"Anything you say, Captain."
"Stop!"
Mark spun around.
"There is no choice!" Mark shouted. "Either help us, or crawl away and doom your lord to a life of humiliation. Christ, Allic would be the first to stay and fight to the end. But if you try to stop us, it will be offworlders versus your sorcerers. And we'll slaughter each other while Sarnak laughs."
"This is mutiny!"
"No shit, Sherlock!" Mark contemptuously turned his back to check on the bombs.
"Shigeru, bring up more slings while we're out. Saito, take his place on the team. We're going to strip this wall of crystals and use them. Now move!"
Mark turned around to face Valdez again, but the sorcerer was gone.
"He went below," Ikawa said. "He might be bringing up his men to stop us."
"Then Sarnak will truly win this," Mark said grimly.
"How can I help?"
Mark turned and saw Stede appear through the doorway.
"You look like hell," Ikawa said, coming over to his friend who had taught him the art of the deathstrike.
"We wondered what happened to you," Mark commented. "The last I saw of you, you were preparing to bring back the wall crystals used in the fight against Macha."
"We ran into an ambush," Stede said warily. "We were pinned up in the hills until this morning. I lost ten sorcerers and two crystals. I had to hide the rest of the crystals in the hills―there was no hope of bringing them in. I probably would have lost the rest of my sorcerers, because we were trying to break into the city and were hit hard. Then everyone was distracted by the blasts and we broke through. I just―overheard that exchange between you and Valdez. Has that man cracked under the pressure?"
"It's just that we believe the city can still be held."
Stede paused. "I'll get my people together." Turning, he disappeared back into the fortress.
"Damn, it still might work," Jose said, coming to Mark's side.
Mark knew they had the advantage right now, but it wouldn't last long. Sarnak would soon have all his people up, ready to swarm upon them. He could only hope that for the moment Sarnak still was divided in his plan, fearful that even this desperate act might be a cover to bring Allic out while his own forces were divided and stunned. With Stede's team Mark realized that they might even be able to work a diversion.
Minutes later Walker stood up. "Ready and armed," he announced.
The north wind swept around them, blowing the smoke from the first three explosions off towards the south, cloaking the distant enemy lines.
"Let's go," Mark shouted.
The team lifted into the air. This time there was a ragged cry of triumph from below.
As they headed out towards the west Stede and his sorcerers rose, carrying several large bundles. The bundles were nothing more than rocks, and Stede swung out to simulate another bomb drop.
As they crossed the river into the west side of the city Mark and his team struggled for altitude.
"All right," Mark cried, "on the embankment promenade, first drop take out the troops, next two for the wall towers covering their advance on the bridge."
"Here they come," Ikawa roared.
Enemy demons and sorcerers were winging up from their positions in the western part of the town. But the diversion was working: nearly half of them were breaking towards Stede.
"Keep it tight," Mark ordered, "shields overlapping!"
The formation pulled in closer together, presenting a larger target. But at the same time the shielding of one reinforced the other, so that a hit in one place quickly dissipated. It would take a dozen or more bolts striking the formation simultaneously, or several slashing into just one man, to have an effect.
Mark felt as if he was flying inside a slow lumbering target as flash after flash struck them, the strain from the impacts not quite dissipated before another shot raised the strain even higher. No one alone could have survived that onslaught, but together they had hope.
Outside the tight formation the Japanese weaved back and forth, returning fire, disrupting Sarnak's sorcerers as they tried to concentrate.
"Turn left, now!"
"Smithie, tighten it up, tighten it up!" Mark cried.
Half a dozen bolts hit Smithie in rapid succession. With a startled cry he dropped his end of the bomb and fell out of the formation, his shield glowing hot.
"Smithie!" Takeo dropped from the formation and dove after the American. Half a dozen of Sarnak's sorcerers broke off attacking the main group to fall upon the two.
Smithie struggled to regain control. Takeo swung in alongside, grabbing and providing support. Mark watched as the two raced towards the citadel, while Sarnak's sorcerers broke off the chase and turned back to the main target.
Younger and Welsh struggled to hold up their load. Mark slowed their flight, trying to keep them within the protection of the formation.
Bolts hit the two, who quickly fell astern and outside the protection of the formation. Suddenly Younger's shield overloaded and snapped off. A bolt nicked the heavy crystal dangling beneath them.
"Drop it!" Mark screamed. If the bundle was hit square on and the clay pot shattered, they'd all be gone in an instant.
The bomb dropped away. Mark averted his eyes at the last second, as the flash snapped out, raising a column of fire a thousand feet into the air.
"Fifteen seconds," Mark shouted, forcing his attention back to the flight.
Younger closed back with the group, seeking their protection, Welsh at his side.
One of the enemy sorcerers was now hit square on. His shielding disappeared, and a bolt from Ikawa cut him nearly in half. The formation flew straight through where the sorcerer had been only seconds before and Mark choked on the stench of burned flesh.
"Five seconds!"
The enemy sorcerers slashed into them again. A buffet ran through the formation from the impact, their collective shields glowing. Mark felt the formation waver, as if it was about to burst.
