The Rage of Dragons (Book of the Burning)

by Evan Winter

  "Who?"

  "The Prince!"

  "Prince Xolani?" Tau said, unable to imagine Omehi royalty being killed because they were cut down. It made no sense.

  Okar grimaced at the name like the failure was his. "He's dead."

  "Us dying won't bring him back."

  "Giving time for the rest to escape," he grunted, still swinging.

  It wasn't true. Well, it was true, but it wasn't Kellan's real reason. Kellan wanted to die here and Tau wanted to accuse him of that. That wouldn't get Zuri out though. "You've done what you can. Leave now or the rest of your men die. Your Gifted dies."

  Kellan swung his sword, clearing ground between him and those pressing forward. He spared Tau a glance and cast his eyes across the battle, which had long ago become a rout.

  "Inkokeli Okar," Tau tried, "you need to save the ones in your care."

  That got through. "Retreat!" shouted Kellan. "Retreat!" but it was too late.

  Down the line from them the Xiddeen backed away, revealing the horror their press of bodies had kept hidden. Chinedu was closest and Tau called out, screaming his sword-brother's name, not knowing if Chinedu heard him or if he noticed on his own. Either way, Chinedu turned and faced the enormous and Enraged Xiddian warrior.

  Chinedu froze. He coughed. Then, bravely, he brought up his sword. It would, Tau knew, make no difference.

  DAASO HEADTAKER

  Daaso, Headtaker for tribe Taonga, feared no man and had feared no man since beating his father bloody. Daaso had been young, his father drunk, and his mother had been in his father's way. His father struck his mother and Daaso struck his father, several times. After that, there had been only one more fight between them to settle the order in the house. Daaso, not yet a man, ruled and his father followed.

  This was unusual, even among the Taonga, who prized strength, but Daaso was unusual. He was bigger than everyone he'd ever met and stronger too. He'd lost wrestling matches, but never twice to the same man. He'd lost spear fights, but never to the same warrior, man or woman.

  Daaso had risen to be a great man of the Taonga. Everyone knew his name and those who didn't had heard of his deeds. He had fought in the Fire-demon desert against the invaders and their black-robed witches. He had faced their small warriors, garbed in gray, and killed them by the dozens. He had battled their leather and bronze armored men as well. They were tougher, faster, and used their swords like they were born holding them. He'd killed his share of them just the same.

  Daaso had more than two lifetime's worth of honor, a beautiful wife, and a young daughter, who he could see becoming a ferocious spear-woman one day. Daaso was blessed and his blessings had multiplied when he was chosen at the Conclave to be bound to a Shaman who had learned the invader's magics. The Shaman and Daaso had trained and Daaso, who had already lived a glorious life, knew what it was to be one of the Gods when the magics worked through him. They made him stronger, bigger, and faster than any mortal man had any right to be.

  Daaso, Headtaker of the Taonga, feared no man and, with the Shaman's help, he stood just below the Gods. He thought that fitting, since he would take a God's vengeance for the evil the invaders had unleashed upon his homeland. He would cut his way through their stolen valley and uproot these vile people from the earth that their presence poisoned.

  Daaso raised his spear. One of the small men was in his way. He was slim, had a pinched face, his eyes too close together, and he coughed as if with illness. He looked surprised to see Daaso. The invaders had not expected the tribes to have their magics.

  The invader leveled his sword, moving faster and with more precision than most of the small men in gray. It didn't matter. Daaso lashed out with a God's strength, sweeping aside the coughing man's sword and, with the same blow, taking the man's head from his shoulders. The stupid look of surprise was still on his face as it spun through the air.

  Someone shouted and came at Daaso. Foolish, he thought, to rally to the defense of a man already dead. Foolish, he thought, to come against Daaso Headtaker.

  Daaso swung his spear at the running man, another small one, and was impressed when this swordsman ducked beneath the swing and came up attacking. Here, at last, was a challenge. Daaso jumped back, avoiding the small one's thrust, spun his spear, grabbing near its point and rammed its haft into his opponent. He hit him, breaking ribs, and the invader flew back, slamming into the ground. Daaso came to finish him off and heard another man calling to the one he was about to kill.

