Balten stopped and took note of the landscape. ‘This is the start of the great wastes-the lands of the Paatin. From here,there is little else but rock and endless deserts.’
‘How many deserts are there?’ Ambassador Canyon asked.
Balten was set to answer, but Sir Ferse took his turn to speak and he reeled off his description as if reading from a cartographer’s report. ‘Countless deserts lie to the east, like seas of sand and stone. They stretch into the unknown and beyond, for no one,savethe desert people, has any desire to delve into such unforgiving places. The varieties of desert are as endless as their number: all manner of barren plains, windswept crags, sandy dunes and salty wastes. The most precious treasures of the deserts are the sparse wells and springs. The locations of these secret places are guarded fiercely by the desert folk: nomadic and secretive people, wary of those outside their tribe. Their skins have been made dark by lifetimes under the sun. Their women are rarely seen, but it is said they are treated well and even act as matriarchs in some families. The deserts are many and impenetrable, but their mysteries are even more so.’
Balten was impressed. ‘You surprise me, Sir Ferse, and you seem to have some mysteries of your own. I would not have guessed you knew so much of this land. But,yes, you are correct in your summary,although it is quite a rudimentary account. These lands are vast and dangerous. One small mistake here will see a man wandering and lost, gasping for water upon the scorched earth until the scavengers come to pick at his bones. I don’t know why anyone bothers to persist here.’
‘What do you know of this Desert Queen, then?’ Samuel asked of Balten.
‘Her people called herAlahativa, which means Wondrous One in the most common of Paatin tongues, for they have as many languages as they have tribes,each markedly different and distinct from one another. Nobody knows her full history-only that she came from the desert one day and forged a city in the heart of the Paatin. They sayof all the women upon the earth,she is of unequalled beauty. She is terrible and ruthless,and her people fear her as much as they love her. She is more of a legend than a person, for I first heard tales of her when I was just a boy and she was alreadyrenownedby then. I sometimes doubt that she may even be a single person, but is rather a legacy of queens. There is much we don’t know, but Idare saywe will find out more once we get there.’
‘Can she truly be a witch?’ Eric asked.
‘Again, tales of her powers are common in these parts-but we will be able to make that judgement soon enough.’
Balten led them to a tiny hut, hidden in the crevices of a set of low hills that hugged the side of the desert. He left them waiting outside upon their horses and, while it was evident there were people inside, there was no sound of any conversation. He emerged moments later with an armful of thin,brown cloaks.
‘Put these on, over your underclothes,’ he told them and threw the bundle to Eric. ‘In the desert, you do things in the way of the desert, or you perish.’
They did as they were told, with the magicians discarding their own robes of black for the thinner, brown cloths. Balten demonstrated how to wear them, for the clothes were of a simple cut and needed to be wound around the body and tied with laces and cords. Out of view,Canyon assisted his god to wrap herself in the fabri and,when she re-emerged, she had pulled the hood over her face as tightly as she could.
‘These are clothes of the hill-tribe people. We should not meet any others of such caste here, but they can be quickoftemper. Our disguises will grant us some safety, but it will be even safer to give any others we meet a wide berth.’
He then lifted the heavy lid from a large,flat barrel beside the door,replenished the water bags in their packs and ensured their mounts had drunk their fill. After that, they were quickly away.
They rode along the bleak landscape from landmark to landmark. Sometimes, it seemed Balten had lost his way,but then he would find some tiny feature on the horizon that had them changing direction and setting off again. Nights were spent in the open, and they gathered sticks from the dry scrub that scattered the land to make their fire, eating from their supplies.
Every second or third day, they would spy another encampment or party of travelling desert-men. Sometimes they would change their path to avoid the others entirely and sometimes Balten would speak with them and return with more supplies-the frequency of which seemed impossible to foretell. They only did as they were told, and pulled their hoods up over their heads when he instructed, riding slowlyandwithstraightbacksto avoid attention.
