by John Gwynne
Riv laughed, breathless. ‘How much do you keep secreted away in your clothing?’ she said. Then looked at the floor. There were two things. A dapple-grey feather and a dried flower. She looked in his eyes. ‘One of my feathers, and the flower I gave you, in Forn.’
‘Aye,’ Bleda said. He looked away, then raised his gaze to meet her eyes. ‘You are my heart, my life, Riv. So I have kept them over my heart. The feather is part of you, and the flower . . .’ He smiled at her, shrugged. ‘I knew then, when you gave it to me.’
‘Knew what?’ Riv whispered.
‘That you felt the same as I.’
A silent moment, and then they were in each other’s arms, kissing, Riv’s wings wrapping about them.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
FRITHA
Fritha braced herself as Wrath crashed into the gate tower of Balara. There was an explosion of rock and masonry cascading down into the courtyard beyond the wall, a cloud of dust enveloping Fritha.
‘Wrath sorry,’ the draig growled, shaking himself.
The rising sun sent Wrath’s shadow stretching across an empty courtyard. Fritha peered into Balara and saw a deserted fortress, gates open and streets empty. The sound of hooves behind her as the Cheren approached and Jin cantered through the gate arch, Cheren riders behind her, spreading out, bows bristling.
Jin looked at the rubble in the courtyard, then up at Wrath and Fritha, perched on a half-destroyed section of the wall. She raised an eyebrow.
‘He is still working on his landings,’ Fritha said. She looked around. ‘I don’t think anyone is here.’
‘I’ll find out,’ Jin said, a touch to her reins and she rode on, along the central street that led to Balara’s tower. Fritha watched the Cheren filter into the fortress, three thousand riders. They broke into groups, some dismounting, going through building after building, checking every room, alcove and hidden space. Others stayed mounted, patrolling the streets. Fritha was impressed with their methodical thoroughness.
There were more hoofbeats on the hill beyond the wall and Arn rode into the courtyard, a hundred of Fritha’s hand-picked warriors with him. Elise was there, gleaming in her mail, her scales shining in the sunrise. Ferals loped around her, some sniffing the ground, others looking up at Fritha.
Asroth had given Fritha the honour of leading the attack on Balara. She had chosen Jin and Morn as her captains. Morn had scouted the fortress from high above last night, before the sun had set, and reported that it looked deserted, but that was not to say that there was not some nasty ambush-in-waiting lurking in the shadows.
‘Hold this courtyard and the gate,’ Fritha said to Arn and Elise. ‘Let the Cheren do the hunting. There are enough of them.’
A shadow passed over the courtyard and Morn swept down to her, two score half-breed Kadoshim behind her. Morn alighted on the wall beside Fritha, her kin spreading over the fortress, swooping low.
‘It looks empty,’ Fritha said.
‘Aye,’ Morn grunted. ‘A pity. I would have liked to kill some more of the Order of the Bright Star.’
‘Where is your father?’ Fritha asked.
‘With the war-host, half a day behind us,’ Morn growled.
‘This has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?’ Fritha said. ‘And yet, now we are a day away from Ripa and the Ben-Elim, it feels so far away.’
‘Yes, I am sick of this waiting, eager for the battle to begin.’
‘Let’s get a better look.’ Fritha leaned over Wrath’s neck.
‘Take me up, my darling,’ she whispered.
Wrath shook, snapped his wings out and stepped off the gate tower. They fell towards the courtyard, Arn’s eyes flaring wide, but Wrath’s wings caught the air and they started to glide, then his wings were beating and they were rising, over the rooftops of the fortress, up, towards the tower, circling around it, spiralling upwards, until they were at the very top of the tower.
‘Can you land there, without destroying the tower and killing all the Cheren on the ground?’ Fritha asked Wrath.
‘Don’t know, Wrath try,’ Wrath growled.
Fritha laughed.
Wrath’s wings changed angle and he hovered above the tower, slowly descended, his bowed legs searching for purchase. Tiles cracked, crumbled to powder, and Fritha felt the whole tower strain. And then Wrath was balanced, the tower holding, though stones and timber creaked and groaned. A tile slid and skittered down the roof, fell spinning into air, a long drop and then the tinkle of it splintering on the ground.
