by Pedro Urvi
“It’s working!” Ikai cried gleefully. “Aruma’s concoction works!”
The Men had killed God-Lords! There was hope!
“I’ll never speak ill of that old witch again!” Burdin said, and sank his sword in the barrel of the strange silvery substance. Ikai did the same with his own, together with his knife. Then he turned to his people and shouted: “Keep launching! Don’t stop!”
Another of the domes gave way and several thousand rebels froze alive, turned into statues of ice. The rebels launched another volley of silver arrows. The Lords strengthened their defenses, sending more Power to their solid spheres, and raised new ones around the existing ones to protect them from the attacks of Power. With defenses raised against both physical attacks and attacks by Power, nothing could touch them. But the God-Lords were wrong. The arrows reached them and once more penetrated the spheres to reach their targets. They fell amid screams of pain and rage, their slender golden bodies riddled by dozens of arrows. They died with terror and fathomless incredulity on their faces.
Ikai seized the opportunity. “Launch again! Quick! Come on!”
The arrows flew once more. But the surviving God-Lords fled, at the same time ordering the God-Warriors to attack and cover their retreat. The arrows reached the front lines of the Warriors, who were already running forward. The arrows struck their huge bodies, but they did not stop. Only those who were hit in the face, or else with many arrows, fell. The remainder charged, elemental lance in one hand, shield-gauntlet in the other.
Shouts of terror made Ikai look to his right. Another of the domes was falling. The ground was opening under a thousand men in an earthquake which was creating abysses, and into these the rebels were falling amid horrifying screams.
“Hell! We’ve got to finish off the Lords, or else their storms will wipe us out.”
Burdin pointed up at the sky. “The storms are getting less.” Where there had been ten before, now there was only one.
“When those who created them died, the storms died with them,” Ikai said. “But there are still enough to devastate us. Our allies aren’t going to hold out for much longer.” He indicated the nearest Child of Arutan, who was trying to keep up the protective dome at all costs.
Burdin gestured toward the God-Warriors, who were charging at incredible speed, sliding on cloaks of fire or ice. “They’re coming!”
“Get ready for the assault!” Ikai shouted as a new wave of arrows flew toward the attacking army in a short arc. This time they reached the front lines of the God-Warriors full on, causing many casualties. But they were already on top of the rebels.
The impact was awesome.
The Warriors struck the lines with such brutal strength that men and women were thrown into the air like rag dolls. The domes could not defend them from physical attacks, so the God-Warriors penetrated them and began to slaughter the rebels.
The second wave of God-Warriors reached them and leapt over their comrades, who were hacking at the front lines. They advanced in gigantic leaps, propelled by their elemental power to unthinkable heights, and fell in the midst of the Men. When they touched down they used their Power to cushion their fall, in the process creating an elemental explosion all around them. One landed near Burdin and everything around him burst into flames, killing a hundred rebels.
“Damn you!” Burdin yelled, and went for him.
God-Warriors of the House of Water attacked the group on the left, falling on them with explosions of ice as they touched the ground. The rebels around them froze to death or were pierced by missiles of solid ice produced by the explosions.
“Move away from them when they come down!” Ikai cried desperately. The Golden were falling from the heights like Gods of death on the mass of rebels, who were unable to move far enough away to be safe from the explosions.
The God-Warriors landed on the group to the right amid showers of pure rock, so that the rebels were crushed by stones and boulders. Chaos took over the men, who were being slaughtered.
While the remaining God-Warriors spread chaos among the rebels, the surviving God-Lords summoned a hundred of the Warriors for protection and retreated to the far end of the plain, near the edge of the northern forests where they had come from. Only one out of every ten had survived. They were regrouping, utterly baffled, trying to understand what could have happened.
Ikai saw the chance he had been waiting for, seized the horn and sounded it five times. At his signal, on the edge of the eastern forests there appeared fifty thousand warriors, approaching at full gallop on their piebald mounts.
