Song of Echoes

by R. E. Palmer

  Toryn checked his supply. ‘I have one arrow left.’

  Elwold rested his large hand on Toryn’s head. ‘Then make it count, lad.’

  Toryn’s hand trembled as he held the arrow to the fire. He turned back to face the weapon edging ever closer. He fought against his heaving chest, gulping for air while blinking away sweat stinging his eyes. But he dared not let them down — he knew what he had to do. Toryn wiped his brow, took a deep breath, and nocked his flaming arrow. He relaxed his knees, stood tall and let the solid rock steady his stance. He raised his bow, aimed, imagined the flight of his arrow striking the target, then let fly.

  He willed the arrow forward, following its yellow path as it streaked home. It hit! The carriers leaped back, dropping the barrel as the flames eagerly licked around the old wood. Toryn jumped back as the cask exploded, spurting burning globules over the weapon and surrounding men. Elwold slapped him on the back. ‘Good shot! That’ll show them.’ Below, the raiders ran forward, desperate to put out the flames. But the water only fueled the blaze. Toryn clasped his hands to his ears as the fire burst and burned with a ferocity he never thought possible.

  Elwold yelled over the din. ‘Keep the rocks raining on their scabby heads. We’re winning, don’t let up. They can’t take this for much longer.’ The attackers withdrew, rushing to evacuate the platform should the town burn. But one lone figure remained. Uldrak strode to the ballista, now blazing out of control. Dozens of burning bodies lay about the weapon, many caught as they had hurled water onto the flames. Uldrak stopped, folded his arms and bowed his head. Elwold laughed. ‘What’s the fool doing? Praying for the—’ Uldrak flung open his arms and sent a blast of rippling air across the platform. The flames hissed and died. Elwold gawped. ‘What the? Well, I never.’

  Uldrak spun around and strode back to the foot of the steps as the Ruuk surged back into the attack. Elwold grabbed another stone. ‘He’s in range! Crack his vile head open. One hit should bring the skinny bastard down.’ Toryn took hold of a rock and lifted it above his head. He lunged and hurled it at Uldrak. His fingers grasped the rampart as it flew straight. But the rock shattered before it could find its target. More stones and rubble broke and bounced away as if an invisible shield protected Uldrak.

  The fighting ceased. An eerie silence descended. Uldrak raised his head to face the parapet. Toryn’s gut turned to water as unseen eyes bored into him. Suddenly, he did not feel safe so high above the battle.

  Hamar clutched Toryn’s arm. ‘It’s what Tombold saw. Remember? His story about the Archon at the gate?’

  Toryn stumbled back. ‘If he’s as powerful as the Archon, what chance do we have?’

  Hamar’s legs gave way. He collapsed against the mountain wall and covered his mouth. ‘This is worse than I thought. The Archon has to know.’

  Uldrak’s rasping voice echoed through the ravine. ‘I salute your efforts, men of the Five Realms.’ Toryn found he could not resist looking over the ledge. Uldrak had ascended to the top of the stairs and stood directly in front of the entrance. ‘You are indeed worthy of the Archon’s name, but your time is over, and my patience grows thin.’ He pulled back his cloak and pulled out a shard of stone. ‘I had wanted to do this the conventional way, but your futile resistance leaves me no choice.’ He threw his arms out wide and bowed his head as he had at the ballista. He raised the shard higher, chanting ancient words, numbing the skulls of all unfortunate to hear.

  Hamar cursed. ‘By the Three! Don’t ask me how I know, but that’s… that’s the language scrawled on the trees in Wyke Wood.’ He slammed his hands to his ears. ‘Don’t listen, don’t let them foul words get inside your head.’

  Toryn did as he was told, but it made no difference. Uldrak’s fell voice grew louder and higher, rising to a shriek beyond the range of a mere wyke’s throat. More voices joined the cacophony, shaking the very walls of the mountain. Toryn cried out, pressing harder against his ears, but failed to shut out the screams. His eyes ached, but he could not look away from the wyke. The shard in Uldrak’s hand throbbed green. He grasped the stone with both hands, raised it above his head, lunged and thrust it into the steps. The ground shuddered in horror, throwing Toryn from his feet. A hoarse cry went up from below. He stumbled back to the ledge. Below, the steps had splintered as the shard blazed, burning Toryn’s eyes. Uldrak lurched from the stairs, gasping for breath, but the damage had been done.

