He stood and looked over the top. Through the shattered shards of broken stockade he could see Rahain soldiers charging towards the gap, armed with crossbows and swords. He pulled himself out of the trench, and Killian did the same, getting up to stand by his side.
‘Squad!’ Killop cried. ‘To me!’
He strode towards the gap in the wall, stepping over large fragments of timber scattered across the forest floor, Killian a pace behind. They passed by three dead Kell. Caelia and Kyle lay side by side, inseparable in death as in life. Both were facedown on the ground, arms spread wide, with big ugly shards of wood standing upright out of their punctured backs. Connie had been hit by the boulder, and thrown into a broken heap by the side of the hut. A couple of others were injured. Clara was grasping her left leg, which had been broken above the ankle. A thumb-length of bone poked out white and red from her shin. She squirmed on the ground, her face clenched in an angry refusal to scream. Kelly had a deep cut all the way down her face and neck, from right eyebrow to collarbone, that would scar, if she was lucky. Kallie put her hand up to her sister’s cheek to wipe away some of the blood, but Kelly shrugged her off, instead notching an arrow to her longbow. The blood from her forehead was getting into her right eye, which was starting to swell shut.
‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I aim with my left.’
Conal let out a cry and ran to Connie’s body. He knelt by her, clutched her hands in his, and started to weep with abandon, keening and wailing.
Shit, Killop thought. Three dead and three incapacitated.
‘You two,’ he pointed at Calum and Colm, ‘over to the right. And you two,’ he pointed to Kelly and Kallie, ‘the left. Cover our flanks.’
That left Killian, Kylon and himself, who were, with the exception of Keira, the three best hand-to-hand fighters in the squad. Killian had his battleaxe, which he had carried throughout the campaign in Northern Kell, as well as on countless raids before that. His face was covered in small cuts from the blast, and the dark green leather armour over his chest was ragged. Kylon had discarded his shield in favour of carrying two weapons, a sword in his right hand, an iron tipped spear in his left. Where Killop and Killian used their strength and weight to fight, he used his agility and speed, wheeling and spinning as if he were at a village dance.
The three formed a line and approached the gap. Already arrows were flying past their heads from behind to strike the surging mass of Rahain, who were now emerging over the top of the inner ditch in front of the wall. Arrows were also coming from squads further up and down the line, and though dozens fell, there seemed to be more taking their place with every breath. Into the breach they poured, amid a hail of arrows, to meet the three Kell warriors.
Killop braced his right foot against a rock behind him, and tucked his left shoulder into his shield, his sword held low to his right. Killian locked shields on his left, while Kylon was a pace to his right. The first Rahain smashed into them, their momentum almost rolling the Kell over as they pushed and surged. Killop swung his sword. He could hardly miss, hacking a downwards stroke deep into the neck of the soldier in front of him. He grunted and strained against the weight now pressing on his shield, parrying a lunge from a Rahain rushing towards him from his right, before cutting the soldier’s arm off at the elbow with his reverse swing. He dizzied as he pushed with all his strength and just as his knees were about to give, he felt a weight behind him, and a warrior move into the space on his right, his shield slotting in to overlap with his own.
‘Need some help, big man?’ It was Kendrie from down the wall, arrived with his squad to assist.
Several more Kell lent their weight to those already behind him, and their line firmed up. Killop put his head down to sheath his longsword, and drew the long knife he had strapped to his thigh.
‘Skewer the bastards!’ he cried, stabbing low through the gap between the shields. The lines heaved against each other, but the Rahain were pushing uphill, and the Kell front held. Time blurred in Killop’s mind, as he shoved and stabbed, shoved and stabbed, not seeing who he was striking, but knowing from the cries of pain, and the blood streaming from his blade, that he was hitting something. His legs and back were in agony, his right arm tiring, and his left numb, when strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him away from the front line. All around Kell were retreating and diving for cover, and panic and despair almost struck him, until he saw the reason.
