The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle

by H. O. Charles

  needed to watch a proper war happen before they took part in one.

  His mind turned to the battle itself. No convincing had been required in getting the men to agree to fight Hirrah. There had been a longstanding disagreement with that country, and justly so. Hirrahan raiders regularly torched the borders, looting and pillaging as they wished. They frequently boycotted Calidellian traders or blockaded their own. And now they had thought it wise to place a claim on the western province of Gorena. The army was headed for Torfens, where another nine-thousand nonprofessional fighters would be waiting to further expand their ranks. Silar had not led quite so many men before, so this would be quite a learning experience for him, or so the other lieutenants had said.

  It was another six hours before they reached the open city of Torfens. It had no defensive walls or towers to speak of, and only a wide ditch protected its circumference. The hired men had gathered in a rambling camp on the outskirts, some tents waving the green and black hawk banner of Calidell above them. Silar ordered his men to set about making their own camping lines - organised ones. Badly aligned tents were a poor show, and they tended to have guy ropes that tripped everyone up. He also made sure his camp would be next to Beodrin’s. Artemi could not reveal her role in front of the wives and children, but she would be spending a great deal of time around Beodrin’s camp, picking up orders and learning of tactics. She was not guarded well enough for Silar’s liking. Yes, there was an entire army

  around her and she was not bad at fighting either, but if another eisiel came for her... The lieutenant bit off a chunk of bread from the supply he’d brought.

  He felt the presence of someone tall behind him, and turned. “Morghiad.” He gave a nod to the man.

  The captain grunted, but lost no time in getting to the point. “I can’t find Artemi and my time is limited. Will you locate her and bring her to the meeting later?”

  Silar nodded, concealing his enthusiasm.

  “Good. I’ll see you there.” The dark man strode off to complete his many other duties.

  Silar threw on his cloak, stuffed the rest of the bread into his mouth, and made his way

  to where the wives and children were settling themselves. One of the soldiers would finish setting up his tent before he returned. That was one of the nicer things about rank. When he walked through the first group of women, he immediately felt inadequate. He did like their attentions, but the coy smiles were nothing in comparison to the crowds Morghiad had drawn two days before. The captain had only been bathing in a lake, and halfthe females in bloody Calidell had turned out to watch the spectacle. The captain tended to keep to his tent now, which was far better-advised.

  Silar’s dark blue eyes scanned the multicoloured tents for a flash of red hair, and did not find one. A few children ran around the beginnings of a camp fire, pretending to invoke some wielder flames. Silar could not help but

  smile to himself. The soldiers had not been able to tell their own families about Artemi, but already their changing attitudes had affected their children. When King Acher was gone, perhaps in another few centuries, Morghiad would almost certainly invite wielders back to the country. If he lived long enough, that was. Captains of the Calidellian army could usually expect a hundred years of life if they were sensible. The kahr was not always sensible.

  A glint of fast-moving purple caught the corner of his eye. Artemi had been wearing one of her new riding dresses, coincidentally in purple. He followed it behind a large tent. She was there, hair covered in a grey shawl and looking somewhat sheepish.

  “Avoiding me again, Artemi?” he said.

  She compressed her lips and looked to the side. The woman was utterly unaware of her effervescence.

  Silar folded his arms. “Well, you’ll be happy to hear I’m not pursuing you for sport. Morghiad has asked that you attend tonight’s meeting, though what role he intends you to performI do not know.”

  The woman appeared to relax a little. She dropped the shawl, revealing the golden red hair beneath, and the evening sun brought it aflame. He longed to touch her hair when it did that, and often wondered if he would feel any heat from it. “Alright then,” was all she said. She followed him back into the melee of women, children and noise.

  They walked in silence back to Silar’s tent, where he collected some important maps and rosters. When he re-emerged from inside,

  she tried to say something, but faltered. He gave her an encouraging smile, but it didn’t work with the desired effect. Instead she

  clamped her mouth shut and looked away.

  “What is wrong with you, girl?”

  She kicked gently at the ground with one foot before returning her gaze to him. “You know we can’t be... you know,” she whispered.

  This was not something he wanted to discuss. At all. “Yes, Artemi.”

  “Then why do you keep...” She sighed before continuing, “Perhaps I am imagining it. Tell me if I am. Why do I feel as if you look at me? A lot.”

  “Because I do. And because you are beautiful. Fool woman.”

  Her eyes widened at that. And then she blushed and looked to the ground.

  Silar pulled his documents together and frowned. “There’s nothing to be done about it. Now come with me and we can see what the lord-captain has to say.”

  The pair made their way to the largest tent in the centre of the camp, with its hawk flag waving above and guards scattered about. Morghiad was pacing about outside with a reassuringly expressionless face. He looked up when they arrived, but continued his pacing in earnest.