Morn circled them, then landed.
‘He’s learning,’ Morn said.
‘Well done, my darling,’ Fritha said, patting Wrath’s neck. The draig rumbled contentedly.
Fritha looked to the north and saw the mist of Gulla’s Revenants, moving slowly across the land like spilt oil. In the sky Kadoshim and their half-breed offspring circled like crows, all moving inexorably south, towards Balara. As Fritha looked she saw some of those specks in the sky were much closer. They were moving fast, with every heartbeat growing closer, larger.
‘He is coming,’ she whispered.
Asroth was easy to spot in the sky, bigger than the others, his black mail and helm seeming to suck all light into it, a dark shadow around him, the very air dimmer.
He saw Fritha upon Balara’s tower and angled towards her, hovered over her a moment, his long axe slung across his back, his honour guard of Kadoshim swirling around them, a storm of wings, and then Asroth was alighting beside Fritha and Morn, his wings snapping closed.
‘Are they here?’ Asroth asked them.
‘No, my beloved,’ Fritha said, ‘they have fled your coming.’
‘Ah, that’s a great pity,’ Asroth said, looking genuinely disappointed. ‘I wanted to whet my axe in battle. It is different from executing prisoners. And this Order of the Bright Star were founded by Corban. Killing them will be the next best thing to killing that maggot.’
‘You’ll get your chance, I’m sure,’ Fritha said. ‘But first, you’ll have to make do with Ben-Elim and White-Wings.’
She looked to the south, Asroth and Morn following her gaze.
To the south a plain of sun-dried grass rolled towards the sea, dotted with low hills and clusters of woodland. A curling timber wall enclosed the plain before Ripa.
Someone’s been busy, Fritha thought.
‘There it is,’ she said. ‘Ripa, and our enemy.’
‘On the morrow they will all be dead,’ Asroth growled, his voice cold as a winter’s grave.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
RIV
It was not long after dawn, part of the rising sun still merged with the horizon, sending long shadows creeping across the world, but Riv was dressed in her war gear and was standing in Ripa’s highest tower room.
She had been summoned to a council of war.
The memory of Bleda was fresh in her mind; she could almost feel his body, still curled against her in sleep, feel his touch on her skin, his lips upon hers. She turned, smiling, to look at him, standing close to her, Ellac, Ruga and Yul with him. Their eyes met, a flicker of a smile from him.
Meical was studying the table in the centre of the room, which had a map of Ripa and the surrounding area laid out upon it. Raina, Alcyon and Ukran were talking about good staging points with Aphra and a score of White-Wing captains, leaders of the regiments that would defend Ripa’s walls.
Ben-Elim swept into the room, entering through the huge windows. Twenty, thirty of them. Riv stepped back as Kol entered, his blond hair tied and braided with silver wire, his coat of mail gleaming. He strode to the centre of the room, giving Meical a disdainful look. Other Ben-Elim joined him, Dumah and Hadran amongst them.
‘The Kadoshim have taken Balara,’ Dumah announced. ‘They are a day from our walls.’
A silence as that news settled into everyone.
‘Our White-Wings will man the new wall and form three lines on the plain between the wall and Ripa,’ Kol said. ‘Three shield walls
: a centre and two flanks. Bleda and his Sirak will guard one flank, the giants—’
‘Stop,’ Bleda said.
Kol stuttered to a halt, confusion on his face.
‘Kol, you will not command my forces in this battle,’ Bleda said. He looked at the other Ben-Elim. ‘I was of the understanding that Kol had been removed from his position of authority until he stands trial before the Assembly.’
‘You are right,’ Dumah said, ‘but Kol has led the defence strategy for seven moons. We –’ he gestured to the Ben-Elim around him – ‘believe it is better for him to lead this campaign. It will be a battle. It cannot be run by a council.’
‘Let Meical lead, then,’ Bleda said. ‘He has actually defeated Asroth before. And I will not fight under Kol’s command.’
