Ever so slowly Pina dropped his speed; the men followed suit. The sorcerers behind them started to gain, until they were less than a quarter mile away.
A beam of light shot past Mark to his left. Another arched high, snapping over his head.
He broke right and dove, then came back up again, banking left. Another beam shot past, this one uncomfortably close, so that he had a sudden whiff of ozone.
Damn, this was getting hot.
Another burst shot between Mark and Kochanski. The two broke to either side, then rolled back in, cutting to either side of Pina, who was holding a straight and steady course.
"That's it!" Pina yelled, "Act scared!"
"Goddamn it, I am scared!" Kochanski shouted.
"They couldn't hit the side of a castle at this range."
"Yeah, I've heard that line before... usually it's somebody's last line," Mark replied.
"Lower," Pina cried, and tucking in he started for the ground, with Mark, Kochanski, and the other triad following closely. The ground rushed up to meet them and at the very last instant Pina leveled out, so that they were skimming along at sixty miles an hour, not ten feet in the air.
Except for the fact that they were being shot at, Mark would have found the moment exhilarating. They hugged the dips and folds of the open savannah, swooping up dry creek beds, rising to clear a line of trees, and cutting back down so that the high prairie grass whipped by, striking the edge of their shielding so that their passage left a wavering track in the grassland behind them.
Clearing a low ridge, they startled a herd of giraffelike creatures, which scattered wildly in every direction. For a brief instant Mark found himself in the middle of the herd, weaving and dodging as the animals stood higher than his flight path, looking at him with wide, panic-stricken eyes.
He felt like he was racing through a forest of telegraph poles, while all the time crystal blasts shot past him, igniting the prairie with thunderclaps of smoke and flame.
"Exciting, isn't it?" Pina shouted.
Mark spared him a momentary glance as if he were crazy.
"Next ridge," Pina yelled, and pulled away in a burst of speed.
They cleared the herd and started up a long, sloping hill. The climb slowed them down a bit, while the pursuing sorcerers and demons were still flying straight, thus gaining on them from behind.
"Christ!" A burst of flame licked the edge of Mark's defensive shielding.
The impact caused him to careen off to one side. For an instant he thought he'd fly straight into the ground. His stomach fell away as he arched up high and rolled, cutting between two trees that stood silhouetted on the crest of the hill.
"Those bastards!" Mark roared as his fear changed to rage. Shooting past the hill, he saw Pina starting a shallow bank to the right as he picked up speed.
He looked back over his shoulder and saw the first of the sorcerers crest the hill, then another, and seconds later the enemy unit came up over the top with the demons swinging out to either side to close the flanks. Even above the roar of the wind he could hear the booming shouts of the demons, closing on their quarry.
A blinding flash cracked from one end of the ridge to the other. An instant later half a hundred shields flickered to life as Allic's hidden force rose from the high prairie grass. Ascending, they delivered a devastating volley to Sarnak's battle group, which had already shot past them.
A dozen demons tumbled from the sky, trailing inky plumes of smoke and flame until they impacted to ignite a series of fires in the dry grassland.
The pursuers were now the hunted, as panic-stricken, they broke formation.
Two of the surviving sorcerers and several demons broke towards Mark, Pina, and Kochanski. Mark pulled up high, Kochanski at his side, while Pina continued to bank low, skimming the tall grass.
The sky around them was torn by a hundred bolts of light as the battle became a series of swirling engagements.
Mark shot past a demon who fell by him end over end, his left wing gone from half a dozen bolts. Flying through the demon's smoky trail, Mark pulled up high, straight over the top of the battle.
To his right Walker was swinging in behind a panicking demon, who dodged in a desperate attempt to escape.
A bolt of light shot from Walker's hand; the demon smashed into the ground, trailing fire. Walker swung low as if to confirm his kill, then soared and pulled a victory roll.
"Mark, behind you!" a voice shouted in his mind. Mark pulled hard left and he felt a rush of foul smelling wind sweep past him. A demon shot by, not half a dozen feet away.
