by Alex Janaway
‘You OK back there?’ he pulsed to Jussi.
There was a few seconds pause …
‘Yes! OK. Almost fell out of my saddle. My crate’s alight!’
‘You hit it?’
‘Um, I think it was one of their arrows.’
‘Good enough, Jussi. Let’s get another one.’
Things were working out. The two who had volunteered to stay in the hut must have lit the reservoirs of pitch they had laid under the duckboards under piles of kindling. He needed to see.
They arrived at the lines of barrels, and, as before, Arno slowed and gathered a barrel up. The eagle pulled himself up into the air and was winging back towards the square, this time taking a wider route around rather than over the hall. There were a lot of wood elves gathered there. As they curved towards the gates, Owen’s heart was cheered to see more duckboards had caught alight. The gate was burning as well and whoever had been left behind had disappeared from view.
‘Jussi, let’s put two more barrels on the walls. I want they route sealed off before they realise. ‘
‘Yes, Owen.’
‘Aim for the gate entrance.’
He hung back, letting Jussi take a run. His barrel clipped the side of the gate hard. Close but not perfect. Owen swore. They had to try this another way.
He made Arno fly past, along the ridge line, and then start a run towards the outside of the gate. They skimmed low to the ground, the sounds of battle somehow clearer. A few figures were running along the path and dived out of the way, at least one falling off the edge.
‘Drop!’
Arno released, and the airspeed of the barrel made it fly towards the open gate. As they pulled up sharply, the barrel clipped off the side of the discarded ram and cannoned into the gate frame, exploding pitch everywhere. That should do it. Now they had to be quick. They flew back to the promontory, this time landing and collecting another flaming brand.
Owen took Arno on another strafing run, this time along the ridge, over the gate and onwards towards the hall. The steps were still crawling with wood elves, although some were now in the square, running towards the gate.
‘Arno, release!’
He was over before he could see how it landed, and he was already turning. Jussi was right behind him. ‘You hit the centre of the steps!’ he pulsed.
As Owen flew by, it was easy to spot where his and Jussi’s barrels had landed, just before the entrance covering dozens with their contents. And, as he’d hoped, the pitch had splashed on to the braziers that flared brightly as the pitch gained hold. The wood elves were spreading out, many running away from the flames, some, who had been hit, struggling to put themselves out. Good luck with that.
The pitch trenches under the duckboards were now all glowing, flames licking up through the boards. It would make it harder for those within their bounds to get out. Especially as the gateway was becoming increasingly impossible to cross.
He collected another barrel and set up for a run back to the hall entrance. The sack barricade was alight, but he wanted more. He wanted them trapped. He bid Arno gain height and as they passed over the gateway, they started a shallow dive. As they passed over square, wood elves scattered.
‘Arno, flare!’
Arno spread his wings, stalling their speed just as they reached the steps.
‘Release!’
The barrel fell from his talons and landed just in the doorway. Perfect. For good measure he dropped his brand on to the impact area. He wanted those inside to stay inside.
‘Quickly, Arno,’ he urged, and Arno started to gain height.
‘Shit!’ He felt something press against his leg. And then Arno banked sharply. He looked down, an arrow was sticking out of his leg stirrup. They moved away from the plateau, the valley below them. He shifted his leg gently, something sharp rubbed against his skin. He remembered the wood elves were poisoning their weapons. He took a breath and stilled his movement. ‘You alright, Arno?’ He felt no distress from the eagle.
He looked for Jussi. ‘Jussi, be careful. They are taking notice of us now.’
‘I know!’
‘Hit the gate again.’
‘OK!’
‘And stay higher, drop from out of their range.’
He watched Jussi return towards the line of barrels and bid Arno to fly level. He leaned out and over to inspect his leg stirrup. The arrow was sticking out just below his knee. Owen shifted position, tightening his grip on Arno with his legs and holding on tight to the pommel. With his one free hand he got hold of the arrow. With some tugging backwards and forwards, it dislodged, and he let it go, falling into the valley below. Righting himself he let out a lungful of held breath.
