“I did not believe at first that the mighty Tashi Jalen Rinpoche had come.”
When he saw the puzzled expression on my face he continued. “Oh yes. I know who you are and from whenceyou come. I don’t know how, but I believe I know why.
“Let me tell you of our woes, in the little time we have, so that you might answer for yourself the ‘why’. He gestured towards a pitcher of water, a valuable commodity in this place. I nodded and he began to pour two glasses.
“For generations we have lived by hiding, by running, and when the need arrives, by fighting.” He handed me a glass which I took and drained almost immediately.“The war machine you saw on the desert floor is but one of their sentinels. They have legions of them. They also have legions of the ones we call the ‘silver warriors’. We have met them in battle many times.” He turned and picked up the gilded mask of a pestarii warrior and turned it over in his hands. “Sometimes we win, but more often than not they win. Their armour is hard and our weapons are weak. Our fighters are brave and strong and have some skill, but against what we face it is not enough.”
“Why have you brought everyone together in one place. Surely that adds incredible risk to your survival?”
“When I heard you were among us, I knew it was time. We have hidden like rats in a hole for far too long. Our ancestors fought. Their ancestors fought. To not fight is to not exist. Our world has suffered. Our people have suffered. We have always been a fearless and courageous people. But after so long, and after so much death and loss, fear creeps in. It is a cancer. It destroys resilience and strength. But fear is trumped by hope: always.”
“I cannot win this for you.”
He walked up to me and gently grasped the pendant that hung from neck, looking in the flowing silver and jade that formed that figure of both man and bird, of man and hawk, to be more precise.
“The Kriya-Shakti.” He smiled. “You fight for the gods. That must be worth something. But let us not argue about that now. In the morning, I will call the greatest gathering of our time, the Great Convocation, and where once only ragged bands fought over water and food and slaves, now ten thousand strong will go forth to end this once and for all. Think on that, and what you and your hundreds upon hundreds of specially trained commandos will mean to the thousands that follow.”
He walked to the door and opened it. “Come with me, I have a surprise for you.”
After many twists and turns and many long corridors and byways, we came to a large chamber with ornate double doors. Te Waharoa approached the door and banged upon it. I stood behind, still clutching the black spear. It slowly opened and before I could see into the darkness beyond, Te Waharoa bowed his head and said,“Father.” He disappeared inside.
I followed and entered the darkened room. As my eyes adjusted I beheld a great bed, large enough for many people, but holding only one. I could hear heavy breathing and a deepvoice said, “Tashi, by the gods!”
Still not understanding I walked closer.
“It is me:Pemba.” Te Waharoa took his leave and closed the large doors. I turned back to Pemba as he got out of bed and walked to a table to pour water from a pitcher into a glass, I noticed I was still holding the glass in my hand and he poured more for me. I drained the second glass and placed it back down on the table. He pointed to a large lounge area and I took a seat in a comfortable arm chair. He waved his hand over a panel and the wall and warm lighting suddenly brightened the room. He slowly lowered himself into a big lounge and sipped water from his glass before placing it on a low table. Leaning back he regarded me, letting me transpose my memory of the person I had thought lost to what I saw seated across from me now.
“What happened to you?” He looked more different than I could easily describe. Was it Pemba? I could not be sure. He breathed deeply before he began.
“Do you remember what happened … when you created the swirling circle, the doorway of light out of that place? Of course you do. For you it is a matter of weeks. But for me, the decades have erased much of my memory of anything before … this.” He looked around, lamenting the world that was his.
“ But I shall not forget that day … and the demon lord’s magic. Do you remember how I’d grown? You were busy trying to save us but while the green mist burned and twisted me, I could feel myself getting bigger, not just fatter but ‘bigger’ if that makes sense. I could not stand and thought it the end for me. My flesh sagged from my bones and my blood soaked the floor of that cursed place. I could not talk, I could not breathe. And the pain … immeasurable and intolerable. I just wanted it to be over.” He paused, rubbing his temples and reached for the glass of water, draining the rest of it before he placed it back down on the table.
“ And then the floor gave way. Just like that… I was falling, falling. My last thought was that my soul was speeding on the winds of the black land, down, down to the pits of the abyss, to the plane of fire or the dry lands, rather than to the light of the good land. So be it, I thought to myself, the die had been cast and I had been claimed.
“But that was not the end of i t. I woke. In pain… terrible pain … and sorrow. Bloodied and broken and in the middle of the Great Desert. There was nothing around me, nothing but a sea of sand, for as far as the eyes could see in any direction.
“I thought that I was now in the d ry lands, which I was, in a manner of speaking. For days and days I believed it. I had very little with me; some water, a bit of food, I still had Gada and of course my despair. But when I lay down thinking myself ready to die;I wasn’t, and I didn’t. I felt anger and hate and it gave me a hunger to survive; a hunger to live.
