Ikoria

by Wizards of the Coast

  In spite of this admonition, there were a few screams when Zeph lumbered out of the darkness, his eyes glowing blue-white and sparks crawling along his horns. Jirina could hear the sergeant berating his soldiers to stay calm and mentally raised her estimation of the man—it was a big thing to ask of a soldier trained all his life to fight monsters like this one. No crossbow bolts rose to meet them as the great white cat reached the wall and stepped daintily over it, Barrow waving to the soldiers below from his position astride Zeph’s neck.

  Rol came chuffing up to the gate, with Brin clinging to his fur. The girl looked at the wall distrustfully.

  “It’ll be all right,” Jirina said. “They won’t shoot.”

  “Never been in a city before,” Brin muttered, as she urged Rol through the gate. “Is it true there’s, like, hundreds of people all living together?”

  After passing through the secondary wall, Jirina remounted Zeph and directed Barrow to lead the cat on a path that kept them out of the most populated areas of the First Ring. It was impossible to avoid notice altogether, though, since the strip of land between the walls was crowded with suburbs, barracks, and manufactories. Jirina pictured reports of their presence racing back into the city, triggering panic. By the time dawn was breaking, they’d made it to the main wall, and as she’d predicted, the defenses were bristling with weapons, ballistae manned and ready, ranks of crossbows and spears visible atop the high battlements.

  Seeing the packed ramparts, Jirina felt her heart sinking. This isn’t going to work.

  Vivien stepped up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “They’ll never listen to me.” Jirina’s fists clenched. “Colonel Bryd is already there. He’s next in the chain of command, and he’s always thought I was a useless little girl trading on my father’s name. He won’t help us.”

  “He’s not the only one up there.” Vivien looked up at the wall and the distant soldiers. “Those men will be watching.”

  “Bryd is the ranking officer. By right, he should be in command.”

  “And yet.” Vivien gave a slight smile. “I have known a great many soldiers over years. They make a great fuss over the rules in times of peace, but in a crisis”—she waved a hand behind them, in the direction of the oncoming horde—“it all comes down to authority. And, more important still, the appearance of authority.”

  “Appearance of authority.” Jirina wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers and took a deep breath. “Right.”

  Once again she had Zeph stay back out of ballista range while she went forward on foot. Jirina cupped her hands as she walked forward, ready to repeat her introduction, but before she could the postern gate swung open. The small door, set into the enormous main gate, let out a party of a dozen soldiers. Jirina recognized the ornate uniforms of the Citadel Guard, and at their head a party of high-ranking officers, led by the familiar face of Colonel Bryd.

  “Captain Jirina,” the colonel said.

  They were standing at the base of the wall, well within earshot of the soldiers on the battlements. Jirina steeled herself, aware that anything that happened here would be reported throughout the city in minutes. Unlike the sergeant at the secondary wall, there was enough light now that Zeph was clearly visible, sitting on his haunches in the dusty road.

  “Colonel,” Jirina said.

  “It is good to see you alive,” Bryd said. “I had feared the worst, after what happened.”

  “Likewise,” Jirina said. “Given how quickly the defenses of the camp collapsed, I assumed you’d been killed before you could organize them.”

  “I was taken by surprise, like everyone else,” Bryd said, ignoring the jibe. “I took command during the retreat.”

  “And now you’re in charge of the city?”

  “Until your father returns,” Bryd said.

  “My father is dead.” Jirina raised her voice. “General Kudro is dead. Killed by the traitor Lukka.”

  Bryd glared at her, but he raised his voice to match. “In which case, as the ranking officer of the Coppercoats, I must assume responsibility for the defense of the city.” He turned to look at Zeph. “In pursuance of which, Captain, I must ask why you appear to have come here in the company of two monsters.”

  “These monsters are Zeph and Rol. They are bonded to Barrow and Brin, respectively, and they have offered to assist in the defense of Drannith. Given the circumstances, I thought it best to accept their offer.”

