"Thinking of Goldberg?" Ikawa said, more as a statement than a question. Again there seemed to be that ability to almost read what the other was feeling, and he looked at the Japanese captain.
"He could still be alive," Ikawa said gently.
"Who? Oh, Goldberg you mean. Perhaps." Mark turned away.
"All right," Mark commanded, going to the men who were his only link to the other world, "time to stand to. Dawn soon."
The men started to stir, cursing.
Ikawa walked back towards his own command and Mark fell in by his side.
The mist around them was slowly dissipating, the sky behind them shifting from deep indigo to scarlet and orange.
"You know, Mark, at times I almost fear what I am becoming here. There are times when I can somehow see... see what is around a corner, waiting and lurking. And then I wonder if by seeing I am drawn to that path, or can still change it, and the seeing is nothing more than a warning."
"Go on, spill it. What's bothering you?"
Ikawa turned away from Mark and walked over to the barricade, Mark following in his footsteps.
Through the mist they could hear Macha's troops stirring, the noises for a day of slaughter.
"They have something over there." Ikawa's eyes were full of fear.
"I dread this day," he whispered. "There is something over there, something I can almost smell."
"And you think that death will take you today," Mark said evenly. God, how often he had climbed into a plane with that certainty of death hovering over him. Convinced that when he again touched earth, he would be trapped in flaming wreckage. And yet at the end of the day he would climb out of the plane, his legs trembling, only to lie awake that night thinking that tomorrow would be The Day.
He knew what Ikawa was fearing, and no words could drive it away.
Mark lay his hand on Ikawa's shoulder.
Ikawa looked back at him―then his gaze shifted past Mark and his eyes grew wide.
Mark spun around. Nothing was there except the mist, now bunting away. A breeze came drifting across the field to blow away the last of the mantle of grayness.
"I saw something," Ikawa said.
"What?"
"I thought I saw something rise into the air and come back down."
Ikawa pointed to the sentries posted along the wall. Several of them were peering intently towards the enemy encampment, visible at last now that the mist was nearly gone.
"Whatever it was, it's back down now," Mark replied. "Most likely a sorcerer or demon rising for a quick scan."
Ikawa was silent.
All around them warriors were forming into ranks. Pennants swirled and stretched with the coming of the breeze. Morning was upon them, and with it the promise of battle.
"We'd best see to our people," Mark said. "I'll meet you at Allic's tent,"
"Our job is to hold," Allic said to his unit commanders. "As long as we hold the top of this pass, Macha cannot break out onto the high plateau."
"But a number of raiders have already worked their way around us," came a voice from the back of the tent. "My homestead is only a half-day's ride from here."
"Damn it, we can't stop all of them," Allic snapped. "Some raiders are bound to work their way around. But the main force is blocked. They don't dare to leave an organized foe in their rear."
"I've detailed half a thousand Tal riders to hold the raiders in check and to keep our communications open. But here is where we have to stop their main force, until the other frontier armies can join us. I've stripped Landra to hold Macha here. Damn it all, it's here that we hold him, or your farmstead and every other farm in the province will be gone inside a week."
"Pina, what do you estimate their forces at?"
"Forty thousand, my lord."
From the silence in the tent Mark realized that Pina was only now admitting in the presence of his subcommanders just how bad he felt the odds really were.
Allic smiled, as though relishing the chance to prove his skill against an extra enemy or two.
"We've got the wall crystals here; that will cut them down," Allic said. "Have the ranks form the standard shield wall when the attack comes."
"Ikawa, are there any projectiles left for your weapons?"
The others in the tent murmured among themselves. The miracle of the guns had brought them the precious time needed to strengthen their position.
"Not enough to make a difference now," Ikawa replied. "We should hold what we have left as a final reserve."
"All right then, place your weapons in this tent. If need be I'll give the command to use them."
"Mark, I like the way your people fight when they fly," Allic continued. "When the battle is joined, can you lead the whole group of offworlders like that again?"
Mark looked over at Ikawa. His people had no training or instinct for the close formation fighting, but they'd have to try.
"Yes."
"Then I'll lead my sorcerers up. Mark, you command the offworlders. Fight them as you see fit."
Allic smiled at Storm. "Macha has no idea you're here yet, so when you..."
A distant thunder filled the air and rolled away. It pulsated again, louder than before, and then yet louder again.
"The drum roll of the Subata," Pina said quietly.
Mark saw the hesitation cross Allic's features.
"Full ground defense!" he snapped at the frightened trumpeter who had burst into the command tent. "Form squares with shield walls, sorcerers stay in squares."
The signaler rushed from the tent, and within seconds half a score of trumpeters were sounding the commands. The camp outside broke into pandemonium as the ground troops rushed to take position.
"Pina, all sorcerers are to man heavy wall crystals," Allic shouted, and then he turned his gaze on the offworld commanders. "Mark, rally your people here and hold the center square; don't go up or you're lost. Ikawa, stay with me but send your Saito to the next square with several men. We'll need them to help fire one of the wall crystals."
As Mark and Ikawa emerged from the tent, an ominous pulsing washed over them. In counterpoint to it came a distant rolling chant: "Torm, Torm, Torm."