‘Meical!’ Kol sneered. ‘Unacceptable.’ He looked at Dumah. ‘Let this petty child leave, if that’s what he wishes. We don’t need him, anyway, our victory is obvious. Asroth leads a rabble. At Drassil we were surprised, but now Asroth has no chance. A collection of acolytes and some half-breed Kadoshim, they are no match for us, or our White-Wing legions.’
Dumah looked from Bleda to Kol.
‘We do need him,’ Dumah said. ‘I have seen the reports of Asroth’s warband.’ He looked at Bleda. ‘Kol is right for this task.’
‘Then I will leave, and take my warband with me.’
‘If the little man goes, I will leave with him,’ Ukran said.
Kol glared at the giant.
Dumah sucked in a long breath, his mouth a tight line. He looked at the Ben-Elim behind him, some shuffling, nodding, rippling of wings.
‘Then Kol will step down as commander of this battle.’
‘I am in agreement for Meical to lead,’ Hadran said.
‘I will not lead,’ Meical said quietly. ‘But I will fight Asroth, and let no man, woman or Ben-Elim try to stop me.’
Something in Meical’s words set Riv’s blood thrumming, the first hint of her battle-joy.
‘It would not be fitting for you to lead,’ Dumah said. ‘If the Assembly agrees, I shall lead. I have been here since the defences began and know the terrain as well as any.’
The Ben-Elim nodded and murmured their agreement.
Is this the first time the Ben-Elim’s leadership has ever been questioned? And that they have changed their course as the result of a human’s objection? The thought that it had come from Bleda made Riv’s chest swell.
‘Does that settle this?’ Dumah asked Bleda. ‘Are you prepared to accept my leadership?’
Bleda looked at Meical, who dipped his head.
‘I am,’ Bleda said.
‘Good. Then let us proceed. We have close to seven and a half thousand White-Wing warriors gathered here. One thousand Sirak riders, and a hundred Kurgan giants. Ripa is not large enough to contain one third of our troops, and what little space there is will be given to the protection of the innocent, the old and young, those who cannot fight.’
Are the Ben-Elim finally learning compassion for us mere mortals? Riv wondered.
‘So, we will have to meet them on the field. That is, in part, why we have built a wall out on the plain. Asroth approaches from the north –’ he pointed to the map on the table – ‘with a host of Kadoshim, half-breeds, acolytes and these mist-walkers.’
‘Revenants,’ Riv said. Dumah looked at her. ‘They are called Revenants.’
Dumah gave a curt nod.
‘What are their numbers?’ a voice said, quiet, calm. It was Meical.
‘Impossible to tell,’ Kol said, not even looking at Meical.
There was a flapping of wings at the tower window behind Riv and a white crow flew into the chamber, Rab alighting on Riv’s shoulder.
‘Well met, friend,’ Rab croaked in Riv’s ear.
She smiled to see him and scratched his chest.
‘Byrne and Order in Sarva,’ Rab muttered.
‘We are outnumbered,’ Dumah continued. ‘Our scouts have flown as close as possible to Asroth’s host, but they have more wings in the air than us, so it is difficult. We have had losses.’
‘How many do we face?’ Meical asked again.
‘Maybe twenty thousand,’ Dumah said, ‘but most of the host move under a cloak of mist, so it is impossible to tell accurately.’
‘Aye, Gulla and his Revenants,’ Riv said.
‘Yes. They will prove difficult. Kol has told us that we need to take their heads for them to fall.’
‘And do all you can to avoid their bite. If they put their teeth in you, you will be turned into one of them, within a day. Armour, helms, gloves, greaves. Cover all you can,’ Riv advised.
Dumah nodded. ‘That information will be spread.’
‘Taking their heads is one way to put them down,’ Riv said. ‘The best way is to stab them with a rune-marked blade.’
Dumah frowned at that.
‘The Order of the Bright Star wield them,’ Riv said.
‘But the Order of the Bright Star are not here,’ Dumah pointed out.
‘They were supposed to be,’ Kol muttered. ‘I sent for them. But they are late.’
‘They are one day behind Asroth,’ Riv said, trying to keep the anger from her voice. ‘And they have marched from the north, after defeating a host of those Revenants.’
‘We will have to fight without them,’ Dumah said.