His sister stood by the campfire, which had been relit. It was burning fiercely, as Conal fed and tended it.
Keira had her left hand held high, and a river of bright flame rose from the campfire to swirl and dance around her upraised fingers and palm. She caught Killop’s gaze for an instant, and the look in her eyes made him dive to the ground, his arms over his head.
The air above him whooshed, and the roasting from it singed the hair on the back of his neck. The screaming started, and in the noise amid the raging fire Killop dug his head down deep into the wet moss. Burn them sister, burn them all.
He felt boots run past him, and looked up. The Kell line was reforming, hoisting their shields as they climbed among the piles of scorched and blackened Rahain.
‘Killop,’ Killian cried. ‘Your sister.’
He pulled himself to his feet, and helped Killian pick up Keira’s limp body. The squad’s archers formed a line to shield them, and they stumbled back through the trees, into the forested area between the two forward lines.
They lay Keira down by a fallen branch, and crouched by her, as the battle raged around them.
‘Keep her here,’ Killop said to Killian. ‘Watch her.’
Another massive boulder flew past, crashing into a tree twenty paces from them.
‘Those fucking machines,’ Kelly cried, her arms raised to cover her head.
‘Careen’s busy,’ Calum pointed. They turned, as a ball of fire rose from the centre of the Kell front.
‘They’re breaking through,’ Killian grunted.
Killop stood. ‘You stay here,’ he said to Killian. The rest of the squad got to their feet and followed him as he rushed back to the front. Chaos reigned everywhere, as Rahain soldiers flooded through the numerous gaps that had been ripped through the wall. Lines of Kell warriors faced them, but the pressure of the enemy numbers was pushing them back.
The trees behind the front palisade line broke the fighting up, and the two sides mingled in a bloody clash. Killop’s squad found itself with their backs to a hut, the sword warriors in front, the longbow archers standing behind. Clara was sitting on the steps of the hut, her bloody leg bandaged, a bow in her hands. Waves of Rahain came at them, and boulders continued to smash through the forest, swallowing up combatants from both sides. Flames arced and flew through the sky, the largest coming from the centre of the line, where the high mage was based. Running battles tore between the trees, and arrows filled the air.
Killop was exhausted. The Rahain company in front of them were forming up for another charge, ready to rush the hut where the squad stood.
‘I’m out of arrows,’ Kallie cried.
‘Me too,’ said her sister Kelly.
‘Come on, ya bastards,’ Killop shouted as the Rahain began their charge.
They had covered five yards before a great burst of flame enveloped them from the right, devouring the entire company in seconds. Killop and the squad shielded their faces from the heat, as the Rahain soldiers fell before them, consumed by the inferno.
Killian appeared a moment later, carrying Keira over his shoulder.
‘The chief’s opened up the second line,’ he said. ‘The whole reserve is being brought through.’ He laid Keira down. Over his shoulder Killop saw a raid leader approach, leading dozens of fresh Kell warriors.
‘You lot take ten minutes,’ she shouted to him as they passed, heading towards the fighting. ‘Then get yer arses back to the front.’
The summer’s light lasted long into the evening, and when darkness began to fall, the area between the f
irst and second lines remained a scene of carnage. The ground was churned up, many of the great pines had been smashed by boulders, and the slain lay heaped in piles. Scattered fires lit the battlefield, illuminating the hordes of Rahain swarming over the broken palisade wall into the killing zone. Well-stocked Kell archers held the parapet walls of the second line, out of range of the Rahain throwing machines. They riddled any Rahain unit that got close enough, while the main body of Kell warriors held out in the grisly no man’s land between the two lines.
Killop’s squad had been rotated in and out of the fighting more times than he could remember. He had tried to keep them close to Keira, but the lulls and surges in the fighting were unpredictable, and as the squad rested by the remains of a shattered palisade wall, he realised he had not seen her in a while.