  The wyke turned and staggered away with the help of two Ruuk, who reeled as if hurt by Uldrak’s touch. The crack hissed. Fingers of a sickly green hue seeped from the rock, groping for the entrance to the mine. A foul taste spread through Toryn’s mouth, and a stench like Elrik’s forge hit the back of his throat.

  Toryn grasped Hamar’s wrist. ‘It’s what I saw in the cave.’

  Elwold lurched to their side. ‘You’ve seen this before?’

  Hamar nodded. ‘A few days back. The lad saw the same devilry destroy a Singing Stone. We’re in trouble, no doubt about it. We can’t fight this evil.’

  Elwold groaned. ‘A Singing Stone? Destroyed, you say? I’ve seen only the one, but it had to be the most beautiful thing I’d laid eyes on.’ He shook his head. ‘A sad day, it is a sad day to be sure.’

  Two arrows shot from the entrance towards Uldrak’s back, but they broke and clattered harmlessly to the ground before they could reach their target. Uldrak turned as if to admire his work. The poison from the green stone had reached the entrance, dividing and bulging like angry veins. Toryn leaned as far as he could over the edge. Five streaks slithered under the wheels of the wagons, two either side climbed the rock wall, sprouting fronds akin to ivy as they rose faster. Screams from below echoed across the ravine to be greeted by cheers from the raiders rushing the barricade.

  But Elwold was not beaten yet. He stumbled but steadied his feet to hoist another rock. ‘Fight, lads, fight for your lives!’ Toryn helped Hamar to pick a large stone. They struggled to the edge and rolled it off the rampart. But it was futile. They were too few to make a difference to the hundreds rushing the entrance. He stopped, panting in the dank air. Toryn stared down at the rock face. The green veins had risen halfway to the parapet. His legs numbed. He glanced down between his feet; the rock flickered as if a green light shone up from the bottom of a pond. The cold spread from his legs to his groin and stomach. Men clutched their bellies and fell to their knees. Toryn caught his temple against the rock as he collapsed. His head pounded, but he raised it to listen, desperate for the men to ignite the Shreek’s Rage to greet the invaders. But the men below failed to light the barrel, most likely brought to their knees like Toryn.

  Drunsberg had fallen.

  Elwold stumbled passed him. He spluttered. ‘Fly. Fly, damn you.’ The large man wobbled, throwing up his hands. A bird cawed an angry retort as it opened its wings and beat at the thick air, but Toryn’s vision blurred and he failed to see if the bird escaped. Green turned black, bringing relief to the deep ache in his bones.

  24. to Plow The Plains

  ‘Leave some for her. She won’t be happy if you butcher the lot of ‘em for fun.’

  ‘Hang on, Grebb. Uldrak promised them a long, painful death. I’m only carrying out his order and I have a few tricks I want to try on these scum.’

  Grebb scoffed. ‘Nah, he’s out cold after using that stone, he won’t stir for a day or two. But some of these fellows look useful. She’ll thank us for bringing ‘em in. I don’t mind angering him, but not her, no, not the lady. Even Uldrak is wary of her.’

  The harsh tongue butchered the language, but Toryn recognized enough to stoke the dread in his gut. From the echo of the voices, he guessed the Ruuk had brought him to the main hall. And judging by his bruised face and the cuts to his knees and elbows, they had dragged him by his ankles down the stone steps from the parapet. Toryn risked opening a swollen eye. In the torchlight he saw the table where Captain Porek had delivered his speech to raise their spirits, but how hollow those words now seemed.

 
Toryn lay among forty or so men, all in a similar state; but he could not see Hamar. The two raiders stood close by. To his relief, they did not resemble the Norgog clans Hamar had feared. These must have been Ruuk from close to the Draegalen Trench as only their flat, wide faces and shorter stature set them apart from men of the Five Realms.

  Toryn shut his eyes as Grebb called out. ‘You take this one’s legs. We’ll chain ‘em and load ‘em on the carts before they wake.’

  The other cackled. ‘They won’t know what hit ‘em, eh, or where they are when they wake. Here, grab this one.’ The body next to Toryn slid back, leaving a streak of dark blood across the floor.

  ‘We’ll take as much as the carts will carry. That should be enough to please her. These brutes make good fighters, but you should see what they can do once she’s got inside their heads.’ He laughed. ‘We had a dozen of these boys at the border. Been with the lady for only a short while. We sent them in first and let them go wild.’ He spat. ‘Shame though, nothing left for us to do once they’d finished.’ He called over to the entrance. ‘Here, lads, give us a hand.’

