Warriors of the Veil

by Jill Williamson

  Princess Saria stiffened. “How far out are they?” she asked.

  “They came out of the forest on the western bank of the river. They’ve not yet crossed the water, but those beasts of theirs move three times as fast as ours. At the rate they’re moving, they’ll reach the back of the castle in a quarter of an hour. Our men are armed and ready.”

  Jazlyn swept past the guard. “Take me to the back of the castle at once,” she told the man. “I want to get them in sight as soon as possible.”

  Saria chased after Jazlyn. “Empress, please. I insist you leave the giants to us.”

  Jazlyn swung around. “That I cannot do, Princess. To stand by and watch the Jiir-Yeke destroy this stronghold and its people is to fail the agreement I signed with Ulrik. There is more at stake than you know.”

  “I’m sorry Ulrik insists on making himself a nuisance, but neither he nor you have any authority in New Sarikar.”

  “Must I use my magic on you, Princess? I will if you make me.”

  “I wash my hands of this,” Saria said, lifting her arms as she stalked away.

  Jazlyn turned her gaze on the quavering soldier. “Well?” she snapped. “Take me to the back of the castle. Now!”

  The man quickly led Jazlyn and Qoatch down a twist of hallways and out into a snow-covered garden. To Qoatch’s relief, the gowzal on his shoulder took flight and perched on the roof of a small portico. One of the creatures on Jazlyn’s shoulders flew away to join it. The black birds were stark against the snow-covered roof.

  It was equally easy to spot the giants riding over the snow on the opposite side of the river—a line of more than twenty, at first glance.

  “Ziyph, go and count them,” Jazlyn said, and the bird on her shoulder took flight.

  Jazlyn climbed the portico. “Have your soldiers take up residence along the back of the fortress in case any giants get past us,” she told the guard who had escorted them outside. “Qoatch and I have killed them before. We are not likely to need any assistance, but one cannot be too careful when giants are involved.”

  “Arman be with you, Empress,” the guard said, then scurried away.

  “I need the help of no god,” Jazlyn muttered, breath misting from her lips. “Especially not Arman, who Princess Saria informs me will be offended by my assistance.”

  “What can I do, Great Lady?” Qoatch asked.

  “Draw your sword and keep me safe. I would like to kill as many as possible before I am discovered.” She lifted her hands, gave a short whistle, and closed her eyes. Cherem and Izar fluttered down to her wrists, each claiming an arm.

  “Bahraq, halam!”

  The gowzals transformed into two bolts of lightning, shot away, and struck two giants. Thunder cracked in the sky overhead as the giants fell from their mounts, seemingly dead. One of the horses went down as well, while the other reared up on its hind legs. This caused the back half of the giant force to slow and become disoriented. Most of the giants were looking up at the sky.

  “Do you see the birds?” Jazlyn asked.

  Qoatch searched and found them circling over the giants. “There!” He pointed.

  “Bahraq, halam!” Jazlyn yelled, and again lightning zapped two giants from their mounts and made the sky crack with thunder. This time both horses reared and ran off, slowing the approach even further.

  Ziyph fluttered to perch on Jazlyn shoulder. “He counted twenty-five giants,” she said.

  “Four fewer now,” Qoatch said.

  The remaining giants slowed before the river. The first five steered their horses down into the frigid water.

  Jazlyn took Ziyph onto her fingers. “Bahraq, halam!” The bird shot away as the others had and struck the giant in the middle of the five.

  Water exploded, and energy zipped across the water’s surface in all directions, knocking all five horses and riders beneath the waves. The sky boomed so loudly the sound deafened Qoatch and made the ground tremble. As the giants’ bodies bobbed to the surface, the ripples from the blast continued to circle out, reaching both sides of the river and lapping against the shore, though Qoatch couldn’t hear it. Jazlyn was speaking to him as well, but the sound was muffled, like someone speaking underwater.

  Across the river, what was left of the Jiir-Yeke force turned their horses back from the water’s edge and retreated toward the trees.