Kylon was keeping watch as Killop checked the tired and aching warriors in his squad. Clara had been sent back behind the lines, but everyone now carried injuries of their own. Several of the younger recruits looked close to collapse.
A plume of fire rose from the centre of the lines, followed by another, and Killop caught a glimpse of Keira running towards them.
‘Over here,’ he shouted, standing and waving his arms.
‘Wee brother,’ she cried, ‘Careen’s in trouble. Lizards have got round the back of him, and cut him off. We have to help.’
‘Killian, with me,’ he said. ‘The rest of you, stay here. Calum, you’re in charge.’
He turned and joined his sister, who was already racing back towards the fires.
Killian ran with him, and they drew level with Keira as they ran into the back of a Rahain unit. Killop raised his aching arm, and lunged down, separating a Rahain soldier from his head. Crossbows were turned towards them, as Rahain reinforcements flooded the area surrounding the high mage.
Killop fell to one knee, his shield raised, as bolts flew past. Keira dived down beside him. Killian leapt in front of her, taking a bolt to his chest. He dropped his shattered shield and lifted his battle axe, roaring. The Rahain reloaded and fired again, sending a lethal hail of bolts whistling through the air. Killop crouched low to the mossy ground, covering Keira, bolts slamming into his shield.
He looked down at his sister.
‘I need a minute,’ she gasped. She raised her fingers, scanning around for the nearest fire.
‘Spark me,’ she said.
Killop frowned. His shield was starting to break apart under the barrage as he raised his hand. Before he could summon his power, there was a blinding explosion, brighter and louder than anything he had ever felt before, and they were blown sideways by the wave of energy.
Killop flew into a tree, and slid to the ground. Dazed, he opened his eyes.
Everything was burning. He staggered to his feet, his eyes searching for his sister amid the flames, then heard a roar of noise from behind him. Turning, he had a second to see a great mass of Rahain soldiers sweeping towards him, dropping their swords and shields in panic, as the inferno ripped through their ranks. The crowd surged through where Killop was standing, lifting him off his feet and bearing him away.
Fear had possessed the Rahain, and thousands were fleeing the battlefield, pouring back through the front palisade wall. Bodies were crushed and squeezed into a dense mass as they ran, and Killop was unable to resist the pressure, like being caught in the powerful current of a river.
The crowd’s momentum carried them across the broken palisade, and Killop was flung against a stretch of timber wall. He slipped, unable to keep his footing, and as the masses surged past he fell to the ground. He rolled himself into a tight ball, as the boots of thousands of fleeing Rahain soldiers pounded round and over him. He closed his eyes.
Chapter 20
Minding the Dead
Northern Pass, Kell – 16th Day, First Third Summer 503
Something furry rubbed past Killop’s nose. He was lying face up on a mattress, and as his aching body stirred, he felt a weight on his chest shift, and sharp claws pierced through bandages into his skin.
‘Ya bastard!’ he cried, sitting up. Bollock was sent sprawling away from him, landing on its rear end by the side of the bed. Killop rubbed the fresh scratches on his upper abdomen, as Bollock strolled off, then turned and started to lick his testicles.
‘Killop,’ a voice said. ‘You’re awake.’
He turned to see Kallie sitting beside him, her long red hair pulled back from her face. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in a long while, but was smiling. She was still wearing her leather and plate armour, now cracked, dented and smeared in blood and dirt. Her longbow was resting against the bed next to her.
He gazed around, confused, trying to remember what had happened. The two of them were alone in a small dark hut. It was lit by a few flickering candles, and a campfire outside provided more light through the gaps in the entrance, which was blocked off with a large hanging curtain. Over several of the beds lay scattered possessions, some of which he knew belonged to his squad.
‘Kallie,’ he gasped. It came out as a croaked whisper, his tongue dry and swollen. She reached over, held a cup to his lips, and he took a sip of cool cider.
He let out a long breath. Where was his sister?
