by P D Ceanneir
Morden was dead.
He died only a few seconds after the third crossbow bolt took him in the back. Unfortunately, he would not have managed to survive the transportation through the Drift, the process of dematerialising and re-materialising was fatal to a mere mortal.
Yet he had completed his task.
The six Havant Guards clutched their heads in pain as Havoc’s voice, speaking the words of Skrol, issued out of the shiny Lobe Stone and activated the Earth Orrinn attached to it. It tipped upright onto its thicker end, spun on its axis, sending up dust and concrete chips from the flagstones. A spider web of cracks etched out from the Orrinn getting bigger with every second until slight tremors vibrated under the feet of the guards.
The Orrinn spun faster, a blur of brown and grey. The ground shifted upwards and the cracks split into wider craters. Eventually the Earth Orrinn’s increasing build-up of elemental energy unleashed a massive earthquake that shook the ground violently.
The whole of the west side of the citadel lurched upward and the ground rippled in a series of waves that looked like leaping ocean tsunami. Buildings rose and cracked as they were shaken one way, then the next. Inside the houses of the west quarter furniture landed upside-down, windows shattered, foundations cracked under the strain and some houses toppled into ruin, roof and all. Havoc had concentrated on unleashing the shockwave through the west side of the citadel and preserve the eastern districts that were the most populated, but the seismic waves sent homes tumbling into streets that were closest to the epicentre. Fissures opened up, gouts of black earth spewed and gushed, finally to fall crashing against the broken ground. Vents of steam shot along the cracks as they ripped their way towards the western fringe of the citadel, through the botanic gardens and onto the common parkland that sat on the outskirts of the city. Trees shook and toppled to the ground, their mighty roots pulled from the earth.
Finally, the earthquake hit its target, the outer walls of the citadel. The shaking loosened the mortar in the brickwork; the lurching sent a multitude of cracks throughout its structure and shattered the deep foundations. Then the opening of the fissures underneath caused them to fall. The inner and outer walls of the western flank fell under the cataclysmic onslaught of earth shattering violence; seven of the tall archery towers fell forward onto the grassland and fragmented when they struck the ground and filled the moat.
In all, a three mile devastated line of rubble and dust on the west side was all that remained of Sonora’s once impregnable walls that had stood on the western side.
Havoc stopped chanting Skrol. The roar of triumph from the Rogun Army soared over the last rumbles of the dying earthquake and clouds of dust settled. The way into Sonora, the last domain of the Brethac Ziggurat, loomed before them, and when the king unsheathed his sword, they charged.
Cinnibar was lucky enough to be out in the open with some of her Havant guards and priestesses, while walking the winding path through the olive grove from the Delthioum to the Havant Temple, when the earthquake struck. She and her followers were sent sprawling as the ground lurched upwards, shaking masonry and the roof slates from the closest building. The shaking ground toppled garden sculptures and shifted the irrigation channels so water flooded around the grove; she remained curled into a ball until the shockwaves subsided.
Soaked through from the water and shocked at what she had just witnessed, Cinnibar felt the urgency of the moment and ran to the Havant Temple as fast as she could.
The Rogun Army scaled the collapsed walls even before the dust had settled. The rugged terrain of masonry was a hindrance and the long thin line of soldiers became ragged as men looked for easier ways to get over the tons of rubble. Havoc ran with Tia and Soneros Ri beside him. Bleudwed and Little Kith, with a small detachment of Raiders, followed close behind. They found a way through one of the archery towers where the lower section remained intact and they only had to climb about twelve feet of its walls when they noticed a doorway at its base on the opposite side. They entered the citadel somewhere near it’s main entrance. In the distance, the Delthioum still stood, although a row of pillars on its western side had collapsed and the domed roof had fallen into the auditorium. Shattered glass covered the roads, piercing screams of the dying and injured filled the air. The king’s party ran on. No one opposed them.
The same could not be said for the Red Duke’s men as they cleared the summit of the rubble on the far western flank. It took a gallingly long time to negotiate the tall piles of stone and the Rogun Army were scattered, their formation ragged, and with wide gaps in its centre when they finally managed to run clear of the walls. On the other side, they met a surprisingly large amount of the enemy. Fortunately, for the Havant Guards, their barrack buildings on the west side of the citadel were of timber and they fared the earthquake better than the rigid stone. They mustered quickly using the time it took for the Roguns to scale the walls as an advantage to get into formation and plan the defence of the citadel.
The Red Duke commanded the far western wing of the Roguns and Carras Knights, his staggered formation of only a few hundred men ran straight into a thousand purple armoured Havants with crossbows.
The arrows strafed into the knights and Rogun spearmen as they charged. Lord Rett took one in the left arm and one in his right leg, but he roared for his men to run the enemy down which was exactly what they did. A ragged force of two hundred cut through the crossbowmen only to find a thick line of Havant infantry in their path.
On the rubble behind Lord Rett’s men the Eternals, under Whyteman’s command, used the height that the collapsed walls gave them to aid the duke and sent a volley into the enemy foot soldiers just before the thin line of Carras Knight crashed into them. A furious battle then ensued.
