Each one of them appeared in deep blue, smoothly-polished armour and they marched in perfect unison, following their leader to the podium. They gave the impression of a perfectly drilled military unit and Ahren could see why so many tales of their derring-do had developed over time. They had planned their appearance perfectly, and within a few paces they were surrounded by a jubilant throng that offered them safe passage to the platform by opening in front of them, as if they were walking through a field of corn.
‘That bastard always knew how to turn it on for the crowd’, muttered Falk grumpily, and it struck Ahren that his master was jealous of the love the people felt for the captain who was getting closer by the heartbeat. Then the old man’s demeanour changed, and he put his hand before his face in shock. ‘Oh, Bergen, what have you done?!’ he uttered, and Uldini and Jelninolan too looked at the man in disbelief. Ahren craned his neck to get a better look at the mercenary, who was now no more than four paces away, but he couldn’t make out anything unusual. His distinctive face with its fine wrinkles of a man in his late forties was relaxed and smiling, and he looked at them in an almost fatherly manner as he finally reached the platform. His Paladin armour, lighter and wilder than Falk’s, shimmered in the sunlight, as did his brutal-looking axe.
Falk and Bergen looked deeply into one another’s eyes, and Ahren found it impossible to guess what messages they were conveying to each other after so many hundreds of years. Then Bergen raised his hand upward in a request for help, and after less than a heartbeat’s hesitation, Falk grasped his counterpart’s arm in a warrior’s greeting, and pulled him onto the podium with a quiet groan.
For a moment time seemed to stand still. Ahren wasn’t sure they weren’t going to fight with each other because of the way they were standing – each clasping the other’s forearm, their bodies tense like two aggressive predatory animals. An almost shy smile began to light up Bergen’s face, giving him an impish look, at which point they burst out laughing, embraced and slapped each other on the back. The Cohorts had in the meantime, taken position around the podium, protecting their leader from over-enthusiastic citizens who were still cheering wildly. Then the enormous man released himself from Falk, who looked unusually small in comparison, and turned to face the young Forest Guardian. ‘I hear you were all busy last night?’ he whispered to him.
Ahren nodded a little too keenly. He quickly tried to appear calm, before responding: ‘There was a Doppelganger roaming among the dwarves and we defeated him.’
Bergen smirked at the exaggerated coolness of the apprentice, which he saw through immediately, and punched the young man’s arm playfully. ‘Good work, brother.’ Then he turned and walked to the front of the podium, where he dramatically raised the quill and dunked it in the inkwell.
A deathly silence descended on the crowd, and Ahren’s whispered question could almost be heard echoing throughout the square. ‘Why did he call me brother?’ he stuttered. As an only child, he found this expression particularly strange.
‘This is the address we Paladins use among ourselves. It means that he’s recognised you as part of the family.’ Ahren grinned from ear to ear, and Falk instinctively frowned. ‘Don’t be getting any ideas. So long as I am your master, I may call you whatever I want. Mostly blockhead, but sometimes lazybones’, he grumbled, albeit good-naturedly.
But Ahren was hardly listening – revelling instead in the pleasant feeling of at last being part of the Paladin community. He’d found his first brother, and out there were ten more siblings waiting for him. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to meet them all.
‘The Blue Cohorts hereby accept the conditions as laid down in this peace treaty’, announced Bergen, and signed the parchment with a dramatic flourish.
‘His signature takes up as much space as the rest of them put together’, commented Falk testily, and Ahren looked at his master in dismay.
‘Do you like him or not?’ he asked, coming straight to the point.
‘I love him as a brother, which is why his affectations drive me to distraction. He is my mirror-image as only a direct opposite can be’, said Falk. Ahren chewed the inside of his cheek, trying to follow the old man’s obscure logic.
There was a roar of jubilation as Uldini and Bergen shook hands dramatically, and then the Arch Wizard gestured Falk and Ahren forward, at which point the young Paladin’s knees turned to jelly. He swallowed hard and positioned himself beside Falk and Bergen, and Uldini began to into in a magically enhanced voice.