“Go, Kyra!” he encouraged his sister from afar. This part of the plan was vital.
At the head of the charge rode Kyra, with Lone Wolf on her right and Swift Deer on her left. The remaining chiefs of the tribes of the People of the Steppes rode behind at the head of their warriors.
“For freedom!” she shouted.
“Death to the Gods!” shouted Lone Wolf.
When the God-Lords saw this new threat aimed directly at them, they sent a thousand God-Warriors to form a barrier to block its way.
“Today they’ll answer before the spirits of the prairies for their crimes!” shouted Swift Deer.
The braves of the steppes howled, yelled and shouted at the spirits with insane abandon as the thunder of thousands of hooves echoed across the plain like an earthquake.
The God-Lords fell back to the forests of the north to avoid facing the charge. They would kill the savages from a distance. They would not put themselves within shooting range of arrows or spears, least of all from a cavalry charge like that. As the riders neared the lines of God-Warriors, the latter began to launch elemental missiles against the advance. Javelins of ice and tridents of fire struck the forefront, driving off not only the riders of the front line but also several behind them. They were followed by devastating balls of fire and ice which exploded on impact into flames and shards of cutting ice.
Kyra urged her horse on. “Bastards!” she yelled.
Hurricane winds struck to her left, carrying several riders away through the air. She was forced to hold on to her horse with all her might so as not to fly off herself. Swift Deer nearly went with them. Ghosts of Ether reached the horses and attacked them so that the poor animals died of terror, bringing their riders down with them. A missile in the form of a huge rock brushed Lone Wolf’s head, and he shifted to one side to avoid it. The boulder fell further back and broke into hundreds of fragments, killing both riders and horses.
“Keep going! We’re there!” Kyra shouted, fifty paces from the enemy line.
The God-Warriors dug in their legs, raised shields and spears and formed a wall of elemental shields. An unmovable wall: they used their Power and part of the wall turned solid as rock: part ice wall, part barrier of fire, part a wall of winds.
The crash was horrendous.
Thousands of horses struck the wall with the full momentum of their charge as their riders released arrows and spears at the God-Warriors. There was a deafening noise, followed by terror. Horses and riders were thrown in the air by the brutal impact. Some were thrown back, unable to take evasive action, others were sent flying over the wall of God-Warriors and fell behind them, mostly already dead.
The golden wall withstood the first blows. Thousands fell trying to get over it. But a few did manage to have some effect and break it at several points. Kyra was one of those. Making use of her Power, she disarmed two God-Warriors and sent them flying backwards.
“Follow me!” she cried to her people when she saw the opening. Lone Wolf, Swift Deer and a hundred or so braves made their way through it. A little to their right another hundred warriors managed to penetrate the wall and kill a few Gods. The fight was now frantic.
Seeing the line breaking, the God-Lords got ready to act against Kyra and those others who had managed to get through. At the edge of the forest, behind the Lords, a pair of eyes was watching them. The Lord Leader of the House of Ether became aware of this and turn
ed to face those eyes which were watching him closely. Then another pair of eyes appeared beside the first, and then another pair, and yet another. A moment later a thousand more had appeared. The whole edge of the forest was filled with eyes; even the branches of the trees were full of them. Eyes that were staring at him with a single purpose: to kill him. And at that moment, the Golden Lord realized something was wrong. Deeply wrong. The first pair of eyes stepped forward out of the vegetation and appeared in front of the Golden.
It was Albana.
She raised her black daggers and cried: “Death to the Golden!”
There came a prolonged whistle from the forest. The God-Lords turned toward Albana at the same moment thousands of arrows flew from the forest. They strengthened their spheres with horror and panic on their faces. They had no time for anything else, for the arrows smeared with Aruma’s concoction penetrated their defenses and riddled them. They died with their eyes wide with disbelief.
Albana came to the side of the Lord Leader of the House of Ether, who had fallen from his carriage and lay writhing on the ground. The Golden stared wide-eyed at Albana.