It was the first time in all the years of campaigning that the Raiders outnumbered the enemy. The Havant Guard only had four thousand soldiers to hold off the attackers. Any good officer of the guards would use the loose formations of the Roguns to their advantage by pushing through Lord Rett’s men and attacking the rest from the rear. However, the Havants were low in numbers but could work better in a solid formation. Unfortunately, their best officer took an arrow in the throat, shot from Whyteman’s bow, the other two thousand strung themselves out in a long line and waited for the Roguns to attack rather than run to confront them. As a result, the veteran soldiers of the Raiders on the eastern flank hacked through them and worked their way down the line.
Foxe and Mactan’s men in the Rogun centre had merged as they entered the parkland; far on the other side of the park, they could hear the sounds of battle.
‘That’s the duke’s men,’ said Mactan, pointing to the sound of clashing steel. His Dark Company had taken cover near some fallen oak trees to avoid the arrows from a small detachment of Sonoran Militia that had appeared from the north side of the parkland.
‘We’ll cover you with Spit Guns, I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this lot,’ Mactan said and shook Foxe’s hand before they parted.
‘See you in the Halls of the Heroes,’ said Foxe with a grin.
‘Have plenty of ale waiting then, I may be thirsty after this.’
They parted as Mactan’s men shot at the militia to keep their heads down so Foxe and his company could run to the west unmolested.
Sir Linth was the first to see the great dragon as she glided over the plain.
His wounded shoulder meant he could not fight or fire an arrow. Therefore, he commanded a detachment to watch over the wounded near the baggage carts and protected the Rogun rear from any attacks from those who had deserted the citadel during the night. Furran, still in some pain from his lost hand, commanded the reserve force and Rogun Cavalry that was even now moving into the eastern section of the broken walls of Sonora to support the invasion.
Linth need not have worried about any attacks from the plain; the curse that the Blacksword had put on those within the citadel had struck fear into the hearts of those who had left the safet
y of the walled city the night before. Besides, Dolment and his Ifor Lancers now scouted the land for many miles and any small army would think twice about crossing their patrol route.
Linth cheered as Ciriana circled over the ruined city for several minutes and then watched her descend onto the chaos below.
A handful of purple-armoured Havant Guards were smacked off their feet by a huge gust of wind summoned by the Red Duke. They went careering into another mass of guards that charged towards the Roguns.
Lord Rett had taken many slashes and cuts to his armour. He felt weak and his men were dying in piles around him. Although Selnour hacked and killed dozens in his path, he knew he was too deep in the enemy formation, whose number had somehow become larger since they climbed through the breached walls. Around him lay a circle of dead Havants, some killed by Selnour, others by the swan-feathered arrows of the Eternals. He was looking for a way out of the encirclement when the enemy rear lurched as a new threat smashed into them from the east.
To the duke’s relief, Foxe and his three hundred crashed through the larger group of Havants and upset the balance of the battle. The enemy broke into small groups and fell back. Yet, Foxe realised that enemy crossbowmen were still everywhere taking down his men. He screamed orders for his Raiders to break off and kill the bowmen while he and a handful of others cut their way into the press of bodies to get to the duke.
It took time, but the enemy finally ran. Foxe found Lord Rett leaning against his sword, his armour filled with arrows and cuts, but he still stood, gasping deeply.
‘You took your bloody time!’ he croaked, mouth dry and pale from the loss of blood.
‘I knew you would have everything under control, your grace,’ said Foxe with a worried smile. The duke looked badly hurt, even for a semi-immortal Rawn the wounds looked ghastly.
Lord Rett laughed, and then stopped when he heard the hoof beats drumming on the ground in the distance and getting louder. Havant Cavalry, about two hundred, galloped towards them. Foxe and his men were out in the open, they had no time to turn and run. He gave the order to form his men up to stop the charge.
Chapter Thirty Six
The Dragon and the Daemon
T
ia knew the many shortcuts through the Citadel, but most of these were blocked by rubble. Therefore, they went through dilapidated houses of the east quarter wherever they could, or used the Rawn Arts to move brick and rafters in order to get into the next street, which took time. Eventually, they found themselves on the edge of the olive grove that formed part of the temple gardens.
The Havant Temple had sustained some superficial damage and all of the many rows of windows on its three-storeyed structure had shattered. The massive columns that flanked the doors now bent and hung at an angle ready to fall, and the doors themselves were hanging by their hinges. The sloped roof on the west side was gone, collapsed into the lower rooms whose walls now lay in the gravel yard that encircled the outside of the temple. The whole building looked lopsided, like a house of Karsh cards ready to topple.
They ran through the waterlogged grove only to find a small detachment of Havant Guards in their way. Havoc and Soneros Ri rushed them first, allowing Tia and Bleudwed a free run to reach the entrance. Little Kith and his men charged in, letting the king and the Ri free to follow the girls as they climbed through the broken opening into the temple.
