The Burning Tower

by Colin Glassey

  Sandun ordered four of the merchants to start digging graves. They objected, saying this wasn’t even in their home province, much less their home village. Angry and upset, Sandun cursed at them and took one of the new picks that the expedition had acquired in Gipu and began hacking at the earth. The other men of the expedition helped him, taking turns. Sir Ako and Padan moved the bodies one by one into the hole, and then they covered it.

  Valo Peli now appeared with a flat piece of fresh wood. On the wood he had written some words in Serice. Sandun recognized only a few words: “four” and “family” and “murder.” Valo Peli hammered the wooden stake into the fresh mound.

  “What does it say?” Sandun asked him.

  “I wrote, ‘Here is a family of four, murdered fleeing the town.’”

  No one wanted to camp near the broken wagon, so they turned around and went back half a mile and then made a somber camp.

  The next day dawned with a thick layer of clouds blocking the sun. Sandun expected the clouds would vanish by midday, typical for this side of the Tiralas. There was some discussion about the wisdom of continuing on down the road; they feared what they would see. Sir Ako stuck to his plan. “Wherever the killers are, the least likely place is straight ahead.”

  Valo Peli was not convinced. As they made ready to depart, he said quietly to Sandun, “Whoever did this, terror was their purpose. Expect the worst.”

  The Kelten expedition was alert. Weapons were checked, arrows were pulled out of packs and made accessible. Sandun looked at Valo Peli’s bow; it was very different from the Kelten bows—not as long, but made of layers. When used, it bent almost into a half circle and fired an arrow with great force. By contrast, Lathe carried only a long staff of polished wood and had two short sticks of the same wood in his sash. His usual smile was absent; he seemed to be matching his teacher’s studied, neutral expression.

  As they moved into the town, it was as bad as Sandun feared. Bodies were strewn across the street, and others could be glimpsed within the smashed houses. Some of the buildings had burned, but the town had not been deliberately set on fire. Sandun thought that Valo Peli was correct: the town had been left as a fearful warning to everyone nearby. But why? What message was being sent? And by whom?

  As they reached the far edge of the town, Damar came running up. “Band of warriors approaching from the northeast, heading this way,” he said. “More than ten, less than twenty. Mounted on shaggy cows.”

  “Sogands,” Sir Ako said, and sent Gloval off to warn the southern scouts.

  “Kitran warriors,” Valo Peli said, with sadness. As the news spread, most of the merchants ran off back down the road. Only Rogge and his son and his brother stayed. Rogge pulled a short, heavy sword from one of his packs, and his brother did the same.

  The remaining men advanced up the road to meet the Sogands. The plan was to copy the success of King Maklinos and rely on the very long range of the Kelten bows. Damar went back to Wiyat with orders to take up a hidden position to the north, within bowshot of the main group. When the two southern scouts, Farrel and Padan, came running up, they were sent back with orders to hide close by and pick off unwary enemies.

  The main group pulled the packs from the rams and built their crude fortification, shaped as a semicircle in a bend in the road. It wasn’t much to look at. Sir Ako swiftly put on his armor, with Olef’s help. Basil’s dog growled as the Sogands came into view.

  The reputation of the Sogands was outsized; stories told of their great strength, their unnatural ability to shrug off terrible wounds, and their tactical skill. This was coupled with the temple’s teaching, for hundreds of years, that the Sogands were in league with the Black Terror. According to the temple, the Sogands were agents of evil on this world, given superhuman ferocity by Naktam. But the only thing the Keltens said now was Kagne’s jest: “We get to fight Sogands. If I live through this, I’ll never have to pay for drinks at any pub in Kelten for the rest of my life.”

  The Sogands did not even shout a challenge; they just rode forward, holding spears up in the air, gathering speed as they got closer. The defenders fired early, at extreme range, to slow them down and make them wary. Remarkably, some shots that should have hit their marks were knocked out of the air by two of the riders using their spears. Sandun had never seen that done before.

  The Sogands rode closer, and then two of the sixteen attackers went down, and two buffalo were killed. Now the Sogands were within seventy-five yards, but their commander broke off the attack. At a shouted command, they turned around and pulled back out of range. The Kelten expedition stood up on top of their packs and jeered at them.