"What the bell is going on?" Mark shouted as Storm dashed out of the tent after him.
"The drums mean that Macha has brought up his regiment of Subata."
"What the hell is a Subata?" Mark cried.
"Look, here they come!" Storm pointed off to the south.
Ikawa was already staring in that direction, a look of primal terror in his eyes.
Mark turned southward, and his cry of fear echoed the anguished shouts of those around him.
* * * *
"My lord, there should be no stopping them now. It has been long since their last feeding."
Macha looked to the commander of the Subata, and the sorcerer grinned at him with wolfish delight.
Macha felt a wave of revulsion. The Subata were needed, but they were a weapon of desperation, not a worthy one. A man should be met by another man, with spear, or bolt and shield. This bestial slaughter was not to his liking at all. But he had lost too many already; he wanted this fight concluded before Allic's other forces could unite.
"Just see that they don't turn back on us. If they do, I'll have you staked out for your lovelies to finish off."
The sorcerer tried to show defiance by refusing to turn away from Macha's gaze, but at last he broke. He feared not that the Subata would turn, but that somehow Macha would be able to read the other thoughts, the hidden work, the secret plan in service to another lord.
A shadow passed over them―a shadow that blotted out the sky. A foul wind blew across them from the beating of thousands of leathery wings. Macha gazed upward as the Subata host moved forward to the attack.
For a moment Macha almost felt pity for Allic. His army could never withstand the Subata. With luck, before the day was out the fools would be relieved of this renegade Allic, who could so brutally stab his neighbors in the back.
* * * *
The plains and hills surrounding Landra were filled with Sarnak's army. His sorcerers and demons already had full command of the air since they far outnumbered the skeleton force Allic had left behind.
His engineers were already completing the pontoon bridge that would allow him to cross the river and attack the west side of the city, further dividing its defense.
Sarnak stood on the crest of the slope, his banners fluttering in the breeze, his cape swirling out in the wind behind him. The sun shone upon him and he was content.
I have never felt so alive, so complete, as I do at this moment, he thought to himself. If only it could last forever...
His field commanders were doing well, maneuvering the men with practiced ease, sending out skirmishers to test the walls, drawing the fire of Allic's heavy crystals so their positions could be marked.
Already he could see that Allic had played into the trap, for his spies had reported nearly two dozen of the heavy weapons but a month ago, but only twelve could now be spotted. So the fool had left his city naked for the taking. Perhaps this plan could work completely after all.
"Soon you shall be the prince of Landra," Mokaoto said evenly. "Let me be the first to congratulate you."
Sarnak turned and gazed at the Japanese officer.
"Tell me," he said smoothly, "was it usually the custom in your army for officers to congratulate each other before the battle had even started?"
Mokaoto was silent at the reprimand.
"Perhaps following your logic I should congratulate you on what you plan to give your former commander once this fight is completed."
At the thought of his revenge Mokaoto smiled grimly.
"To achieve your dreams, you must first risk," Sarnak said evenly, "as I now risk. You may therefore have the honor of leading the first wave of sorcerers against their wall, signaling the general attack."
Mokaoto did not flinch or look away.
Whatever this man is, Sarnak realized, he does have courage. Useful, but also a liability. He had sensed that this man's power was still growing. Courage, combined with cunning, could be a benefit, but it could present problems, too.
"Now go," Sarnak said coldly.
Mokaoto lifted into the air, shouting the signal for the attack.
A tumultuous shout came up from the throats of tens of thousands.
The first wave started in.
Within seconds the walls of Landra were wreathed in fire and smoke as wall crystals fired, and heavy battering crystals, dragged all the way through the tunnel by gangs of laborers, fired in reply.
Even as the thousands rushed forward, more men poured from the opening of the tunnel which had been blasted out of the hills, a league beyond the city wall. The reinforcements emerged in joyful anticipation of the pillage about to begin.
Sarnak also laughed. The two armies which should be allied against him were tearing the life out of each other, far to the south.
* * * *
"Christ in heaven," Walker screamed. "What the hell are they?"
Mark stood riveted in terror, as his men and the Japanese formed up beside Allic. All around them sword- and spearmen prepared to receive the attack.
At first it had seemed like a black cloud rising from the Torm camp, but it was a cloud made up of thousands of individual shapes.
"They're fucking snakes!" Giorgini cried. "Fucking snakes that fly!"
"Holy merciful god," Mark whispered. There were thousands of them, and the smallest were at least twenty feet long. Larger ones were two, even three times that size. Their bodies seemed to be shaped like airfoils, and they flew by means of an undulation combined with the flapping of thin, batlike wings that spanned a distance nearly as wide as they were long.
Now he understood Ikawa's foreboding. He turned to the Japanese captain, but Ikawa was rigid, almost catatonic.
Jesus, he was terrified of snakes, Mark remembered, and now this!
"Ikawa," Mark yelled, "you've got to hang on; you've got to defend yourself!"
There was no response, only a blank look of despair.
