by Glen Cook
“I’m aware of the risks, Lord Lun-yu. I’m also certain we’ve grabbed a monster by the tail. It might not let us turn loose.” Shih-ka’i turned to the Candidates manning the ballistae. “Thirty-second intervals. Loose the first shaft.”
He watched silver flicker up and into the east, then strode through the portal.
The situation had worsened in his absence. A sea of warriors surrounded the stone thing. A soldier-river swept toward the dune. Hsu Shen’s men were kicking up clouds of dust in their race to rejoin their comrades.
Flying things swarmed over the lonely mountain like clouds of gnats. “What are they?” Shih-ka’i asked.
“Dragons with riders, Lord Ssu-ma. Small dragons, probably specially bred. It’s impossible to be sure from here, but the riders seem to be nonhuman. Ouyan is trying to get a better look, but something keeps interfering.”
Shih-ka’i moved to where a Tervola sat cross-legged before a wide silver bowl pushed deep into the sand. The man kept chanting the same cantrips over and over. Cloudy pictures would form in the water in the bowl. Then something would interfere and they would fade away.
“Shaft coming, Lord,” Pan ku said.
Shih-ka’i turned, caught it, drew a line connected with the flood chasing Hsu Shen. He brought it down perfectly. Whole platoons vaporized. Companies were decimated by splashes of molten stone.
“Shaft, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i flung that and the next into the rapidly expanding horde around the stone thing. Huge, steaming holes appeared amidst the darkness of them.
That desert-shaking roar came again.
“I think somebody’s mad, Lord,” said Pan ku. Shih-ka’i glanced at his batman. Pan ku wore a straight face.
“I think so, yes.”
“The flyers, Lord.”
The gnat-swarms hurtled toward the dune. “Stand by!” Shih-ka’i ordered. “They could be dangerous.”
“Shaft, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i drew a line between the shaft and a flyer bobbing in the heart of the swarm. When the flash faded, he saw several objects falling in flames. Two split up as riders separated from their mounts.
The others came on. They bobbed too much for accurate counting, though Shihka’i decided there were at least fifty. More were gathering above the stone thing.
He put another shaft in. It was more effective. At least six flyers went down. The last shaft took out another four.
Their weaving and bobbing ceased. They peeled off in twos and threes to streak toward the dune. “Spell of concealment,” Shih-ka’i called. “Spell of visual dislocation.”
A blackness covered the dune. No one appeared to be where he had stood a moment earlier. The first flyers streaked over so low their passage stirred the dust. The riders struck with shafts of light.
“Casualties?” Shih-ka’i demanded.
“None, Lord.”
“If anyone should be injured, send him through the portal immediately. We don’t leave anyone they can use against us. Same with any of their people we capture. Through the portal. Does anyone own access to an aerial demon? Meng Chiao? What are you waiting for? Get it up there.”
Bolts of power pounded the dune. The Tervola turned most of them aside. They flung back whatever sorceries they commanded. Few had any effect.
“Hsu Shen won’t make it, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i could see that. He was considering the problem already. He had three shafts left at the fortress. He wanted to use them against the thing of stone. Should he sacrifice Hsu Shen? No. “Pan ku. Come with me. I’ll return shortly, gentlemen.”
He did not return as quickly as he anticipated. He paused to give the big map a look and to leave Tasi-feng with fresh instructions.
“We’ve lost control out there,” he said. “They’ve got too much and we’ve got too little. We’ll stall them as long as we can. Here.” He indicated a position on the map. “The most likely place for them to come westward. Move a brigade out now. Have them march light. The heat out there is murderous. We’ll use portals as much as we can.”
“Lord, we don’t have enough of them.”
“Take them away from the other patrols. Tell them to march to that pass and start digging in. Orders to all legions. Start marching here immediately. Begin reinforcing with their ready units now. Take whatever initiatives you deem necessary. As soon as you man this place with their people, send out the other brigade. I’ve got to get back. Hsu Shen is in trouble. I want those last three shafts at one-minute intervals.”
“As you command, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i trotted out to the transfer portal. “Pan ku,” he panted, “I don’t think I’m young enough anymore.”