"Ready!"
"One away!" Walker and his team released.
"Two away. Break left!"
The formation surged upward, their burden gone.
Cutting through their turn, they dove back towards the protection of the citadel, Ikawa and his men covering the retreat.
Mark led the group straight through the expanding column of fire and smoke from the first explosion. He knew it was a desperate act, but hoped that it would throw off their pursuers.
As he hit the wall of smoke he instinctively closed his eyes. They were buffeted by the violent updraft and several seconds later emerged from the other side. He looked over his shoulder. The enemy had broken off, cutting around the column rather than going straight through.
The second bomb hit, followed almost immediately by the third. The two towers disappeared, followed an instant later with secondary explosions from both that mushroomed out at almost right angles from the primary blast.
"No need for a photo recon on that," Jose' cried. "One hundred percent destruction confirmed!"
Valdez, his eyes still stinging from the flash, watched from one of the casement windows as the explosions tore apart the twin towers holding Sarnak's heavy crystals. He felt a perverse fascination, like someone watching passively as a madman smashed a priceless work of art, yet he was unable to turn his gaze away.
The double shock ripped across the river, kicking up a wave that hit the battlements like a hurricane.
The offworlders appeared through the smoke, returning to the citadel.
He looked to the team of sorcerers poised and ready by one of the wall crystals which was pointed towards the sky.
"Do we fire, Valdez?" one of them asked.
To serve my lord unto death, Valdez thought. This had to be death, he realized. In the distance another sound came to him, louder than the first faint ripplings of moments before. It was the sound of thousands cheering. Not in hatred, nor in blood lust, but in hope.
What would Allic thi
nk when he awoke safely, but his city was gone? And Valdez knew the answer clearly at last. It was best at times to let one's lord die in the fighting than to let him live in shame. Better to die screaming defiance than to crawl into the shelter of night.
"My lord, I can hit them clearly," the sorcerer said.
"We're cursed and abandoned by the gods already," Valdez said coldly. "Take that crystal up and give it to the offworlders."
"My lord? We only have three crystals left!"
"Damn it all, doesn't anyone around here understand an order when it's given? I said to take that crystal up and give it to the offworlders. We're staying here to fight."
Chapter 20
During the middle of the second night on the march, Macha gave up trying to beat stragglers back into line. Men were actually passing out from exhaustion in the middle of the road, their comrades dragging them to the side, placing them in the care of civilians, and then pressing on.
But as fast as the twin armies melted away from exhaustion, their ranks were renewed as each village's militia, which had been braced for attack from the south, now fell into rank and joined the host sweeping north―the Torm and Landrian armies marching on parallel roads, a league apart.
The armies were passing through regions of prosperous farms, orchards, and vineyards. The populace poured out to meet them: Word had raced ahead that this was the relief column, rushing north in a desperate bid to raise the siege.
At every farmyard gate women passed out pitchers of water and wine, while their children pressed bread, meat, and bunches of grapes into the soldiers' hands. In the waning light of the twin moons they had seemed like ghostly angels of comfort, hovering in the blue dark light, offering words of encouragement and compassion as the troops pressed along, their column a serpentine line of darkness, cutting through moonlit fields.
Now as the army pressed through the heat of day the women rushed up with buckets drawn from their wells, to see them passed into the ranks and reemerge seconds later, to be refilled again.
Hollow-eyed Landrian officers and cavalrymen, mounted on lathered Tals, galloped back and forth down the line, urging the column to close up, and warning the villagers to secure themselves in their houses, taking the stragglers with them. For once the army had passed, the Subata would be overhead.
"Close up, men, close up, keep moving," the command was shouted until voices were hoarse, a litany endlessly repeated.
Over all hung a dense cloud of dust, kicked up by the advance of thousands of soldiers, wagons carrying supplies, the precious heavy crystals, mounted units, and the growing horde of militia.
Only at the very front of the column could the way ahead be clearly seen. The soldiers moved on, their pace heavy, grim, as they watched the growing pall of fire and smoke on the northern horizon. Macha rode at the front of the column to judge the distance and to try to maintain the pace.
Pausing for a moment to take a drink offered by a peasant child, he heard some excited shouts and turned to see a woman skimming above the treetops, another woman at her side.
Damn, he thought, here she comes to nag me, and he wished that she had been forced to stay at rest for a while longer. For a moment he almost felt a wave of pity for the offworlder who had succeeded where he had failed.
She came in low, landing by his Tal. Her companion, nearly breathless, alighted by her side.
"Fredna here has found them," Storm shouted.
Macha looked down from his mount. For a moment he was tempted to stay mounted, an obvious breach of etiquette. But he thought better of it and slid off the Tal.
"Found what?"
"Your traitor. He's encamped not a quarter turning flight from here. She spotted him while swinging back from a patrol I sent out."
"We barely have enough sorcerers to watch the approaches to our army, which is strung out from here to damn near back to the pass, and you're sending patrols out to look for that scum? Are you mad?"