Local food consistedof a high volume of roots and bitter berries, but goat seemed to be the domestic animal of choice and they had that meat as often as they liked, for it was not in short supply. Samuel suspected that some of the flesh they were given was actually horse, for many of the tiny settlements they met had a pen of small strong ponies beside it, with legs and hocks of the preserved meat stored in the shade. He was not bothered after long, for they had little choice in what they ate, and he actually found the tender meat was to his liking,very similar to beef.
‘How do you know these lands so well?’ Eric asked of Balten, as they made for the shadows of a lone cluster of boulders.
‘I come here everyyear orso,’ was the mysterious answer.
‘What business do you have in the desert?’ Sir Ferse asked.
‘The Circle has interest in all the affairs of the world. I go where I am sent,’ was his reply.
It had been weeks since they had entered the wastes and everyone had begun to think the journey would have no end. Each day they rose earlier and slept later. Before noon,they would find whatever shade they could and rest for several hours. In this way, the daytime heat became somewhat more tolerable.
They were leading their horses down a crumbling, red-stoned hill when Samuel felt magic ahead. At the same moment, Balten looked up with alarm and raised his hand for them to stop. He peered down towards the flat land, where dark clots of men were massing like ants, climbing from hidden cracks and crevices. Somewhere down there, magic was being readied.
‘What is it?’ Master Celios asked.
A spell crackled from far away and Samuel suddenly became aware of men on either side. They came chargingat the small group, leaping over the rocks and howling, holding their curved swords above their heads.
Horse was the first to react and he leapt from his horse and ran to meet the men, empty-handed. His strides were like bounds and he covered the distance in a heartbeat, slamming his fists into the first of the men and sending them flying. Others surged around him, but Horse was a blur of fists, ducking their blades and shattering their bones with lightning-fast strokes imbued by his innate magic.
More desert-men were inbound from their right and Eric saw to those with a series of curt spells, thrown from his saddle. In moments, the Paatin on either side had been dispatched, but many more were already scalingthe hilltowards them from below.
‘Leave the horses,’ Balten told them. ‘We run. Back for the top of the hill. We can hold them if we have the high ground.’
He abandoned his mount, then tucked his long,desert-style cloak into his trousers for ease, and began back up the rocky hill as fast as he could. The others did likewise and followed him, dropping from their saddles and scrambling to keep up. Horse climbed faster than everyone. He reached the crest first and stood eyeing the far side with concern. When Samuel finally arrived, panting for breath beside the Koian warrior, it was evident they had been surrounded, for a throng of pale-cloaked Paatin were already halfway up the far side of the rise, some clambering on all fours to come straight up at them, others following the zigzagging path that had been worn into the hill.
‘They are coming from all sides!’ Eric blurted outinalarm.
‘We can hold them,’ Balten said coolly. ‘Just keep the others in the middle to protect them.’ And he turned a grave eye to Samuel. ‘This is no time to hold back, Samuel. We need your strength.’
Master Celios was the first to send out his spel
ls and,although he was not as powerful as the others, he began well by sending showers of loose stones down upon the desert-men, so that they had to cower behind rocks and shield themselves from the bombardment. Eric followed, joining the old Master and lifting great boulders. He sent them bouncing and crashing down the hill, crushing scores of Paatin beneath their weight. Balten faced the other side of the hill, where they had left their horses, and stood calmly holding a Morning Stance while he summoned his power. Samuel took the chance to slip on his ring and he shuddered as the power took hold of him, already smelling the caustic scent of magic in his nostrils. Canyon and Sir Ferse stood warily beside the god-woman, while Horse waited calmly for the attackers to draw nearer.
