by Tom Lloyd
Lynx woke at a shout. He wasn’t on duty but had gone to sleep just behind the guards, the warm presence of Kas pressed against his back. The pair of them were grabbing weapons in the same moment, casting around for the danger even before they could understand the words being used.
Suth’s voice came again from somewhere above them. The Knight of Tempest had climbed the oak tree, taking advantage of the height as well as staying clear of any roving horrors.
‘Something coming,’ she called in a quieter voice. Suth didn’t bother to point, she just aimed her gun north of their position. Lynx threw himself down behind the tree where four Cards were already stationed, searching for the threat.
‘Two, no three – closing in,’ Suth called. ‘Can’t see what they are.’
Lynx scanned the deep gloom. He could see absolutely nothing for a long while. Then he caught them, bulky shapes no taller than a hunting hound but far broader. A flattened shield of a back arced up at the rear, pushed up by powerful hind legs. Several sets of spindly forelimbs picked a careful path through the trees.
‘Got a shot?’ Anatin called. ‘Take it.’
Suth grunted and in the next second a crash rang out. The jagged white trail of a sparker lit up the night. As it struck, the creature reared up as though to embrace the lightning. A spray of hair-like antennae flared forward and the creature was momentarily illuminated in a blaze of light. Its skin burst into a rainbow of colours as the light seemed to be sucked into its body. The colours remained as an afterglow as the creatures scampered forward, more eager than before.
‘Darker,’ Toil announced.
She didn’t wait for a reply, just pulled the trigger. A dull crack rang around the trees. This time the creature’s protrusions flicked forward but nothing happened – the dark-magic shot slammed into its faintly gleaming head. It burst the head open amid a gout of grey dust and the body behind crumpled inwards. The massive rear legs kicked once then fell still as the dark magic consumed most of its body. Dust hung in the air above it, thrown up by the impact, then slowly faded away.
The other creatures faltered and stopped. Lynx had his gun trained on one, an earther loaded, but clearly the darker had confused them. Like golantha, these things fed on magic, but whatever twisted mix of energies Atieno put into the dark-bolts, it was anathema even to them. The Cards held fire, knowing to conserve ammunition on the battlefield.
To help whatever sort of consideration was going on in their bug brains, what was left of their pack-mate jerked and fell as the remaining dark magic consumed more. A small cloud of dust puffed up and that seemed to decide it for them. One flicker of antennae towards the Cards and they decided the taste on the wind wasn’t so enticing. First one backed hesitantly up then the other turned and fled. In seconds they were gone from view.
‘Nasty shit,’ Toil muttered, echoing his thoughts. ‘Glad we’re the ones who have it.’
‘I doubt we are the only ones,’ Atieno said.
‘Really?’
He nodded. ‘I expect their finest minds would be in their largest and most secure sanctuary. Dark magic isn’t a secret, just almost impossible to control. I’m stronger than most so the job is easier, but skill might make up the difference.’
Toil bit her lip and glanced at Anatin. The company commander looked thoughtful before shaking his head. ‘So far they ain’t used it in battle, unless they’ve kept it quiet somehow.’
‘They can’t have put it into mass production,’ Toil continued, seizing on his line of thinking. ‘Maybe they’ve got the skills but not the personnel to do it. Right now the magic’s more theory than anything else.’
‘If they’ve come up against something bigger’n those shield-things,’ Anatin replied, ‘theory will’ve been turned into practice pretty damn quick.’
‘But supplies are limited – even for us. Without a mage as strong as Atieno, we’re talking a handful at most.’
Anatin nodded. ‘So we keep it in our pants for as long as we can. When we whip it out, make sure it’s the right time for a surprise.’
‘And on that note,’ Toil said, making a face, ‘Back to sleep until dawn. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.’
Chapter 34
Fragments of sleep were all anyone managed. Once the grey of dawn started to fill the sky, Anatin ordered a fire lit. The smoke wouldn’t attract any creature and the breeze was now in their favour.