  When Beodrin, Beetan and Luna joined the group the kahr motioned them inside. Four men in black and green already sat on cushions along one side. They were the new kanaala recruits Morghiad had found in the Calidellian countryside, brought in to replace

  the two who had died some months earlier. Silar was not entirely sure what their attitude was to Artemi, but the captain appeared comfortable with their proximity to her. As far as Silar could tell, all but one of the men were under forty. He seated himselfnext to Artemi, who was carefully arranging her skirts and not looking at anyone. Rahake, Tortrix and Baculo stamped into the tent with Jarynd and Passerid. Finally the last of the lieutenants, Hunsar and Eupith, strode in with jolly smiles. Pavon had been left to mind Cadra, though he sorely would have wished to be there with them. Morghiad announced the meeting had opened by unravelling several of the maps Silar had brought with him. The kahr added a few of his own to the increasingly large composite. “As you are well-aware,” he began, “we will

  enter the province of Gorena tomorrow. Reports are that the Hirrahan force remains in a single unit, located somewhere near here.” He pointed to the hilly region, north of the provincial capital. “It should take us another day to reach them, so I propose doing two things: one, following tonight’s camp, we do not stop before we reach them; and two, we leave the families in the safety of this region.” He pointed to some valley woodland, just off the main road. “As usual, we will take half of the supply wagons with us and they, along with the runners...” He looked at Artemi. “...will be located halfa mile from any battle that occurs.” The other men nodded in agreement. Pressing straight for the Hirrahans would prevent them from having as much time to prepare. It would also mean his men would get their fight before

  the tension grew tiring.

  Their captain continued, “As for the specifics, I understand that they number fifteen thousand. A third of these will be hired sword hands or new recruits from the locality. We do outnumber them slightly, but it is not something that will guarantee our victory. We must assume that they have situated themselves on higher ground and that they will have with them a number of wielders. With the exception of Beodrin and myself, I would like all kanaala to remain at the back of our advances and devote their attentions primarily to thwarting any wielder attack. Artemi, you are to stay out of this battle. I will only call you into it if we get into some serious trouble.”

  She hardly looked
content with his decision, but nodded her head in acceptance

  anyway. Morghiad didn’t want to lose his secret weapon any more than Silar, and there would be no gain in scarring that pretty face of hers.

  “Good,” the green-eyed man said. “Upon reaching them, I want us to break into three divisions, three battalions in each. Of course, if the terrain prevents it we may have to limit ourselves to two divisions. Luna, you know this area well, do you not?”

  An average-build man with hair so pale it was nearly white, Luna had a pink face that conveyed almost as little emotion as Morghiad’s did. “Aye. Grew up there, I did. I believe they will have headed for the Hill of Monuments. It’s the broadest and highest of that area. And it has some good roads to the towns. If they are there however, you should

  know that one side of that hill is sheer cliffs.”

  Morghiad rubbed at his stubble. “How high and how wide. Which side?”

  Luna lowered his light brown eyes to the maps. “North side, I recall. They are too high to scale. Probably a hundred feet. As for width, I’m not sure. Probably a good quarter of the hill’s circumference.”

  “Very well then. If they are there then I propose we stick to two divisions. When we advance they will likely try to run through the gap between our divisions. Both battalions either side of this gap must be ready to close in on them. Silar and Eupith, I want you both to direct the clinch. Do any of you have any questions so far?”

  Luna jumped in first. “I’ve just remembered something else. The ground on the

  west is rocky and tough to traverse with horses. It can only be crossed on foot, and slowly at that.”

  Morghiad remained unfazed. “We’ll have to assess when we get there, but they will have just as much trouble crossing it as we will. Perhaps we could set up a line of guards along our side of it. With bowmen.”

  Eupith chimed in with his happy, singsong like voice. “That lot like to launch hails of arrow fire before they fight up close. They’re not so good as we are with their swords, but they’ll try to pick us off before we’ve reached them.”

  “I already have a plan for that. Artemi and I will create a shield against them before we advance. Their kanaala will pick it apart eventually, but it should serve to protect us for

  a while.” The kahr leant back on his hands.

  Tortrix was next to speak. “How many bows do we have, captain?”

  “Five hundred of our own men, one thousand among the hired.” Morghiad looked around at the group. “Any more questions?” His eyes settled on Artemi. “I can see you want to say something. What is it?”

  She looked around nervously and then cleared her throat. “I was just wondering...” She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “...would it not be better for the men at the back of your divisions to fan round and fill the end of the gap? Then it’ll look like a temptingly weak point, but be stronger.”

  Rahake scoffed and Baculo, hitherto silent, guffawed loudly. Morghiad gave them a fierce look. “Get over your pride, men. You

  are jealous because you did not think of it first.” He turned back to Artemi. “You may be right. We shall make our decision when the scouts return tomorrow.”

  Silar watched Artemi out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the meeting. She remained entirely silent and moved very little. He also noted that Morghiad glanced at her from time to time, no doubt drinking her beauty in like the milk of Achellon. None of the other attendees appeared to notice it; even Artemi was oblivious to the attention she received.