Mark rolled up but a blast of light cut in behind him and the demon disappeared in an explosion of fire and scorched flesh.
How? Looking down, Mark saw Pina watching him. Damn, it was just like having a wing man with a radio. Waving his thanks he banked in low, looking for a target.
There was one bright light in the action, however, that outshone all others: Allic. For the first time Mark was seeing his leader truly display his power. Beam after beam shot out, first from one hand and then from the other, as he smashed his way through the battle, outshooting and out flying anyone who dared to approach him. If Mark had ever doubted Allic's ability to lead in a close-in battle, that thought disappeared as Allic racked up kill after kill.
Mark turned away from Allic and looked for a target. He saw Pina flying low to the ground, pursuing and then blasting an enemy sorcerer out of the sky, not sensing another of Sarnak's sorcerers closing in behind him. A bolt of flame slashed out from the sorcerer, hitting Pina's shielding. The impact sent Pina into a skid, so that he brushed through the high grass. He came up wobbly, and his shield shimmered bright red as two more blasts hit and finally overloaded it, snapping it off.
The enemy sorcerer swung in dose for a killing shot.
Before he even realized what was happening, Mark had tucked into a dive. Pina, stunned by the impact of the shots, weaved and dodged to throw off his enemy's aim. But the enemy kept on his tail, lining up for the final shot.
Mark was still several hundred yards away.
"No!" He held up his hand as if trying to block out the image of what he was seeing.
A bolt of light slashed out from his hand and slammed into the sorcerer's back, sending him tumbling. He rolled to one side and regained control, but his shield shimmered red from the impact.
Mark rushed in behind him as the sorcerer pulled straight up, struggling for altitude.
Mark lined up another blast. As if sensing his move, the enemy banked hard to the left in a rolling turn and came straight back at him, dodging Mark's bolt. The sorcerer fired even as Mark pulled a tight roll, and they shot past each other.
They both pulled straight up, looping over, and traded another round of blasts without effect.
The enemy sorcerer banked left, trying to come in behind Mark―but he had seen that old trick a hundred times in the skies over Europe and China. With a short upward pull he extended his arms, willing himself to stop.
His airspeed cut to practically nothing and he rolled to one side, ready to throw off another blast if his foe should try it.
His enemy flew past him not a dozen feet away, and for an instant Mark could see the terror in the man's eyes. The sorcerer desperately fought to kill his airspeed in a last ditch attempt at preventing Mark from getting behind him.
Mark waited until his aim was sure. "Eat this, asshole!" Mark screamed, and he extended his hand. A bolt hit the sorcerer square in the back. The defensive shield flickered off, and with a loud scream the wizard fell, his last shot arching high over Mark's head.
Another bolt shot from Mark's hand and the wizard ignited in a blinding flash. As he fell, Mark followed, hitting him again and again.
The body hit the ground setting the grass aflame. Mark pulled up, coming past at full speed, and as he pulled up he victory-rolled over his fallen foe.
He looked for another target but all was quiet, and he suddenly realized that the battle was over, and th
at, in fact, Allic and all the others had been watching his performance.
Still high on the adrenaline of combat, Mark soared in low towards where they were gathering on the ground and zoomed past, circling high in a loop and coming to a running stop near the other sorcerers.
Allic approached, and offered Mark a drink from the wine sack which he always carried with him, even in combat.
"Masterful, Mark Phillips. Why did you ever doubt yourself?"
Mark looked at his lord, and even in his praise he could still see the pain.
"Your revenge is my revenge," Mark said truthfully. The hatred over what he had seen earlier had finally exploded when Pina was threatened, and he realized that it had been the desire to protect a friend and to avenge the anguish of another which had enabled him to fight and win.
"But never let hatred or vengeance be the sole source of your power," Valdez said, stepping forward to clap Mark on the shoulder. "It is powerful but erratic."