Those modest flames offered a scrap of warmth, half a mug of bitter red tea and a few slices of cured pork fried until dripping with fat. Not the ultimate trappings of civilisation, but close enough as far as Lynx was concerned. The rest of the company seemed to agree. Hard expressions softened, complaints went unspoken and Anatin didn’t even have to give the order to make ready. By the time the dawn had fully brightened and a few brief shafts of sunlight slashed the treetops, the Cards had set out.
Cutting east, they came to the edge of the forest, close enough to get a good view of what lay beyond. The kidney-shaped lake lay half a mile off, its ruffled silver surface marred by two broken stubs of jutting rock. On the near shore was a small village but it looked deserted now – unsurprisingly, given the advance force of the Sons of the Wind was close. Two hundred-man battalions had camped on a rise at the southern tip. The ground hid much of what was beyond. He couldn’t see where the main army was, but Lynx guessed they weren’t far behind.
There were Charneler cavalry on the far side of the lake, keeping a wary distance from the nearest Sons. Nothing else offered any indication of the defenders’ numbers. Both the hollowed-out lump that was Highkeep Sanctuary and the city on the far side of the valley could contain sizeable forces. They would have no idea where the enemy were until the Sons committed.
‘What now?’ someone asked, voicing the thoughts of half the company.
‘Push on through the forest and wait,’ Toil replied. ‘Until the fighting starts we can’t make our move, but we can get into position.’
‘In position for what exactly?’ Lynx asked.
‘Depends,’ was her helpful response. Toil pointed down at the western flank of the mountain base. ‘Look, there’s something there – an archway? Some sort of cavern? Maybe an entrance to the underground.’
‘At some point we’re going to have to take a prisoner,’ Anatin decided. ‘We don’t know the lie of the land here and we can’t risk guessing.’
‘We know where we want to go,’ Toil pointed out. ‘Look, the Torquen temple itself. There’s a path there, judging from the lines in the rock – too straight to be natural.’
On a shelf of land behind the uneven rocky peak of the sanctuary, stood the temple complex. It commanded an unparalleled view of the valley from beneath the overhang of the mountain, Insar’s Seat. Bathed in dawn’s light, the stone glowed pinkish-grey while the shadows were all the starker behind. The vast pillars behind the temple stood out, with shafts of darkness between them – surely the route to the charnel vaults themselves.
‘That’s a long climb, longer still with some bastards taking pot-shots at us. No thanks.’
‘That’s why we wait – let them fight. If the Charnelers have the advantage we’ll need to wait. If they don’t they’ll need every man and woman who can hold a gun up in the line, not watching their rear.’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to let the Sons win the battle?’ Anatin asked.
‘Assuming they do?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t trust ’em, do you?’
‘Fuck no, but what other plan could they have?’
‘I don’t know,’ Toil said, ‘but until I can answer that properly, I don’t mean to stick my neck out.’
‘We’ll be getting a fight soon enough anyway,’ Anatin said. ‘Unless the Charnelers have something up their sleeve, we won’t be alone out here.’
‘Agreed,’ Toil said. ‘Kas, we need a spot for an ambush.’
They travelled through the forest for another hour. The ground levelled out and the trees grew taller – less exposed to the fury of
winter storms. Toil went on ahead with Kas but before long the Cards caught them up at the edge of a small stream.
‘We wait here,’ Toil announced. ‘The cover thins out beyond this.’
‘Any sign of Charnelers?’
She shook her head. ‘Doubt they’re able to just pull straight out and get marching. We may have a wait.’
‘They wait too long, the Sons of the Wind will roll right over them!’
‘And that’s why we’re waiting here – to catch their first reaction.’
Lynx stepped forward, shaking his head. ‘Not here,’ he said as all eyes turned his way. ‘Bad idea.’
Toil snorted. ‘Care to explain?’
‘This is a good position to hold and defend,’ he said, gesturing at the river and the ground beyond it. ‘Which is fine if we just want to hold them off, but chances are we’ll be outnumbered and we don’t just want to slow them up.’