  During the fight, Sandun had noticed that Lathe had used an ancient weapon, a sling, to throw rounded rocks at the riders as they approached. Slings hadn’t been used as weapons in Kelten since the days of the Pellian Empire. Slingers were famous in old stories about the Great Commander; his army had a group of slingers renowned for their uncanny accuracy and their use of specially shaped lead weights. Every now and again, a lead “sling stone” would show up at the market in Seopolis—supposedly from the days of the Great Commander, though who could say if it was true.

  Valo Peli said, “They will circle us.” Sandun translated for the others.

  Sir Ako replied, “If we had more supplies, our burg could be better. As it is, retreat is impossible.” Left unmentioned was the ignominious flight by most of the merchants. Sir Ako blew his short whistle, which signaled the outlying scouts to rejoin the main group.

  Basil, using his farseer, noticed that one of the Sogands had broken away and was heading north. Valo Peli was noticeably interested in the farseer, which suggested to Sandun that the technology hadn’t yet reached Serica.

  “We can see farther than they can,” Sandun told Sir Ako.

  “Not sure that is helpful to us,” the knight replied.

  As Valo Peli had predicted, the Sogands begin circling around the Kelten burg, one after the other. They were only eleven now, so they had large gaps between them.

  “Concentrate fire on one rider at a time. No one can block two arrows at once,” Sir Ako said.

  The Sogands took out their short horse bows and rode closer. At Sir Ako’s command, the Kelten archers all took aim at a single rider and fired. He tried to turn and gallop away, but his effort was useless. He went down, and the Kelten expedition cheered. Again they stood and fired toward another rider, but this time the other Sogands let loose their own arrows. More accurately than any of the Keltens predicted, several Sogand arrows struck home. One hit Rogge in his back, and he grunted with surprise and fell to the earth. Another went through Olef’s arm as she was preparing to fire her own arrow. She dropped her bow and sat down without a word, clutching at the arrow in her arm, blood streaming between her fingers.

  Sir Ako expertly broke the arrow in Olef’s arm in half and then, lifting her arm up, he drew the rest of the arrow through her flesh. Olef gritted her teeth but remained silent as Sir Ako wrapped up her arm in a clean strip of linen that had been made ready for such use.

  Basil was filled with a cold fury; he shouted to his dog, who ran off toward the circling Sogands and momentarily distracted one buffalo with his snarling and biting. Basil shot that rider dead with an arrow into his neck. Heedless of the Sogand arrows that flew past him, he shot two more out of their saddles. The six remaining Sogands now broke off their circling and retreated toward a small hill topped by a lone building surrounded by a fence.

  “We need to go after them. Finish them off before more come!” Kagne shouted. At the same time, Valo Peli had cut away Rogge’s shirt and was examining the wound. The arrow had gone deep, and blood was coming out steadily.

  “I should have run off like the others,” Rogge said weakly.

  “You may live. I’ll have to cut the arrow out to stop the blood. Bite on this.” Valo Peli handed Rogge an unbloodied part of his
shirt. “Hold him firmly,” Valo Peli said to Rogge’s son and brother. Valo Peli took out a small, sharp knife from a pouch of tools and, after washing the wound with some strong liquor, he expertly made an incision up the man’s back and swiftly cut out the barbed arrow. “This needs to be sewed up, but we don’t have the time right now. Lie here and don’t move,” he said as he stuffed gauze into the wound and then wrapped Rogge’s chest tightly with a long strip of cloth.

  Then Valo Peli stood up and said, “More Sogands will be coming from that direction.” He pointed northwest. “They will be trying to sneak up from behind us. It is what the Sogands on the hill are waiting for.”

  Ashala, who had been curled up into a tiny ball beside the packs, translated Valo Peli’s words into Kelten while Sandun and Basil examined Olef’s injury.

  Sir Ako was skeptical. “If more were coming, they would come directly to the site of the battle.”

  Valo Peli could tell from Sir Ako’s expression that the knight was not convinced. “It is their way. They have great confidence.”