  Jazlyn’s hands shot forward, and lightning again hit the ground across the river. This time three giants fell and two of the horses. The resulting thunder cracked in the sky, a dull rumbling in Qoatch’s pounding ears.

  By the time Jazlyn’s gowzals had resumed their original form again, the giants had reached the distant tree line. A faint chorus of cheering pulled Qoatch’s gaze to the castle and the soldiers there, who were jumping and embracing one another at the sight of the retreating giants. Princess Saria watched from a balcony above, frowning with her arms folded, though the people beside her seemed amazed.

  Of course they were. His Great Lady had saved them all.

  Qoatch’s ears popped then, like coming down from a great height. Sound flooded back in: people cheering, the waves licking the shore, the faint squawk of a gowzal.

  All three birds returned to Jazlyn. The first two perched on her shoulders. The third floundered and landed near her feet. With the same command of “Bahraq, halam!” Jazlyn sent the first two out again, this time into the forest itself. Trees cracked, splitting from their bases and falling into those beside them. The sky thundered, and in the forest a flame sprouted up along with the distant screams of giants.

  Jazlyn turned to Qoatch. “Ulrik did me a favor when he compelled me to fight these giants alone with my new magic. Do you know that?”

  “How so?” Qoatch asked.

  “I did not know all that the new magic was capable of. It is true that the magic is not as great as with the old ahvenrood. I cannot heal myself or fly or compel. But wielding this magic in battle makes me nearly invincible.”

  “You were incredible, as always, Great Lady,” Qoatch said.

  A squawk pulled his gaze to their feet, where the third gowzal lay floundering and had brushed the snow in streaks of blood.

  Qoatch reached for the creature, which nipped at his fingers. “Careful, now,” he said. “Let me help you.”

  It’s too late, eunuch. This from Izar. The red-and-yellow shadir had left the bird and taken its regular form of a snake with the head of a cat.

  “What happened?” Jazlyn demanded.

  The magic was too much for the creature, Izar said. Its body couldn’t handle it.

  “We’ll just have to find you a new bird,” Jazlyn said. “Good thing it lasted until I had defeated the giants.”

  Qoatch climbed the steps to stand beside his Great Lady. It was then that he caught sight of a second horde of giants charging toward them from the east. “Great Lady,” he yelled. “Look out!”

  Trevn

  Rogedoth had magic.

  For so long Trevn had avoided the man because he feared his magic. When Lady Islah had revealed Rogedoth was a malleant, Trevn had reveled in that truth, perhaps relied too much upon it. Now he was right back where he started.

  No matter. Arman was with them. That hadn’t changed.

  Rogedoth’s army had stopped some two hundred paces back from the river, well within range of Trevn’s archers. They were dressed in black or red, and Trevn caught sight of a half dozen red, black, and gold banners depicting the head of Barthos.

  Trevn compared the men. Overall, he had superior fighters. Most of his soldiers had been training since childhood, and while Rogedoth had a handful of those, the majority of his were compelled Puru with little or no training. Trevn had some untrained men, as well—volunteer farmers and tradesmen, eager to end the oppression once and for all. They’d come armed with pikes, staves, and poleaxes, forester axes, or weighted mallets. General Ensley had spread them out among the infantry so as not to have any weak places in the ranks. The giants helping them he had placed o
n the right, where they could ride their oversized horses without trampling any Kinsman soldiers.

  Trevn rode along the front line of the infantry, behind the mounted cavalry. “Arman is with us,” he told the men. “Take courage! The God is on our side. Today we banish evil from Er’Rets.” He repeated these phrases until he had circled the archers from behind and rode across the face of the cavalry. Most of the men cheered. However, one man yelled, “But he has magic!”

  “So do I,” Trevn said. “Arman gave me this magic as a means of standing against the mantics we brought to this land. That is what I will do here today. What we will do. Defeat their dark magic once and for all.”

  But Rogedoth’s army did not advance.

  Trevn voiced Mielle. “How fares Armanguard?”

  “Shanek DanSâr and Grayson have not returned. We arrested many of his soldiers. Captain Veralla says there still may be some in the lower levels.”

  “Good. Pray for Grayson’s safety. Have Father Mathal make an offering.”

