As Fire is to Gold (Chronicles of the Ilaroi Book 1)

by Mark McCabe

  It took Sara some time to relate the events of the last two days. Rayne’s heart went out to her when he realised the anguish she must have endured at the hands of the sligs, particularly as he could see she had quite reasonably assumed that, at that point, there was no further hope of escape. His astonishment at the intercession of Josef was only exceeded by her revelation of who he claimed to be and where he claimed to have come from.

  Rayne found the old man’s story hard to believe and wasn’t as convinced as Sara had been that the major part of what he had said had a ring of truth to it. He certainly thought her observations regarding Josef’s evasiveness were good grounds for suspicion. He was grateful nonetheless for what Josef had done for them and agreed with Sara that, as he had both saved them and healed Rayne of his wounds, he deserved their gratitude until such time as circumstances indicated otherwise. As to his counsel regarding Golkar, Rayne agreed with Sara that his proposal was ludicrous. It was his view that, assuming Josef’s story was true, his own grief and despair must have marred his judgement. For Sara to go up against Golkar would be like deliberately stepping into a bear trap. It would be suicide.

  “But what can we do?” asked Sara with a hint of desperation in her voice. “If Golkar is bound to catch me, or to turn Ilythia into a wasteland, then there’s nowhere to hide and nowhere to go.”

  “My dad,” replied Rayne, “always said ‘the future ain’t written yet’. Look, even if what Josef says is true, he obviously believes it can be changed. Isn’t that what you said he wanted to do? So, let’s change it. Let’s not follow the path Josef said we took.”

  “I guess that could be right.”

  Although Sara sounded doubtful, Rayne could see that she wanted to believe in what he was saying. He knew he was clutching at straws but they had to try something. “What if we try to get to one of the Guardians before they have it out with Golkar?” he suggested. “Josef might be able to tell us how to do that. They should know what to do.”

  “Yes. I like that,” returned Sara. “I was so confused after listening to Josef. I didn’t know what I should do.”

  They talked on for some time, considering what to do next and going over what Sara had learnt from Josef. They both knew that it was all very well to say, ‘let’s go find one of the Guardians’. Even if they could find out where they were, they still had the small problem of getting there. Presumably, the sligs were still looking for them, and Tug and his men were undoubtedly still out there somewhere as well.

  Rayne felt very uneasy about staying where they were for much longer; he didn’t feel reassured by Josef’s claim that he had concealed their tracks, but he also didn’t relish the prospect of being back on the run again, constantly looking over their shoulders like they had been doing for so long now. And neither of them knew what to do about Josef.

  What would the old man do when he realised Sara couldn’t be persuaded to help him with his plan? He could, in fact, become a real millstone around their neck. His claim that he was dying was certainly believable. From his symptoms, Sara wondered if he hadn’t contracted pneumonia or pleurisy. She wasn’t a doctor but she had seen her grandmother almost die from the former, and that was with access to modern medicines and hospitals. Her symptoms had been remarkably similar to those Josef was now experiencing. Even should he recover, it was doubtful whether he’d be up to further travel.

  After some talk, they decided that the only option open to them for the moment was to try and nurse him through his current malaise. They certainly couldn’t abandon him, particularly after what he had done for them. As frustrating as it was, for they were both anxious to get moving again now they had decided on a course of action, it seemed they would be stuck where they were for a while yet.

  As they talked, they kept a close eye on Josef. It was hard to tell whether his condition was improving or worsening. He continued to slip in and out of consciousness as the day gave way to night. At times he would appear quite lucid and be on the verge of getting up and walking around. At others he would almost seem to slip into a coma, shivering and shaking on the verge of delirium. In one of his more rational moments, they managed to find out some useful information from him, the location of Cloudtopper, Kell’s home.

  It was during one of these brief periods that they outlined their plan to Josef. To their great surprise, he immediately acquiesced. He seemed resigned to the fact that Sara wasn’t prepared for an encounter with Golkar and acknowledged that, even if she were, he was in no state now to teach her what she needed to know.