  “I’m not going to leave those bastards up on that hill and go off on a wild goose chase. We are going to deal with these bloody-handed murderers now.” Sir Ako pointed emphatically toward the hill with his sword.

  Valo Peli said, “I will head back east a short way. I will signal you with smoke when I see the Sogands approaching. Any aid you can offer then would be welcome.” He and Lathe carried two bags with them as they left. Sandun was torn but in matters of battle, he trusted Sir Ako.

  Leaving the caravan leader, his son, and Olef behind in the burg, the rest of the expedition advanced toward the small hill. Kagne made sure each of the felled Sogands really was dead. “That one is dead now,” he said, wiping his knife on some grass.

  “These Sogands are, without a doubt, the same that slaughtered the villagers of this town. They showed no mercy then and attacked us without even the offer of parley; they will get no mercy from us.” Sir Ako was grim.

  “Rather surprising to see them return to the ruined town, isn’t it?” Sandun asked Sir Ako quietly as they neared the hill.

  “Yes. I don’t understand it. That Valo Peli fellow seems damned certain that more will come from the northwest, which also makes no sense to me. But I will not second-guess myself in battle. Time enough for that after the fighting is over.”

  Going uphill as the skilled Sogand archers shot at them was more difficult than Sandun had imagined. Each Sogand warrior stayed behind cover and ducked out to fire an arrow and then hid back behind a wall or an overturned water tub or pile of wooden fence posts. With the expedition down to just eight, progress was slow. Sir Ako was in the lead, and he took two solid shots: one to his chest and one to his sword arm. Both glanced off his armor. His shield also protected him from two more arrows.

  Sir Ako then divided the men into two groups: one would advance, while the others stayed ready to shoot at anyone who showed his face at the top of the hill. With this tactic, at least two more Sogands were disabled, if not killed. The Kelten men were getting ready to set fire to the piles of wood, using wadded-up balls of dry grass, when Basil shouted that smoke was coming from the center of town.

  “Damn it all to the Black Terror! What is going on today?” Sir Ako was angry at himself and at the world in general. “This lot here will have to wait.” Sir Ako left three scouts with Basil to keep watch over the Sogands on the hill. Then, leading the remainder, he headed toward the column of smoke now rising into a patchy blue sky.

  Ten minutes later, they heard the sound of men fighting. There was a loud sound, a bit like thunder, and then a large ball of smoke rose into the air.

  “What was that?” Padan said.

  “I have no idea,” replied Sir Ako.

  In another minute, the fight came into view. Valo Peli could not be seen, but every ten or twenty seconds, an arrow would suddenly strike one of the Sogands, and he would go down and not get up. Valo Peli was apparently inside one of the buildings, perhaps on the second floor. What prevented the Sogands from rushing into the building was the student, Lathe, who was defending the doorway.

  Lathe was fighting in a manner that was completely foreign to the Kelten men. It was such an astonishing display of combat that they all stopped for a spell and watched. He moved with incredible speed, using two sticks, one in each hand, to block attacks and then shift to make blows of own to his enemy’s face or hands. He constantly moved, shifting his target, keeping the Sogands confused as to who was under attack and when he was exposed to an attack from the rear. But as remarkable as the fighting was, he could not keep it up for long.

  There was a strange smell in the air, somewhat like the acrid, smoky odor of wet leather left too close to a fire. Already several bodies were on the ground, Sandun guessed that around ten Sogands were attacking. Sir Ako sent Padan and two other scouts off to the side to shoot at the Sogands from the rear while he advanced down the street with Sandun and Kagne by his side.

  Sandun had the strange Piksie sword in his hand. He was used to the weight and feel of the weapon now, after months of practice. But this was the first time he had used it in battle. He wondered what it would do. It didn’t cut metal when wrapped in cloth or leather, but now? While Sir Ako bellowed out his challenge, stoking his anger, Sandun tried yelling a few curses of his own, feeling a rush of hatred set fire to his blood. The Sogands and the Kelten men came at each other like two rams butting heads. Seeking to try out his blade, Sandun actually aimed a blow at a large Sogand’s sword; the man blocked his attack with a look of disdain that changed to shock as the Piksie sword cut the weapon into two pieces, making a high-pitched whine as it did so. Sandun rapidly shifted his blow and cut into the Sogand’s face, turning the warrior’s head to an open wound. The Sogand fell with a gurgling cry.