  “I’ll do so at once. I pray for you, as well.”

  “Pray for all of us, Mielle. This day will be long, and many will die, but hopefully Arman will give us victory over our enemy once and for all.”

  Trevn closed the connection with Mielle and sat quietly on his horse. Things were different between them. Voicing her now was like voicing anyone else. He could sense her emotions, even know her thoughts, but she could never again know his—not like the soul-binding had allowed. The thought brought a pang of loss, yet it occurred to him that he’d fallen in love with Mielle long before any magic had knit their hearts and minds. He smiled then, thankful to have things back to normal—to the way Arman had ordained them. All would be well. Once this day had passed.

  Arman, protect us from those who seek to destroy us. Go before us and grant us victory.

  A short while later, Princess Saria voiced Trevn to let him know that the Jiir-Yeke giants had attacked and Empress Jazlyn was still fighting them.

  “She is absolutely terrifying—shot lightning down from the sky.”

  Inolah’s reports had been similar. “How is Father Wolbair taking it?” Trevn asked.

  “He has locked himself in the temple and is praying.”

  Praying was all any of them could do at the moment. The energy of Trevn’s men had grown lax. The cavalry broke formation in turns, pacing their mounts up and down the line to keep the animals warm.

  Trevn rode to General Ensley’s side. “Why do they wait?”

  “Why do you?” the general asked.

  Trevn scowled across the river. “I won’t make our men wade through that water. We have the fort. We can renew our supplies. They’ll have to act at some point.”

  Yet the day wore on.

  “Your Highness!” Sir Keshton rode up to Trevn and his men. “Chieftess Charlon has arrived with fifty-some Magosians. She says they have come to fight alongside us.”

  Sands. “Where are they?”

  “We’ve stopped them by the fort. She insists on talking with you.”

  Trevn steered his mount out of the line. “I’ll speak with her.” Saria might be helpless against the giants, but Ulagan had brought Moul Rog and his men, and Trevn also had the Veil warriors. He could not allow a mantic to fight for Armania.

  The Magosians were all on horseback, clustered outside the palisade gate, surrounded by Armanian soldiers.

  “Make way for the king!” Nietz called as he led the way through the parting soldiers.

  Trevn rode behind him, with Cadoc on his right and Novan on his left. Magosians steered their mounts aside, and soon Trevn reached the center where the Chieftess was waiting.

  “Chieftess Charlon,” Trevn said. “What brings you to my border house?”

  “Magosia wishes to fight, Your Highness,” she said. “Fight alongside Armania.”

  “I well understand the desire, Chieftess,” Trevn said. “But it presents a problem for me. The realm of Armania follows the decrees of the One God, Arman. His Holy Book specifically states that Arman’s people are to have nothing to do with shadir, who are enemies to Arman.”

  “You told me this before,” she said. “I am the only one who can do magic. My men and maidens will fight with shard clubs.”

  “I welcome your warriors, Chieftess,” Trevn said, “if they will join my infantry and follow the commands given them, but I will not condone shadir magic on my side of this battle.”

  Charlon’s lip curled. “I meant no offense in my offer, Your Highness. We ride!” She kicked her horse and steered it out of the cluster. The Magosians followed, several shooting Trevn dark looks as they went.

  Clearly Trevn had offended the woman. That could not be helped. He had more important matters to attend to. He did not wait to see them go, but turned his horse and began cantering back toward his army. It might be time to bait Rogedoth by sending Armania’s herald across with an offer of peace to insult his pride.

  Hinck

  The second wave of Tace Edekk’s army charged. Hinck and his bowmen fired arrows at the enemy, picking them off one by one. Hinck aimed at a giant and was just about to release his arrow when the man reined his horse and stopped. The rest of the charge parted around him. Hinck instead took out one of the Kinsman men.

  He drew another arrow and saw that a second giant had stopped by the first, clogging the enemy advance. One punched the other, who fell off his horse. That man jumped up and dragged his attacker off the horse and into the snow. Three more giants stopped and dismounted.

  “We’ve broken the compulsion on several giants in this charge,” Oli said.