Once more back to the promontory, another barrel and then he was back at the hall. Below, large numbers were gathering at the foot of the steps.
‘Release!’
The barrel fell, a little to one side, but the reaction was palpable. As he turned his head to watch, the crowd scattered. Just ahead, there were many wood elves running for the gate. Arno climbed higher.
Below, the network of pitch trenches glowed yellow, orange and red, spreading out like the veins of some monster of legend. Where the veins entered the other buildings, it made them look like they were the beast’s organs. The buildings were starting to smoke. More stores of pitch and lumber would ensure no one could seek shelter in them.
‘Jussi?’
‘Owen?’
‘Let’s stay high, use up the rest of the barrels. Hit them wherever they group up.’
Owen and Arno returned for another barrel. Fortunately, no one had sought to retreat to the promontory, and another set of wider trenches, burning brightly, now blocked their way. He’d pick up Conor when it was done, get him somewhere safe.
Arno was finding the going easier, gliding on the ever-expanding thermals. Fires were up all over Eagle’s Rest and the heat would start to become unbearable. All the buildings were blazing. A great flash of light and a boom marked an explosion as a store of pitch went up. Even Owen turned his head as the heat washed over him and Arno screeched his alarm. He blinked a few times, letting the after-image fade away. He located the source of the explosion – the grain store. Only one structure was left untouched, only one had no duckboards leading to it. The roosting barn. A clear area had been created around it and the roof had been soaked with water to resist any embers. Hopefully it would survive the night. As for the hall, the fires on the platform and in the doorway were fierce and starting to lick up towards the roof and along the sides. More pitch had been applied to the wood along the base of the building.
Jussi pulsed him. ‘Owen?’
‘I’m here.’
‘Look in the square, they are trying to get in.’
He looked. Some of the mantlets were being collected and pushed forwards towards the fires, one was dropped on to the steps, the other going forward, no doubt to smother the flames in the doorway. He chided himself for not crediting the wood elves with the intelligence they deserved. Or indeed their desire to protect one another. He had forgotten they were not wild beasts.
He directed Arno to pass overhead and released his barrel. It landed just behind the mantlet, right on those that carried it. They split apart like shards of glass, covered in pitch and, for some, into the flames they had tried to avoid.
‘Jussi, watch the gates. No doubt they’ll try to escape that way using their mantlets as cover. Stop them.’
‘On it.’
Owen returned for one more barrel. And once he had it, he let Arno circle high above Eagle’s Rest. Another building exploded. He let the debris settle then scanned for wood elves. Many were gathered in the centre of the square. It was as good as place as any to let fly. On his bidding Arno dived straight for the crowd, he released and then righted his trajectory, tipping upwards once more. A loud ‘crump’ and cries or pain followed them.
‘Owen, another group made a run for the gate.’
‘You take them?’
�
��I think so! It’s hard to tell now, there is fire everywhere.’
‘Good. You go and get the last barrels. I am going to keep watch.’
Arno gained height and they circled above Eagle’s Rest. Jussi returned and cruised around until Owen spotted another group making their way around to the promontory. The flame trenches should stop them but, just to be sure …
Sweeping low Arno raked the half dozen wood elves. Then he curved around to the other side, making sure that was clear before he returned to the square.
Jussi, passed by below him, a black shape against the fire, and dropped his final barrel. Owen tasked him with going to pick up Conor and getting him away. The cave to the west, where the camels were secreted seemed sensible.
He stayed on point, but had to go higher to escape the heat and Arno went in a wider circle around his home. It was quite a sight. The light coming from the fire made Eagle’s Rest glow like the mouth of a volcano, illuminating everything around it, and the snow-capped peaks reflected the light back. It might have been the entrance to the Hells, such was the screaming coming from below. There were still wood elves alive down there, but they would be roasting. There was nowhere to hide. He knew he ought to feel something, but nothing came. Their deaths were necessary, wanted even. They deserved this fate. What did matter were those within the hall. It was well ablaze now. And it was only a matter of time before the roof caved in and anyone underneath it buried.