‘Aye,’ Riv agreed. ‘If we can hold Asroth for one day, then the Order of the Bright Star will be here.’ She looked at Kol. ‘How do you propose to fight these Revenants? You have been here for nearly seven moons. You have fought our enemy, know what we face. How have you planned to meet them?’
‘Be careful, half-breed,’ Dumah said. ‘You are close to being disrespectful. We will meet our enemy with more than just our courage. We have not been idle over the last few moons. A wall has been built around the plain of Ripa. We do not expect it to hold our enemy indefinitely; not when they have aerial troops who can fly over it. But the bulk of their war-host will fight on foot. We hope it will hold back their acolytes, and these Revenants, if the walls are manned thick enough. We have over five hundred scouts and hunters, skilled with the bow. They will be split between the outer wall and Ripa’s tower.’
You have a thousand Sirak, but they are not best used on a wall. They need space, to ride.
‘Aye,’ Meical said. ‘It will help, though the Revenants are adept at scaling walls. We saw them climb Dun Seren’s walls and breach them in short time. They swarm at points and interlink, make a tower of limbs.’
‘That is good to know,’ Dumah said.
‘Pouring fire on them slowed them,’ Hadran said.
‘We have pitch and oil, but the walls are timber, they could catch fire,’ said Dumah.
‘Soak the walls first, it may not stop them catching fire eventually, but it will slow the process,’ said Meical.
‘And a burning wall would hold them,’ Hadran added.
‘For a while, until it burned itself out,’ Meical said.
‘We are not expecting the wall to stop them. More likely it will hold them a while, and maybe allow us to thin their numbers,’ Dumah said. ‘Behind the wall there is a league of land before the camp. We are expecting that to be the primary battleground. In that space two trenches have been dug around Ripa, both filled with stakes and barricades, both flooded with water channelled from the river. They are designed to slow our enemy. In between those barriers are hidden pits, positioned in a way to channel our enemy into choke-points. At each of those points a White-Wing shield wall will be stationed, each one a thousand strong.’ He looked at the White-Wing captains. ‘We will have reserves close by. From what we know, these Revenants will not tire, so rotating fresh troops will be vital to holding those points. If a choke-point breaks, all fall back behind the second trench, where we do the same again.’
Meical nodded. ‘This is a good plan, against Asroth’s acolytes. I am not so sure those trenches will hold the Revenants, or channel them where
you want them to go. And the skies will be dangerous.’
‘What else can we do?’ Dumah asked.
‘Kill Gulla, and all his Revenants will die,’ Riv said. She waved a hand as everyone in the chamber looked at her.
‘That is very good to know,’ Dumah said. He looked at the Ben-Elim in the room. ‘We shall put together a strike force. If Gulla is spotted, we will go for him. But if Gulla does not join the attack, if he remains at the rear?’
‘Then we do it the hard way,’ Riv said. ‘Kill them one Revenant at a time. They don’t like fire. What about the channels you’ve dug?’
‘Those channels are leagues long, and filled with water,’ Dumah said.
Riv turned and looked out of the window. To the south Ripa was protected by a bay. To the west the river curled out of the Sarva, wide and deep feeding into the bay. It was a natural border to Ripa’s town and also a good natural defence. Masts, piers and boathouses lined the riverbank. Riv could see where the two channels began, the first only a few hundred paces behind the new wall. There was about half a league between the first and second channel, both curling in half-circles from the river around the entirety of Ripa, ending at the foot of hills to the east of Ripa. The space between the two channels was a good killing ground, mostly undulating grassland. Riv could see clusters of pits, designed to feed the enemy into three narrow points.
‘The flanks are weak,’ Riv said. ‘To the west, if Asroth has forces that can cross the river, and east, where the wall ends and the hills begin.’
‘I will protect the east flank,’ Bleda said, staring at the land from their vantage point.
Riv looked at him. She had thought that he would prefer the plains to the hills, better ground for horses and manoeuvrability.
‘The start of an idea,’ Bleda said, tapping his head. ‘I would like to take a ride through those hills, later today.’
‘I like it when he gets that look,’ Ruga whispered. ‘Previously it has ended in Cheren dying.’
‘And I will watch over your west flank, guard the river,’ Ukran said.