‘Good citizens of the Brazen City – peace has been sealed!’ he uttered, beginning his speech, and the earth rumbled under the acclamation of the throng. ‘Today is a great day, because today it is our honour to reveal something new to you.’ The earth trembled again, but this time Ahren realised that it had nothing to do with the crowd.
‘The Thirteenth Paladin has been named and is standing here before you. He is ready, along with his brothers and sisters, to face the threat of the Adversary, and to…’ continued Uldini, as the earth shook for a third time.
‘Master, something is very wrong here!’ gasped Ahren fearfully, as a dark, circular object flew with breath-taking speed over their heads, before disappearing over the western city wall.
‘Was that a rock?’ asked Ahren in disbelief, and the first cries of horror could be heard coming from the crowd. The earth shook again, and this time Ahren could see a pall of smoke rising from part of the city wall.
Uldini’s eyes seemed to be spewing molten energy as he growled under his breath: ‘What in the name of all the Dark Ones does my Emperor think he’s playing at? He’s bombarding the city!’
‘But the deadline hasn’t expired!’ cried Ahren helplessly.
‘The Doppler!’ shouted Falk over the noise of the crowd. ‘Who knows what he was up to or where he was before yesterday. I’d bet my life on it that he was down below with the legions, spreading unrest.’
‘Like, for example, encouraging them to move the attack to a day earlier’, said Khara darkly. Another rock flew over her but fell to earth on the other side of the mountain.
‘We have to get to the gate. Maybe I can stop the attack from there!’ shouted Uldini.
Bergen gave a determined nod. ‘Blue Cohorts!’ he shouted. ‘Wedge formation! Proceed to the palace gate!’ he bellowed, and as if by magic the mercenaries moved into position.
‘Fly ahead and hold them up!’ urged Falk to Uldini as another rock hit the city wall. ‘They’re still fine-tuning the catapults and only one in every ten missiles is hitting the wall, but it won’t be long before their vanguard is storming into the city centre.’
‘Which is exactly why I’m staying with you’, snarled Uldini defiantly. ‘If a rock hits you, that’s three Paladins gone in one blow, I can deflect one or two of the damn things, but Jelninolan is hopeless for now.’ He gestured over to the stupefied elf.
Falk bit his tongue and stayed silent and they pressed their way, assisted by the mercenaries, through the panic-stricken people, who were screaming and running helter-skelter. Ahren took Jelninolan by one arm and pushed her forwards, while Khara took her by the other, and unceremoniously bundled anybody out of the way who got too near the elf.
Another boulder whizzed past over their heads towards the far wall, only to drop at the last moment on top of a warehouse, smashing it into a cloud of stones and dust.
Ahren could already see the city gate; there were less than five-hundred paces separating them from the mighty doors, but progress was almost impossible due to the terrified men, women and children chaotically running and stumbling. Ahren felt his throat tighten as a feeling of helplessness and utter despair spread through his body. He realised that they were making no progress now, and his efforts had all been in vain.
‘We need to get the people to safety!’ he screamed at the top of his voice. ‘Then we’ll be able to move forward!’
‘Good idea!’ shouted Uldini in response. ‘You wouldn’t happen to have a second city up your sleeve where
we could store them?’ The Arch Wizard’s tone was cutting, but suddenly Ahren burst out laughing.
Culhen, play the big bad wolf, and pave a path for me to the podium, he ordered the wolf, who had been staying loyally by his side.
The wolf gave him a quizzical look, but then obeyed. With hackles raised and teeth bared, the wolf growled and yelped and howled until a path opened before them.
‘What are you doing?’ shouted Falk, trying to stop his apprentice, who was already beginning to squeeze his way through the narrow gap.
‘I’m sorting out a second city for us!’ cried Ahren. Then he fixed his eyes on the dwarf Xobutumbur, who was still standing on the podium with the other Triumvirate members, trying to deal with the panic. Ahren waved his arms wildly, until finally the injured dwarf spotted him. A ring of city guards had replaced the Cohorts and were guarding the podium, holding Ahren back, and the dwarf had to laboriously lean down in order to be able to hear the apprentice, who was shouting at him.