Balten had finished gathering his power and sent the first of his spells rolling down the hillside. Explosions rattled the slope, sending desert-men and their severedlimbsflying into the air. Their horses fled, frightened by the noise and went galloping awaydownthe steepdecline with their ears pulled back. Samuel joined Eric, tapping the Argum Stone as little as he could. He did not want to tire himself too quickly for,judging by the volume of men that surrounded them, the battle would not be over quickly. He sent waves of fire rolling down the hill that set their attackers rolling and thrashing and slapping at themselves. As they lost their footing,they went toppling down the hill, forming wailing pinwheels that tumbled and bounced and left their fellows diving out of the way. Thisinitial defence seemed successful, but a feeling tugging at his mind had Samuel worried for,on the far side of the hill, below where Balten was defending, Paatin magic was hard at work.
‘Where are they all coming from?’ he heard Eric shout from beside him.
‘They must have been following us for some time,’ Master Celios called back, ‘waiting for an opportune time to attack.’
‘We would have felt so many tracking us,’ Eric responded.
‘They can use our footsteps and subtle signs of the desert to follow us,’ Balten called back, following the conversation as he threw down more bolts of power. ‘Skilled trackers can know our every move from well beyond the horizon, once they have caught our trail.’
‘What is that?’ Canyon then cried, sounding shrill and pointing to Balten’s side of the hill.
Samuel turned his gaze and saw specks of desert-men leaping up the hillside towards them, bounding like fleas.
‘Paatin wizard-work!’ Balten called. He began aiming at the leaping figures with his spells, but the men leapt erratically, bounding over their countrymen and scaling the hill by the drove.
Samuel stood beside him and pointed his fist down the hillside. He called forth the energy of the ether and a screeching gale of magic swept out from within him. It washed down the hill and the first lines of Paatin it met grew incandescent, glowed red and then blew to dust as the spell burnt them to cinders. Leaping desert-men, caught in mid-air, shrieked and vanished as they were caught in the spell.
Balten nodded his approval, but Samuel had no time to savour the victory. A clot of fire was stuck in his chest and he laboured for breath against the pain. He felt a flood of magic building up within him, forcing its way through the passage he had opened, but he refused to be overcome. Inch by inch, he swallowed the magic down and forced closed his connection with the ring. Finally, he could breathe again and he turned away from the others and pulled the Argum Stone from his finger with desperation.
‘You will need to pace yourself, Samuel,’ Balten said. ‘The battle is only just begun.’
Looking down the hill,Samuel saw thatthe effect of his spell had vanished and the leaping desert-men he had defeated had only been replaced by hordes of more such men. Some were getting near and Samuel could see enormous,black, taloned legs jutting out frombeneaththeir pale cloaks, driving them into the air with each leap. They held no swords, but they had no need for,in place of hands,they had razor-sharp,chitinous claws. The men had saucer-likeeyes and came at them without emotion, stinking with the vile magic that had recently transformed them.
‘We need help here!’ Eric called and Samuel lurched around to find that waves of Paatin had nearly reached them from that side of the hill.
There were no bug-menhere, but with swords they were just as dangerous, shouting and trilling as they came, howling for blood. Some had scaled the rise further along and now came charging along the crest. Samuel considering putting his ring on again, but he quivered with hesitation. The thing was intensely painful to use and he needed time before subjecting himself to its punishment once again.
The first Paatin drew near and was coming straight for him, but the ring stayed inches from Samuel’s finger, held tightly in his other hand. He wanted to put it on, but somehow he could not do it,for even the memory of the pain was enough to make him recoil. As the curved sword came down upon him, he finally thought to run, too late-but the blow did not arrive. Horse had flown past him and had shoved a pointed finger into the desert-man’s throat, felling him instantly.
‘What’s wrong,Magician?’ Horse asked him in his cumbersome Old Tongue. ‘If you cannot use your magic, you must find other weapons to defend yourselfwith.’