  “You thought it best?” Bryd narrowed his eyes. “You have exceeded your authority, Captain.”

  Jirina took a step closer, and her tone dropped to a whisper. “Don’t be an ass, Bryd. Take command if you like. But you know we need all the help we can get.”

  “I know no such thing,” Bryd said. “The walls of Drannith have stood for centuries. They will weather this storm as well.”

  “We’ve never faced anything like this,” Jirina said. “We can’t treat Lukka’s army like just another bunch of monsters. My father was too blind to see that, and it cost him his life, along with the lives of gods know how many Coppercoats. I need you to do better.”

  “And open the gates to your ‘friendly’ monsters?” Bryd raised his voice again. “I must say, Captain, this raises serious doubts about your loyalties. After all, if Captain Lukka can side with the enemies of humanity, why not his fiancée?”

  Jirina was aware of mutters behind Bryd, among the other senior officers. She looked them over, gauging their expressions. They were men and women who’d grown up under her father’s rule, who’d spent their whole careers in the shadow of the General. To them, Kudro had loomed as eternal as the walls of Drannith, and now they were adrift.

  “Colonel Bryd,” Jirina said. “You will not allow my allies to enter the city?”

  “I will not,” Bryd said stoutly. “And you will only be entering in chains.”

  The appearance of authority. “In that case,” Jirina said, “in my father’s name, I am relieving you of command of Drannith’s defenses. Please step aside.”

  “What?” Bryd barked a laugh. “You can’t do that. You don’t have the authority.”

  “Major Humron.” Jirina focused her attention on a woman standing just behind Bryd. She tried her best to ignore the pounding of her heart, focusing on exuding an air of authority. “Please open the gate and clear the streets beyond. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  There was a long moment of silence.

  The thing about Colonel Bryd, Jirina reflected, was that he really believed in the rules. He’d worked his way up by following them, or more precisely by twisting them to his personal advantage, adept at the kind of bureaucratic infighting that no military hierarchy can avoid. Under ordinary circumstances, it was a skill that had served him well.

  But Vivien was right. Circumstances were no longer ordinary. The chain of command gave Bryd the authority. According to the rules and the oaths they had sworn, every Coppercoat should have obeyed his orders over Jirina’s. But they were humans, not machines, and they were scared. General Kudro, the rock of their universe, had vanished, and here was his daughter giving instructions in a tone that brooked no nonsense. And, perhaps, offering help, which all but the most blinkered had to know was desperately needed.

  The thing about Colonel Bryd was that nobody actually liked him very much.

  “Sir.” Major Humron saluted, fist to chest, and turned to the Citadel Guard sergeant. “Open the gate and set up a cordon to disperse the crowd.”

  “What?” Bryd squawked. “You can’t do that!”

  “I just did,” Jirina said, as the other officers turned away and started issuing instructions. “Now I suggest you scurry back to your quarters and stay out of the way, before I have you arrested.

  ***

  For the moment, everyone seemed to be following her orders.

  Jirina suspected it wouldn’t last. At
some point, when the crisis was past—assuming they all survived—military authority would reassert itself and someone would notice that she didn’t have any real basis to be telling anyone what to do. In the meantime, she was the General’s daughter, and more to the point, she’d brought in a monster the size of a house. That might unsettle some, but those who’d fought Lukka’s horde at the river understood what it would mean to have a few monsters on their side.

  Now she was in the Citadel again, changed into a fresh uniform but still without sleep except for what she’d snatched on Zeph’s back. Vivien, Barrow, and Brin were with her, the two monsters curled up outside in the courtyard, watched by nervous guards, along with the unflappable Major Humron. A map of Drannith and its environs was spread on the table.

  “Lukka could have attacked by now,” Major Humron said. “Monsters were harrying us all the way back from the river to the Second Ring. Why would he hold back?”

  “His fastest monsters could have reached the wall by now,” Vivien said. “But I suspect much of his force moves more slowly. He’ll want to keep them together for one overwhelming push.”