  Once they all had a chance to speak and a glass or two of tanno wine had been shared, Morghiad brought the meeting to a close. Silar remained seated on his cushion as the others departed, but when the tent was empty he stood and put a hand on his friend’s

  shoulder. “I have known you for longer than most, Morghiad. Tell me honestly, are you in love with Artemi?”

  The captain looked surprised by his question initially, but brought his features under control. “I can see why you might think that. I find her beautiful, as many men seem to. And I enjoy her company. I have no feelings for her beyond that.”

  Silar was shocked. Was the man utterly deluded? Or had he pushed his emotions so far into a corner of his brain that even he couldn’t see them anymore? “Are you sure?”

  “WellI don’t forget what it is I’m supposed to be doing or where I am every time I see her, and nor do I stare after her as you do. Just because I am kanaala doesn’t mean I have to sleep with every wielder I meet.” The

  kahr set about rolling up the maps on the floor.

  Silar watched on for a moment. “My admiration for her is no secret. Just... make sure she is safe.” He picked up his own papers and left the tent, feeling just as irritated as he had earlier.

  The cool evening sun had favoured their side, illuminating the Hill of Monuments from the south with sharp outlines. Artemi watched in silence as thousands of men lined up

  in two trapezium-shaped formations, their sparse plates of black armour glinting softly in the daylight. At the top of the hill she could make out the dark cloud of people that comprised the Hirrahans. Already they had sent a few volleys of wielder fireballs across, but Morghiad and the others had unravelled each of them before they had come close. He sat next to her now, on his massive warhorse and looking as grim as he ever did. She was delighted, and somewhat embarrassed, at his gift of the bay mare she now rode. He said he had chosen it because it was a good runner and well-trained for close-fighting, but she could not help feeling it was a touch flashy. At least she had finally been allowed to dress in her uniform and ride with the other men. She had missed their company on the journey. Artemi turned to

  face the supply wagons, now entirely manned by medics and the less-experienced soldiers. She would soon be among them, fetching things and helping the casualties.

  The kahr moved his horse closer to hers. “It is time.” Nervousness trickled down her spine; it was his responsibility to get the shield right, but the two of them would glow like the sun to any enemy wielders on the hill. Morghiad nodded to the other kanaala to let them know he was about to begin, and took her hand. The routine was so familiar to her now, and she could have closed her eyes and identified each kanaala by a single touch. Morghiad was very different from the others, of course, strength aside. And the quality of his control felt different, too. She felt less like she was having her organs forcibly pulled out, and

  more like she was being given a warm embrace by the stony man. She had tried to hug him for real twice: once when she had first met him, and again upon receiving the horse. Both times he had pushed her away as if she smelled utterly terrible. He was a peculiar man, indeed.

  She patted Glacier, named after her benefactor’s character, on the neck as The Blazes filled her body. Horses seemed to be able to feel it quite keenly, and the mare stamped her hooves to prove it.

  Artemi looked to man who held her power. Two sword hilts jutted above his shoulders and innumerable other blades were strapped at his waist, thighs and calves. He was only lightly armoured with the filigree shoulder and breast plates, which were embossed with black and green vine-like patterns. He

  appeared to be drawing in halfas much as either of them could hold, and the light in his eyes intensified considerably. Each time the fires coursed through her veins, Artemi still felt as if she might melt into the ground; kahr, swords, horses and all. There was also the matter of the curious attraction she experienced when wielding with him. Other than the pleasure Blaze Energy gave her, there was really no reason why she should find herself appreciating him in... that way. The other women’s interest in him baffled her completely, and they did not have a wielding excuse. How could they care for a stone of a man whose personality was unknown to them and unnerving to her?

  Her captain began to work the Energy into a broad, flat sheet of pure power. It pulsed at a steady rate, seeming to glitter from a hidden light source. The sheet grew outwards over the heads of the soldiers and upw
ards, into the sky. A rain of fire headed their way, but she could sense that the kanaala were doing something that she could not see directly. The fire rain dissolved to nothing above their heads as Morghiad twisted the shield energy round the edges of the two divisions, added several layers of complexity and then released her hand.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to give them a taste of their own medicine?” Artemi breathed, confident that she could blast the lot of them to ash.

  The kahr did not look at her. “You must save your energy... and mine. Now get back to the wagons. I’ll find you after the battle

  is finished.” He kicked Tyshar off to a gallop, and tore down the slope to the front of his men. Artemi longed to join them. It was ridiculous that she had been held back here, and already her heart ached with concern for her friends’ lives. “Blazes protect you all,” she whispered, and turned to the supply carts.

  The battle raged into the night, wielder fire lighting up the dark sky in waves and plumes of smoke filling the air. Artemi could hear the battle cries from where she was, and often the sound of steel swords singing against more steel. There had been many casualties brought to her and the medics. They cleaned the poison from the soldiers’ wounds as best they could, but sometimes there was too much, and several of the men took on the grey skin of pinhatar - the poison death. One man died as