‘Do you have a suggestion to go with that attitude?’ she asked.
Lynx sighed. ‘Yeah. We do it the Hanese way.’
Lynx lay on his belly and peered through the leaves, waiting for a sight of the enemy. He could hear them moving, quiet as they were being. There was distant gunfire from the valley beyond, but almost no sound here except for the breeze through the leaves. The rich scent of earth and fallen leaves filled his nose. Dead fronds of bracken were giving way to a crop of stringy plants he didn’t recognise. They covered much of this stretch of forest, but gave off a rotten scent that was unpleasantly akin to the lethal rattle-grass of the south. So much so they had made Deern take up position first, just to be sure it was safe.
Some sort of beetle the size of a mouse, spike-backed and dark green, lumbered through the undergrowth ahead of Lynx. He carefully shifted his mage-gun so the muzzle was out of the beetle’s path but it immediately changed direction and headed for the gun. He moved it again and the beetle stubbornly followed so Lynx ended up pinning it with the barrel. The beetle struggled for a moment then flexed its back and scraped the spines down the barrel. A stinking, sticky residue was left behind. Grimacing, Lynx batted the thing to his right, sending the beetle off towards Aben instead.
The big man grinned at Lynx as he shuffled it on to the next person, the bewildered beetle still stolidly making for the nearest gun barrel. Lynx looked away, not wanting to see what happened once it reached Toil. Up ahead, the Charnelers continued working their way around a broad stretch of more open ground. He couldn’t tell how many they were, but from the noise there had to be a full battalion – about a hundred soldiers in black and white uniforms with the red collar of Torquen elite dragoons.
Finally, he caught a glimpse of one through the undergrowth. He’d picked this spot so it gave him a long, albeit constrained, view. The Charnelers were fifty yards off – at the edge of burner range. They would be working their way towards a choke-point of undergrowth, where the open ground narrowed into a likely ambush point.
He watched them circle the exposed section, taking a longer route to ensure they weren’t caught in cross-fire. Lynx knew he could have set the ambush there, but the Cards were likely to be outnumbered. Driving off the enemy, even inflicting heavy losses, might not be enough. It was agonising to wait, but Lynx had seen this tactic work before. They moved on once they’d seen the faster path was safe, unable to waste time checking every patch of ground they passed. Lynx counted the steps in his head, imagining how long it would take for them to cover the ground he needed. Eventually, he whispered the order and rose to a crouch – half-hidden behind the screen of weeds.
Gun already raised, he scanned left to right – checking for a rear group. There was none, just two companies of dragoons working their way through the forest. Flashes of red and white on their uniforms made them easy to pick out. He took aim as the rest of the Cards rose the next moment.
One of the rear troops flinched as he saw them. He was halfway through a shout when Lynx shot the man – the crack of his icer ringing out around the still forest. The others fired in the next moment, a volley of icers that zipped into the loose formation of Charnelers. A pair of sparkers tore through the gloom after that. Only one struck the nearest soldier but it was enough to add to the panic. A tree between them burst open under the impact of an earther.
Lynx saw several dragoons fall from the initial volley. Given the surprise attack, he didn’t bother changing his position before loading and firing again. That shot went wide, but their efforts were enough to send the Charnelers reeling. He heard garbled shouts from the second group and glimpsed them rushing forward.
‘Shift!’ Anatin ordered. The Cards shuffled right, some still shooting while the others scuttled around behind them to find new positions.
Covering fire started to come from the further group. Icers zipped through the leaves, white flashes that hung in the air for a ghostly second before fading to nothing. Lynx ran at a crouch, heading into the dark shadow of a twisted, half-dead pine before he loaded and fired again.
The nearer group of Charnelers had retreated. They were trained to get out of range of the nastier mage-cartridges while the other company kept the Cards busy. Lynx popped his head up and fired an icer at the escaping troops. He couldn’t see if he hit anyone as four shots immediately rang out in response. Two went wide, two slammed into the tree he was hiding behind and made all those with him instinctively cringe.