“We never believed… it is impossible… you are no more than slaves…” he muttered, and died.
In the midst of the battle, the God-Warriors were unaware of what had happened behind them. Albana gave the order and fifty thousand warriors of the People of the Trees emerged, yelling like demons, from the forest where they had been hiding, to attack the rearguard of the God-Warriors: A thousand of them had to confront a hundred thousand rebels attacking them on two fronts.
Kyra fought like a demi-goddess at the head of the braves of the steppes. With the help of Lone Wolf and Swift Deer, she had killed several of the imposing God-Warriors and was preparing to face a giant from the House of Fire.
“I’m going to send you back to your lords,” she said.
Condescendingly and haughtily, the huge God-Warrior smiled.
Never, you slave, he said, and with a movement of his spear of fire he hurled a fiery javelin toward her. She sent Power to her translucent sphere. She was finding it easier and easier to use her Power; by now it was almost instinctive. The javelin struck the sphere and she felt the shock, but it failed to penetrate. The eyes of the Golden widened in surprise.
“Who are you calling a slave, Golden? I’m a free woman.”
The face of the God-Warrior hardened. I do not know what you are. You have Power, but I am going to kill you all the same, he said, and launched a ball of fire at her with a flick of his shield.
Kyra concentrated. She could not let it explode or else it would reach Lone Wolf and Swift Deer, who were beside her fighting another God-Warrior, stabbing him mercilessly with their weapons which had been soaked in Aruma’s concoction. Lone Wolf was concentrating on his torso while Swift Deer worked on his back. Another half-dozen warriors of the prairies were hanging from the enormous Golden’s legs and neck. She reached out her hand and focused on stopping the ball of fire. She had never tried anything like this, but if she did not manage to do something at once her friends would die. The missile reached her, but it was losing speed. A fraction of a second before it touched her sphere, it stopped. It stayed there hovering, spinning, before her eyes. “Gotcha!” She moved her hand and sent the ball back toward the God.
You wretched slave! the God-Warrior roared, and the ball exploded on top of him, together with several of his comrades. The Warrior had managed to protect himself with his shield, but his fellow warriors, taken by surprise, fell amid flames. The Braves of the Steppes hastened to finish them off.
“Did you like the taste of your own medicine? I have a lot more for you!”
No… it is not possible… only the most powerful among us can do… a thing like that.
“In that case I must be one of the most powerful,” Kyra said. She caught the Golden’s aura, focused on it, fixed it and lifted the giant by the neck. She held him suspended in midair.
It cannot be… you are a slave… he said. He was bleeding from the mouth.
“I can see you aren’t listening.”
The God-Warrior moved his fiery spear and attacked her with a bolt, but her sphere held. She raised the palm of her hand and froze the bolt, extinguishing it.
It is impossible… you are using the Power of Ether and of Water at the same time.
In fact Kyra herself had been surprised by this. She had just wanted to put out the fire. She did not know where the ice had come from. But she did not let on.
“Surprised by what a woman can do?” she said, and with a wave of her arm she sent an ice stake against the Golden. It pierced his chest from side to side.
Nooo….
“I told you I was a free woman. You should have listened to me.” She watched him die and let him fall to the ground. She did not know how she had managed it all, but it was getting easier for her all the time. And her Power was increasing.
She turned to the wall of God-Warriors, with the braves of the steppes dying against it. I have to help them, she thought, and went forward, hurling God-Warriors through the air, to break the wall.
Albana was leading the Green Men in the rearguard, with Ilia and her brother Pilap beside her. A God-Warrior of the House of Air blocked their way. He waved his spear and sent a zigzagging bolt of lightning against Albana, who used her disc and covered herself with a protective sphere. In response the God-Warrior sent a strong gust of wind which sent Ilia and Pilap flying. They landed violently about twenty paces away, but the sphere protected Albana.
