by Bob Blink
For reasons he didn’t understand, they were being sacrificed. Every tribe member in the area was being brought into this fight. But the Talls that fought with them in previous battles were conspicuously missing. They would not be supported with the incredible power of their magic. The force that controlled him and his fellows did not want to risk them for some reason. That was enough to tell S’erom this was one fight he would not see the end of.
It was time. The long line of Talls was at the spot he had chosen to trigger the attack. The command in his mind was received by every warrior hidden in the forest, and as one, they burst out of their hiding places and charged down upon the invaders. S’erom wished he could see where his mate was, but that was impossible. He would never know her fate or that of his offspring.
“Here they come!” shouted Crissi from somewhere farther back down the line.
Quickly the wizards shifted into the defensive posture they had planned and practiced before coming. Tara could see a group of mounted Baldari riding the strange ponies coming up from her right. She had no intention of allowing those poisonous beasts to get anywhere close. She unleashed a blast of Greenfire that cut through the front ranks, tumbling beast and rider to the ground as it cut through them. The trees of the jungle around the approaching forces was chopped up as well, the sounds of the tall trees cracking and falling onto the incoming warriors added to the screams of pain and death.
Hundreds of arrows peppered them, but the marvelous shields performed exactly as they had seen in the testing, and the arrows simply bounced away harmlessly. Tara knew that swords wouldn’t penetrate either, and the poor Baldari would find themselves unable to inflict much damage on the small group of wizards.
As she watched blasts of Greenfire rip through another stand of trees, Tara shouted out her orders. “Remember our orders. Let’s try and do this the way Daim wants.”
She couldn’t tell how many heard her command, but they had discussed how they would approach any attack. She could see the Baldari forces falling to the powerful magic being unleashed, and knew that even the large force of Baldari that had ambushed them would have little chance. The fight was totally biased in their favor by the recent additions to their magic. She saw dozens of the huts explode and burn as beams of magical fire rippled across the compound. She and Debi watched for any sign of the captured wizards and Casters, but it appeared they weren’t coming to this party.
Less than a quarter glass later, it was over. Baldari forms lay scattered everywhere. Men, women, even children. They had joined in the fight when the others had fallen to the magic. Tara walked through the carnage, observing her people and the additional forces that had been called in to aid. She walked toward the area that Debi pointed out. Control of the attacks appeared to have come from here. In the center of the group she discovered a couple of Baldari. One Baldari warrior carried one of the special crystal topped torches. Those usually produced the shields that protected the Baldari. It hadn’t served them well this day. As near as she could tell it had never been activated, and this group of leaders hadn’t been any more protected than the rest of the forces.
Among the bodies, she saw what Debi had led her here to see. One of the Baldari, older and scarred, could be the one they sought. He did look a lot like the mental picture that had been obtained from the captive Baldari of their leader. She would have him brought back so others could decide. She explained what she wanted done, then went to see to the destruction of the village.
Chapter 51
Kytra was having difficulty understanding all that had happened of late. The forces of the wizards had enjoyed some remarkable successes, and had suddenly displayed powers and abilities she knew they hadn’t possessed earlier. Something had changed, and she didn’t understand exactly what.
The attack on their capital city of Pagner hadn’t gone as she had hoped. Somehow they had known what she had planned. She was aware the white haired woman had sensed she had something planned, but given the many possibilities, how had she known where the strike was to occur? They could not have prepared so well in every possible city. They were not that strong. She knew that from what she had learned from her captives. But they had known, and she had lost a great many helot slaves as a result. Baldari she could waste carelessly, but the helot, with their magical abilities would have to be her source of power until she was free to show these people what magic was all about.
She still didn’t understand what had happened to the one who had called herself Shym. After returning from the battle, she had somehow been taken by an arrow deep in the jungle lands that Kytra had been certain her enemy knew nothing about. A careful search had uncovered no sign of the enemy, and none with arrows that matched the one taken from the Caster’s body. Kytra had had her helot search, and check for any sign of a Bypass that might have carried away the individual who had performed the assassination, but nothing was found. A single arrow fired, and a perfect hit on her most valuable helot.
She had been certain that the enemy had somehow traced her warriors back to the staging area. That meant the place was no longer secure, and she would have to arrange for a new location for future attacks. She was not yet certain where that would be. But she had been suspicious that before long, the wizards would be coming into the newly discovered area which she had been using to dispatch her army of Baldari. They would be disappointed. The place they would search was nowhere near where she was, and none there would be able to lead them where they wished to go. Even so, she had wanted to know, to see just how powerful her adversary was becoming. Perhaps she could learn something useful.
As a result, she had equipped several of the Baldari warriors with the crystal torches, and placed them on watch around the area. She didn’t need to protect them, but when they carried the crystal devices she could see what they saw. It had been a wise move. Just this morning, the large force of wizards had appeared much as she had predicted. She had the two Baldari on duty stay out of sight, but track them through the jungle.