‘Open the Clan Halls! Let the people in down there!’ he screamed with all his might, but Xobutumbur’s face hardened and he stubbornly shook his head.
‘We have to get to the city gate, and then we can stop this madness! But we can’t do it if the streets are full of people. They’re going to die out here!’ he pleaded. The dwarf’s face revealed the inner conflict that was raging between his loyalty to the laws of his folk, and his pity for the people surrounding him.
‘Do you want to be the hero who saved the Brazen City or the dwarf who tore it asunder?’ shouted Ahren in utter frustration, as he was being pulled away by the throng. Another building was hit by a boulder causing a wave of people to move from left to right, dragging Ahren along in a mass of terrified bodies. The young Forest Guardian tried in vain to resist, and saw the Blue Cohorts fighting their way towards him, presumably at Bergen’s behest, who was pointing in his direction.
Suddenly a horn, which Xobutumbur had pressed to his lips, split the air with a loud, short blast. Then there were two more blasts echoing above the cacophony of terrified citizens. With tears of joy Ahren heard the enormous gates to the Clan Halls creaking open, and he bowed his head thankfully towards the one-eyed dwarf, who pressed the horn to his chest and solemnly looked back at the apprentice.
Cries of relief could be heard everywhere, and the movement of the masses changed direction, as the welcoming caves offered sanctuary to the panicked mob. Less than ten heartbeats later Ahren was carried by the throng as far as the mercenaries, who grasped him firmly and pulled him into the safety of their troop.
‘Well done, boy!’ shouted Falk above the noise, and Trogadon gave him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. ‘You really must have pestered old Xobutumbur. Not even I would have been able to persuade him to open gates. The word of a Clan Elder is law during war.’
Ahren was about to answer but was horrified to see a boulder heading straight for the marketplace. It was going to land slap-bang in the middle of the throng and kill dozens of people. ‘Uldini!’ he screamed and pointed at the falling missile.
The Arch Wizard reacted immediately by making a pushing gesture with his hands, causing the projectile to deviate course and land on one of the empty houses on the edge of the marketplace.
Bergen shook his head disapprovingly, and Uldini puffed himself up to his fullest extent. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ he shouted indignantly. ‘Have you seen the size of those things?’
‘You’re losing your touch’, said the captain sarcastically. ‘I’ve seen you sweep dragons from the sky that were twice the size of that pebble.’
‘I’m using my strength economically, thank you very much’, snorted Uldini, as they continued moving towards the city gate. ‘Who knows how many more of these boulders I’m still going to have to deal with.’
Now that the crowd had created a gap they could slip through, their progress was much quicker. One hundred heartbeats and two further diverted missiles and they arrived at the city gate, which a terrified contingent of city guards was trying to keep closed.
‘OUT OF MY WAY!’ roared Uldini, casting an almighty spell past the soldiers who were desperately leaping out of the way. The powerful magic smashed into the gate and lifted it straight out of its hinges.
‘Now there’s the old Uldini!’ said Bergen admiringly.
‘Shut your gob!’ snarled Falk and Ahren simultaneously, both knowing how dangerous it was to antagonise a wizard that was under the influence of fighting magic.
‘A chip off the old block’, chuckled Bergen.
Uldini, meantime, had floated forward. His body was emitting flashes of lightning in all directions, and his voice sounded like distant thunder as he stepped towards the flabbergasted soldiers of the 17th Legion. They had just ducked out of the way of the exploded city gate when they heard his command. ‘CEASE FIRE!’ Uldini’s thunderous voice shook the ground and rolled down the mountainside. ‘We have a damned peace accord in the bag, and if one more rock comes flying up the side of this mountain, I’m going to send it straight back onto the head of your screwball commander. And now WITHDRAW YOUR FORCES!’
Ahren wasn’t sure if the future scribes of history would see things exactly the same way, but he couldn’t help thinking of a litter of terrified rabbits as he watched the solders of the 17th Legion cast aside their weapons and run helter-skelter back down the switchback while the retreat bugle sounded again and again. Culhen was licking his chops, and Ahren held onto him just in case he decided to bite the panic-stricken soldiers in the backside.