He looked down at the bandages covering his chest, now dotted red from where Bollock had used his claws to gain purchase. From his laboured breathing he sensed a few ribs had been broken, and his entire body ached as if he had been crushed. He lay back down, grunting in pain.
He glanced over at Kallie.
‘What do you want to know?’ she said. ‘Keira’s fine, she’s with Clewydd, who’s high mage now, after Careen was killed.’
‘Careen’s dead?’ His sister was alive.
She nodded and moved closer, her hands resting on the bed an inch from his waist. He realised he had been stripped, cleaned and redressed in an old pair of loose leggings, but other than that and the bandages, he was naked. He felt self conscious at the thought it might have been Kallie who had ministered to him, even though the whole squad had bathed together and had seen every bit there was to see.
‘The rest of the squad?’ he asked.
‘What do you remember?’
‘I was with Keira, and there was a great explosion. The Rahain fled, and I was caught up in the stampede.’
‘We found you early this morning, as soon as the lizards had gone. You were at the bottom of a big ditch by the palisade. We thought you were dead. When we dragged you out, you looked dead. Keira was going mental. Then I saw you were breathing, so we got you to the infirmary, where they patched you up. The squad have been assigned this new hut, so we carried you here when they were done with you.’
‘How many are left?’
‘Apart from you and Keira, six,’ she said. ‘Me and Kelly. Kylon, Conal and Calum. And Clara.’
‘What happened to Killian? And Colm?’
‘Killian took so many crossbow bolts he was more wood than man by the end. Colm was caught up in the same lizard stampede as you. We found his body impaled in one of our own pits.’
‘So Calum’s lost both his brothers.’
Kallie nodded.
‘We got pasted,’ Killop said, after an awkward silence.
‘We won,’ she said, shrugging.
He rolled over onto his left elbow. ‘At what price?’
‘Chief said we killed six thousand of the bastards, against three hundred of our own dead.’
Killop took a breath. Six thousand? That was more than he could imagine, having never seen anything like six thousand Kell assembled together in the same place at once. How was it possible to kill so many? And three hundred Kell? That was half their force.
‘We got many injured?’
‘Aye, another hundred or so.’
‘What about the Rahain? Are there prisoners or wounded still about?’
‘If there were any, there are none left now.’ She shrugged. ‘The biggest job is clearing up the bodies. Teams are out gathering and burning t
hem now. That’s what the rest of the squad are doing.’
‘How come you’re here?’
‘It was me that found you.’
He thought back to the first fight at the beginning of the battle, and remembered the continuous whistle of arrows flying past his left ear, each hitting its target. He had barely registered it at the time, but that had been her, keeping the Rahain from swamping him as he stood in the line. She had hit two out of every three that had approached him.
He looked at her again, his eyes widening. He took in her long red hair, oval face, brown eyes and pale skin. And, with surprise, saw she was beautiful. He was her squad leader, and had an almost allergic reaction to thinking about any of the squad’s female warriors in that way, an attitude that Keira had mercilessly taunted him for. She had no compunction about blurring the lines of authority, and he knew that she had enjoyed a brief fling with Calum a third before, and neither seemed any the worse for it.
‘Thanks,’ he said.
‘We went looking for you as soon as the lizards retreated, just as the sun was coming up.’
‘We fought all night?’
‘Aye, Killop, we did.’ She let out a long sigh, and bowed her head. ‘I think it was Careen that broke them in the end. According to Keira, he was so badly injured he knew he was going to die, so he used up all his energy in one almighty blast that tore a hole right through their centre, not to mention obliterating the forward gatehouse. After that they panicked, and ran. That’s when you and Colm were carried away by the mob. We couldn’t get to you.’
She started to cry, keeping her head down so he couldn’t see her face. He took her hand.
They stayed like that for several minutes. He lay back and closed his eyes, sensing nothing but the ache in his body, Kallie’s hand, and the soft sound of her tears. He may have even fallen asleep for a moment, but opened his eyes at the sound of his sister’s voice.
The Magelands Origins Page 27