"It's better than sitting here passively, knowing they're out there and doing nothing."
Exasperated, Macha turned away. He had given express orders that all aerial patrols were to stay within a quick return of the army to provide cover. The Subata host was easily visible, trailing them about three leagues off to the southeast. As they were drawing closer to the city there was the chance that Sarnak, having the advantage of being able to shift his forces on interior lines, could send out a coordinated assault and hit them with all his own sorcerers while the Subata moved in from the rear.
"Listen to me, Macha. I sent out those patrols on my own. They've got results. Are you going to throw the chance away?"
"This could be a decoy," Macha said cautiously.
"It could be? Yes, it could be. You were impetuous enough to attack my brother on what was only decoys. Have you now grown too cautious? But I know for certain that if we don't take the chance, there won't be much left up there by the end of this day."
A dull rumble cut through their conversation, followed seconds later by a second, and then a third. They looked to the north, and low on the distant horizon they could see three plumes of smoke jetting up.
Macha looked at the smoke as if studying it for some hidden clue. A moment later he turned back to his aide.
"Pass the word down the line verbally―no crystals. If anyone is listening, I don't want it known. I want all sorcerers to me! Now move it, damn you, or I'll flame your hide. Once we've gathered and taken off, you're to pass back down the line and tell the troops that we're going to slaughter the leader of the Subata."
Within minutes the army was behind them. Macha looked back at his troops, strung out over miles of roadway. They were marching themselves into the ground. He'd be lucky if a third of his forces were with him by the time they reached Landra. From his vantage of treetop level, he could barely discern the burning city on the northern horizon.
"Over there is the main host of the Subata." Fredna's comment brought Macha back to the immediate problem.
He could see them, some in flight, moving to the fore, while others had settled to rest for a while until at last they were at the end of the column, at which point they would rise again and move to the fore, like an endlessly turning treadmill.
"If they attack," Macha shouted, his voice carrying on the wind, "we immediately return to the army. Is that understood?"
Storm glared defiantly at him, but said nothing.
"I saw them over by that grove―there, just on the flank of that hill," Fredna called.
"You all know how this is to be done," Macha commanded.
There was a chorus of eager shouts in reply.
"Let's go!"
The formation dropped low, skimming several feet above the ground. This was Macha's favorite type of flying. Out on the savannah of his homeland he would fly like this for hours, hugging every fold of the land, skimming down dry gulches, dodging between the open stands of trees. Now he put his skills to the test, at one point dropping into a narrow forest path through a grove, the opening barely wide enough to pass through without turning sideways.
They came in low, placing themselves at the extreme disadvantage if anything was above, but trading that for the hope of surprise.
The payoff came as they skirted the edge of the hill, coming around the base. Storm's sorcerers broke to the right, while Macha led his group to the left. The second wave of Macha's sorcerers came straight up the slope, cresting it high and then slowing to hover above.
They hit the hidden encampment from both sides and above at once.
Before their target knew what had even happened, Macha was in the middle of their camp.
"Damn you all, come here, Zambara," Macha bellowed, landing to confront the terrified men.
"Why are you hiding here?" he roared.
Zambara looked around to his companions for support, but they blanched and turned away from him.
"We could not locate you," Zambara replied lamely.
"Then why aren't you with your beloved
Subata, rather than skulking here half a dozen leagues behind them? You could have at least sent one of those assistants of yours out to look for me!"
Zambara fumbled for words.
"I'll tell you why," Macha roared. "You've thrown in with Sarnak. You hid here, knowing that my people would be watching the Subata and would search for you there and you thought you'd be nice and safe out here by yourselves. You were waiting for me to leave for Landra, and then you'd turn the Sabata loose upon your own people. You're a traitor!"
Zambara stammered, but there was no time to reply. Macha might have given benefit of doubt to the man, but for the fact that Zambara and his assistants had so obviously been hiding.
Macha pulled out his ceremonial short sword.
Zambara's head hit the ground before his body had even started to sag.
Macha turned to face the terrified assistants and pointed the dripping sword at them. "Which one of you is next?"
As one, the five acolytes fell to the ground, wailing.
"Durth," Macha called.
One of his sorcerers stepped out of the ranks.
"You're to take charge here. Take their control crystal and escort these five back to the Subata and get them under control. Do you think you can handle them?"
Durth looked at the five acolytes with disdain. "Snake handlers," he spat. "I soil myself by even being near them, but if you command it, my lord."
Macha stepped up to the acolytes and pointed at them with his sword. "You're to follow Durth's commands without hesitation, you traitorous scum. If but one snake breaks away and causes harm, either to my people or Allic's, you will be blamed. You still face charges of treason, but know my judgment will be far easier if you obey me now."
"Remember," he said coldly, "Zambara was lucky: his end was swift for I had no time to see it otherwise. But I can make one's death very slow," and his voice lowered, "very slow indeed, so that you'll grow old while still young, begging for death to end your torment. Do you understand me?"
The five were on their faces, cowering.
"Then obey me, and serve Durth." He spat on the ground and turned away.
Crystal Warriors Page 30
