their appreciation for such grotesque works.

  Going slower now, he kept to shadows and what cover he could find. Alleys served well to keep him hidden from any searching eyes. In zigzag fashion, he discovered that, despite its level appearance, the city had a slight upward tilt. By the time he reached the city wall, he had a fair vantage point from which to survey the way he had come.

  Hidden deep within the lingering darkness of a wall, careful to make no sudden movements, Adham straightened to his full height. Under a brightening sky, he searched for but saw no followers. He knew they were there, somewhere, stalking him.

  Turning the other way, Adham froze.

  Across the southern tip of Armala, beyond a tall watchtower, he saw two men standing on the wall. One faced inward, a bow held at full draw. Another bowman looked outward. By their proportions, they could not be Fauthians.

  He waited, unsure what they were up to. His answer came a moment later.

  Between the two figures, another man stood up and moved off to one side. In rapid succession, a score of warriors had mounted the wall, all armed with bows, and all seemingly intent on making sure no one within the city could launch a surprise attack.

  Yatoans, he thought sure, and wondered if they would accept him into their ranks, or kill him outright.

  He had decided to give them a wide berth, when another figure stood up. Adham’s heart began hammering. Even at a distance, and without clear sight of his face, Adham knew he gazed upon his son. Briefly it crossed his mind that Leitos might be a captive of the bloodthirsty Yatoans, but Adham did not think so.

  A surreptitious movement drew Adham’s eye back toward the heart of the city. Though still some distance off, Adu’lin’s forces crept toward the Yatoans. Fauthians came bearing longbows; Mahk’lar wove through and around buildings, shapeless fiends of oily black smoke; the forsaken Brothers of the Crimson Shield marched stiffly, with swords and bows at the ready. He spied yet another group of men, who scampered with an odd rolling gait. Kelrens. Adham had forgotten all about them, after the Brothers gave them into Adu’lin’s hands.

  Knowing time was short, but knowing also that he must determine Adu’lin’s strategy if he were to be of any help at all, Adham continued his survey. In doing so, he saw a sight that chilled his flesh. Mingled throughout the advancing force strode dozens of Alon’mahk’lar, their heads turning to show the outlines of curving horns.

  By now, the advancing force had spread out in a large half-moon circle, with one end anchoring at the western watchtower, and the loose end swinging around to the tower nearest Adham. The Fauthian element, some two score, broke from the main body and began vanishing into the watchtowers and the tallest buildings, those that would provide the best places from which to rain down arrows upon the Yatoans—

  And my son! With that thought, Adham was off and running. He gave no thought to strategy or avoidance. There was little even the hardest, most skilled soldiers could do against such an overwhelming force, save retreat. But before the Yatoans could know that was their only choice, Adham had to deliver the warning. And to do that, he had to break through a line of inhuman warriors that knew not fear or remorse, but only a hunger for death and blood.

  Chapter 34

  Feeling exposed atop the city wall under the brightening dawn, Leitos searched Armala. Shadows lingered, made sharper and deeper by the rising sun, but otherwise all lay still and quiet. A flicker caught his eye, and he glanced at the same watchtower he had climbed before escaping the city. Its upper windows stood empty.

  “They are out there,” Ulmek promised. “Somewhere, they wait.”

  “You think we are walking into a trap?” Leitos asked, keeping his voice down.

  “All battlefields are littered with traps.”

  Leitos put that aside in favor of another question. “Why did Adu’lin capture you and the others?”

  Ulmek shrugged. “I do not know, but considering the way he plied us with that fruit wine, it must have always been his intention.”

  “And my father?” Leitos asked. He had kept that concern to himself, until now.

  “It was Adham who set us free.”

  Leitos felt a tingle of pride, but worry outweighed it. “So Adu’lin still has him?”

  “I cannot see how it would be otherwise. But if any man of us could find the wherewithal to escape, it would be Adham. A pity we do not have a thousand such warriors within our order.”

  Leitos nodded mutely, wondering if a thousand Izutarians remained in all the world. That idea made him feel alone, isolated, a man without a people or a land.

  “Within the hour, Armala will be ours, and our longtime enemies will be crushed.” Damoc announced, after the last of the Yatoans had scaled the wall. He stood tall, seemingly unconcerned about watchers. His daughters mimicked his stance, as did all the Yatoans.