  He agreed that an attempt to link up with the Guardians was their best chance, but warned them that Golkar would be trying to do exactly the same. They ran the risk of putting themselves in greater danger than if they simply tried to hide out in some far corner of Ilythia. Rather than head for Cloudtopper, he suggested they make their way to the Forest of Annwn. Golkar’s diary indicated Kell had fled there when he became aware of the train of events Golkar had set in motion. It had taken Golkar some time, but eventually, he had found him there and defeated him after a great struggle. If they went there now with some haste they may pre-empt Golkar and be able to warn Kell of the danger he faced.

  “It’s all gone wrong,” Josef lamented despondently. “My grand plan has proved to be nothing but the foolish dreams of an old man. I can’t see what will happen now.” Looking up at Rayne through bleary eyes he went on. “My arrival here has already started to change things. You never got shot by an arrow in my time. I think my visit to the settlement did something to change what happened. I can’t see where it will all lead any more.”

  That gave them some hope. Clearly, the future could be changed. Rayne was puzzled, however, by what Josef had said. He thought it strange that the old man could know anything of what had happened to him. Surely Golkar wouldn’t have put anything about Rayne in his diary, even if he had known about it, which would also seem unlikely.

  In his more demented moments, Josef spoke as if his parents were with him, pleading for them to forgive him for his failure to stop the destruction of Ilythia. Although it was heart-rending to see the way he was tormenting himself, the guilt he obviously felt at least partially explained his reluctance to speak of his parents. He seemed to believe that he had failed them, that he had not lived up to their expectations.

  Eventually, they needed to rest again themselves. When Josef fell asleep once more, they decided to join him. Sara quickly slipped into a deep sleep and Rayne felt himself drifting off shortly after her.

  He was the last to fall asleep and the first to awaken, although the latter was not a natural process. His sleep was rudely interrupted by someone shaking him. When he opened his eyes and saw Josef kneeling over him, he tried to sit up only to find he couldn’t move his body from its prone position. Some strange force held him in place. It was as if he was bound with rope, though he could neither see nor feel any actual physical restraint.

  As he frantically struggled against his unseen bonds, Josef’s soft voice grabbed his attention. “Don’t struggle, Rayne,” he whispered. “I’ve put a constraint over you so you can’t rise from where you are.” Rayne felt a chill run through him as he wondered if it had all been part of an elaborate trap. Had Josef simply lulled them into a false sense of security, feigning infirmity merely to put them off guard? He had them at his mercy now. What would he do to them now that he had rendered them helpless? Whose side was he on after all?

  When Rayne tried to speak, he found his ability to talk had also been denied him. It was as if his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He felt panic rising within him. “Don’t worry,” whispered Josef, apparently sensing his apprehension. “I intend you no harm. It’s just that I mean to leave and I don’t want you trying to stop me, or to talk me out of what I intend to do.”

  Rayne realised that he had no choice but to lie there and listen to what the old man had to say. Once it was clear that he had abandoned his attempts to struggle against the compulsion, Josef spoke again.
“This is my last gasp, Rayne. I’ve managed to push my physical ailment to one side for the moment, though I know I won’t be able to keep it at bay for long. It is taking a great effort and I don’t have the strength to keep this up for more than a little while. I hope it will at least be long enough for me to create enough of a diversion for you and Sara to escape.

  “I can see now that my plans for Sara were ill-conceived. I’m glad that at least I’ve alerted her to what she is capable of, but I should’ve known she would need much more time than is available to come to grips with that, and to accept it. My hope now is that you can safely make your way to Kell, or to Tarak, and that one or both of them may be able to assist her; or failing that, that she might be prepared for one of them to use her power against Golkar on her behalf.

  “At the very least, you two must escape from here. It is my intervention which has brought on your current danger. In my timeline, it was many months before Golkar even got a hint of what had happened to Sara. I owe it to you both to at least help you to escape from the wilderness. After that, well, it’s in the hands of Mishra after that, I can do no more, that’s clear to me now.” Josef paused for a moment and reached out to take a hold of Rayne’s wrist, gripping it firmly while he looked down at him.