Walker pushed through the crowd and came to Mark's side. "Two kills, Captain," Walker exulted. "Damn it, there's no plane to paint them on, but once we get back I'm having two demons embroidered on my sleeve. Two kills―am I good or am I good?"
The men fell into a round of good-natured jeering.
"Strip the bodies," Allic finally said, interrupting the celebration. "There are enough crystals on the dead to at least balance some of the debt for tonight." He cleared his throat and continued, "I wish to tell all of you how proud I am to have you with me."
A roar of approval went up from the entire group.
"Let it be known that the outlanders now have the rank of Sorcerers of the Realm. You are acolytes no more."
Allic looked around the gathering as if searching for someone. "Ikawa, step forward."
From the back of the crowd the Japanese commander advanced.
"From now on," Allic said, "you are one of my Achmen, my battle advisors. I am pleased to have one such as you serving me."
Ikawa looked around at the assembly and the men broke into a spontaneous cheer. He started to bow low in response but Allic stopped him.
"You are never to bow to me again. You are like Valdez: your words come from the coldness of logic rather than the heat of passion. I need such men. Next month I must go to my father's court, and as reward, you are to come with me."
"And you too," Allic said to Mark. "It's time that the two of you met a god."
The looting of the dead sorcerers completed, Allic's men gathered together and prepared for the flight back. Several of them had taken hits, but no one had been seriously injured.
Allic lifted into the air. One by one the others followed.
Pina walked over to Mark's side. "I wanted to thank you, as well."
Mark waved an acknowledgment.
"Why so embarrassed?" Pina asked.
Mark was silent.
"Ah yes, I see. You outlanders have such strange mores!" He chuckled. "I dare say when word gets around the castle how you bested that sorcerer and saved my life, Chloe will be more than happy to reward you."
Laughing, Pina lifted into the air and banked over to join Allic.
Oh god, would be ever get used to these people's customs?
"Come on," Valdez shouted, flying past Mark. "Allic might praise you, but you've got a damn sight more to learn before I'm done with you."
Shrugging, Mark ascended. He was exhausted, weak, and shaking. It was that way after every battle, when he climbed out of a plane ready to collapse.
Valdez and then Chloe. Well, maybe he could sit in the back of the room and sleep, and at least get ready for the evening.
As he soared, the Americans and Japanese fell in around him. When they cleared the shadow of the ridge, the group was washed by the first glowing red of dawn.
Upwards they climbed, plunging into a low ceiling of puffy clouds awash with a soft pink light. Mark burst through the gentle cloud into the clear light of dawn, arched over, and set a course for home.
* * * *
Ralnath waited until he was sure that Sarnak had calmed down before he spoke.
"I can't believe Allic could be so cunning."
Sarnak's reply came through clenched teeth. "He isn't. Allic is a bull. This came from someone else―probably that damned Valdez."
He watched through his crystal as Allic and the others flew back to Landra.
"My time is coming, Allic. You'll be dead and your city will be mine, and there isn't anything you can do to prevent it."
Chapter 10
Allic's party was flying over a rolling countryside dotted with fields of golden grain, vineyards, and low hilltops covered by eldar trees that reached two hundred or more feet into the sky.
Mark's favorite, the derusa trees, had shed most of their blossoms. He still found it fascinating that the fallen petals retained some of their iridescence, so that here and there a green canopied forest would rise out of a carpet of fading red.
To his right, a dozen leagues away, the Crystal Mountains soared to the heavens, their eternally snowcapped peaks piercing the banking clouds―promise of a lite afternoon storm. From horizon to horizon the mountains shimmered in the sunlight. It was easy to imagine that mountains and clouds were one, both forged from one of the radiant crystals which were hidden beneath the snowclad range.
Mark, Ikawa, Kochanski, and Allic traveled at a leisurely pace, while the escort flew overhead in a protective circle. As they passed over a village or a group of farmers out in the fields, Allic would call out his greetings, and the villagers would look up, astonished, then shout a friendly reply.
