Is This Apocalypse Necessary

Home > Science > Is This Apocalypse Necessary > Page 31
Is This Apocalypse Necessary Page 31

by C. Dale Brittain


  I hugged her, weak with relief as well as exhaustion. "Then as long as you're here, could you help Antonia and me shift the rest of these?" which really meant, help Antonia. "And for God's sake, stay back out of their way!"

  In a few minutes we had finished moving the last one. Antonia told me she had checked, and none of the others were showing any signs of life. I was too tired to do anything but take her word for it. "First thing in the morning," I said, "we will give them life, and we'd all better hope they charge in the right direction."

  There was a murmur behind us, and I turned to see, picking their way through the tents by torchlight, King Paul, accompanied by the bishop.

  The bishop! For a moment I was too delighted to do anything but gape. Joachim had been my best friend for years, even before I met Theodora, and when I decided to oppose Elerius it had been with the bitter knowledge that I might never see him again. And though he might never know it, according to Saint Eusebius it had been in part the bishop's prayers that had brought the saint to the castle just in time to save Elerius's soul and my life. "Good to see you, Joachim," I said, too overcome to be able to produce anything beyond a platitude.

  But he, much less disconcerted than I, stepped forward and seized me in a hard embrace. "Thank God we are together again!" he said. "Don't ever pretend to die again, Daimbert, without first warning me!"

  "I've tried to tell him the same thing," said Theodora.

  "And you," he said to her with a smile, "don't leave the cathedral again without warning me either. One minute you and Antonia were safely under the Church's protection, and the next I knew one of my priests told me you had gone running out and were seen flying away in the skin of a purple winged creature!"

  "We had to come help him," said Antonia. "Do you see all those warriors over there? I put them there myself!"

  The bishop contemplated them thoughtfully. Arms upraised, mud and weed stuck all over their thick bodies, they waited for the command to attack and kill. Joachim was going to chide me for making creatures of war, for presuming on the creative powers of God. I just knew it.

  But when he turned toward me again, deep eyes shadowed from the firelight, it was to say, "So was it to learn the secret of making these that you disappeared?" I looked for a frown and it wasn't there. Instead he was smiling again. Some time, I thought, I might have to explain to the bishop that just because he liked and respected me, he didn't have to assume that everything I did was for an excellent reason.

  But not now. "Well, in some ways they were an afterthought—" I started to say. First I had been going to use the Dragons' Sceptre against Elerius, then the Ifrit, and dragons' teeth had been my fallback position when nothing else worked. But it was too complicated, and I was too tired. "Yes, they represent my secret plan."

  "And Elerius will be very surprised in the morning!" added Antonia.

  "Could you shrive us all at dawn, Father, before we go into battle?" Paul asked quietly.

  We started walking slowly back into the center of camp. One of the knights from Yurt hurried up to say that a tent had been made ready for the bishop. Had he ridden here alone, I wondered, without any of the priests and soldiers who were supposed to accompany a bishop everywhere? I would ask him in the morning.

  But all the plans for what we would do in the morning were wrong.

  Suddenly there was a shout behind us, and exhausted as I was I spun around, fearing to see my soldiers springing to life and running wildly across the trampled earth.

  It was worse. Elerius hadn't waited until morning. His own unliving warriors were upon us now.

  Part Nine:

  The Princess

  I

  Trumpets sounded behind me in the camp, and men poured out of the tents, falling over each other as they scrambled into their armor. Shouting, clanging, trying to find their fellows by torch light when sleep still lay in their eyes, the armies of the west prepared for battle. The war cries of a dozen kingdoms rose above the tumult.

  Elerius's unliving warriors, which I had last seen on a deserted island offshore from the great City, marched toward the camp. They were made of hair and dead bones, and their only features were their glowing eyes. Ungovernable and violent as when Elerius first made them, they were only a hundred yards away and moving inexorably toward us.