  “I’m going now. I’ll draw the sligs well away from here. Make the most of the opportunity. Don’t let what I’m doing be in vain. Please. But before I go, there is one last thing I must get off my chest. I couldn’t tell Sara, but I feel I must explain myself to you. You’ll see then why I’ve been so circumspect. I hope you’ll understand. You see, Sara was right. I do know more than I’ve revealed.”

  A short while later, when Josef had finished his story, he rose and left. Although Rayne knew the restraint that Josef had imposed on him would wear off very quickly, he didn’t bother with plans for pursuit. He understood now why Josef had done what he had. He also knew that Josef was right. It wasn’t something he could share with Sara. She had enough to deal with already. Once he was able, he would wake her. It was essential that they pack up their own gear and get going. The sooner they were away the better. The trail to Annwn would be a dangerous one.

  Chapter 14

  “Here they come.” The cry went up from a number of points as the screaming wave of slig warriors bore down on the eastern wall of Kurandir. Dain swallowed nervously. He could feel a raw emptiness in the pit of his stomach as he looked out at the blood-curdling sight that confronted the defenders. There were so many more of them than he had thought there would be.

  Looking around at the men on either side of him, Dain knew that they would be just as afraid as he was. They were farmers, merchants, labourers, not trained fighters like the horde bearing down on them. With a shaking hand, he managed to draw an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back. Notching it, he tried to quell the shivers that were coursing through his body. His movements were sluggish. Desperately, he fought to overcome the disabling fear that threatened to cramp and bind his muscles just when he needed them most.

  “Hold your fire,” came the cry from the ranger assigned to their section of the wall. “Don’t waste your arrows. Remember the drill.”

  What good will the drill do us now? thought Dain. This is for real. Those are real sligs out there with real axes and real swords and they mean to kill us. All along the wall, he could sense that other men were shuffling nervously, just like he was, awaiting the sligs with a dread you could smell. It was the smell of fear and it covered the parapet like a shroud.

  Below the wall, only some eighty paces away and narrowing the gap at a rapid rate, rushed the line of slig warriors, the bane of the Algarians, sweeping towards them with their enemy’s doom in their hands. The deadly weapons swinging above their heads were already stained with Algarian blood and the defenders of Kurandir knew it.

  They could see their faces now. They looked like beasts, wild beasts with a lust for blood in their gleaming eyes. The din of their screams and curses preceded them, washing over the waiting Algarians, like waves pounding on a rocky shoreline, incessantly, irresistibly, with a potency that suggested they would not be denied.

  Here and there, dotted among the horde, were warriors with ladders. Their intent was clear. They meant to come right up over the walls and it looked like nothing could stop them from achieving that aim, least of all the ragtag band of farmers and townsfolk that awaited them here on the walls of Kurandir.

  Dain drew a bead on one of the warriors. It no longer mattered if he held his aim steady. There were so many of them and they were so tightly bunched, he could hardly miss. They were less than forty paces away now.

  “Fire!” Dain could barely hear the command over the roar from the sligs as they approached the wall. He loosed his arrow. With no time to check whether he’d hit his target, he fumbled for another shaft. Quickly he fired again. This time he definitely caught a slig in the chest. It didn’t stop him though, he kept on coming with the arrow sticking out of his scaly skin.

  The sligs were almost right up to the wall now. Those bearing ladders were preparing to raise them. Dain fired again. Now they were right below them. A ladder slammed against the wall beside him. The man beside him pushed it back. As he leaned over the wall to shove the ladder away, a crossbow bolt pierced his neck. He fell forward, over the wall and into the mass of attackers below. Dain had no time to see what had happened to his companion as he drew and fired again.

