by Davis Ashura
The column thundered up a switchback trail, heading for the top of a tall, flat-topped hill. The track narrowed and was open to a harrowing drop on one side and pressed tight against stone and dirt on the other.
The column slowed.
As the trail climbed, it cut deeper into the hillside, and Rukh now found himself flanked on both sides by a rock wall with the quickly darkening sky still open above. Their track was now a small gap, barely wide enough for two or three horses to ride abreast. Just before the crest however, the path opened onto a broad summit, several hundred yards wide and deep, and the column of warriors quickly spread out, making room for those coming behind.
Starb’s men, who had been riding point, closed ranks as soon as the last of the warriors exited the narrow gap.
The top of the hill was flat, the rock dusted red with a thin rind of clay. A thick pillar of stone – many yards wide, worn by time and wind to form a laddered terrace – thrust up near the center of the summit, reaching over thirty feet into the air. Parts of it had cracked, falling over into jagged boulders. The granite’s serrated edges glistened in places. On the far side of the flat peak, the ground fell away in a sheer cliff, except for a ragged and rocky path even steeper than the hard trail they had just climbed. At the base, a long, forested valley spread out. If they could make it down into the trees, escape was still a possibility, especially with the darkness.
The captain issued orders, breaking Rukh away from his reverie. “We’ll make our stand here,” he shouted. “That gap…” he pointed to where Starb’s men had taken up position, “…will act as a bottleneck, funneling the Chims. Their numbers won’t count for as much then. We’ll make them choke on their dead! C and D Companies will hold the trail, halfway down the hill. A and B Companies will retreat down to the valley floor. We’ll lose the Chims there.”
“Sir?” Lieutenant Starb questioned.
For the first time on this hard day, Rukh saw emotion flit across the captain’s face: regret and heartache. “Someone has to slow the Chims down,” he said. “We have to carry word back to Ashoka.”
“C and D are all going to die,” Brand said, coming up to stand next to him, his voice sounding hollow.
Rukh nodded, unable to speak beyond the lump in his throat. These were his brother warriors who were about to sacrifice their lives so he and the others might live. “It’s a fragging world we live in, isn’t it?”
“Suwraith’s spit,” Keemo cursed, arriving just then. “I wish I was going with them.”
“You want to die?” Brand asked, not sounding surprised.
“No. I just don’t like the idea of running from a battle while our brothers are fighting and dying. It makes me feel dirty, like some filthy naaja, a tainted bastard.”
Rukh nodded. “I imagine we’ll be fighting plenty,” he said. “The Chims are sure to have scouts on those far hills.” He pointed to several nearby peaks, including one looming no more than forty feet away. “They’ll be watching for us.”
“Unholy hells. We definitely should have chosen a different caravan for our first Trial,” Farn joked as he dismounted.
“I’m starting to think you might be right,” Rukh agreed with a faint smile.
“It was good knowing you the two of you,” Keemo said. “And you, too, Brand,” he added a beat later. “You’re not bad for a Rahail.”
Brand smiled back. “And you’re not too stupid for a Kumma.” he answered.
Keemo chuckled.
Pume rode up. “Form up,” he shouted. “We’ve got point. Ulrit and A Company will follow right behind us. You’ll have to lead your horses. No way to ride them down this fragging goat trail. Hustle down as quick as you can. The faster we’re down, the more chance someone from C and D Company might be able to make it out of here, too. Shektan, get your men ready. You’ve got the lead. Go!”
Rukh’s men gathered around him, and he led them to the far side of the summit, lined up behind the captain. They dismounted and prepared to head down the sheer path. Rukh glanced down. In the fading light of the early evening, it would be a hard descent, and he took a quick swig of water, his mouth suddenly dry. Suwraith’s spit. Men and horses were going to get hurt bad or even killed going down that steep, thread of a trail. What a dumbass way to die.
A roar came from the edge of the wooded valley at the base of the hill.
His jaw clenched as he focused on the sound. The Chims were down there. His heart sank as he saw hundreds of Suwraith’s fragging beasts pour out from the gaps between the trees.