  “I would suggest we take cover immediately,” Ulmek said.

  “Neither I nor my people fear anything that hides within this city. Long have we prepared for this day, and we will not come slinking like whining curs, but as conquerors. Let the Fauthians see our approach, and tremble!” Damoc finished with a shout, earning a hearty cheer.

  “Do not let your confidence betray your judgment,” Ulmek cautioned. “If it has not yet entered your mind, consider that this breach has been too easy. Such tells me to beware.”

  “If you do not wish to risk your skin,” Damoc said, “feel free to leave us.”

  “You speak to no coward,” Ulmek bristled. “And neither are my men afraid to die this day—but not needlessly. I tell you once more, you need to go forward with your eyes and ears open.”

  “In open battle, the Fauthians are weak,” Damoc scoffed. “And the Kelrens they will set against us are few.”

  “If the Fauthians are so weak, how have they subdued your people so long?” Ulmek asked, not bothering to disguise his scorn.

  Damoc rounded on the stone-faced Brother. “My forefathers mistook them for blessed beings, gods among men. It is a mistake I once shared. No more. This day, the Fauthians will be scoured from memory!”

  Another cheer went up, along with the brandishing of bows and swords. Belina gave Leitos an unreadable look, but he sensed her apprehension. Nola seemed no less hesitant than her father.

  “So you mean to march straight into the heart of the city,” Ulmek asked with a mystified snort. “That is your plan?”

  “My only strategy is to chop the Fauthians into stew meat,” Damoc boasted. “After that, I mean to break my fast on the fare of my oppressors. The sooner done, the better, for I grow hungry.” Damoc clapped hands with his warriors, celebrating as if the battle had already been won.

  Ulmek cast Leitos a sideways look. “This fool will may well win the day—Pa’amadin, on occasion, will favor idiots with a bit of luck—but after that you and I, along with Sumahn and Daris, and all the Brothers we can free, will leave these Yatoans to their fate, and make for the shore we landed upon.”

  Leitos glanced at Belina, and Ulmek caught his arm, drawing his attention. “We cannot be divided on this. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Leitos answered reluctantly.

  “We will attack in three separate lines,” Damoc was saying to his attentive warriors. “Do not stop until every Fauthian and Kelren is dead. And trust that whoever finds Adu’lin and brings him to me alive, will be well rewarded.”

  Sumahn and Daris had come closer to Ulmek and Leitos, and Sumahn shook his head. “We should just leave them, here and now. We know where Ba’Sel and the others are being held, and should go to them straight away, and then—”

  “What is that?” Daris interrupted, pointing toward the east. Four heads turned to observe a man running in their direction, frantically waving a Fauthian sword overhead. A shout drifted across the distance, and thou
gh the words were indistinguishable, the voice was not.

  “My father!” Leitos cried. He jumped to his feet, as the Yatoans spun to peer at the closing figure. Those with bows nocked arrows, and made ready to fire.

  “Hold, damn you!” Ulmek growled. “He is one of us.”

  “Perhaps he was,” Damoc said tensely, “but we do not know if he is now in league with Adu’lin. Feather him.”

  “No!” Leitos shouted.

  Closer now, Adham’s voice pierced the morning quiet, but was still indistinct.

  Head cocked, Sumahn’s eyes suddenly went round. “Ambush. He said ambush!”

  Damoc looked over his shoulder, doubt written over his features. “I did not hear that.”

  “Then you are as deaf as you are stupid,” Sumahn snapped, nocking his own arrow and aiming it at the elder. “Tell your people to hold, or I’ll stick a feather in your throat.”

  “Treacherous dog!” Damoc roared. Nola joined him, sword poised, green eyes afire. Belina shook her head and backed away. Those Yatoan bowmen closest by, abruptly turned their arrows on the four Brothers.

  Where relative calm had held, now confusion reigned on the wall. Ulmek began shouting furiously, and Daris joined Sumahn in bending his bow. Leitos counted at least half a dozen arrowheads aimed directly at his chest. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape.

  Belina moved between Leitos and her people. “Stop! To kill him, is to destroy hope for us!”

  Spittle flying off his lips, Damoc raged, “I’ve heard enough about your accursed visions, girl. Stand aside.”

  “I will not. If you kill him, then you might as well kill me, and all the rest of us.”

  “Heed me, daughter, or by the gods of old I will—”