Surprised to see that she had not been affected, the God-Warrior leapt into the sky amid a gust of wind. From above, he attacked her with an orb charged with the force of an electric storm. She saw it, emitting electric charges as it came, and moved away with a shadowy leap. The God saw her vanish into darkness and then reappear twenty paces further away. The orb exploded against the ground, electrocuting a dozen warriors of the Trees.
Albana swore silently. She could not rise above the ground and stay high above like the God-Warriors, but what she could do was make them come down so that they lost the advantage of height. She concentrated and used her Power before the Golden could attack again. With a muffled snap, a whip of intense black issued from her arm and wrapped itself around the ankle of the hovering God. With a tremendous tug she brought him crashing to the ground.
The God-Warrior rose to his feet, shaken by the blow, and she seized her opportunity. She gave another shadowy leap and appeared behind the Warrior, who was already recovering. With a simultaneous movement she drove her two daggers into each side of his thick neck. The Golden gave a grunt and attacked her with a gust of wind produced by his shield. She was hurled backwards and hit the ground hard. The impact left her breathless. The Golden took two steps toward her with the daggers buried in his neck. He stumbled and fell to his knees. She got to her feet, trying to get her breath back. The God-Warrior grunted again and fell face down on the grass, dead.
She recovered her daggers and ran to where Ilia and Pilap had fallen. They were bruised but alive. Ilia gestured to her right, where a God-Warrior was butchering a group of her rebels. She used her dark whip, and this time it coiled itself around the Golden’s neck. With a pull of her Power she made him fall backwards.
“Finish him off!” she ordered her people. Instantly Pilap and a dozen green-skinned warriors jumped onto the God and stabbed him to death.
“All at once! Attack all together!” she said, and turned to face the next God-Warrior with Ilia at her side.
Chapter 33
Adamis adjusted his war helmet. It was golden, as befitted a Lord. It covered his whole head, hiding his face behind a wide mirror visor in which a flame burned. The helmet visors of each house reflected the element they belonged to and hid the identity of the wearer. He was dressed in the armor of a Lord of the House of Fire, whom he had been forced to kill. The Lord and his escort had discovered him as he was crossing from the third to the second ring. Luckily the accident had occurr
ed in a little-guarded area and he had not been found out. He needed to take every possible precaution; he was alone and in the lion’s den. Were he to be challenged again, he would not live to tell the tale.
Feigning a confidence he did not feel, he walked over to the command post in the main dock of the second ring. His intention was to reach the first ring, and his father, but the bridges between the fifth and fourth rings and the second and first had been destroyed. To arrive by sea was impossible, since the enemy ships were rigidly blocking the access. He had looked for a portal to travel through, but it had proved useless. The portals were all taken and closely-watched.
He watched the frantic activity taking place along the whole ring. The House of Fire was alive with activity: troops and support personnel went from one end to the other in an incessant movement of Golden and Enforcers. The noise of the battle was growing progressively stronger as he headed to the inner side of the ring. He put his hand to his eyes and tried to make out his home, the first ring, in the distance, but a thick mist around it prevented any clear view of the buildings. What he was able to notice were numerous red flashes and explosions in the mist, which told him that the House of Fire was attacking the First Ring.
At the doors of the command post a giant warrior turned to the forces lined up on the docks. “Fire!” he ordered.
Adamis counted more than three thousand Warriors and fifty Lords deployed in that part of the ring. Countless Enforcers accompanied them, executing their masters’ orders. The Lords were sending devastating storms of fire and blazing missiles toward the First Ring. He calculated they would reach the docks and the first rows of buildings, but no further. The Power did not reach across such distances. To attack the inner ring and his Father’s royal palace they would have to land, either through a portal or by ship. Using the Portals was very dangerous in these circumstances, as the enemy would be expecting them on the other side. It made more sense to cross the canal that separated the two rings. The scene of the attack on the House of Water came to his mind.