Owen told himself it should all work out as planned. It had to.
CHAPTER 24 – KILLEN
Killen listened to the panicked shouting, the frenzied action of those above, trying to cut their way free of the fires. But the walls themselves were daubed in pitch. There would be no way out through the fire. The chopping of the axes had ceased, just after they had broken through and encountered the bars. A few arrows aimed in their direction had stopped any further attempts to gain entry.
Rashad came to stand by his side.
Together they listened to the sound of the fires raging, and the movements of the wood elves fading.
‘It’s starting to grow warm,’ observed Rashad.
‘A little,’ agreed Killen. Through the holes cut into the trap door it was obvious things were going to get very bad, very soon.
‘Heat rises.’
‘Yes, looking on the bright side.’ Killen turned around. Apart from his scouts, everyone had retreated further into the passages and rooms within the rock. There were a few torches providing a gloomy light in the dark. Considering the situation, he felt there was no need for any more. The flames flickered as an air current flowed by, the benefit of old airways leading to the sheer walls of Eagle’s Rest. At least they wouldn’t suffocate.
‘When that roof comes down, is the floor going to take it?’
‘It is solid.’
‘Except right here?’
‘Mmm.’
‘Let’s pull back a little.’
Rashad nodded thoughtfully.
‘Everyone step away from the stairs. Get something solid underneath you,’ Killen ordered. There was gentle shuffling as the scouts withdrew.
Killen paced backwards, keeping his eyes on the stairs. He bumped into someone. ‘Sorry–’
‘It’s alright,’ said Naimh, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The stood in silence for a while, listening to the flames and distant cries and shrieks.
‘It sounds like it’s working,’ she said, quietly.
‘That it does.’
‘Will we still have to fight those that are left?’
‘That depends. If we caught enough of them inside, within the walls I mean, chances are we’ll have knocked the fight out of them. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.’ He looked at her in the gloom. ‘If it comes to it, more fighting, my scouts and I will do what needs to be done.’
She shook her head. ‘We’ll do it together. This is … was … our home. The Highlands are our home. It is our responsibility to defend it.’
‘Not much of your home left up there,’ Killen said and instantly regretted it. ‘Oh. That was thoughtless.’
She squeezed. ‘You are not wrong. Eagle’s Rest is gone. But then, we all knew it would come to that.’
‘What comes next? You rebuild?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s what we agreed … but …’
‘But?’
‘But I no longer trust Owen’s motives. Not after this. I need to … I need to talk to him.’
‘If he survives the night. Who knows what’s going on up there?’
‘If he does survive, he might wish he hadn’t.’
Killen opened his mouth. Then shut it. Best not to get in the middle of this one. He would prefer to watch those particular fireworks from a safe distance.
They stood vigil for many hours, even after it was clear that no attack was coming and many of the others retired to rest. At some point before dawn, everyone was awoken by an almighty crash as the great beams of the hall’s roof come crashing down. The cavern shook with the impact and splinters and chunks of rock fell upon those gathered below.
But there was no collapse. After that, Killen felt he had earned a couple of hours rest. It would still be a while before they could use their escape route anyway.
CHAPTER 25 – OWEN
The fires did not die down for a very long time and, as the sun cleared the western peaks, many of the buildings still burned. Isolated patches of flame dotted Eagle’s Rest, and columns of black smoke twisted high into the sky. It looked so much like the dying embers of a funeral pyre, that the impact of that realisation struck Owen hard. For he had slaughtered not only wood elves, he had destroyed Eagle’s Rest. He had sacrificed it. ‘Dammit all,’ he uttered, angry at his own weakness. He had had to. There had been no other way. He shook his head. They had victory. Close by, Ernan and Erskine were maintaining their own vigil. They and Anneli had returned a few hours earlier. Jussi was back on the promontory, Anneli staying with him. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. The night’s work had taken its toll.