  “I see that,” Hinck bloodvoiced. “Well done.” Then to his men. “Focus on the charge! Show mercy to those who’ve stopped advancing.”

  He forced his attention away from the skirmish and fired upon a Kinsman traitor. As his arrow struck true, he set another to his bow. With the giants slowly falling apart, their counterattack efforts were far more effective. By the time the enemy charge reached the Sarikarian infantry, the few remaining were quickly defeated.

  The giants who’d left the charge were now engaged in a brawl that would make any pirate proud. There were at least a dozen involved.

  “Oli? How close is Edekk’s final group?” Hinck bloodvoiced.

  “Last I saw, they were half an hour out. I’ll check again.”

  Half an hour wasn’t long. “Well done, everyone,” Hinck said to his archers. “Rest up. There is one more group coming.”

  He went inside the border house and down the stairs to where General Norcott was standing beside a map of the area that had been tacked to the wall.

  “How did we do?” Hinck asked.

  “As well as expected,” he said. “I’ve got the infantry repounding the stakes that were trampled. According to Lady Eudora, the third wave will come from the east. I’ve asked my scouts to alert me the moment they are seen.”

  “Duke Canden is checking on their status now,” Hinck said.

  “They did well with that last group,” the general said. “Did the giants turn back?”

  “Last I saw they’d started a war with each other.” Hinck sat on a chair near the fire. His shirt had a bigger patch of blood than before, but he had no time to worry about it now. He closed his eyes and reached for Saria’s mind. “Princess? How fares New Sarikar?”

  “Hinck! The empress’s magic terrifies me. She shot lightning from the sky. Giants and horses alike fell dead. She is so adept, our soldiers are in awe like spectators at a tournament. I fear they will worship magic after this. Wolbair is beside himself, locked away in the temple. Yet I cannot deny she has saved hundreds of Sarikarian lives. How about you?”

  Hinck told her about the first two attacks, how well his archers did, how Trevn had helped Eudora find the compulsion in the giants, and how Oli was helping her now.

  “I’m relieved to hear that Duke Canden survived. I wish I could do something to help. I need to defend my home, Hinck, to avenge my father and brot
her and uncles. Yet here I stand, safe on this balcony, watching a mantic dazzle my army with her magic. It’s not right.”

  “All that matters is that the job get done, not who does it.”

  “That should be true,” Saria said, “but you know it’s not. I will be criticized for my inaction. And criticized again for allowing a mantic to fight for us.”

  Oli’s voice barged into Hinck’s mind. “Edekk’s last group is coming now.”

  “I must go, Saria. We’re under attack.” Hinck opened his eyes and stood. “Duke Canden says the third wave is coming,” he told General Norcott as he carried his bow toward the stairs.

  “I’ll have Dahlo send word to Captain Arons,” the general said.

  Hinck reached the parapet and roused his men. “To arms! The third wave comes.” He took position in the center of the wall and looked east. No sight of anyone yet. On the ground, word passed through the infantry ranks, bringing the relaxed men back into formation.

  Hinck reached again for Oli’s mind. “Where are they? I cannot see them.”

  “In the forest nearest you. There are more giants in this group than in the last two—perhaps thirty? I’ve broken only four compulsions so far. Eudora has done two.”

  “I am most grateful for any.” Hinck saw them now, galloping out of the forest like it was on fire. “Draw!” he yelled. “Ready your aim . . .” He did as he instructed. “Fire!”

  The speed and nearness of this attack forced the archers to work quickly. Shots were missed, and too few giants fell.

  “Take care!” Hinck yelled. “These are all the arrows we have. Make every one count!”

  After that the shots flew with greater accuracy. Hinck fired arrow after arrow, ignoring the pain in his chest. He ran out of arrows moments before the cavalry reached the shield wall. There were still a half dozen giants riding, and those in the lead ran right over the stakes.

  Hinck paced to the corner of the parapet, searching for an arrow someone might have dropped. There were none, of course. He watched the melee below in dismay, wishing there were something he could do. This battle would not end as swiftly as the previous two.