‘How’s this plan working out for you?’ yelled Toil as more icers tore through the air.
‘Fine!’ he shouted back, dropping to the ground. ‘Come on!’
Lynx crawled on his belly as some of the Cards continued to return fire and five followed him on the ground, blindly making their way towards the enemy. He had to trust they would be warned of anyone advancing, but right now the Charnelers would be taking stock. The two companies had converged on a tangle of ancient trees, a good place to hunker down after taking casualties. He’d spotted it on the way here. There was space for a good fifty to hide there if they packed in close – something you’d do if you’d just been ambushed and needed cover.
‘Now we just need to wait,’ he said to Toil as he felt her close beside him.
‘What did you call this again?’
‘Translated it means “fruit harvest”,’ he hissed back, shuffling onwards with his gun across the crook of his elbows.
‘Oddly cheery for your lot,’ she replied. ‘You Hanese are weird.’
Lynx didn’t comment. Weird or not, they were also effective at slaughter.
When he could glimpse the trees in question, he stopped, hearing the bursts of icers start to intensify. The sound seemed to build and rattle through his skull as, second after second, more Charnelers fired on the Cards. They would be sending a group forward soon, ready to unleash their trademark burners, and that would leave Lynx exposed out in the open unless—
The roar of an earther came from up ahead. Lynx winced, half-anticipating the cataclysmic impact smashing into his body, but then came the sound of breaking branches and tearing wood. He barely had time to hold his breath as a second, louder, snapping boom rang out. The furious crackle of lightning filled the air. Then came another explosion – then another and another. In moments, the sounds were indistinguishable from each other.
Light blazed, stuttering and furious, through the twilight of the trees. Flames leaped and perhaps there were screams there. The lightning drowned it all out in a cacophony of rage. For a few seconds Lynx held position, frozen and terrified by the monstrous noise up close. He’d known they were coming – two spark-grenades, known as cracklers, had been wedged in the trees for Suth’s earther to ‘harvest’ – but that meant nothing when you were so close to such brutality.
Finally, the sounds died down. Lynx forced himself up and saw a handful of Charnelers just twenty yards away, guns abandoned as they reeled from the explosions. The knot of trees were almost blasted into nothingness. Half the cartridge cases in the company had been set off by those cracklers and added to the explosions. Fi
re swamped the right-hand side of what remained, scorched and torn bodies had been hurled from the nearer side.
Even the assault party that had escaped the trees were down. Lynx saw them floundering in the dirt and fired a burner their way. He wasn’t the only one. Toil and the others with him added their guns to the volley. A savage concoction of fire and lightning smashed into the dazed soldiers and they fell screaming.
He stared at the shattered remains of the Charneler battalion. There were cries coming from the trees, sounds so weak they could have been the sobs of a child. The rest of Suth’s group appeared and they advanced on the burning trees, firing icers into anything that moved. A few had been on the far side and thrown clear of the trees. There was a little gunfire exchanged but from what he could see they were woozy and shocked. Suth herself led the charge, picking her targets with ease.
Lynx followed Toil numbly as she went to finish off the rest, his body acting independently as he did the same. There was a small mercy in this last act. The survivors were horribly injured. But still he hated himself – both for doing this in full knowledge of what it meant and the fact he was good at it. There was a dark part of his soul that craved the terror and the release of violence. He had never managed to settle in more peaceful surroundings, never found how to live a normal life or hold a job to be proud of.
When it was over, he found himself turning north – in the direction of the mountain somewhere behind the trees. He still hoped that one day he might do more than break things, destroy people, but this was not that day.
Chapter 35
Lynx watched Safir and Layir carry the body to a clearing where dead wood had been laid like a bed. Tears streaked the younger man’s face. Brellis, the Thirteen of Blood, had caught a stray icer sometime during the fight. No one had seen her go down. Only when Toil had done the count had anyone noticed the raven-haired woman’s absence.