The captain sighed. “Damn,” he said softly before turning around and calling for the lieutenants.
A moment later. “New orders,” Pume said. “We aren’t going to live through the night, but none of that matters. We’re Ashokan warriors. We don’t quit. We fight to the last!” With a roar, the men shouted their assent. “C and D Companies have been recalled. They’re to hold the trailhead. A and B will act as a reserve. We’re to plug any breaches in the line. But until that time comes, we wait in the heights and empty our quivers. Make every shot count. Now, here’s where I want you.” He quickly had the men positioned along the rocky prominences of the summit.
Rukh’s troop along with Keemo and Farn’s were positioned near one another next to the wide column of stone centered upon the summit. The other warriors of A and B Companies were also stationed nearby, some behind boulders or higher up the laddered terrace of the broken pillar. Most faced forward where C and D Companies held the trailhead and where the main force of Chimeras was expected to arrive in minutes. Only a few warriors held the far side of the summit. The Chims who had exited the forested valley and cut off the Ashokans’ retreat would take hours to ascend to the top of the cliff. By then, the battle would be over.
“Fight with us, Brand,” Rukh urged.
“But if I do, you won’t be able to form a Quad,” he said, looking confused.
“We’ll form a Triad,” Rukh said dismissively. “It won’t matter if we have a Quad. Besides, we’re all brothers in the Trial.”
Brand nodded slowly. He straightened, his eyes bright with unshed tears but also filled with a brazen fire. “Unto the last breath, wield the wild sword and scream defiance!” he shouted.
Others heard his words. “Until the sun’s demise or Suwraith’s death, we war!” Pume’s unit roared in answer.
Rukh blinked back tears. Brand would have made a damn fine Kumma.
They made their way to where Pume had indicated, readying their weapons. Their bows were strung, and they sat in silence as warriors from C and D Company rounded up the horses.
No one needed their mounts anymore, but the animals might still have a use. The horses were stampeded down the hill. Many would run off the trail into empty space, screaming until they crashed on the hard, rocky floor hundreds of feet below, but a few might make it to the Chims host, causing some damage, however minimal and fleeting before being put down. Regardless of how they died, they would all end up meat for the Chims horde.
Rukh saw his white stallion – he had never named the animal – look back at him several times before he followed the rest of the herd down the trail. If Rukh didn’t know better, he’d have thought the horse had sorrow in his eyes.
“Here’s where it ends,” Keemo said.
“Or where it begins,” Brand countered. “Devesh waits on the other side of life.”
Rukh considered Brand’s words, wishing they were true. “I envy you your faith,” Rukh said in a soft voice.
Brand smiled. “We’ll all talk about it one day over a cool beer in Ashoka.”
Rukh smiled while Farn chuckled softly.
Keemo licked his lips. “A cold beer sounds great about now,” he said.
“Cold beer and a warm woman,” Brand agreed. “In that order.”
Rukh laughed. “Now isn’t that something to live for?” he asked.
They murmured assent before once more falling silent, waiting for what was to come.
Soon e
nough, sounds came, close and unmistakable. The yipping of Ur-Fels; the trumpeting hoots of the Balants; the gravelly roars of the Tigons; and the hissing cry of the Braids. And over it all, rumbled the deep roar of their commanders, the Baels.
It wouldn’t be much longer. Only a few minutes.
The last light of the sun had long since set. A waxing, gibbous moon hung low, and stars twinkled uncaring. A cold wind blew on the heights. At the base of the cliff, seven Fractures, half a Shatter – more Chims gathered in one place since the fall of Hammer almost three centuries before – announced their presence with a cry of triumph.
It was a sound to chill the soul.
“Form the Triad on me,” Rukh ordered.
“It’s not as effective,” Keemo reminded him.
“And it doesn’t matter,” Rukh said. “We’re facing seven thousand Chims. It won’t make a difference if we have a Quad.”
“Weren’t you the one saying we aren’t dead yet?” Keemo asked. “Now you’re all fatalistic.”
Rukh shrugged and smiled. “Consider it wishful thinking,” he replied.
“Here they come!” someone from the gap shouted.