  Sandun found a new enemy and tried his attack again. Like the first man, this warrior casually blocked Sandun’s blow only to see his weapon inexplicably sheared off as though it were made of a willow stick and not iron. He too died with a look of disbelief on his face. Several arrows now struck the remaining Sogands in their backs; Padan and his men hit them with well-aimed arrows that cut through armor or struck exposed vitals.

  Only one Sogand was left. Lathe was almost dancing around the big warrior, hitting him with a rain of blows to his head and his limbs. But the Sogand took the abuse and kept on swinging. Blood dripped down his face from a blow to his forehead and one leg was lame, but he bellowed abuse at his tormentor and swung a large axe through the air with great sweeps, any one of which would have cut Lathe in half. Sir Ako ended the fight by expertly stabbing the axe man in his side as he swung again at Lathe, who just managed to duck under the blow. The big Sogand tried to stab Sir Ako with a dagger he pulled from his belt, but Sir Ako was ready for that and simply heaved the man off his feet by putting his shoulder into the Sogandian warrior and toppling him over like an overburdened wheelbarrow. He landed in the blood and muck in the street, and Kagne jumped on him and slit his throat. With that, the fighting was over.

  As he looked at the bodies of the dead Sogands lying in the street, Sandun realized that the Sogands didn’t look normal. There was something about their arms and their body proportions that made him wonder if the old stories about Sogands being not human might actually be true. He had seen Piksies up close, and they definitely did not look human. Now, as he observed the Sogand warriors with their heavy faces and long arms, he felt a strange mix of emotions. Should he care that he had killed several of these…creatures? They had murdered hundreds of human villagers; perhaps they themselves did not care when they did so? Perhaps they killed humans and thought it was like butchering cattle? He resolved to ask Valo Peli about the recent Sogand rule over Serica, when he had the chance.

  Valo Peli came out of the house with his bow in his hand. “This man thanks you for your speedy arrival. My vantage point was not ideal, and the Kitran soldiers were
close when I first observed them.” He bowed and then continued: “I regret to say that I fear a third force is heading our way. I believe they are following a common Kitran tactic and have therefore split their force into three divisions. We have met the ‘lure.’ This was the ‘hook.’ Last will be the ‘shark.’ The last group will be the largest, and it will come in a line formation, heading to the sound of fighting, looking to kill anyone fleeing the battle.”

  Sir Ako said nothing. He was winded, having taken some hard blows during the last fight.

  Sandun said, “Do you have a plan for dealing with the shark?”

  “This one has a plan. I want the shark to bunch together. I want them to come down this road and then stop here. Then, my student and I will destroy them with lopor. To accomplish this, I want two of you to pretend to fight, here, in the middle of the street. Make as much noise as possible. Others can help with the noise. The Kitran will be confused and curious, a powerful combination, thus drawing them together. The pretend fighters will then run into a nearby house, and then the shark will die.” Valo Peli stood there with faint smile on his face.

  When Sandun translated the plan, Sir Ako shook his head in disbelief, but he was no longer willing to argue with the man. Instead, he asked, “How long do we have before the shark shows up?”

  Valo Peli said, “Not long. Soon, I believe. We must make ready.”

  Damar ran back to tell the others the news. Sandun suggested that he and Kagne stage the pretend fight. “Kagne and I worked something like this once, in a pub, to get out of paying for some rather expensive wine. I think we can do it again,” Sandun told Sir Ako.

  “As you wish. The rest of us will be close, inside these houses, when the demons of the Black Terror show up. What is this lopor Valo Peli talked about?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Sandun.

  Sandun and Kagne discussed their fight and practiced some moves. “We will just use daggers and throw punches, like that previous time,” Kagne said as he demonstrated a few moves. “No cutting.” As Kagne was the more skilled dagger fighter, Sandun would be the “faller”—the one who would take the fake blows from Kagne.