All up and down the line Allic's men braced for the onslaught, forming into a dozen squares, one to each wall crystal, the formations checkerboarding the confines of the earthen-walled fortress. If there had been a hope for escape, panic would have broken the position then and there. But after the initial terror, all seemed to realize that in running there was no escape, for the Subata would hunt them one by one. Only through squared shield walls and a hedgehog of spears pointed upward could they hope to survive. Grimly the warriors fell into their positions.
In the center of each square a wall crystal was deployed, a sorcerer and several assistants behind it to aim the heavy weapon. The sorcerers, defensive shields could be seen turning up to maximum all along the front.
Mark brought his own shield up and looked over at Ikawa, who still was silent, without shielding of any kind.
"Private Takeo," Mark cried.
"Here, Captain."
Mark beckoned towards Ikawa and the young private went over to Ikawa's side. Standing next to his commander, Takeo brought up his own shielding to protect both of them. He would not be able to fight, but at least his commander would have some protection.
A lightning flash cut through the air from the first wall crystal; one of the snakes tumbled from the sky. In seconds all the wall crystals were in play. To Mark they looked like searchlight beams cutting through the morning air. Wherever a beam touched there was an explosion of flesh and another snake fell, hissing. There'd be a momentary pause as the sorcerers working the crystal focused their strength, and then another flash of light.
But it was not enough. The leading edge of the darkness swept over the embattled camp. The Subata were upon them.
Never had Mark heard such a mind-numbing cacophony―the screams of thousands of terrified men, the explosive snap of crystals firing, the steady thunder of the drums, and a shrieking hiss, almost like nails on a blackboard, that came from the Subata as they swooped in.
All around him his men aimed and fired, gathered their strength, and fired again. But so powerful were the snakes that many could absorb several blasts from an individual sorcerer before they finally went down.
The men comprising the square around Allic's command tent held to their positions. At first the Subata would drop singly, looking for an opening in the hedgehog of spears. Sharpened blades would lash up at them. More than one man would hook into a wing and then be borne aloft as the snake soared to escape. Mark watched in horror as a man refused to release his embedded spears.
The warrior was lifted up out of the formation. In an instant several snakes closed in, their joyful shrieks filling the air, the largest of them snatching the man whole with its gaping jaws. The two halves of the spearman's body fell back to the ground, spraying blood.
A score of Subata swooped in low, heading straight at Allic's square. Several of the beasts slammed into the shield wall, cracking it like a egg. Allic charged forward to meet them, Storm and Mark by his side, sending blast after blast into the press of beasts, some of which now folded in their wings and slithered across the ground.
A snake reared in front of Mark, its head as large as a horse, its basilisk eyes gazing at him with the look of death. Mark fired; the snake recoiled.
Suddenly its mouth opened and out sprayed a milky foam. Horrified, Mark watched as a spearman next to him caught the spray full in the face. Shrieking, the spearman fell clutching at his eyes―while a dark cloud that stank of burning flesh coiled up around him.
Mark aimed another blast, slicing off the snake's head. Still spraying its poison foam, the Subata fell backwards, headless body twisting.
All about him was madness. More snakes pushed in, trying to break the square, while overhead others hovered, pounced, withdrew, sprayed poison on their foes, and then positioned to pounce again. More men were dragged aloft, to be torn apart in an insane frenzy of feeding, their blood
and shattered bodies raining down on those below.
"Saito's square!" someone screamed.
Through the wild press of battle Mark could see the square to his left going down, crushed by a hundred or more snakes. The wall crystal fired and fired, but it was not enough. Suddenly in mid shot the crystal spun around, the flame slicing straight into the ranks, cutting down a score of men. The square disappeared beneath a writhing wall of movement as hundreds of Subata moved in for the kill.
"Banzai!"
Startled, Mark turned to see Ikawa rising into the air, his defensive shield off.
The Japanese's eyes were wide with a wild frenzy.
"Jesus, Ikawa!" Mark screamed. "Grab him, grab him."
Several Subata immediately swung toward the sorcerer.
A flash snapped from Ikawa's hand, smashing his first attacker in the forehead. The snake crumpled, impaling itself on upraised spears.
Another snake came up behind Ikawa, who rolled in mid flight and struck it down with another single blast.
But the third closed in for the kill.
"No!" Mark soared upward, firing blast after blast. Behind him there was a wild shout: "Banzai! Banzai!"
Transfixed, Mark saw the battle frenzy take hold of the Japanese warriors.
As one they rose, rushing to the aid of their commander. Half a dozen bolts slashed the serpent even as his jaws closed around Ikawa. The beast fell away, hissing.
"Banzai!" The Japanese followed their leader, who cut through the serpents, driving forward to the next square which was disappearing under the attack. The Japanese cut through the press, slaying any that dared to oppose them.
All rational thought gone, Mark followed in their wake, desperate to cover their advance, firebolts all around him. His men were following, flying by instinct in tight formation.
For a brief flash Mark saw Storm in the middle of the melee. But this was another Storm, a woman more like the elemental fury he had first met in the sky. Darkness was gathering about her, a swirling cloud of power, flashing fire, and driving wind.
They were over Saito's square. Most of the footmen were down, the snakes giving themselves over to a frenzy of feasting. But in the center there was still a knot of defenders.
Crystal Warriors Page 24