“ I needed food, water and shelter. And I learned quickly that in the day the desert is devoid of life. But in the twilight before the stars came out and right through to the splendid dawns, the desert floor teems with it. And this is the amazing thing Tashi. You might ask how I hunted and caught the small creatures that scurried always just out of arms reach. I tried throwing my robe over things like a net, I tried lunging, I tried setting snares with torn strips of my robe and nothing worked. And as thirst and dehydration brought on weakness and I saw my death in it, I simply asked a scurrying rodent to come to me, and it did. I do not know if it was a trick of my mind or the power of the Gada, but I could command creatures to come to me and they would. The creatures here hoard moisture for their survival and thus I had meat and water. Not much, but enough. It kept me alive but I could not live like that forever.
“ I moved, first crawling over the hot sand, until I learned to bury myself by digging with my blistered hands and resting during the day and then to move at night. I crawled, them kneeled, then shuffled. I moved one foot after the other and walked, and walked and walked. And as the weight slowly fell off me and my skin became as hard and as brown as leather, my fitness returned and I pledged to find the end of the desert and escape from it. I fashioned a breathing tube from my old bidon which had been empty for longer than I could remember and buried myself deep into the cool sand to avoid the heat of the day and trekked by night, always setting my course by following a particularly bright star that was the first to appear in the eastern sky.
“I did that for weeks upon weeks, never com ing upon a soul or seeing any real change in the landscape. I believe I became truly mad during that time. I would see you and the others walking with me and berate you for keeping too hard a pace, or for going too slowly. Once I even fancied I saw a massive tiger, and remembered the lady. So even though I called out to her, I had seen her fall. I knew at that point that I was mad.”
“ It is a hard thing to live with oneself for that many weeks, or was it months? I could not tell. But it is a shock when that solitude is broken in the most inglorious fashion. The weight had dropped off me like the winter snows from a mountain side in summer. I was lean and strong and my hatred had moulded into a fierce will to survive, to escape the desert. The demon lord’s magic had changed me for the better.”
I spoke for the first time in a
long while, so engrossed in Pemba’s amazing story. “You must be nearly eight feet tall! And the rest of you is all muscle and sinew. They do not call you the Giant Warrior for nothing.”
“ And my size has served me well. I have certainly earned my place among these people. They needed a leader. They were really no more than a rag-tag collection of fragmented tribes when I came here, making their raids upon each other and fighting for territory, water privileges, food, slaves and tools. The war was not known to them. They didn’t know they fought in a larger fight. They merely fought for their own survival. I rallied them, I treated with the Pestarii and found allies who gave us advanced weapons, tools and equipment. More and more of these machine creatures have turned up. We battled, we brought them down and we exchanged with our allies for the broken machines we brought down– their fuel and technology aided us greatly.”
I was shocked. I wanted to ask a hundred questions but asked instead, “How did they find you?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I’ve jumped ahead in my story. So long have I imagined this day I’m jumping all over the place.” He took a breath. “I was pretty much as you see me now, only a lot younger, when I came out of the desert. In my madness I lost count of how long I had been out there. I had endured the burring heat of day and the frigid cold of night. I had been stung by the harsh winds and found shelter from the massive sand storms that would strip the flesh from your bones. This is sadly not the Irth of our youth.
“I was resigned after that long to never finding anyone out there. I had for several days been setting my course by a pinnacle of rock that jutted out of the desert many miles in front of me. You cannot imagine how glorious it was to see something other than sand and sky in that endless sea.
“It loomed steadily larger to the point I was only half a mile or so from it and then I stopped.I can’t say why but at that time I think I was actually fearful of meeting anyone. I camped where I was and observed it for many days and saw the guarded entrance, and the children working and playing outside and the moisture collectors working to gather condensation from the rocks in the early morning. I saw the war parties go out and come back after many days. I hid from their patrols and worked on a plan to approach these people without getting killed, and then my mind was made up for me.”
“What happened?”
“They happened. Those large machines and a sizeable force attacked. I had never seen anything like it. These people I had observed for so many days going about their daily lives simply didn’t stand a chance.”
“I charged. I held Gada up and ran the half mile to the base of the islet and up the secret ways I had seen these people traverse so many times. I rushed into the entrance and amid the smoke and lazgun fire and all the confusion, the mighty Gada again tasted the blood of the enemy. And while the young warriors tried to defend themselves with a pitiable last stand, I came through from behind and Gada smashed and bit and hewed from all angles. Bloodlust and death brought me back from my madness. The enemy did not know what was happening and all died under my hand.
“When their troops did not respond, the mighty machines outside pummelled the structure with their explosives and mortars and indeed the stronghold was razed to the ground, but not before the survivors and I came by many secret ways to another stronghold and we sought assistance.
“And thus I becameKāwharu, the giant warrior ofGhnāti Whatua.”
“And you have a son?”
“Several. Although I have lost some in this horrible war. You refer to my second son, Te Waharoa, War Chief of the Waikato: grim, ambitious, highly intelligent and a fey captain at arms.”
I grinned, “Kind of like his father.”
He looked down, and then at me again. “What of the others Tashi? Did any survive?
“I know Sibu did. Of the others I do not know.”
“That is sad news indeed. We could use some help.”
“Help is coming.”
Chapter 18: Battle
“Masku ieu otsala awadinten akhale anga; Ndili ngati jadidzuwa kawas, mtengo umene unagwa m'madzi tangkal osekira.”
