"Turns out Kaval doesn't share your blind prejudice against foreigners." Dante swung his pack around and dug out one of the white, pearlescent fruits. He cut it open and dug out the pit, revealing the five-pointed star.
The woman reached out hesitantly, as if afraid to touch it. "If this is true. How did you do this? Star Trees, they have been dead for half a thousand years."
"We traveled into the Mists." Dante chose his truth carefully. "And found those who used to know the ways."
She took the seed, lifting it to her face, then rushed to her canoe. A lively conversation ensued between her and the others in the boat.
When the Harvester walked back, her expression bordered on furious. "We can't take you from here."
Winden curled her lip. "Then go. We don't need the help of the Tauren's servants."
"We can't leave because we can't forsake this place. Kaval would never forgive us. We will join you—and we will fight."
Niles broke into relieved laughter. He gestured to the bay. "How many people do you have here?"
"Eighty who can fight."
"I appreciate your offer like a beer at the end of a long day. But we've only got twice that many. Combine our forces, and the Tauren will still outnumber us four times over."
The woman jabbed her finger to the south. "It doesn't matter! You won't fight? Then we will. And when you reach the Mists, you will explain to Kaval why you rejected his greatest gift."
Niles scratched his beard. "It might be enough. Dante, what do you think?"
"This is your survival you're thinking of risking," Dante said. "It's your decision."
"I want to fight. Without you, though, Vordon will carve us like a hog."
Dante gazed across the Boat-Growers' canoes. "All right. I'm in."
Winden cocked her head. "That simply? But we've already lost once."
"That's exactly why I want to do this. If there's one thing I hate more than tyrants, it's losing."
Niles reached out and clasped his hand. "I promise you. This time, we won't fail."
Dante eyed him. "That sounds like tonen to me."
This drew a loudly appreciative chuckle from all the islanders present. Before officially committing her forces, the Boat-Grower Harvester, whose name was Dess, asked to see the Star Tree. Winden and a contingent of warriors led her into the jungle. While they were out, and with Niles' scouts jogging off to keep tabs on the Tauren advance, Blays walked across town, assessing a potential defense.
"Those canoes of theirs," Blays said. "They're as strong as they are light. I think they'd make pretty good mobile shield walls."
"A little bulky," Dante said. "Suppose they'd let us chop them in half?"
"The way Dess reacted to the Star Tree seed? I think she'd let us chop her in half."
"That's a good start to our defense. But we're dealing with a thousand soldiers. We're going to need a lot more than a few shields."
Blays pointed up the road. "Archers behind the shields. Withdraw whenever the Tauren get too close. We can fight them all the way into town. To that temple there." He gestured to the large, blocky temple that sat in the middle of Kandak. "It's stone. Fireproof. Cut down the trees around it, and it'll make for a pretty good keep."
"Which means Vordon will just surround us and starve us out."
"Who says I mean for us to hide in it? I want him to think that's what we're up to. You, meanwhile, will have made use of the town's local hot springs."
The wheels turned in Dante's head. "Now that just might work."
* * *
"Work" was the operative word of the night. After having seen the Star Tree, Dess was happy to let the Kandeans chop her canoes into portable shield walls. While the warriors drilled with these, learning how to pivot them and to retreat while covering the archers within them, citizens and soldiers chopped down the trees and shrubs around the temple, stripping away the Tauren's cover. And Dante prepared the field.
He went to sleep while many of the Kandeans were still laboring to convert their home into a battlefield. It felt like he'd hardly closed his eyes when he woke to Winden poking him awake.
"Your friends in the ship," she said. "They're here."
He glared at her, utterly confused, then put her words together. Outside, dawn broke, and the Sword of the South sat at the mouth of the bay—along with the Mallish navy ship they'd captured in Bressel.
Dante asked for the flag to indicate the rixen should come ashore, waving it back and forth. A longboat launched and stroked its way to the beach.
Naran waded onto the sand, resplendent in his many-buttoned jacket. "You're looking hale. Don't tell me you've found your cure?"