  "Jai-ehd!"

  Daaso looked over to the man who had cried. It was another small one. He was standing near the invader who been magicked as Daaso was but, unlike the magicked invader, or any of the others, this small man carried two swords.

  Even across the distance and death struggles separating them, Daaso felt Two-Swords' hate. It was palpable. Daaso made himself hold the look with the small invader. He smiled at Two-Swords. Daaso feared no man, and if Two-Swords cared for Jai-ehd then Two-Swords could watch him die. Daaso adjusted his spear grip and went to finish the good work he'd started.

  The one named Jai-ehd scrambled to his feet. He was leaning to one side, unable to stand straight because of the ribs. He was older, Daaso realized, brave too. Daaso could admire that, even in an invader.

  Daaso attacked and the wounded man blocked, staggering under the weight of Daaso's crushing blow. Daaso darted his spear in and out at the swordsman. The man was good, better than any small-gray Daaso had fought. He defended Daaso's first two strikes with his blade, blunted the third on his shield, and countered with a straight thrust that took Daaso in the shoulder.

  For a moment, Daaso worried the invader's magics would not do as the shaman had said. He worried that Jai-ehd's blade would dive into his shoulder and deaden his arm, but the magic held and Daaso's skin was like stone. The swordsman's blade bit into Daaso's flesh but instead of losing the use of his arm, Daaso was left with little more than a cut.

  Still, a lesson was learned. This small one should be taken seriously and the Shaman had warned Daaso not to take unnecessary blows. Each time Daaso was struck it weakened the Shaman.

  Daaso swung at Jai-ehd with enough force to take his head. The small one danced back and out of reach. Daaso fired spear thrust after thrust at him and he dodged and pranced, or batted Daaso's spear away. The battle between them was taking too long. Daaso dashed forward and sent his spear ahead. The small one slipped to the side and Daaso reached out with one of his long arms, snatching up a handful of the small one's tunic, so he could no longer scurry like a lizard on hot rocks.

  Daaso, holding the small one still, thrust his serrated spear into and through the meat of the man's leg. The small one, with terrible speed, brought his sword down onto Daaso's forearm. The blow should, by rights, have cut the limb away, but with the magic flowing through Daaso, the blade bruised instead of severed.

  Daaso, with no desire to test the Shaman or his limits, tore his spear free from the small one's leg in a shower of blood. The invader shook Daaso's hand off his tunic and tried to step back, a mistake. As weight came down on the leg, with half its thigh muscle detached, it buckled.

  The man fell, his expression a mask of fear and pain. He did not cry out though. He had not when Daaso ripped his leg, and he did not when he fell. Daaso respected that and Daaso knew the invader would cry soon enough.

  Daaso raised his spear high and, with all the speed and strength the magic gave him, he slammed its point into the swordsman's gut, out his back, and into the dirt beneath him.

  The swordsman screamed, dropped his sword, and curled up around the wound, reaching for the spear impaling him. Daaso wrenched his weapon clear, its serrations doing more damage on the way out. The man gasped, fell back, and vomited blood.

  Daaso declined to take his head. Leaving him as he was would make for a worse end. He'd linger and he'd suffer, which was as it should be. Cruel, but better than any of them deserved.

  Daaso stepped back and turned in the direction where he'd
last seen Two-Swords. Two-Swords was coming. Daaso had known he would and Daaso had just enough time to make a mess of him. He'd kill Two-Swords and then retreat, allowing his Shaman to rest.

  Only, there were too many Xiddeen between them. Two-Swords would never cross the distance without taking a dozen spears in the back. Daaso thought to go to Two-Swords. They could come together, like in the old myths, and settle their spear-feud, but the magicked invader was over there and Daaso had taken an oath.

  The Xiddeen men, chosen to be imbued with this invader magic, had sworn to Warlord Achak that they would not face the similarly magicked invaders. There were too few Xiddeen who had been trained to be magicked, and the warlord did not want any of them to die because they had decided to test their honor.

  Daaso felt frustration. He was not afraid of the magicked invader. He would kill him, as he had killed a hundred others. However, he had made his oath and his word was bone.