  “That still doesn’t buy us much time,” Jirina said. “Another day at most.”

  “I agree,” Barrow said. “He will strike tomorrow.”

  Humron nodded, scowling. Jirina ran her finger along the line that represented the secondary wall and sighed.

  “That gives us one night to evacuate the First Ring,” she said. “At least everything on the northern side of the city.”

  “Evacuate?” The major frowned. “You don’t think we can hold the secondary wall?”

  “I don’t think we should even try. There aren’t enough ballistae to stop Lukka’s flyers, and his larger monsters can simply step over it. Whoever we leave there is going to be slaughtered.”

  “But the First Ring is full of valuable targets,” Humron said. “The foundries, the academy–”

  “I doubt Lukka will waste time pillaging,” Jirina said. “He thinks he’s here to save the city, not destroy it. He’ll be coming here, to the Citadel, if he can manage it.” She shrugged. “Either way, we don’t have a choice.”

  “I’ll give the orders,” the major said.

  “Barrow,” Jirina said. “Have you contacted your friends?”

  “I have,” the young man said gravely. There was something solemn about him, though his horned helmet and white fur looked outlandish in the heart of Coppercoat territory. “The great crystal allows my voice to reach farther than normal.”

  “Vheen said she’s on her way!” Brin piped up. “And a couple of others.”

  “There may be more who could hear but not reply,” Barrow said. “I’ll be able to reach them as they come closer.”

  “Make sure you do,” Jirina said. “I don’t want any of our allies getting shot.” She glanced at Humron, who gave a gruff nod.

  “Even with help,” the major said, “this is going to be a disaster. We never anticipated anything like this, dozens of monsters attacking the walls at once. They’re going to break through, and even if we take them down one-by-one, the cost–”

  “It is not the monsters who are the threat,” Vivien said. “It is Lukka and the power the Ozolith has granted him. Even if his army is wiped out, he can simply gather another.”

  “She’s right,” Jirina said. “We’ll have to bait him out and take him down.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say “kill him,” not yet, though she knew deep in her heart that that was what it had to come to. After all, what else do you do with a man who can control an army of monsters? Throw him in prison? Her heart felt that it would tear in two, her mind leaping between the memory of Lukka in her rooms, kissing her with such attentive passion, and his sword in her father’s heart.

  “What do we use for bait?” Humron said.

  Jirina caught Vivien’s eye, and sighed. “Me,” she said.

  ***

  By the next morning, Jirina hadn’t managed to get much more sleep—a couple of hours before dawn, grabbed at Major Humron’s insistence, after she was sure the evacuation was proceeding according to plan. All night, the civilians who lived and worked in the First Ring had streamed in through the gates, followed by the defenders of the secondary wall. The ordinary citizens were shocked at the need to abandon the First Ring, something that hadn’t been necessary for as long as anyone could remember. The soldiers, who’d heard the rumors of what they were facing, were relieved to be able to fight atop the city wall’s comforting bulk.

  Both groups were surprised by the monsters waiting in the market square, just inside the main northern gate. Zeph and Rol were there, but they’d been joined by others, as Barrow’s call had gone out and bonders had responded. There was an emerald-scaled lizard-snake, accompanied by a slender woman dressed all in shades of green, and a great winged boar, prickle-weathered and ridden by a gnarled old man who laughed and shouted in an incomprehensible accent. A boy younger than Brin brought in a walking tree that was taller than the wall itself, and Jirina had to arrange for a section to be cleared so the thing could clamber over. More were arriving all the time, and gradually the guards were getting used to the idea, so Jirina didn’t have to worry about anyone opening fire in the darkness.

  It still wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. Barrow had said they could expect only a couple dozen bonders in the best case, which meant their monsters would be outnumbered by ten to one or more against the horde Lukka could bring against them. Brin insisted the bonders’ monsters would fight harder, but Jirina couldn’t count on that. I’ll have to hold them in reserve. She and Vivien had crafted a plan, but she hesitated to put it into motion. Even if it worked, it would cost Coppercoat lives by the score.