"Sure did," Blays said. "That's the good news. The bad news: we've also found a war."
They summarized the details of the Tauren assault, including the previous battle and the one they now faced.
At the end, Naran smiled wryly. "Decided to get involved in local politics, have you? Don't you get enough of that back home?"
"Clearly, I haven't learned my lesson," Dante said. "We've chosen to make a second stand. It should be decided within two days. Can I ask you to come back then?"
"You may not."
"Naran, we're too deeply entangled to leave now. But if I survive this, I swear to you that my next act will be to end Gladdic's life."
"I like that part," Naran said. "And that is why we will be fighting alongside you."
Dante snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. You have nothing to do with this."
"But I have much to do with you. I require your help to avenge Captain Twill. To my mind, you are an investment, and one not easily replaced. Hence I'd be a fool to watch you die against overwhelming odds."
"And what about your crew?"
"Most of them owe you their freedom, if not their lives. I won't force them to fight. But I expect I won't have to."
Dante gestured at the lightening sky. "Better hurry. The Tauren are camped less than five miles from here. Once they get on the march, they can be here in two hours."
Naran got back in his longboat and headed back to the two ships. As he was out speaking to his people, the scouts came in. The Tauren were on the move.
"No waiting until afternoon tea is finished?" Blays said. "I'm afraid they're finally taking us seriously."
Most of the citizens had already left Kandak, but Niles sent the few who'd stayed into the temple. Scouts dashed every which way. Warriors ate breakfast, dressed themselves in their various bits of armor, and did some last-minute practicing with the Boat-Growers' shields.
Naran returned with a squad of 36 irregularly-armed men, putting their numbers close to three hundred. Half again as many as they'd had at the battle of Broken Valley. The Tauren, meanwhile, were down at least two hundred troops, plus two of their nethermancers. The scales were still grossly imbalanced, but as Dante made last-minute preparations, he found his anxiety mingled with hope.
The Tauren came within three miles, then two. Kandean warriors installed themselves in houses along the road. Archers lined up behind the shields, which were so long they had to be carried by a man at each end.
A mile out, the enemy army came to a halt, detaching a large contingent that angled to the north. Anticipating a pincer attack, Niles shifted a few score defenders to the northern road toward the temple plaza.
Minutes later, a scout dashed in from that direction, face anguished. "The Basket. They're destroying it!"
Winden clenched her jaw. "We have to stop them. Niles, we have enough warriors!"
Niles reached for her hand. "To fight back that arm of their troops? Could be. But then we'd be smashed by their main force. The Basket will burn either way."
"It took years to grow that. Some of those plants, they've been here for generations!"
"This is the cost of war," Dante said softly. "Things that should last forever are torn to the ground. But you can rebuild."
She whirled on him. "Do you think I don't know that? Is it supposed to be comfor
ting that, if I devote years of my life to it, I might one day regain what we've lost?"
He flushed, embarrassed to have offered such platitudes. "You're right. There is no good here. Only death. For them, or for us."
Smoke climbed from the Basket up the coast from the city, drifting inland on the seaborne breeze. Other columns sprung up on all sides. The Tauren were burning fields and orchards. This gave them no tactical advantage, but the destruction wasn't for the Kandeans. It was a message to the other people on the island: resist, and your earth will be scorched.
The defenders could do nothing but wait. Once the Tauren finished pillaging the outskirts, they regrouped and marched on the city proper, burning everything that would take flame. Though it wasn't necessary to the Kandean strategy for the enemy to advance along the main east-west road, Niles dispatched his army there to entice the Tauren to do so. Vordon obliged, concentrating his troops several hundred yards from the front lines of Kandean skirmishers and shielded archers.
Vordon stepped out from his troops, shoulders swaying. He surveyed the resistance. "Did you bring your friends out? I'm happy to see this. It means I won't have to march as far to kill them."