“If I might be so bold, Lord. Why don’t you stay at the heart of the web and let your officers do the running?”
“You make perfect sense. I don’t know why. I just want to be on the scene. Maybe because I’ve never been there before.”
They passed through the portal and climbed the dune.
Hsu Shen was in big trouble. He was close now, but horsemen were about to split around him and cut him off. Shih-ka’i checked the sky. The dragon riders were engaged in complex aerobatics, trying to vanquish Meng Chiao’s demon. The demon had left his mark. Their numbers had been reduced.
“They’re very clumsily controlled, Lord,” the demon’s master observed.
“They’re like the men we met in the mountains?”
“Dead? Yes, Lord. However, the riders aren’t human. We obtained a specimen and sent it through for examination.”
“Good. Good. Casualties?”
“Only two men so far, Lord.”
“Excellent.”
“Shaft, Lord,” Pan ku said.
“Thank you.” Shih-ka’i took another look at Hsu Shen’s situation. He would have to spend at least one shaft to salvage the advance party. He caught the weapon, imagined the line. The missile came down. It shattered the pursuing riders.
“Begin evacuating the troops,” Shih-ka’i ordered. “We don’t have much more time.”
“Perhaps not enough to get us all out, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i considered the size of the approaching horde. “We’ll form around the portal. Send the men through first.”
Meng Chiao trembled. “As you command, Lord.”
“Shaft, Lord.”
“Thank you, Pan ku.” Shih-ka’i continued to study the enemy. Hsu Shen was safe for the moment. Should he drop the weapon into the crowd surrounding the stone thing? Those two figures atop its head….
He targeted, connecting shaft and stone head.
The line bent immediately. “I need help, gentlemen. Targeting on the idol’s head.”
Slowly, slowly, the foot of the line crawled back toward the great beast’s head….
The shaft arrived too soon. Shih-ka’i could not bring it down where he wanted. It hit the beast’s shoulder. Tons of molten rock blew away, showering the soldiers swarming below.
“I think you did more damage that way than you would have with a direct shot,” Meng Chiao observed. “Look at the swath that cut.”
Shih-ka’i did not respond. He was watching the minute dots scamper down the monster’s back. Too late to get them now. “Meng Chiao. Pass the word. After we bring the next shaft down, everyone who can should call up a demon and turn it loose.”
“The thing controlling them is crazy-angry, Lord,” Meng Chiao observed. “It’s not doing well at all. Minds me of a spiteful child breaking its toys.”
“Uhm. Keep it angry.”
“Shaft, Lord.”
“Aye.” Shih-ka’i glanced at Hsu Shen. He would make it with less dramatic help. “Help me, gentlemen. I’m going to bring this one down across its snout.”
He imagined a hard, iron arc. His companions added their wills to his. This time there was less resistance. The enemy mind remained distracted by anger.
An instant after the last shaft struck, the desert again reverberated to a great angry roar. “That one
hit a nerve,” Pan ku remarked.
“So it seems. Get those demons up, gentlemen. Centurion! Can’t you move those men into the portal faster?”
“No, Lord.”
“Very well. Don’t slack off.” Shih-ka’i turned to watch Hsu Shen finish his last hundred yards.
Hsu Shen’s men ran lightly and well, in good order, as befit soldiers of Shinsan. They did not cast fearful glances over their shoulders. The only gear they had abandoned was that which their commander had told them to drop. They retained their shields and weapons. “Good men,” Shih-ka’i observed.
Meng Chiao responded, “This is the Seventeenth, Lord. This was Lord Wu’s legion.”
Shih-ka’i smiled within his mask. “I see.” The man spoke as if his remark explained everything there was to know about the legion.
Lord Wu, in his time, had been one of the great Tervola, but he had been one of those unfortunates seduced by recent politics. He had died mysteriously in Lioantung when that city had been the seat of Eastern Army.
A demon appeared. It howled grotesquely. It stood fourteen feet tall and had a half-dozen arms. It pranced around cursing the man who had summoned it. After receiving orders, it whirled, estimated the enemy force, changed shape.