Knowing where they were headed, she had arranged for all nearby Baldari to attack them. It was unlikely the Baldari would have much effect, but now that this area was known, the Baldari here would be of little use to her. She wouldn’t waste any of her helot in helping them fight off the incoming wizards. But she would have a chance to see what the wizards would do. The exercise would also eliminate many of the Baldari she would otherwise have to command to simply shutdown as she did for those captured. Baldari wouldn’t relocate or she might have tried to save those who had survived. She had learned without constant mental control, any who were moved, would simply start back toward their home.
The attacks had been informative and unsettling. This group of wizards clearly had protective shields. They were fully protected against the arrows and spears of the Baldari, and Kytra was certain they would also be immune to the magic of her helot. Her own magic wouldn’t be so easily pushed aside, but she was not yet in a position to personally take the war to these impertinent novices. They also had Greenfire. After the battle in the city of Pagner, she had thought only the Casters had that ability, but clearly she had been wrong. She wondered what else she was wrong about.
As a result of the day’s events, she decided she needed to move more slowly, and understand what was her best move. There were targets she could still hit, but she didn’t want any more face to face encounters. If they had shields and Greenfire, they were more potent than any of her helot. That meant her immediate actions would have to wait. She was feeling her release was close, and now Tryll was showing signs of waking. If she could gain an ally, she would be in a much better situation. There were a couple of targets she would focus on for now, not the least of which was the meddling woman who kept spying on her. She was certain where she was, a spot probably out of her reach for the moment, but if she were to move to a more exposed position, Kytra intended to act.
Now the wizards had taken care of the Baldari for her. Her mind sensed nothing from the tri
bes she had sacrificed, which meant they were dead. She had sensed them being swept from her mind in great numbers as the wizards unleashed their counterattack. A few children remained alive in the secluded villages, but no others. Those stragglers had somehow not accepted the command to relocate, and she would simply terminate them in the usual way. The Baldari were no longer a problem. So many gone so quickly, but then the Baldari were not going to be of much use going forward. At most, they would be useful as a distraction. Against magic they couldn’t do very much as the recent encounter had demonstrated. She was a little sad to have sacrificed the one who had survived as First for so long. It was not that he was anything special, but she had become familiar with his thoughts.
Kytra considered her current resources. She had almost one hundred and fifty helot left, although not all of them were as yet under her control. The halfmen, or Duneriders as she’d learned the wizards called them, were still working through the ranks of captured, and making them slaves to her will. The implantation of the crystals into the brains was a tricky thing, and even the halfmen, who were designed for such a task, lost two out of every ten. Within another couple of days the process would have been completed, and she would see what she could learn from this group. They would have to be used sparingly, as she was aware the enemy had learned of her methods, and were taking more care to protect their own. It was really unfortunate she couldn’t pass some useful magic to them, but other than what they could exchange among themselves, they were limited to what they knew when they were captured. Perhaps she could capture one of the wizards who had exhibited the skills with Greenfire and shields. That was something to consider.
It was fortunate that the missing Nyk had created the group of halfmen. All that had existed in her time had been destroyed, and under the present conditions she couldn’t make them herself. She had called them to her side when the wizards had destroyed the facilities in the desert. Once they had arrived she had destroyed all but a handful, but those that remained were very useful to her. They were the only beings she allowed to enter the crystal chamber where she and her fellow Brryn were entombed. The halfmen couldn’t harm her in any way. They would cease to exist if they even entered the main chamber, but they could perform any number of special tasks. They would have certain items ready for her once she was released.
Chapter 52
S’erom slowly forced his eyes open. The effort took all of his will, but gradually his impossibly heavy eyelids lifted, and the bright confusing picture of where he was unraveled before him. There were others in the cage with him, and they seemed to be in better shape. They were at least up and walking around. He wished to call out to them and learn where he was, but his brain was still muddled, and he couldn’t put together a coherent thought.
His sword was gone, of course. So was his bow and the small belt knife he usually wore. For the briefest moment he couldn’t fathom what had happened and how he had ended up in such a place. Then, with a blow that threatened to sap the very last of his will, he remembered the attack. They were gone! His mate, his children, everyone he had ever known. Now he recalled the blast of powerful magic the Talls had unleashed on him and his warriors. The pain had been intense. Every part of his body had been bathed in the hurtful fire, and he had known he was being consumed just as he’d seen others blasted by the bright fire the Talls could create. He’d known that his family must be suffering a similar fate, and that he’d never see them again. He had never expected to see anything again.
And now, inexplicably, here he was. He examined his body quickly, and was surprised to discover there were none of the fierce burns he expected to find. He appeared to be wholly intact, without a mark on him. The fire that had consumed his fellows must have been directed off center, and he had escaped the worst of the blast. But then, why had he felt like every part of his body was being roasted over an intense fire?