Mark could hear the conversations of those below as they slowly cruised along; and the sounds of rushing brooks, laughing children, and the gentle sighing of the wind.
The scent of the land came up to him, as well: the last dying fragrance of the red blossoms, or, where another grape crop was being brought in, the heady bouquet of the freshly pressed juice.
Kochanski asked why it always seemed to be harvest time on Haven, and Allic explained that the gods had done genetic work on plants and crops. Grains matured quickly, and different strains matured at different times. So by alternating crops to replenish the soil, and timing them to maximize yield, a farmer would always have a harvest. The same was true of vegetables and fruits. Indeed, Allic had a difficult time comprehending that because things were not as well arranged on Earth that famines occasionally occurred. Whole provinces actually starved? Unthinkable.
Upon reflection the outlanders agreed that it made perfect sense. In Allic's land, with a climate similar to Southern California where it just got a little chilly during the short winter, and where any drought could be corrected by a team of sorcerers using creativity... of course you would have year-round food crops.
When the time came for the noonday meal, Allic led them over to a narrow valley, set against one of the foothills to the Crystal Mountains, in a region of vineyards held in the highest esteem.
Landing in an open field where the vine masters were supervising the harvest, Allic and his traveling companions were met with a hearty round of good-natured greetings. A crowd gathered, and the visitors were soon escorted to an outdoor tavern at the edge of the village.
Mark had believed that the feasts at the palace were extraordinary, but this friendly meal, set upon rough-hewn tables shaded by towering eldar trees, was beyond compare.
The sweet richness of the freshly harvested grapes mingled with the pinelike tang of the eldars. The narrow valley before them seemed to climb almost to the clouds, step after step of terraces dotted with villages, groves, vineyards, and pastures.
The abundance of the land was matched by the generosity of the meal. It was plain country fare, but there was a remarkable variety: a dozen different cheeses and a score of meats and breads.
And as the platters of food were passed and the women of the village pressed their choicest selections upon the honored guests, the village's men uncorked bottle after bottle from what they th
ought had been the best year. Then a loud argument would ensue as dates and vineyards were extolled or attacked, while at the other end of the table someone would uncork yet another bottle, and another argument.
The sun shifted in its course, the shadows starting to lengthen across the field. Bawdy songs filled the air, joined in by both men and women, and more than one couple had excused themselves to disappear into the bushes. Half a dozen feasters had simply tipped over backwards, to collapse sprawling on the ground. Mark found himself staring into the bottom of his goblet, not sure if the last drink had been a light well-rounded white or a hearty, full-bodied red, or was it that brandy one of the vine masters had brought up from his special stock?
Finally Allic rose from the table, raising his hands in a friendly gesture as he tried politely to decline the shouted invitations for him to stay for a day or week or two.
Taking several bottles that were pressed into his hands, he beckoned for the rest of his party to follow. The guards, who while on duty had to abstain, were immediately at his side. Mark was almost tempted to stay behind, for a girl with light blue eyes and golden red hair which flowed to her waist had made it more than clear that making joy, if only briefly in the nearest hayloft, would be a pleasant way to end his visit.
Mark looked over at Ikawa and Kochanski and saw that they were wrestling with the same desires. A slender dark-eyed girl stood close to Ikawa's side, while Kochanski, to his obvious delight, had two young blondes, one on each knee, vying for his attention.
Allic was looking at them, bemused. Mark sighed, and patting his new friend on the backside, he joined Allic. Ikawa and Kochanski reluctantly followed.
With a polite wave and "Thank you!" Allic ascended, his half-inebriated companions behind him. As they rose, Mark looked down again, seeing his disappointed friend giving him a look that clearly said, You don't know what you're missing. He waved again, then followed Allic as he turned, banking out from the valley to return to their northeasterly heading.
Mark realized yet again how much the tragedy of the previous month still hung over Allic, who enjoyed the visit in the valley, but had not plunged into the celebration with the wild abandon that he was famous for.
Crystal Warriors Page 13