Let these last remaining moments be mine; I am like the dying sun, my last light cast across the titian sands.
The death watch speech of Kāwharu, the famous giant warrior of Ghnāti Whatua Te Waharoa’s war-speech to the assembled thousands was something to behold. He was a natural leader. He had that rare quality that inspired and motivated all who beheld him. I find that beyond the mere words, which any person may proclaim to the world, there is something, an essential element of heart or passion or belief. It is the quality which turns the assembled mob into a unified force. The singular most powerful drivers of any united people are hope and belief. Such a people can achieve anything.
The assembled masses moved out onto the plains and began the long march forward. Scouts had reported that a mighty citadel, the city of the enemy, which had remained hidden until now, had suddenly appeared, or been unmasked. Reports suggested that the gates had been thrown open and thousands of the enemy marched forward. Our forces carried such an array of weapons it was really something amazing to behold; cannons and lazguns, sniper rifles and mortars, heavy artillery and hand guns. From secret hangers whose mighty rooves opened up in the desert floor, armed fliers and other oddlooking armoured vehicles emerged.
I asked Irirangi where all this stuff came from. Instead she smiled and handed me a package. I looked at her with a questioning look on my face.
“It is thewairua hubkha or ‘ghost suit’, if you want a literal interpretation. Gifts, if you like, from the Petrotechnicists of Titan, who developed prototypes millennia ago for mining in the harsh environs of the Undine and Kawhelu regions on what was the satellite Hesperus. You’ve seen all our people wear them. It disrupts their sensors so they cannot ‘see’ you in the normal sense. It has other qualities as wellwhich you’ll grow to appreciate in the battle to come, such as magnifying your physical speed, strength and agility. It will protect you from extreme heat and cold and is armoured so it will defend you from their light projectiles. It refines your sweat and bodily wastes so you can be self-sufficient and survive for many weeks in the deep desert. Quite the blessing here.” She smiledand then continued on. “I know you must think them just simple autochthons but they are far from it. They are warriors all and have always been prepared for battle because war has always been upon them.”
“You don’t count yourself among them?” I asked.
“Yes … and no. Your brother busied himself over these many years with building an army to end all wars. He has many friends abroad. If we survive what is to come, I will show you more.
“Put that on. We leave at the end of the last watch before dawn.”
Surrounded by my chosen squad of personal death commandos, each with the shoulders of their wairua hubkha coloured a bright yellow to mark them as such, I stood at one of the high entrances to the cave network, a pair of binoculars fixed to my eyes. Our own forces were assembled on the flat of the bled a mile away, readying for battle. The sun would soon emerge over the eastern horizon which would help blind the enemy as it advanced. After much planning, this area had been chosen as the rocky hills that emerged from the desert on two sides would funnel the ground forces into a narrow opening of only four hundred feet wide, blocking their overwhelming numbers and giving our fighters the opportunity to gain height and to attack from both sides once the enemy force came within reach. If retreat was necessary, our forces had been drilled on which hidden entrances to head for so that the safety of the cave network could be reached. Several, easy to locate, false entrances had been constructed to provide access to caves that were mined and so as take out enemies that sought entrance to the hidden cave network.
In the pre-dawn stillness, I looked out to the west, scanning the horizon through my binoculars. The phosphorous lines and readouts showed no detail, only the single line of the horizon. I gasped as the line suddenly revealed bumps and edges and writhed and moved. I took down th
e binoculars and strained my eyes to look out in the dimness. At first, what seemed nothing more than the dark line on the horizon suddenly coalesced and became a solid mass of black, like a wave washing up a beach, or more correctly a tsunami, moving slowly forward and consuming the desert before it.
The radio chatter from the fighters gathered around me in one of the cave entrances rose markedly and I could hear orders being given and coded labels for various locations noted.
As the first rays of the dawn washed over the desert sands, I could see the relentless checkerboard formation more clearly with battalions identified by hideous black flags that differed only by the sigil apparent to each. I expected the line to ebb and writhe because of the thousands of enemy fighters that coated the dunes, now less than a league from us. But onward it crept. There was a disciplined orderliness to that mass that heighted my sense of approaching doom. I saw no hint of weakness or other chink to exploit. I saw death.
Intermingled with the ground forces where many of the giant sentinels I seen but one of. And other large machines moved forwards as well, armoured tanks, fliers and weirdly shaped machines of every size and shape whose function I could only guess at. Smaller fliers flew high and over the rocky area where we were camped no doubt scanning the forces below them and relaying information back.
The flags that depicted the clans of our own force showed colour and individuality, some blue, some red, some white and others brown and black and ochre. Our lines shifted nervously and I could almost smell the fear emanating from the men and women who stood ready to make a stand.
From the rocky outcropping we stood upon I turned and again spied the legions of the dead moving inexorably towards us, the massive machines of war behind them and fliers continuing their scouting above. They moved until they were about half mile from our own lines and then abruptly stopped. On a quick count we looked to be outnumbered at least ten to one. My hope, and the hope of all our forces, was on strategy, speed and ability.
The War of the Realms Page 28