Other Paatin came howling in and Horse danced around their blades. All the while, with each turn and opportunity, he kept one eye towards his god. The Koian warrior would protect Samuel while he could but,if even one Paatin came nearer to her, Samuel knew he would be left to fend for himself. Horse moved deftly and had three tan-cloaked men dead at his feet as more came rushing in upon him. He leapt high, vaulting from the small mound of bodies and into the pack of surprised desert-men, killing the first two while they still had their mouths open wide at the sight of him. Others continued past and made for Samuel and he wasagainleft wondering whether heshould resumewearing his ring or if he should run. This time Horse was busy, for blades surrounded him like a cage of swords and the man was working hard to defend himself.
Whenthe two first Paatin reached him, Samuel was alone. He pushed the ring deep into his pocket and waited. He was not entirely sure he knew what he was doing, but he could not spell and he could not run. There was only one choice left. Stand and fight.
The two blades cameat himalmost together and Samuel bobbed down and stepped in, just as with a Harvest Stance, and found himself squatting at the men’s feet. They only had time to show their surprise for,in the next instant,he turned and leapt back, throwing his back against the men and sending them sprawling. They snarled and regained their feet, enraged at the weaponless magician, and they came at him again, hurling insults in their tongue. Samuel darted in, squeezing between them. The Paatin followed him with their blades, but they could not finish their movements lest they slice each other in two.
Samuel stepped even closer and slipped behind one of the men, grabbing him by the seat of his pants and spinning him around full circle. He then pushed the fellow away towardsanother, leavingbothdesert-man stumbling and disoriented. The two came at him once again and Samuel now realised these men were not seasoned warriors. Anyone with a sword was dangerous, but their steps were awkward and their movements were untrained. He was no longer afraid of them, for he knew he could defeat them,even unarmed as he was. He could sense their actions from the shifting of their weight and their footsteps pointed out their intent like painted arrows. It seemed a simple task to predict their steps.
Now confident, his movements became easier. Unless the Paatin could catch him, they could not harm him. All he had to do was wait for an opening and an opportunity to strike back.
He skipped away lightly as they came leaping and slashing the air with their swords. Samuel watched their steps carefully and took his chance, dancing in and throwing his fist into one of their chins. The pain that exploded in his wrist was terrible and he howled aloud as he shuffled back away from the Paatin pair. He rubbed his tender joint gingerly and scolded himself for forgetting Horse’s advice, for he had struck with a loose hand. The two Paatin followed after him and Samuel vaulted in. Their second step had barely touched the ground bef
ore he collided into them. A solid kick to both sent them toppling head over heels down the hill and he doubted from the way their bodies flopped about that they would be coming up again anytime soon.
Horse had finished off his own cluster of men and came trotting back to Samuel. ‘You hit like a nursemaid, Magician, but you did well in the end. I willlet you spar with my nephew sometime. He is seven, but he is a fair fighter. He would give you a sporting chance.’
Samuel nodded, with little time to return the banter, and Horse boundedoff to return to his god. The desert-men were still coming in swarms up both sides of the hill and Eric was now looking tired, trembling with sweat.
‘We need to do something now,’ Eric shouted. ‘I can’t keep this up much longer.’
Balten heard the call and ceased his spells. He drew something from under his cloak and held it to his lips. All at once, he began to pull more magic from the ether, gathering a cloud of power around himself.
‘What’s he doing?’ Eric asked, looking back with wild eyes.
Samuel stepped to Balten’s side, but he dared not disturb the man, for he was drawing magic around himself in terrible gulps, until he was encased in a brilliant white aura to Samuel’s giftedsight. The object in his hands was a tiny ring and Samuel’s eyes opened wide when he saw it. At first, he thought it was another such relic as the Argum Stone, but it emanated a power that marked it as something entirely different.
Balten opened his eyes and, as if awaking from a dream, he took a moment to recover his senses. He found the ring at his lips and blew upon it, simultaneously sending his entire pool of magic cascading into it. The world swooned around Samuel, as it did when his senses were overcome by great power, but just as quickly the sensation was over. Balten now had the ring balanced on the nail of his middle finger and Samuel was about to ask what the man was intending, when Balten simply flicked it away.
She Who Has No Name tlt-2 Page 29