by Kyle West
Nalam suddenly charged forward, forcing me into a defensive posture. With his size and reach, he could very well end me if I didn’t defend correctly. At the last moment, as I was readying to parry his strike, he reached out with his leg and kicked me. I danced out of the way, but still found myself off balance. He pressed his advantage, going for a large strike at my abdomen that should have cleaved me clean in half. But he was a hair too slow.
Don’t trust your eyes, I heard a voice say. Trust Silence.
Was that Anna? If she was getting involved, I was closer to death than I realized.
The dancing firelight of the bonfire and torches provided shifting light, but it also played tricks. I couldn’t trust appearances.
From the side, I sensed Shara watching me struggle. I needed an advantage; even with Silence, Nalam was matching me stroke for stroke. It couldn’t go on much longer like this. I had hoped dancing around might tire him out, but Nalam was unrelenting. I’d never fought anyone quite like him before. He was not Elekai and did not use the Xenofold. He was such a fighter that might be born once in a hundred years. I suddenly saw why he was a chief, despite being so young.
The circle tightened once again, and the drums increased in tempo. The people no longer seemed happy, and the duel and music took on a new menacing intensity. Under the light of the flames, the Plains People looked practically demonic with their glinting weapons. An end was coming soon.
Not only this, but the torches began to get snuffed out, one by one, lending even less light to the battle. I switched to Sightform, seeing no other choice. I was already so exhausted that it was a gamble, but there would be no other way. Only a few torches were left flickering.
I moved based purely on instinct, as if I were in a dream fighting a shadow. I went where my blade felt it should go, as if it were part of my body.
And so, the dance continued in the darkness. Nalam was sweating, grunting, seeking every advantage he could. If he had been underestimating me before, he no longer was now. I began to feel the drink’s power ebbing, either through my exertion or Silence winning out over its influence. Nalam still kept up with me, but slowly, I was beginning to feel myself gain the advantage.
Sensing the shift in momentum, Nalam redoubled his efforts, crying out and throwing all his weight into his next blows. I drew more from the Xenofold, sharpening my focus. Yes, the effect of the alcohol was retreating now.
The circle closed in further, until there were but a few paces on either side of us. I stepped forward, trusting the darkness to cover my movements, and thrust Katan straight for Nalam’s belly. He dove out of the way, allowing me to step forward and take more space. He swung for my feet while still grounded. I gave a little hop at just the right moment, meaning Nalam only sliced air. I hadn’t seen that blade coming. Without Sightform, I would have been dead.
Now, the people were stepping in closer every few beats. Within seconds, they would be crushing us. Some of them were even starting to stab and swipe, though they were far more threatening to Nalam than to me.
It had to end now, and Nalam realized the same thing. As I was about to go for the final blow, Nalam leaped into the air, aiming both feet for me. The move caught me off guard and sent me sprawling back toward the edge of the circle. I did the only thing I could to stop it; I turned my body, even while in midair, and braced for impact against a tall man holding an axe. He readied that axe to swing, his face a mask of insanity, but he wasn’t quick enough. I crashed into him, rolling on the ground and finding myself under the dancing feet of the crowd.
This should have been my death, but I stabbed anyone who tried to get at me as I cut my way back toward the circle. Two people fell, and I didn’t have time to see if they were dead. I had enough space to jump back in. Nalam had already lowered his sword, his chest heaving.
This was my chance.
But someone cried out as I entered from behind, and Nalam turned, eyes widening and his face a mask of incredulity. I screamed as he raised his sword in time to block mine. He parried it just in time. But I was still running, pushing forward, and used my momentum to clobber his sword aside. With the last of my energy, I slammed into him, causing him to stagger back, quickly spinning to land another strike against his defending blade, barely raised in front of him in defense. He was forced back against the advancing crowd. He turned to fight them, but they were already taking their own shots. He screamed, his eyes suddenly widening while his whole body went stiff.
Protruding from his back was a long spear, from which blood gushed in a torrent. More knives, swords, and spears poked, prodded, and slashed at him. With the last of his strength, he stiffly turned. Blood leaked from his mouth, down his beard, while his still-mad eyes glazed over.
“Elekim,” he said, breathing his last.
Nalam fell dead, the thud seeming thunderous to my sharpened senses.
The music stopped. People lowered their weapons and backed away to enlarge the circle. The murderous atmosphere was gone. People blinked, as if waking from a spell.
Somewhere in the crowd, I spied Shara’s eyes and blonde hair, a stark contrast to the rest of the dark-haired crowd. She pushed through the circle, the crowd’s movement working against her. She finally broke through the throng and stood in front of me.
“I thought you were dead for sure.”
“Me, too,” I said back.
Victor, First Man of the Plains People, along with the rest of the chiefs, also entered the circle.
“Nalam is dead,” Victor said, “and you have taken his place. You have proven your worth in the sight of the flames.” He offered a hand. “You are one of us now, Shanti Roshar, and have claimed Nalam’s place as chief of the Black Hills Tribe.”
“She is the one,” the old man, Hadon, said, his voice shaking with conviction. “She is Chosen of the Xenofold! She is Elekim!”