  So will anything else, she told herself. Scores are better than hundreds, and hundreds are better than thousands. She thought of her father, the iron resolve that had helped him lead the city through crisis after crisis.

  She wondered if Major Humron and the others were listening to her simply because the situation was so nightmarish that none of them wanted to be blamed when it went wrong.

  When the sun rose, Jirina was atop the north bastion, the massive gatehouse that overlooked the main northern road leading away from the city. It was the most direct route, and she’d ordered it heavily defended, the roof packed with ballistae and battlements thick with soldiers. The Coppercoats had filed into their positions in the pre-dawn darkness, the warning crystals on their coats glowing like tiny green stars. They spread out in a vast arc with the bastion at the center, lining the wall that towered over both the city behind it and the suburbs and barracks of the First Ring.

  The sun crept up over the horizon, light spreading across the land like the curtain coming up on a play. In the golden glow of dawn, the defenders were greeted with a sight that no Coppercoat had ever confronted—not a single monster, not even a pack, but an army, spread out through the First Ring in a neat line. Directly opposite the bastion was a true giant, a monstrous elemental-clade thing like a turtle, on whose back was a rocky mountain peak, somehow white with snow. Its craggy top rose nearly as high as the wall itself, and smaller monsters clung to it like swarming ants.

  To either side, the pattern was the same, the largest monsters forming the front line with their smaller brethren taking shelter around them. Not that any of the monsters were small—distance made it hard to see, but Jirina guessed some of the “little” ones were the size of a bull—but they were still dwarfed by the largest of their kind. There were representatives of all five clades: black-scaled nightmares with their multiple eyes; hairy, snorting beasts; long-fanged dinosaurs; sleek cats; and elementals trailing smoke, flames, or vaporous mist. Flanking the elemental turtle were a six-legged, four-tusked boar that was nearly as big and looked meaner, and a nightmare that looked like a worm carried on hundreds of legs, each flank lined with glowing red eyes, four long tendrils w
eaving through the air above it.

  Even the air was full of the enemy. Airy things swooped and dove, bird-like creatures screeched, and a hovering, whale-shaped nightmare blinked down at the humans with huge, sleepy eyes.

  “Gods above.” Jirina heard the soldiers around her muttering, praying.

  “There’s so many.”

  “We’re all going to die.”

  She took a deep breath and shouted as loud as she could manage. “Make ready to fire!”

  The cry was picked up and repeated by officers and sergeants all along the wall. Crossbows clicked and clattered, and ballistae groaned as they rotated to face their targets. Jirina turned to Vivien and Brin, who were waiting behind her for their final instructions. Vivien was calm, while Brin stared at the assembled monsters in obvious fascination.

  “Remember the plan,” Jirina told the bonder. “You and your friends deal with anything that gets over the walls, but don’t split up, and don’t show yourself to Lukka.”

  “Got it!” Brin said. “Barrow says he and the others are ready.”

  “Vivien, we’re going to need help dealing with the flyers,” Jirina said. “The ballistae can’t handle this many.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Vivien said. She drew her strange, forked bow and tested its tension. “My power does have limits.”

  “I know,” Jirina said. “Thank you.”

  “They’re coming!” a soldier shouted.

  Jirina turned back to the battlement and watched as the great turtle took a slow, thunderous step forward. High atop it, she fancied she could see a single human figure, sitting where he could watch the show.

  Here we go.

  ***

  The flyers darted forward first, and the ballistae opened fire with devastating effect.

  Dealing with flying monsters had always been one of Drannith’s primary concerns. The city’s great walls and stout defenders were useless against a creature that could simply soar over them, and raids by flying monsters had always been one of the more persistent dangers the Coppercoats had faced. The walls were studded with heavy ballistae, some armed with long, heavy bolts to engage big targets, some with bundles of steel darts that would break open in flight, spreading out to catch more agile opponents.