As his questions grew, his mind started to clear. The others in the cell were also unharmed as near as he could tell. They also appeared to be more alert and active than himself, and now that he was moving, several of them had backed away and watched him carefully. They looked upon him with a certain respect, which suggested they recognized who he was. Not that his position as First had any real meaning among the A’ardaugh. That was a title that had been bestowed upon him by the force that controlled him, yet he knew that some memories remained even after the controlling mind withdrew. These warriors must recall enough to know he was their leader, at least one of them, in the battles they had been forced to fight.
He took a moment to scan the group of seven warriors, and realized he didn’t recognize any of them. He knew every male in his own village. That suggested they were from another village. That was possible, but he was disappointed that none from his own had survived. It would have been reassuring to speak with someone he had a common bond with. They must be from one of the nearby villages that had come to support the attack. A moment of jealousy flared as he wondered if because of that, the families of some of these warriors had survived while his own had perished.
Finally he was able to project his concern and questions to those around him. The mental replies came from several of his fellow prisoners almost simultaneously. It took his lethargic brain a moment to sort the replies out. He was a prisoner of the Talls. That hardly came as a surprise. Now that he remembered the encounter and the fierce magic that had been unleashed, he could hardly be anywhere else.
What was a surprise, was the fact that all of those being held here with him, had not been taken during the recent battle. These warriors were in turn surprised to learn that the village near the Gathering Place had been attacked, and the tribes wiped out. They had been taken much earlier, at the battle deep within the Talls homeland when they had been supported by Talls of their own. Talls that were controlled by the same force that drove them. He had often heard rumors that those captured were forced to die and would never be seen again. Obviously, that rumor was not true.
It struck S’erom almost immediately that he alone had survived the attack on the village. He was certain that if any others had lived, they would be imprisoned here with him. Once again he felt a brief flash of despair. Why had he been allowed to survive? He would much rather have died with the rest of his village.
One of the other prisoners brought him a small mug of water. There was a large vat of the cool liquid, and now that he looked S’erom could see that there was food as well. What a curious way to treat prisoners. He questioned those in the cell, and they confirmed that while the food was not especially flavorful, they were given all they required, and generally had been treated well. S’erom had always assumed that those taken prisoner were quickly put to death, and learning this was not the case confused him.
The cool water calmed his burning throat, and he pushed himself so that he was sitting with his back to the wall where he could watch the large door made of stout iron bars. As his mind regained its full awareness, he resolved to seek any opportunity to take revenge upon the Talls. He knew that the battle between the A’ardaugh and the Talls was something that was not the fault of the Talls. They had simply been responding to the aggression against them, but S’erom could only focus on the simple fact they had come to his home and taken his family, his most cherished thing, from him. That overrode everything else. He would take his revenge when he could, and hopefully they would kill him so he would not have to carry the bitter memories of his loss.
He had already learned that the Talls were not above killing them for lack of cooperation. Nine warriors had been captured, along with one of the Talls that had come to their side. Two of the warriors had never been seen again, nor had the supporting Tall. Of course they could be elsewhere, but why would that be? He asked what the Talls had wanted from them, but learned that all attempts to communicate with them had fallen short. Consistent with his own experiences, the Talls were deaf and dumb, and could not be communicated with. Each of the warriors told of being strapped to a table, and
having their minds invaded. The purpose was not known, and while the experience was uncomfortable and distasteful, it had not caused any harm. It had also not satisfied the Talls. They had been clearly unhappy after all of the warriors had been subjected to the process.
The stories prepared him for what almost certainly was waiting for him. Sure enough, the next morning several Talls came for him. They were armed, and he briefly considered forcing them to kill him, but he wished for a more meaningful death and a chance to take at least a small revenge. He therefore allowed himself to be taken, hands tied behind him, out of the cell and down a long hall to the room he’d been told about.
He understood better what his fellow warriors had tried to describe to him. He could feel them poking around in his memories, and he suspected they sought some link to the power that controlled him. He wished them luck. He had never seen the entity behind the control, and knew they would learn nothing. He was interested in the constant chatter between those examining him, and was certain they communicated by the sounds, much like some of the animals in the jungle. Perhaps that was why they never responded to his thoughts.
The process went on forever. He wished he could simply drift off and wake up again when it was done. Instead, he was forced to gaze upon memories locked in his mind, some of them he would have thought forgotten, and others very painful. He saw his village, and happier time with his family, including the birth of his children. He saw the battles he had participated in and those he had been in charge of. He saw a great many Talls that he had killed, and watched them die a second time. He was certain those memories would be sufficient to see him killed when this was over.
Finally they withdrew from his mind, and he was allowed to rest a short time before he was unstrapped from the table and helped to his feet. There had been no chance for him to attack, and now, with his hands bound once again, and a bit shaky from the experience, S’erom knew he would be returned to the cell without having accomplished anything. He felt shame for his lack of action. A warrior such as himself should have been able to do better.