Chapter 23
Their descent off the mountain resembled a force of nature, or at least it must have appeared so to the soldiers on the Plains. Uldini’s rage discharged itself in the form of lightning flashes that exploded rocks, caused the earth to sink, and sent thunderclaps into the valley. Falk and the others kept a safe distance away, not being certain that they themselves would be spared the Wizard’s magic.
‘He’s very close to an Unleashing. We’d best not annoy him. With a bit of luck, he will have expended his energy by the time we get to the foot of the mountain’, whispered Falk. They all kept their heads down and spoke as little as possible.
Another two attempts at bombarding the city were attempted by foolhardy catapult crews, but Uldini made good his threat on each occasion by ensuring the boulders dropped back down on the engines of war, smashing them to pieces. Soon all the crews had fled, leaving the remaining catapults as grotesque warnings on the Plains.
The nearer they reached the valley, the less power Uldini emitted, and when they rounded the last bend in the switchback, the Arch Wizard had almost returned to himself.
‘To be honest with you all, I don’t think I’m going to be the main target of the Sun Emperor’s rage when we’re standing in front of him’, said Bergen smugly, and when Ahren spotted Falk’s grimace, he realised what the mercenary had said might not be that far from the truth.
‘Now that we’re no longer in danger of being roasted alive or crushed by boulders, maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to with your Blessing of the Gods’, asked Falk in a biting tone.
‘What are you talking about?’ interjected Ahren, confused. The Blessing of the Gods was the most valuable thing a Paladin possessed, it made him or her a warrior of the gods, and enabled the Thirteen to fight against HIM, WHO FORCES. Ahren had spent the whole of the previous year protecting his Blessing from the dark god’s attacks, and the very idea that the Blessing of another Paladin might somehow be damaged frightened him.
Falk pointed to Bergen. ‘When he was a Paladin, he was no more than twenty-five summers old.’
Ahren stared at the gigantic Paladin’s strands of grey hair in disbelief. The Paladin looked back at him and grinned. ‘Time hasn’t been so kind to me as it has to you, big brother’, he replied sarcastically.
‘Stop telling fairy tales’, commanded Falk. ‘You know that Blessings don’t wear away. Otherwise, the First would be ancient by now.’
‘The First submits to no rules, but you’re right of course. I cheated a little’, admitted Bergen. He gestured to the mercenaries in their blue armour, who were securing the area around them. ‘Whenever I accept someone into the Blue Cohorts, they receive a little tincture of my Blessing. Enough to make them stronger and faster, and it enables them to live until they’re two hundred years old, provided they haven’t suffered a violent death in the meantime. It ages me one or two moons, but it’s worth it’.
The Paladin’s obvious fondness for his people that his words revealed moved Ahren deeply, but Bergen’s open confession shocked him, nonetheless. ‘You give away some of your Blessing?’ he asked in disbelief, and Falk’s pale face spoke volumes.
‘Why not?’ said Bergen calmly. ‘It’s my Blessing, and if I want to share it with others, nobody is going to stop me. Apart from the gods of course, and they haven’t said anything yet.’
Falk’s eyes were threatening to pop out of his head as he struggled for words. Ahren intervened before things had a chance to get nasty. ‘Luckily, there hasn’t been any serious damage’, he said, glancing reassuringly over at Falk. ‘The Dark Days will be upon us in a few summers and it will make no difference if you’re twenty or forty years old. My master is living proof that a Paladin of advanced years loses none of their fighting strength’.
Khara gasped, and only then did Ahren realise what he had just said. Terrified, he looked over at Falk, who fixed him with narrowed eyes. ‘Interesting’, he said quietly. ‘Would you like to elaborate?’
Ahren shook his head, panic-stricken, and looked to the ground, barely daring to breathe.
You should never antagonise the Alpha, warned Culhen in his mind. Who’s going to feed me if he kills you?
The young Forest Guardian might well have dug an even greater hole for himself were it not for the intervention of the sound of loud clip-clopping. Selsena came galloping down the switchback, her mane flying and her hooves sparkling. Falk’s expression suddenly looked for all the world like that of a godsday student whose trousers had ripped.
The Brazen City Page 38