“Make those arrows count. Strike at the Balants if you can. Otherwise, hit the Baels,” Pume ordered. “And if any of you see an opening, take it. Especially the Rahails or Murans. Blend. Not now, but during the height of the battle. With all the confusion going on, one of you might be able to get clear. Ashoka must know what’s coming. That is your mission. All of you.”
“Yes sir!” the nearly seventy men of B Company shouted back.
Rukh conducted Jivatma, thick and rich, from his Well. As always, it filled him with a heady sense of invincibility. He stretched his inner senses and found Keemo and Farn even as they reached for him. They Annexed. A languid peace stole over Rukh. His thoughts drifted and were distant. They felt like they were covered with a thin film of icy water. His mind soon stilled.
The Triad was born. It held all the knowledge of its hosts – all their memories, likes, dislikes, strengths, and weaknesses – but was itself simply a construct, an ephemeral being. It had been tasked with a simple directive: fight and survive. It would do so by any means necessary.
The Triad looked through the eyes of its hosts. The enemy was vast, but the Triad knew no fear.
Brand looked at the three men in confusion. Nothing had changed as far as he could tell. “Rukh…?” he began, hesitantly, unsure if he was interrupting something important.
All three men pivoted their heads as one. It was eerie. Rukh spoke, but it sounded nothing like the corporal. “Rukh is not here,” something answered. “We are the Triad.”
Brand was startled. He had seen Quads, Triads, and even Duos, but before now, he had never actually spoken to one. The voice was emotionless and strange; not like his friend at all. “What about Rukh and the others? Do they know what’s happening?”
“They watch. They are aware. They wait.”
Brand gave Rukh…the Triad…whatever it was…a brief, uncertain glance before turning away, unnerved by the way they stared at him in unblinking unison. He looked to the trailhead where the men of C and D Companies had bows drawn or were holding Fireballs.
It was time. The enemy was in range.
Brand set an arrow, ready to draw. He had a moment’s startled awareness as Keemo, Farn, and Rukh lifted their bows in perfect unison. Other Kummas along the ridge, also in Quads or Triads or Duos, had similar dulled features, and they too moved with uncanny precision. The Rahails and Murans along the ridge wore looks of grim determination.
At that moment, with death soon to come, the words of his proctors from the Shir’Fen, one of the three Rahail schools in Ashoka, came to him. They taught that futility was a rescindable state of mind, but duty was one’s everlasting master. Brand finally understood what his teachers meant. Right now, their actions were essentially pointless, but duty impelled them. Futility was a choice, and if he so chose, he could surrender to its hollow embrace. It was a cold comfort he would not allow for himself.
“Devesh guide my arrows,” Brand breathed, before coherent thought was lost. The Chims were in range.
C and D Companies had already engaged the enemy. Fireballs and arrows blew forth, hissing or roaring through the air, ending with the scream of an injured and dying Chim. It was a beautiful sound.
But Suwraith’s beasts pressed the warriors. The sheer mass of the Chims made it impossible to hold them back. Soon, close-in fighting with swords raged along the edge of the summit.
Brand fired his arrows as rapidly as he could, aiming for the Chims emerging from the trailhead. The ones who had already gained the top of the hill were mingled in amongst the Ashokans and sending arrows their way would risk the lives of his brothers. C and D would have to fight them on their own while A and B worked to keep the Fractures of Chims off the summit. His heart pounded with adrenaline. Beside him, the Triad aimed and released with metronomic precision, killing with almost every shot. The arrows were spent, and the Kummas unleashed a withering wall of fire, straight into the maw of the onrushing Chims. Suwraith’s servants incinerated with screams of anguish, and the smell of burning flesh hung over the ridge.
“Frag them!” Brand yelled. He was stupid enough to stand and pump his fist, but quickly ducked low when a flight of arrows came his way. Nests of Ur-Fels, Suwraith’s best archers, had reached the top of the hill and were clustered behind a wall of hooting Balants. Some of the dog-like Chims had laid down a flight of arrows in answer to A and B Companies’ withering attack. But most aimed fire directly into the mingled mass of their fellow Chimeras even as they battled bloody combat with the Ashokans. The damn dogs were killing as many of their own as they were the warriors of C and D.