“What is this, Hadon?” the First Man said.
“I’ve seen her face in my dreams,” Hadon said. “Only when she won the fight, I knew the dream to be truth.”
“What truth, Hadon?” the First Man asked.
“She is Elekim,” Hadon said. “She is Chosen. We must join with her, or face our doom.”
The First Man turned his eyes on me. “Hadon is a prophet and a shaman. The Old Blood runs stronger in him than any of us.”
I felt as much as Hadon’s rheumy blue eyes watched me, as he smiled his toothless grin.
“What have you seen, Hadon?” Victor asked.
“Death on the plains,” he proclaimed. “Entire tribes slaughtered! Women and children weeping, and none buried save by the winter snows.” His eyes took on a new focus, despite their blindness. “He is coming.”
“Odium?” I asked.
Hadon nodded. “He is coming now.”
There was a silence as the chiefs considered this.
“There isn’t time,” I said. “We need to raise the camp and move on.”
“Move on where?” the First Man asked.
“The safest place I can think of,” I said. “Ragnarok Crater.”
“There is no time,” Hadon said, insistent. “We must meet him here. We must meet him here, or perish.”
Chapter 42
The Plains People’s camp quickly shifted into a controlled chaos. Within half an hour, everyone was packed, their tents on the backs of their horses, and the women and children all mounted and ready to ride. They had obeyed me as if I were first man, and perhaps with even more vigor. There was clearly something I was missing, but I didn’t have time to question it.
I sat on Flame’s back next to Shara on Red Tail, facing off from Victor who was sitting on his horse.
“We’re sending the women and children north,” Victor said. “The men will stay and fight.”
“You can’t fight alone,” I said. “I still need to head back to Mongar and let everyone know what happened.”
“Even if your people left now, they wouldn’t reach the Plains in time to join us,” Victor said
. “We have to fight alone, at least until the Settled can come out from their walls.”
Just hours ago, the Plains People would have gladly abandoned Mongar to its fate. But now, they were willing to fight and die for them. Together, both forces might be enough to push the Radaskim back.
Assuming this swarm wasn’t as big as the one with Odium in it.
“How many men do you have?” I asked.
“Twenty thousand riders,” Victor said. “The rest are women and children.”
Twenty thousand, plus the men that had survived the march to Mongar, equaled almost fifty thousand men. There was no telling if it would be enough to hold back the Radaskim.
“We are willing to fight with you Elekai,” Victor said. “Will your people fight side-by-side with us?”
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll leave as soon as I bring the news.”
“It’s settled, then,” Victor said. “These lands are harsh, and we are a harsh people. Even getting these tribes to work together is a battle by itself.” Victor had his horse come forward, and spoke in a lower voice. “Hadon is my mentor. His prophecies gave me the courage to do which no man has done before. To unite them.” He looked at me seriously. “I see now that all of that was to pass the torch onto you.”
“That must be difficult,” I said.
Victor shrugged. “A bit. It’s hard to entrust all my hard work to you, who I’ve only met today.” He gave a small smile. “But you have proven yourself, and Hadon has seen your coming. Nalam was our most powerful warrior. He has killed many proud, strong men. Many believed he would one day kill me and take my place.” Victor shrugged yet again, as if this were inconsequential. “Now the day has come, and though I still lead the Plains People, I follow Elekim.”
“I won’t lie, Victor,” I said. “Though we’re fighting side-by-side, it’ll take a miracle to win. Our foe is powerful, and his hatred of us runs deep.”
“We know that,” Victor said. “And we won’t flee. These Radaskim will get a taste of the Plains People’s fury. I think you’ll see why we are so feared.”
* * *
When Shara and I returned to Mongar, the gray light of dawn was spreading across the eastern horizon. We flew into the castle courtyard while the bugles sounded our arrival. The councilmen left the inner keep and came to meet us, looking as if they had just woken up. My exhaustion ran deep, such that I was almost falling in the saddle.
Isaru, Isa, and Fiona ran forward, all clearly relieved to see I was alive. Shara and I slid off our dragons, and we let them fly off to feed, and to get what rest they could before we set out again.
I waited for everyone to gather, and when most of the people from the war council were there, I addressed the assembly. “The Plains People are on our side, now. They are committed to fighting with us against the Radaskim.”
There was a moment of shock. Getting out of their camp alive was one thing, but getting them to help us was quite another.
“I don’t know how you did it,” Syndic Salas said, scratching his yellow beard. “Are you sure?”
“She proved herself to them,” Shara said. “She downed their best warrior. I guess that was enough to impress them.” Shara looked at me. “You’re looking at the newly minted chief of the Black Hills Tribe.”
All of them watched, apparently waiting for me to say something. “The Radaskim will be attacking the Plains People, soon. They’ll die without our help, and after they die, the Radaskim will come here and close in on both sides.”
“There’s no better place to defend ourselves than here,” Lord Percy said.
“Even so, we’re going to go down eventually,” I said. “Odium is more interested in reaching the Sea of Creation in Ragnarok Crater. That’s where we need to go. If he gets there before we do, then the war will be over. For good.”
This announcement caused everyone to start talking and arguing at once.