  What was that spell of Basil's? And where was his book? In my pocket? In the air cart? Able to see nothing but those advancing warriors, I wildly slapped my pockets, found the book, realized it was going to be impossible to read Basil's handwriting by torch light if I couldn't stop shaking, yelled for Whitey and Chin—

  And heard a voice speaking next to me, words almost but not quite the Hidden Language that I knew. At those words, all the dragons' teeth warriors began to twitch.

  Maffi stood beside me, concentrating hard on creatures made with no magic he had ever learned and giving them movement. All but the one that Theodora had bound spread their arms and stamped, but they made no move to attack. Maffi added another spell, which made the creatures whirl their arms wildly but still stay where Antonia had put them.

  I blinked and was suddenly calm again. The sound of Maffi's words had nudged my panic-stricken brain. If Elerius had carefully created his warriors without the use of school magic, so that they could advance across the deserted fields where he had stopped all school spells, then Basil's spells should work here as well. I rattled off his activating spell, and the dragons' teeth surged into motion.

  A war cry came almost in my ear, and I whirled. King Paul, riding his stallion, had gathered the cavalry around him. Horses reared, and drawn swords flashed in the firelight. In a remarkably short time, the knights of the western kingdoms had armed and were ready to face whatever Elerius sent toward us.

  "No! Wait!" I cried. "Sire, listen to me! Don't charge— not yet!"

  I couldn't see the king's face behind his helmet, but he pulled up his stallion at once. "Daimbert prepares the way for us!" he yelled over his shoulder. "Wait for Daimbert's signal!"

  That wasn't exactly what I meant, but at least they stopped, the sweating horses jostling each other, as Paul's command was shouted back rank by rank through the army.

  My warriors—with one exception—were off with Basil's spell, heading without anger or fear, only emotionless violence, toward the monsters Elerius had made. Theodora said something, and the last of my warriors, freed of her binding spell, sprang after the rest. Thuds, dull clangs, and scrapes marked the meeting of forces, but creatures without mouths cannot shout.

  "My spells for automatons work but poorly on these creatures," commented Maffi in disappointment.

  Better than anything of mine worked when my brain wasn't functioning at all. "Thank you for what you did," I said, attempting, without much success, to speak normally. The field before us was dark away from the torch light. "Can you see if they're destroying each other?"

  He shook his head. "I perceive them not." I tried a magical flash of light, but Elerius must still have his defenses against school magic very well in place, for the spell dissolved ten yards from where we stood, doing little more than deepen the shadows around the undead warriors.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Most of the knights had lifted the visors on their helmets and were watching me intently, expectantly. Clearly to stay quietly here, waiting to see if any of the creatures Elerius and I had made would come this way, was not an option for Daimbert, glorious savior of the west.

  Antonia and Hadwidis would be back in the crowd somewhere. I didn't need to see their faces to know they would be watching just as expectantly. "Come on," I said to Maffi, convinced I was heading toward my own death but almost too tired to care. "Let's go find out."

  I stumbled with exhaustion and had to lean on his arm as we started across the rough field. Unable to fly in the area governed by Elerius's spells I realized how easy magic had always made life for me. Normally I didn't worry about walking into danger—I could always fly out. But now if Elerius's warriors broke through m
ine, or he took control of mine with his spells, Maffi and I would have no recourse but running, and I didn't think I would be able to run very far.

  Close at hand I heard a rapid clicking noise—Maffi's teeth were chattering. I looked toward him, but he merely shrugged with one shoulder. "It is colder than I had anticipated in your western realms," he said, his flashing smile unconvincing.

  The creaks and clanking ahead of us grew quieter rather than louder the closer we got—maybe there was something wrong with my ears. There seemed to be something wrong with my eyes too, for even as we approached, slowly, cautiously, ready to flee at any moment, I couldn't resolve individual warriors, but saw only vast untidy masses of darkness. The night air blew damp and piercing toward us.

  Maffi stopped, and I stopped with him. "They are no longer fighting," he said quietly.