"Destroy us, and you'll never know what you've lost," Niles called back. "But that's your way, isn't it, Vordon? You'd rather rule an entire wasteland than live peaceably in a slice of paradise."
"Old man, your judgment is as tired as you are. Time to put you and your people to bed."
Vordon threw out his arms. His army marched forward, enveloping him. It split to either side of the road, advancing in two wide columns.
Niles cupped his hands to his mouth. "Open fire!"
Kandean archers popped from behind their long shields, launching a volley at the front lines. Tauren fell and lay still. Their archers returned fire, but the Kandeans had already ducked back behind the shields. The incoming arrows whacked into solid wood.
Vordon shouted orders. Archers moved into the cover of buildings and trees, sniping on the defenders. Led by Vordon, a body of men split from the left-hand column, circling behind a closely-grouped stand of houses. On the other side of the road, the right-hand column mirrored the maneuver, the flankers accompanied by two other nethermancers.
"They're surrounding us," Niles said. "We'll have to fall back. We can't let it degenerate into a rout."
Dante nodded. The plan was similar to that at the Broken Valley: concede ground, but make the Tauren bleed for every inch of it. Whittle down the enemy to more manageable numbers and make a final stand at the temple keep.
But if the retreat grew too disorganized, the Kandeans might be crushed right there in the field. And if they withdrew too early, the Tauren might disengage, besieging the keep and starving the Kandeans out—be it through food, or through the shaden the mostly-uncured locals still needed to ward off the ronone. The battle would be another dance, then. Like before, if there was any stumble or misstep, everything would fall.
"Send Winden and Dess to support the right flank," Dante said. "I'll hold off Vordon."
He ran left, Blays at his side. Two hundred feet up the slope of the city, the frontmost archers retreated, covered by those behind. A squadron of armored Tauren swordsmen swung around a stone building, charging the archers' flank. The Kandeans pivoted their long shield to meet the threat. Blays broke into a dead run, swords in hand. Dante fell behind with each stride.
The swordsmen plowed into the shield, hammering at it. The archers had dropped their bows to poke at the enemy with short spears; pressed by the swordsmen, they staggered back. Skirmishers rushed forward to support them, but a withering volley of Tauren arrows forced them into the shelter of a house. One of the shield-carriers staggered, dropping his side of the modified boat to the ground.
Swords reaved into the archers. As they broke and ran, Blays tore into the swordsmen's flank, knocking one soldier to the ground. The dead man's partner jabbed at Blays' gut. Dante sent a spear of nether plunging into the man's eye. Darkness streaked toward Blays. Dante grunted, parrying it awkwardly.
"Vordon's here!" He scanned the buildings, but Blays was already running for the closest house. Shadows crunched into its corner, showering Blays with splinters. He dived behind it.
The archers had made use of the confusion to join up with the pinned-down skirmishers. Behind his incoming troops, Vordon weaved in and out of trees, shacks, and houses, striking at any Kandean who straggled too far from Dante's protection. Eyes out for arrows, Dante moved up behind the front line of battling Kandeans.
As before, his personal battle with Vordon became a stalemate, with each feint and thrust of nether negated in turn. The other man was too swift to overpower and too canny to trick. Tauren maneuvered between the houses, claiming one row at a time. Those at the rear of the advance set fires, hazing the air with acrid smoke.
The Kandeans dropped back in disciplined turns. The Tauren had metal blades and superior armor, but the Kandean's constant archery, use of the houses for cover, and bouts of vicious resistance left three enemy soldiers dead for every warrior they lost.
But they were running out of space. And even a three-to-one margin would see the Kandeans annihilated long before the Tauren.
To the right side of the road, men and women were crying out in panic. Through gaps in the buildings, Dante watched as the right flank crumbled, the Kandeans running away in all-out retreat. There was nothing he could do. If he left to assist them, Vordon would crush the left side unopposed.
"Pull back!" Dante yelled. "To the temple!"
"We've hardly dented them!" Blays said, swords slick with blood.
"We have no choice. Another minute, and the right flank will collapse."