  More trampled into the hall. The body next to Toryn moved. Grebb yelled. ‘Not him, far too fat. He’ll take up room for two and I don’t reckon he’ll ever fight again. We can send him to work down the mine, or to the mountain.’ He cackled. ‘They can wedge him into the cracks to keep out the draft.’

  Toryn squinted and saw a raider release Elwold’s leg. He groaned inside as another bent over the large man. ‘No, he’s mine.’ Toryn heard a chink of metal. ‘See. He wears the medal.’ He called out. ‘Hey, lads. This one will be good sport.’ Toryn clenched his fists, ready to spring to Elwold’s defense. But his shoulders sagged. In his battered and bruised state, he could not be sure he could stand. Even if he got to his feet, what could he do against hundreds of hardened-fighters? He gasped as a kick landed on his ribs. ‘Grab this young one, may last a few months longer than most if he’s trained right.’ Rough hands took hold of his ankles and yanked him across the floor. Toryn clenched his jaw. ‘Not much of this one, eh. Be quicker to carry him.’ A foul-smelling Ruuk slung him over his shoulder. Despite the pain, Toryn let his body go limp, desperate not to be considered good sport.

  ‘Put him down!’ Toryn knew that voice. He twisted around to see Hamar with his sword leveled at the throat of his carrier.

  The warrior grumbled. ‘Let’s not make this difficult, old man.’ He called over this shoulder. ‘Hey, Grebb, I thought you’d disarmed them all. This one stills wants to fight.’ He flung Toryn to the floor.

  Toryn scrambled to his feet. ‘I’m with you, Hamar.’

  Hamar held up a hand. ‘This isn’t your fight, Tor. Stay back.’

  ‘How about me? I’ll take out the ugly one.’ Elwold swayed as he stood beside Hamar.

  Hamar beamed and patted his back. ‘Then you’ll have plenty to choose from!’ Elwold clenched his fists and squared up for the fight.

  The raider laughed. ‘Fists, fat boy? You’re going to do this with—’ Elwold lunged with surprising speed and landed a blow. Toryn winced as the crack echoed back from the cave walls. The raider staggered back, cursing and spitting blood as he glared at Elwold.

  Elwold chuckled. ‘If it’s to be a fair fight, then yes, I’ll do it with me fists.’ He winked at Hamar. ‘Or how about I use just one hand?’

  The raider regained his balance and straightened. He struggled to speak as his jaw swelled. ‘You’re going to regret that, fatty.’ He reached to his belt.

  ‘Looking for this?’ Elwold held out the crude sword. ‘Fast for a fat one, eh? Thought I’d use a blade after all. We haven’t got all day.’ He grinned at Hamar. ‘Some moves you don’t forget from the good old days, eh.’

  The dis-armed raider edged back. He called to the entrance to the hall. ‘Hey, you out there! Get your dirty carcasses in here. We have a couple of old guards who don’t know the fight’s over.’ Four Ruuk rushed in, swords and axes drawn.

  ‘Hamar?’ Toryn pleaded. ‘You can’t escape, there’s too many.’

  Hamar turned. ‘I don’t intend to escape, Tor. But I don’t intend to die as sport for these bastards.’ Two more raiders blundered into the hall. Hamar nodded to Elwold. ‘An honorable death? Sword in hand?’

  Elwold grinned. ‘An honor to be with you at the end, Hamar. No better way.’ With an unspoken command, they launched at the six Ruuk. Hamar moved with a speed Toryn thought was beyond the old man. The raiders did not expect the move. The first fell clutching his gut, the second lost a hand from Hamar’s swift strike, clasping the bloody stump to his neck as Hamar’s blade opened his throat. Toryn jumped up and tried to grab the sword from the fallen raider’s hand.

  A thick arm wrapped around his neck and yanked him back. ‘Not you, boy. You’re to be fodder for the lady’s ranks.’ Toryn wriggled and tried to stamp and use his elbows against the raider, but he was too strong. He dragged Toryn towards the entrance.

  More Ruuk joined the fight. Elwold roared, blocking a blow from an axe and cracking his attacker’s nose with a head butt. He lunged at the next, but his strength faded as his advanced years began to tell. But before the next attacker could raise his weapon against Elwold, Hamar drove his sword deep into the Ruuk’s chest.

  Toryn’s captor yelled. ‘Come on, ladies, work together. You’re making these old codgers look good.’