  The roar from the sligs was deafening now. He could feel the timber walls shaking. The parapet below him shuddered and creaked. He kept shooting, somehow managing to fire down on the mass of warriors below without exposing himself for too long to the crossbows borne by the second line of sligs. A momentary glance showed ladders up all along the wall. Although some were being pushed back, sligs were streaming up others. A slig head came over the wall only a few men down the line from him. A ranger with a short spear quickly dispatched the beast, driving him back. The ranger almost went with him, having to let go his spear as the slig clenched onto it as he fell back.

  There was no longer time to think. Fire. Draw another arrow. Fire again. Turn alarmingly as a slig warrior loomed up over the wall right in front of him. He hadn’t even seen the ladder. The man beside him lunged at the slig with his broadsword while Dain stood frozen in horror. The slig easily battered his opponent aside. Dain felt his bladder release as the slig turned and looked straight at him. Without thinking, he raised his arms from where they had hung loosely in front of him. He loosed the arrow he held, right at the slig’s face. Point blank range. Slig blood spattered his face and chest as the arrow drove into the terrifying visage before him, piercing flesh and smashing bone as it punched through his opponent’s head. The slig fell back with a scream, disappearing from sight as quickly as he’d appeared.

  Dain drew another arrow and lent over the parapet, catching another slig as he was halfway up the ladder. That one fell back with Dain’s arrow driven deep into his neck, knocking a third slig on the ladder behind him to the ground as he fell. Dropping his bow, Dain reached down and grabbed a hold of the ladder, thrusting it out from the wall. As it fell, a crossbow bolt thudded into the wall beside him, a hair’s breadth from his arm. Quickly he pulled himself back up behind the wall again.

  His heart was pounding. As he reached down to pick up his bow, he realised he was no longer shaking. His bow lay in a pool of blood, whether slig or Algarian he had no time to check. He picked it up and started firing again. A series of shouts and screams drew his attention to his left. A slig warrior had made his way up over the wall and was on the parapet, laying about him murderously with his axe. A second or two later and he was reeling, peppered with arrows. He screamed as he fell forward into the street behind the wall.

  The lads who had shot him were there for just that purpose, a second line of defence. Two of them rushed over and plunged their knives into the body as it crashed to the ground. Dain doubted whether that was needed. The slig was surely dead already. He understood the
need to make sure, though. They were brave lads. With a pang, he thought of Thom. Where was the youngster? He should have got here by now?

  Dain didn’t allow himself to follow the thought. Turning back to the wall, he drew another arrow and fired again. The sligs still hadn’t breached the line. Here and there warriors were making it to the top, but not in sufficient numbers to overwhelm the defenders. They were being brought down quickly. They hadn’t counted on this many defenders. They must have thought there would only be the two dozen Rangers. They hadn’t allowed for organised resistance from the rest of the citizens, their ranks swelled by the rural refugees.

  As Dain drew and fired again, it seemed to him they weren’t making any impression on the number of attackers below them. They might be holding the sligs for the moment, but how long could that last? Thank Mishra they’d sent the women west, he thought. At least Kared would be safe, for now. He’d been given the opportunity to go too. They all had. Only a few of the men had left, though.

  The ranger captain had given them a stirring speech. He’d said that if they could hold the sligs here for a while it would give the rest of the province a chance. The sligs had driven all before them over the last several days and the Algarian farmers had run like cattle being herded towards a slaughterhouse. The only chance for the refugees lay in someone making a stand. That would ease the pressure on the surrounding area, the captain had said. It would give the farmers some chance to get away without hindrance from the sligs and it would enable the defenders further west to form a proper line of defence. There was no one else to do it but them, he’d claimed.

  There were over one hundred armed men in Kurandir to add to the two dozen Rangers. The captain had said the sligs wouldn’t be expecting that. They also had the advantage of the walls. He’d gone on then to point out the debit side of the ledger, how the sligs were a fearsome foe, how they didn’t like to lose, how once they’d taken up a fight they rarely retreated, how all they could hope to do was to delay them, not to beat them, not if they were determined to keep on coming, not unless they satiated their desire for killing and plunder before they reached Kurandir.