“We have no choice!” I called out. “This is what we’re doing. We can stay here and die or march out and fight and have a chance!”
“There will be no chance out there,” Lord Percy said, after a moment of silence. “The plains are open, and those crawlers will easily surround us with their numbers. Lord Harrow has already described their tactics in detail.”
“The swarm threatening the plains is still some distance away,” I said. “But if we move quickly, there will be time for our troops to reinforce the Plains People. This is a fight we can win. This is not the time to be cowering behind our walls.”
“And what of the city?” Syndic Salas said. “What of the people here? Most won’t run with you, Elekim.”
“Perhaps we should discuss all this indoors,” Elder Arminius said. “It is a big decision to make, and it will likely need hours of debate to reach a consensus.”
I nodded. “That’s a good idea. Let’s have some breakfast, and some coffee.”
And if I was lucky, a few hours of sleep before heading back out again.
We went inside to continue the discussion.
* * *
The debating went on through the morning.
Useless prattle, I thought, thinking of Nalam’s words last night. The clucking of old women. The shaking of Lord Percy’s jowls certainly added to that image.
But I pushed through despite my utter exhaustion. I was growing impatient, and as time wore on, it was harder not to let it show.
“We could split our forces,” Syndic Salas said. “If we left something like five thousand here, the city would hold for a time.”
“But it would most certainly fall, and sooner than if we committed most of our force,” Lord Percy said. “It would be consigning those men and the city to certain doom.”
“And what is your plan exactly, Elekim?” the Syndic asked. “How does our situation improve by fighting from the Crater?”
I watched him, knowing that he wouldn’t like the answer. “I don’t know if it does, Syndic Salas. I just know that if we stay here and fight, we will lose. The Elder Dragons believe that defending the Sea of Creation is more important than any other goal. For some reason, Odium wants to reach it. If we’re to defend it, that means moving out from here. Yes, we should leave some men behind to hold the walls. But we cannot ignore the eastern side of the mountains. The Radaskim force there is large enough to overwhelm the Plains People, so we have no choice but to help them.”
“If we can’t defeat them here, then we can’t defeat them anywhere else,” Lord Percy said. “What does it profit us to go to the Crater?”
“Because it’s the key to everything,” I said. “It’s the key to defeating the Radaskim in the ultimate sense.”
“How?” the Syndic asked.
“Tiamat, the Elder King, believes the Sea of Creation to be of vital importance,” I said. “It’s needed to defeat the Radaskim.” I didn’t know exactly how it was, but I was convinced of it. “Odium wants to destroy it. That should be enough to let us know it’s worth protecting.”
Everyone was quiet as they considered. I could see that they didn’t understand. Not even I fully understood why the Sea of Creation was so important in defeating Odium. I only knew that it was.
“Many will die on the journey,” Lord Percy said, at last. “But I’m beginning to see that death here is just as sure.”
The Syndic and his advisors looked at Percy, who had up to this point been the greatest defender of staying in place.
“Let me remain in defense of the city,” Lord Percy said. “Give me three thousand men and we can hold it almost as long as five thousand. But not a man less than that.”
“You don’t need more?” I asked.
“More men means more mouths to feed,” the war advisor said. “Three thousand will do almost as well as five. The walls of Mongar are strong. I only ask you leave the cannons behind. They will likely only slow you on your journey north, and we’ll hold all the longer here if we have them. We have nothing to defend by air except some old ballistae fro
m the Mindless Wars. Those antiques are not fit to fire. They’re museum pieces, at best.”
The cannons were heavy and had slowed us down on our retreat. Besides, the cannons needed carts and horses to pull them, and those horses needed food, which meant even more carts. And if we fought from the cover of the Caverns of Creation, which was what I was hoping to do, then cannons would be of little value. I could see the sense of leaving them behind. Here, they could be of use.
“We’re going to travel as lightly as we can, with as many men as we can,” I said. “Only food, weapons, and the warmest clothing we can find.”
“This is really happening,” Fiona said, her face paler than usual. “It’s as if we’re marching to our graves.”
I looked at her, and then at the rest of the council. “There isn’t much hope. We can’t beat Odium head on. But there is a weakness we can exploit and the only way we can take advantage of it is by reaching Ragnarok Crater first.”
“The center of the Crater is a one-hundred-and-fifty-mile march from here,” Syndic Salas said. His face turned, as if his gaze could pierce the stone walls of the council chamber and see that far north. “There are no roads that lead there these days. Only the East Road that strikes across the plains. But the land is flat, and old bridges may still be there. Few men travel that way because of the Plains People.”
“Perhaps they can be our guides,” Shara said.
“Perhaps,” The Syndic said. “If they are true to their word.”
We had to count on it, otherwise this would have all been for nothing.
“When the grass ends, the Plains of Decay begin,” Syndic Salas said. “It is likely snow-covered this time of year, but even so, there will be nothing for the horses to eat beneath it.”
“I can see to the logistics of getting enough fodder for the animals,” Lord Harrow said. “If all goes well, we will be about a week on the Plains of Decay. The Plains People likely know where to feed the horses and where good grazing grounds are.”