Shih-ka’i watched it become a copper rhinoceros of epic proportions. It galloped toward the enemy. He loosed a sigh of disgust. “Someone isn’t taking this seriously.”
The shiny rhino trundled past Hsu Shen. It bellowed heartily and charged the nearest horsemen. It rumbled around in circles, flipping its nose horns this way and that. It overwhelmed opponents by virtue of sheer mass.
“A clown thing with a certain effectiveness,” Shih-ka’i admitted grudgingly. He did not feel a demon of that temper befit the dignity of a Tervola.
The demon shifted shape again, became octopod. It armed six tentacles with swords seized from its victims.
A dragon rider came out of the sun. It put a spear-bolt through the demon. The thing did not approve. It yelped like an injured puppy, faded away.
A dozen more Outside monsters joined the fray. They stopped the riders briefly. Hsu Shen and his men came puffing up the dune.
“Centurion, put these men through first. They’re exhausted.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i examined the progress of the evacuation. It looked too slow. Too damned slow.
The riders pushed forward despite heavy casualties. They surrounded Shihka’i’s dune-walled position, then waited at a respectful distance. Lord Ssu-ma laughed. “You’ve got us now, don’t you? No chance for us to get away, eh? All you have to do is bring up the infantry and finish us, eh?” He directed his Tervola to concentrate on the nearest foot soldiers.
He stared at the stone thing. Was it stupid? If it kept on this way, its entire army would be destroyed before it broke out of the desert. Not many of the fallen remained in condition for reanimation.
That pleased Shih-ka’i.
Sure as he lived, he knew the master of the dead meant to march across the world. And once his armies broke out of the wasteland they would begin to swell. That explained why the thing was squandering manpower now. It anticipated no difficulty acquiring replacements.
The enemy infantry came on in such numbers that the demons, under constant attack from above, were swamped.
Shih-ka’i glanced back. The evacuation was going well. A man every ten seconds. Six a minute. Sixty every ten minutes. Three quarters of the force had gone. The others had formed round the portal. The maneuver was a tactical success already.
Give me a little luck, he thought. Let the portals remain useful a few minutes more. Let the stone thing persist in its profligate stupidity.
He did gloom about his minor exploratory thrust having become an embattled retreat which threatened to embroil the entire Eastern Army in an unexpected war. A big war. At a critical juncture in Shinsan’s history. He guessed there were fifty thousand enemy soldiers scattered around the desert. They seemed to have stopped coming from their place of hiding.
They did him a favor, did the foe’s infantry. They followed the example of the cavalry. They elected to surround him before making their attack. Shihka’i stepped into the portal just before their charge began. There was but one man behind him, his faithful Pan ku. They came over the dunes and found a whole lot of nothing. The Tervola had pulled their bolt hole in after them.
“What are they waiting for, Lord?” Tasi-feng asked. Four days had passed. The foe had not come west. Recon reports painted a portrait of confusion on a Brobdingnagian scale.
“I don’t know. Maybe we got our bluff in on them. Maybe they won’t come at all.”
“Do you think so, Lord?”
“Not really. But a daydream doesn’t hurt if you don’t put much faith in it. Anyway, let’s not be ungrateful for the gift of time.” Shih-ka’i had not expected to have time to move people into the mountains and get them dug in. He would not have given an opponent that edge.
He had gotten what he needed and more. The Seventeenth’s two field brigades were in place and waiting. Elements of the rest of Eastern Army were assembling at the fortress. If he were given another week, he thought, transfers would bring in enough people and thaumaturgic equipment to destroy thrice the number of zombies he had seen near the lonely mountain.
He had stripped his army of Tervola. The troops were coming overland under the command of their noncommissioned officers, with some units transferring in as opportunity arose. He was drawing Tervola and equipment from Northern Army, too, pushing his writ from Lord Kuo to its limit. He had ignored the predictable outrage of the Commander, Northern Army.
Northern Army was also on the march, but there was no way it could contribute troops here. Shih-ka’i had directed its three legions to assume a defensive posture along the west bank of the Tusghus, a broad river lying roughly midway between the Seventeenth’s old headquarters at Lioantung and the fortress on the edge of the desert.