  Had they formed their own monstrous alliance, the voice in the back of my mind asked, to destroy their makers, both Elerius and me? It took a moment of terror and despair to realize what had happened. But then I felt a second's wild exhilaration. My plan had worked.

  Writhing on the ground, pressed as tight together as welded pieces of steel, were Elerius's warriors and my own. His, stuck fast to mine, were still trying to march toward King Paul's army. Mine, powered with Basil's spell, were trying just as determinedly to march toward Elerius's castle. The net result was mounds of creatures kicking ineffectively but not—at least for the moment—about to kill anybody. Use of the stick-fast weed, an old bit of simple magic out of herbal lore, something I had picked up years ago when a very new graduate of the school, had stymied both Elerius's carefully-wrought spells and my own much more ad hoc dragons' teeth.

  "We'll have to dismantle them," I said, suddenly feeling confident again. "What do you use when you no longer need an automaton?"

  "Daylight," said Maffi firmly. "These spells require daylight."

  I actually doubted that they did, but I could see his point. "Maybe we could erect some sort of magical shield around them for tonight," I suggested uncertainly, "if such a thing would work here." I didn't want Elerius coming out after I was asleep and finding a way to separate them and reactivate his.

  But putting any further activity off until morning was suddenly not even to be imagined. From Elerius's castle came war cries and the harsh clang of swords being beaten against shields. Elerius might no longer be opposing us with undead warriors of hair and bone, but he had plenty of living warriors of flesh and blood.

  * * * *

  I spun around and shouted for King Paul. I tried magically amplifying my voice, but Elerius's spells against magic kept my spells from working. It didn't matter. Paul heard me.

  In a few seconds Maffi and I were surrounded by the warhorses of our army. Men gripped flaring torches in mailed fists as they galloped toward the enemy. The horses screamed and reared to avoid us and the mounds of unliving warriors, and for a moment iron-shod hooves flashed by our unprotected heads. Then the horses jostled, found their footing, and shot away toward the enemy.

  I put my hand over my eyes. I didn't need to see this. Distant sounds of battle indicated that the armies had met. The Black Wars, the wars that had so sickened the West that there had been nothing been minor skirmishes between kingdoms ever since, were going to fade in comparison to the massive blood-letting about to take place.

  After a moment I said to Maffi, "We're going to have to move or drag these warriors further from the castle, somewhere we can get a little light. Did Kaz-alrhun teach you any lifting spells that Elerius might not be expecting?"

  Maffi took a deep breath. "Perchance I can work without light. If I am to try spells, let them be the spells to deactivate an automaton."

  The two masses of unliving warriors still struggled in each others' grip, so we stood well back as Maffi started mumbling spells. From the distant battle came what sounded like shouts of triumph among the screams and the clashes of metal on metal. Somebody must be winning, I thought dully, looking at the ground at my feet because it didn't seem worth looking anywhere else.

  And that winning somebody, the thought struck me, should be the armies under Paul's command. Hope made me lift my head, though I still couldn't see anything. There were thousands of men in the army that had dedicated itself to my memory, whereas Elerius couldn't have fit nearly that many into his castle. He would not have been concerned about the size of his human army because it was supplemented by his undead warriors, not to mention his own spells and those of whatever wizards he had with him. But his magical warriors were out of action, and the forces he had erected against my spells worked equally well against his.

  "Ha!" said Maffi suddenly, and one of Elerius's warriors collapsed into bits of stinking bone.

  But, freed of the obstacle in its path, the dragon's teeth warrior against which it had been bound started forward again—marching this time not toward a foe, but toward the rear of Paul's army.

  I stumbled after it, snatching at spells. As long as I could avoid school magic, something must still be working. Maffi had managed to disassemble something made by another wizard, made with spells that had only a tangential relationship to the magic he knew himself, and yet he had succeeded. Exhausted as I was, I ought to be able to deal with a warrior I myself had made.