Little Kith swung his axe with lethal strokes, roaring at the top of his lungs as he became drenched in enemy blood. He and his men made short work of the guards, but as they ran to follow the king through the main entrance the cracked columns flanking the doorway finally collapsed, bringing down most of the wall above it. When the dust cleared, he could see that the way was blocked and he grunted in annoyance.
The entrance’s collapse caused dust to billow down the wide hallway as it followed Havoc, Lord Sonora and the girls into the building. They coughed it out of their lungs and waited for it to settle.
‘Where do we go now?’ Havoc asked Tia urgently.
‘We go through the inner courtyard and gardens. The crypt rooms are at the rear,’ she replied. The ancient founders of Sonora had built the temple around an old set of tombs, which in turn had a flower garden on top of it, the gardens led to the oldest part of the temple, the crypt rooms, which was through a large archway beyond the fringes of the verdant flower garden. It was, Tia had explained to them, the Havant Order’s most sacred part of the temple and the ecclesiastical heart of the Derma Ken religion.
The trio ran through a wide corridor. Wreckage littered the floor, furniture, vases, pictures, and smashed busts. Part of the roof had caved in on one of the larger reception rooms and soot covered the wooden floorboards in front of a cracked chimney. There were sounds of stress fractures popping and creaking within the walls around them, minute cracks etched their way along the ceiling as they ran.
‘This place is not going to stay up for long,’ informed Soneros Ri. Just as he finished that sentence the ceiling ripped open and fell. The Ri was in front of the group with the king at his side, he gripped Havoc around the waist and pulled him clear of the falling plaster and timber. They rolled away as tons of debris fell around them.
Tia saw the ceiling crack just in time, and stopped the countess from running into the wreckage. However, the weight of the upper rooms hitting the floorboards caused it to collapse under them and they both fell through to the next level, about a dozen feet or so. When they recovered Tia saw she was in the upper part of the wine cellar, she heard the king calling their names with a note of concern in his voice.
‘We’re fine,’ Tia shouted back at the pile of debris above her. Bleudwed was coughing and pulling off large sheets of plaster and timber boards from around her body so they could get out of the rubble.
‘Are you alright?’ Tia asked her.
‘Been better,’ was the countess’s reply. He face was a mask of white dust and she had a slight scar on her temple.
Tia yelled up to the king. ‘Keep going along the corridor until you find larger doors to the garden’s bridge. We’ll meet you there.’
Havoc and Lord Soneros ran on. They found the door and unbolted it. The gardens were below them, large and lush with trees and flowers. The sun beat down through an opening in the glass roof, now most of the panes were broken, and the temple rooms encased it in a wide square. It was warm here, the glass roof of the temple acted as a sort of greenhouse for the various exotic plants below. A small courtyard and stables lay at the back of the gardens.
A partly collapsed wooden bridge was their only route over the garden to the next mezzanine level and stairs to ground floor, but at this moment, the other side was teaming with Havant soldiers with crossbows.
‘Ah, damn!’ said Soneros Ri and held up his hand to turn the flight of approaching arrows into fragments, which sailed past them both harmlessly in the form of a dust cloud.
Tia and Bleudwed found their way through the narrow corridor of the cellar and out into a wide parlour, which led into the garden patio. Five of the Havant Guards were guarding the archway to the crypt rooms when Tia and the countess came into view as they ran through the garden.
‘Arcun! I forgot that the temple grounds were guarded day and night!’ cursed Tia
The Havants raised their crossbows and fired.
Havoc jumped, crossing the missing section of the bridge to clear the sixty-foot gap in one leap, before taking down two soldiers when he landed with well-timed kicks. He was on his feet in a split second and swinging SinDex with deadly precision. Lord Soneros landed next to him and both Rawns cut down the Havant Guards that defended the far end of the wooden bridge.
Tia saw the crossbow bolts zip through the air towards them and she quickly stepped out in front of Bleudwed. She used the Wind Element to deflect them away, but she was not quick enough, while some missed her, one took Bleudwed in the left arm, and the last three struck Tia, two in the chest and one in her stomach. She stumbled forward, extracting her swo
rd while the crossbowmen wound back their bow cords and she screamed as she rushed forward, quickly cutting down two of the guards while they were preoccupied in loading their contraptions. One of their number discarded his crossbow, pulled out a heavy war mallet from his belt loop and struck her a serious blow on her head, cracking the back of her skull. She slumped to the ground with a loud groan.
Bleudwed rushed forwards, shouting. She used her Spit Gun to kill the mallet wielder and the last two guards with direct shots to their heads as she neared the group. She scrambled on the ground when she reached Tia, fearing the worst, and nearly cried out when she saw the black bolts in her body and the blood flowing onto the ground from the dent in her head.
‘By the gods! Tia heal, please heal!’ cried the countess.
‘Too late,’ groaned the girl in her arms. She shivered and sighed in shock, ‘not enough strength…to heal.’
‘You were very brave. You saved my life, why did you do that for me?’ said Bleudwed as her tears ran down her face and mingled with Tia’s blood.
‘I...did not do it...for you,’ said Tia faintly, ‘I...did it for...Him.’ her body slumped as her last breath left her lungs.