The transfer streams were being pushed to their limits within Eastern Army’s territories. Too many miles lay between the fortress and even the closest of the legionary main forces.
“Hsu Shen,” Shih-ka’i called. “Evacuation report.”
The Tervola scuttled over. He had developed an obsequious manner since his rescue. “Finally getting some cooperation, Lord Ssu-ma. They believe our activity more than our word.” He was speaking of the native tribes. Shih-ka’i had ordered them evacuated beyond his third defensive line, the Tusghus. In the absence of orders to the contrary, he meant to make the foe pay for every mile of advance, and to deny him any opportunity to strengthen himself with local bodies.
His legion commanders believed he was overreacting. He argued that only overreaction had salvaged the earlier probe into the desert.
“Lord Chang. Have you found Lord Kuo?” Shih-ka’i desperately wanted to confer with his superior. He was considering asking permission to commandeer additional Tervola should the fortress be lost.
In private even Pan ku chided him for anticipating such an extremity.
Chang Sheng commanded the Twenty-Third, the legion stationed immediately south of the Seventeenth. He was another of the dozens of Tervola banished to Eastern Army. He had held a seat on the Council of Tervola before his rustication. He resented Lord Kuo, resented his fall, and resented serving under a pig-farmer’s son. He was not a happy man.
Before all that, though, he was a soldier of the Dread Empire. His army was at war. “No, Lord. He’s gone to ground. There isn’t a trace of him. I’d guess he doesn’t want to be found.”
“So be it. Get some sleep.” Chang Sheng had been searching for Lord Kuo more than thirty hours. “He’ll know we’re hunting him. He’ll have a reason for remaining silent. I’ll accept it as tacit approval of my request for permission to act in accordance with our needs.”
“Lord, I’d say it means the Matayangan situation is ready to blow up.”
“Probably so. Worse luck.”
Meng
Chiao strode in. He was supposed to be in the mountains. He saluted Lord Lun-yu. “The enemy are moving up now, Lord.”
“Be there in a few minutes. Their strength?”
“Thirty thousand plus, Lord. All infantry.”
Tasi-feng glanced at Lord Ssu-ma. Shih-ka’i kept his mouth shut. He had assigned the mountain operation to Tasi-feng and the Seventeenth. He had assumed the larger task of directing the movements of the army. He could not run out and check the disposition of every century. He nodded at Tasi-feng.
Lord Lun-yu asked, “Are the men clear on the rules? Injured to transfer immediately. Enemy casualties to transfer if portal time is available. To be dismembered otherwise. We have ten to fifteen minutes to incapacitate a body before shock terminates and it can be animated again.”
“They’ve been advised, Lord.”
“Good. Remind them not to turn their backs on enemies who are down. They might get up again.”
Shih-ka’i smiled into his mask. He wasn’t the only mother hen.
“As you command, Lord.” Meng Chiao departed.
Tasi-feng asked Shih-ka’i, “Will you be coming through, Lord?”
“Later, maybe. Just for a minute, to get an idea of their strength and tactics. I’ll be too busy here to interfere much.”
Tasi-feng bowed slightly. “I’d better double-check my signals with the batteries before I leave.”
“Go easy on the shafts if you can.” Shih-ka’i had been able to gather just forty-nine. Tasi-feng had explained that most of the thaumaturgic arsenal had been transferred to Southern Army.
“I intend to, Lord.”
“And watch the flyers. The air is our weak flank.”
“Yes, Lord.” Tasi-feng bowed slightly and departed before Shih-ka’i could fuss any more.
I’m as antsy as an old maid, Shih-ka’i thought. Let be, Ssu-ma. These are good men. They have millennia of experience between them. Field experience. Their soldiers are the best. If they can’t stop this army of the dead, it can’t be stopped.
Why was he so terribly nervous?
Because of the dragon riders? The autopsy hadn’t told him anything good. They were nine feet tall. They were immensely strong. They were partially immune to attack by the Power. In all probability, in life, they had been smart, quick, and deadly, and had wielded the Power in their own right. A demand upon the libraries of Shinsan had produced no knowledge of any such creature having existed within the era of reliable historical records.