He called orders to the Kandean sergeants, who relayed these to their people. The withdrawal hastened, with warriors hanging onto each house just long enough to cover the retreat of those in front. Sensing the Kandeans were at the breaking point, the Tauren flowed into the gaps heedlessly, daring the Kandean archers to stay put and fire at them.
But there was no time for that. The right-hand ranks were streaming into the open ground surrounding the temple. They poured inside, archers appearing in the windows of the upper floors. The windows on the lower level had been plugged with boards and debris. These barriers wouldn't be strong enough to resist determined men with axes and sledges, but they'd hold out long enough.
Ensconced in the keep, the Kandean archers poured arrows into their Tauren pursuit, keeping them at bay in the buildings beyond the plaza. Niles stood in the temple's entrance, guiding his troops inside. As the warriors from the left side ran to the converted fortress, Dante stayed near the front, countering Vordon's attacks.
Vordon hung back, reuniting the two wings of his force at the west edge of the plaza, which was slightly uphill from the temple but provided no meaningful tactical advantage. Keeping one eye on Vordon, Dante ran up the steps, Blays at his side. Naran was right inside, bearing a gash on his forehead that trickled blood into his eyes. Dess was there, too, the tatters of her leafy cape flapping behind her as she gave orders to her people, who had prevented the enemy's sorcerers from eliminating the right-hand column.
Dante exited out into the hot sunlight, finding Niles. "Where's Winden?"
Niles shook his head, threatening to spill his tears. "She went missing in the retreat."
"Missing? How could you let that happen?"
"Their sorcerers were too strong. They sliced right through our lines. Winden tried to sneak through a house to hit them from behind, but we broke too fast."
Dante gazed across the city. Most of the Tauren were gathered in the square, but others patrolled the abandoned portion of the town, setting fires and rooting out anyone in hiding.
"She might still be out there," Dante said. "We have to hold them back as long as we can. Give her a chance to get back to us."
"They were going door to door. Either she's already slipped away, or…" Niles was unable to voice his conclusion.
Shadow
s rippled at the far end of the plaza. Prior to the attack, the defenders had torn out almost all the vegetation around the temple, but they'd left scattered grass and shrubs deemed too small to bother tearing out. Now, fed by the nether of the Tauren Harvesters, the remaining plants crept upward inch by inch. The stumps of trees sprouted fresh branches that tangled together, squeezing out the daylight between them. The growth snaked across the plaza, nearing the temple. Ample cover for an advance.
Dante couldn't stop them. Slowing them down would burn nether he couldn't spare. Tauren soldiers filtered into the harvested maze. Dante yelled at the archers, urging them to rain down hell. But few arrows found their mark. Dozens of Tauren infiltrated the field, their archers taking aim on the entrance. Dante and Niles retreated inside.
The Tauren shot into the windows, forcing the fortified archers behind cover. At least a hundred of the enemy hunkered in the trees and bushes. With the Kandeans pinned down, unable to offer more than trifling fire, Vordon bellowed, his voice echoing across the square. Scores of men trotted from the safety of the buildings.
Blays brushed Dante's shoulder, angling for a view out the debris-choked window. "This is going to work, isn't it?"
"It might," Dante said. "But Winden's still out there somewhere."
Blays froze. "Alive?"
"We don't know."
"We know this much: she's not in that field." Blays gestured to the square, which was now nearly as full of the enemy as it was with the harvested bushes. Vordon moved into the ranks, eyes locked on the temple's open doorway. "This isn't the same as in Narashtovik. Vordon's right there. We can't wait any longer."
In his heart, Dante knew this was true. He might not be sacrificing her. Not as he'd once done to save his city.
Yet as he reached deep within the earth, removing the plugs from the tunnels he'd shaped the night before, he couldn't help feeling as though he was reliving the worst moment of his life.
Steam shot from cracks across the plaza. Tauren cried out in shock. A spume of yellow lava erupted into the air.
The Red Sea Page 39