  The attackers paused. They exchanged glances, and the five placed themselves in a semi-circle. One growled. ‘The fat one first. Krull, you keep the other one out of it.’ Toryn closed his eyes and four charged Elwold. The big man bellowed. ‘For the Three!’ Metal clashed against metal, but other blades found softer targets. A sword clattered to the floor.

  Toryn cried out as the Ruuk jerked his head back by his hair. ‘Watch and learn, boy.’ He reluctantly opened his eyes, feeling he should give Hamar and Elwold the honor of witnessing their last moments. Elwold had sunk to his haunches, clutching his side and coughing up blood.

  Grebb kicked Elwold’s sword aside. ‘This one’s mine.’ He held the point of his blade to Elwold’s throat. ‘But don’t worry, we’ve got all night.’

  ‘Ready for the plains, Elwold?’ Hamar felled Krull with one strike as he glanced behind to watch Grebb. Hamar parried another blow, knocked Grebb’s blade aside and saved Elwold from a miserable end with a thrust to his chest. Elwold’s eyes bulged. Then, with a nod to Hamar, he managed a grin as he collapsed on his front and died a guard’s death.

  Grebb yelled. ‘No! Leave him, he’s mine.’ But the remaining raider leaped forward and plunged his sword into Hamar’s stomach. He scowled into Hamar’s face as he forced the blade deeper. But Hamar returned his foe’s stare, refusing to show pain. His attacker stumbled back, alarmed at Hamar’s defiance. Hamar grabbed the blade and pulled it free from his gut with a grunt. He straightened, turned to Toryn and winked. Hamar dropped to his knees. His head and shoulders slumped. And there he remained, looking as if he kneeled by a newly planted tree in his small garden, giving thanks to the beauty created by the Three Maidens.

  Grebb and the raider argued, but Toryn only had ears for Hamar’s last breaths. He stared through burning eyes as the rise and fall of Hamar’s chest slowed, then finally stopped. He cried out Hamar’s name, wrenching at his captor’s arm, desperate to rush to his side. But he could not break free. Toryn could only watch as Hamar’s long and eventful life ended with a sword still in his hand, and his foes slain by his side.

  Toryn slumped, bowing his head as the tears streamed down his face. Hamar’s killer kicked the old man’s body to the ground. The Ruuk restraining Toryn, shoved him against the wall. ‘Go on, cry like a snotty runt. Your tears won’t bring him back.’ He strolled forward and nudged Hamar with his foot. ‘Not a bad fighter for an old boy.’ He sneered at the bloodied raiders standing over the body. ‘Shouldn’t have killed him just yet. He could have taught you dumb lugs a few useful moves.’

  One sneered. ‘Nah, these wasters were too slow. Maldy
got what he deserved, letting the fat one take his sword.’

  Toryn twisted away. His eyes stung and his jaw ached as he fought to drive down his grief, determined not to let the Ruuk take pleasure in his agony. He glared at their flat, expressionless faces. One day he would exact his revenge for taking his lifelong friend from him. This was the man who had rescued him from the woods; the man who had taught him most of what he knew; amused him with his stories, but most of all, the man who had been there for him when he had felt like an outsider in his own village.

  Toryn forced himself to look back to Hamar. The raiders had rolled him onto his back and searched his pockets. One snatched the chain from his neck, took Hamar’s medal, and stuffed it in his pocket before the others saw it. Toryn took a deep breath. Hamar looked at peace, content even. Given the choice, perhaps Hamar would have chosen this way to die. Better to go down fighting than to slowly fade away on his sickbed, or worse still, as sport for the raiders. Toryn calmed and made a vow to the Three. He would find a way to honor the man in the way he deserved. But he would have to be patient and wait for the right moment.

  A blow to the back of his head brought an end to the tragic day.

  25. the Winged Messenger

  Elodi ran, ignoring the disapproving glances. She rounded the corner to see Bardon’s door open. Was she too late? She skidded through the door and caught her breath. ‘Oh, thank the Three I haven’t missed you.’

  Bardon stood next to a large trunk. He turned, putting on a smile. ‘What concerns you on such a fine day?’

  She fought to recover. ‘A message… from Drunsberg, it’s… it’s under siege. A bird came in this morning.’

  A shirt slipped from his hand. ‘Under siege? This is bad news. If taken, it could disrupt the Archon’s plans.’ He slammed his hand on the box. ‘We knew it was madness to reduce the defenses. Now he has to send more men north to relieve it.’