  The third almost-random series of commands in the Hidden Language worked, and the ferociously advancing creature stopped, quivered, and became nothing more than several long, razor-sharp teeth, lying in the dirt churned up by the cavalry.

  "Let us coordinate our efforts, Daimbert," said Maffi, taking me firmly by the arm as though I were a recalcitrant student. I stood beside him meekly, working to remove the semblance of life from my warriors at the same time as he worked on Elerius's warriors. The two sets of creatures were not perfectly balanced—sometimes one of mine would start slowly pushing its way successfully forward, toward the clashing armies, and sometimes one of Elerius's would make a break toward the camp of the assembled kings. Scurrying around the writhing, dark mass of undead bodies, we were just able to stop those who threatened to escape and to break the spells that gave them motion.

  It was excruciatingly slow, because our timing had to be perfect to destroy both warriors at once, and Maffi told me in disgust that no two of Elerius's creatures was put together precisely the same way—doubtless to foil somethng like what we were now doing. But somewhere in the back of my brain was the thought, which would have been joyful if I had had the energy to pay attention to it, that even Elerius's best spells could not stand against the combination of herbal and eastern wizardry.

  We kept on working, slowly, carefully, knowing that if exhaustion made us sloppy we would not live long enough to get away. I tried to calculate when we might finish rendering all the warriors inactive, mine and Elerius's both, and reached the conclusion that it would be sometime tomorrow afternoon. "That can't be right," I thought, shaking my head, but felt too muzzy to try the calculations again. Besides, they might still give me the same answer.

  Someone came racing toward us from the camp, surprising us so much in the middle of a spell that two warriors nearly got moving again before Maffi was able to bind them.

  It was Hadwidis. "They've escaped!" she cried. "I saw them coming!"

  "Who? What?" I managed to say from between parched lips.

  "My mother and brother! I used that magic skull thing again to see what was happening in my castle, and I saw them slipping out through the postern gate! Come with me, Wizard! I have to go to them!"

  I looked helplessly from her to Maffi, but the latter gave me a shove. "I would rest a moment from these spells," he said. "Go, and we shall resume on your return." Hadwidis took my arm and almost pulled me across the broken land, toward the clash of armies.

  But not quite toward them. She angled around the base of the castle, running tirelessly while I staggered along behind. The ground was rough, dotted with rocks and little streams that would have made for difficult going even in daylight, even it had not been
heavily trampled by mounted men, but she led the way through the darkness in perfect assurance: this was, after all, her kingdom.

  We were close to the castle now, whose dark walls rose sheer above us. Elerius was up in there—but he might not be able to see us magically with all school spells still blocked. A delicate stairway, only wide enough for one person, curved down the castle's side. Between us and that stairway, through the shadows, I could see two figures approaching.

  Hadwidis skidded to a stop, abruptly shy. Almost she hid herself behind me for a second, though I couldn't imagine what protection or wisdom I could offer at this point. "Hello, Mother," she said stiffly.

  The figures stopped abruptly, then the smaller one took a few steps forward—I would have guessed it was young Prince Walther, except that he walked erect, with no hint of a limp. "Who is there?" he said in a voice that would have been haughty had it not come out so high.

  Her answer was low and expressionless. "Your sister."

  "Hadwidis!" It was Walther after all. I could make out his features as he sprang toward us. "The saint has answered all my prayers! You're back to help me as I prepare to become king, and look! My leg is healed!"

  The Cranky Saint had become way too active for my tastes, especially since he seemed more interested in making Hadwidis queen than in stopping Elerius's ambitions. I stood quietly aside while the brother and sister embraced, and she turned, awkward again, toward her mother. No one paid the slightest attention to me.

  "You have left the nunnery?" the queen asked, her voice sharper than I would have expected from a woman being reunited with her daughter after years of separation. She was, as well as I could tell through the shadows, still a very attractive woman, much too well dressed to be scrambling around a muddy field at night. "Was leaving deliberate on your part," she added, "or did the abbess find your conduct unacceptable?"

 

‹ Prev