Another flight of arrows came their way, and Brand hastily threw up his shield.
Just then, the ground trembled like an earthquake, and the Chims were thrown from their feet and off the cliff. But it wasn’t a temblor. It was something better. Brand smiled. It was the Murans. The farmers had a Talent to move earth.
The captain roared a command, and the booming scream of over one hundred Fireballs followed, incinerating the Balants and the Ur-Fel archers crouching behind them.
For a brief moment– a painfully brief moment – it seemed the Ashokans of C and D Companies might be able to hold the line and push the Chims back. But they never had a chance. The sheer numbers of the Chimera horde carried the day. They surged forward like a misshapen tide, howling, hissing, roaring, and baying for blood as they rolled over the warriors of C and D Companies.
“Swords!” Lieutenant Pume called out. “Fill the breach!”
With the hiss of a thrown, rusty gate, the Ashokans of A and B Companies drew their matte-black spidergrass swords.
The Chims charged forward, led, as usual, by the Tigons. Close on their heels were Braids, their shiny, sinuous, snake-like forms seeming to change color as they raced forward. Ur-Fels, small, fast, and cunning, hid behind and amongst the shambling, massive forms of the hooting Balants. Scattered amongst their brethren strode the commanders: the Baels. Their eyes glowed as red as their chained whips as they spurred the Fractures onward.
The men of C and D Companies battled desperately, but so many of them were already down. Some lay unmoving, frozen in death, while others moaned in agony and anguish before the hordes of Chimeras trampled them into the blood-soaked ground.
The warriors of A and B Company rushed forward and briefly threw the Chims back, giving their brothers in C and D a chance to regroup. It was a small pause in the carnage. For a moment, sound seemed to mute to a dim and dull cacophony before the violence took hold once more. A Bael loomed large, urging his Chimeras forward. A cool breeze carried the smell of blood, burnt flesh, and feces. The moment was gone and sound returned with thunderous roar. The battle was joined once more.
Such fleeting impressions impinged on Brand’s mind, but he gave them no thought. He wielded his sword instinctively, letting the
repetition of ten thousand lessons form his movements. At his side, the Triad of Rukh, Keemo, and Farn fought in eerie silence.
The Triad leapt forward, into the midst of the enemy. Tertiary threw Fireballs. An injury-crazed Balant allowed Secondary to press forward. Primary, the most skilled, wasted no movement and danced death amongst the Ur-Fels, Braids, and Tigons. Blows glanced against the Shields of the hosts, but none penetrated. A Bael stepped forward. The bull-like beast pounded the friend of Primary into the ground with his glowing, chained whip. It could not be allowed. Primary was unleashed. The Bael died.
Rukh awoke, anesthetizing the link. “Brand, you alright?” he asked.
“Liver shot. Hurts like hell,” Brand said, getting shakily to his feet. “Thanks for saving me.”
“You’re not saved yet,” Rukh reminded him.
The bulk of the Bael provided some cover, and Rukh took the momentary reprieve to reassess their situation. The Chims were swarming over the defenders. Scores of Suwraith’s servants had died but, little by little, they were whittling away at the Ashokans. Pockets of Kummas fought on, but even as he watched, Rukh saw three warriors rolled over by the sheer weight of the creatures they were facing. Few, if any, Murans and Rahails were left. Rukh hoped some of them had Blended and were simply waiting for the opportunity to slip away. Rukh doubted it was true, but he mumbled a prayer anyway. There were too many Ur-Fels and Braids about. The Chims could scent out fear through a Blend.
Hopeless. It was over. Resigned to death, Rukh prepared to re-form the Triad’s link. Kummas didn’t die meekly.
His gaze snapped north. Someone was out there. Watching. He was certain of it. From one of the further hills. He looked for the telltale signs of movement, but saw nothing. He frowned. The feeling was gone. His gaze drifted back to the closer hills, and his eyes narrowed. A deep chasm, over forty feet wide, separated their ridge from the nearest hill: a smaller, rocky prominence. He glanced about. The Chims still hadn’t noticed them.