The three of them looked for survivors amidst the destruction. They had seen figures moving in the predawn light, dark shapes upon the ridgeline. Owen had taken his Riders into a strafing run and those shapes had bolted. It was obvious, even with the gate going up like that, some smart ones would have found a way to weather the firestorm.
He raised his arm and got the attention of the brothers. He pointed back towards the promontory and turned Arno towards it. Once they had all landed, he gathered his Riders.
‘It’s time we went to find our friends.’
‘You still think they made it out of that?’ asked Erskine, his usual negative self.
‘You saw the roosting barn, brother,’ chided Ernan.
‘Doesn’t mean anything. You saw the hall collapse.’
‘They will be OK,’ said Anneli, a tremor in her voice.
‘The plan worked, they were in the hall. They live.’ said Owen, firmly. ‘Jussi?’
Jussi looked up. His face was pale. ‘Yes, Owen?’
‘Take your eagle back up. Watch the ridge line. See if anything is moving. And stay in contact.’
Jussi nodded. Owen reached out and squeezed his shoulder. The lad didn’t need to see what was beyond the cairn.
‘Anneli. Stay here with the birds. You see anything, holler.’
She picked up her crossbow.
‘Yes, Owen.’
He pointed at the brothers. ‘You two are with me. Let’s work our way to the roosting barn. ‘Stay close, be ready for trouble.’
He stood, put his spear across his back and collected his crossbow. Then he led the way past the cairn and towards the settlement, along the path that, a little way ahead had the remains of another fire trench cutting across it. There was a fair amount of residual heat but he was able to step into it and made a couple of short hops to the other side as Jussi flew overhead. They skirted around the rear of the hall, or rather what was left of it. An almighty pile
of smouldering embers, stone and larger pieces of timber that were still burning. The funeral pyre. The heat it was giving off was almost too much to bear.
Beyond that was the wasteland. Owen could mark out every building and yet only piles of charred rubble remained. Further away the remains of the gates were marked out only by the small stone structure set to one side of it. They’d check that next. Clustered ahead of him was another pile, and this was no wreckage. Closer now, he could smell it. Burnt flesh, like a pig’s. It was a familiar smell to him, though the gnomes they’d burned had had an acrid stink.
‘Gods,’ muttered Erskine.
‘Look, there’s more,’ said Ernan, pointing towards the centre of the square. Bodies lay everywhere, but not burned or blackened. They had died of the heat and the smoke and the lack of air; their chests burning with each breath, sucking in the very poison that would kill them. Owen wondered how many might have chosen to try their luck against the fires, how many chose to fling themselves off the edge. It mattered not to him how they died. As long as they did.
‘Gods,’ said Erskine once more.
‘Come on,’ said Owen.
Before them, up against the edge of the plateau, was the roosting barn. He breathed a small sigh of relief. It had been uncertain whether it would withstand the fires, yet even though the walls were marked black and were hot to the touch, it stood.
At the doorway, Owen hesitated. The brothers took up positions to cover him as he pressed against the wall and reached out an arm to open the door. It swung outwards. As his vision was obscured he expected to hear a battle cry, the rush of feet and the clash of arms. Yet all was silent. He stepped around the door. Ernan gave him a thumbs up. Owen signalled for him to follow and Erskine to watch their backs.
Crossbow raised to his eyeline, he took a quick pace inside and swept the barn. All the hatches were open, as expected. But at the far end, something was wrong. Ernan came shoulder to shoulder and together they moved forwards. Taking care to check each stall before moving on. As they reached the middle point, Owen’s heart sank. Clustered around the floor were several bodies. All wood elf. And beyond it, the matting and dirt screen pulled away, the trap door to the store below was clearly revealed. Damn it, he’d thought they’d hidden it well enough.