  Daaso backed away from the front lines, ready to leave the battle, for now. He had wanted to kill Two-Swords but there was no point waiting. The small man would be lucky to make it halfway to him before some spearman or woman punched holes through him.

  No, Daaso would go, allow the Shaman the rest he needed, he would take a drink of water, and return to behead more invaders. His mind was made when Two-Swords cut a spearman in half and called out to Daaso. Daaso chuckled. The small one had spirit. He stayed to encourage the fool, to see how the little man would die.

  Two-Swords threaded his way through several spear thrusts and killed three warriors as quick as Daaso could count them. The invader paid the dead and dying no mind, coming on fast. Daaso blinked and another was cut down. There was something strange happening here and Daaso, experiencing the first stirrings of discomfort, tightened his grip on his spear.

  There were still too many Xiddeen between them to think the Gods would grace Two-Swords with a glorious death by Daaso's hand, but Daaso was fascinated. He watched as Makara, one of tribe Taonga's best spearwomen, faced off against Two-Swords. Makara's spear was legendary and she had two other Taongans with her.

  She came at Two-Swords from the side, lashing out without warning. She'd always been fast and aggressive. Somehow, Two-Swords had seen her. He swayed to the side and lunged at Makara. Then he spun, extending his other sword and catching the second spearwoman, who had gotten too close. Without care, Two-Swords turned his back to Makara and killed the third spearwoman, finishing that warrior with a sword through the neck. Daaso had no idea why Makara waited. The invader had his back to her. He was defenseless.

  Makara dropped to her knees. The back of her tunic soaked in a pool of blood. She collapsed, dead. Daaso had not even seen the blow that had taken her life and, once again, Two-Swords was coming.

  A young spearman, who was not so young that he should not have known better, leapt at the small invader, shouting his war cry. Two-Swords killed that idiot without changing the pace of his stride. Then, finding Daaso again in the crush of bodies, Two-Swords broke into a sprint.

  He was yelling. Daaso had no idea what he said or what it meant, but the commotion drew the attention of the nearest spearmen and women. Two-Swords killed the closest four in less time than it took for Daaso's heart to beat. With those last gone to the Gods, Two-Swords was close, close enough for Daaso to see his eyes, to see the demon in them.

  The invader yelled to Daaso again. The string of words unintelligible, their meaning unmistakeable. It was a challenge. It was a call to fight, to settle their spear-feud.

  Daaso felt the magic flowing through him. It made his skin hard as stone, amplifying his strength and speed, making him bigger and heavier than three small men, and Daaso, Headtaker of tribe Taonga, who feared no man under all the Gods, readjusted his spear grip, breathed deep through his nose, turned and ran.

  The small one screamed his frustration at Daaso's back. Two-Swords could not follow. Pushing further into the Xiddeen and away from his own people would mean destruction.

  Daaso was safe. He kept running. Daaso Headtaker feared no man, but he knew the truth. Two-Swords was not a man.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CONCLAVE

  Tau screamed at the hedena who had speared Jayyed, unable to believe that the Enraged man had run. The Xiddeen in front of him seemed surprised too and, for a moment, the fighting stopped.

  Tau felt the shallow numbness of shock. It had happened again. Someone he cared for had been hurt and, in spite of everything he'd done, nothing had changed. He'd been unable to stop it.

  Tau wanted to follow the Enraged savage. He wanted to kill everyone he could get his hands on.

  One of the Xiddeen jabbed at him. Tau killed him and took a step forwards. Another Xiddian, fighting an Indlovu, was pushed too close. Tau ran him through and took another step. He could do it. He could chase the Enraged Xiddian down. He could—

  "Common of Kerem, no!" ordered Kellan Okar, from behind him.

  "Don't call me that," growled Tau, struggling to control himself.

  "You will throw your life away. Go to your Umqondisi. He's dying and we can't hold."

  "Jayyed..."

  "He's still alive. Will you let him leave this world alone?"

  Tau glared at Kellan, but left the front lines, running to where he'd seen Jayyed fall. He found him. Jayyed's face was ashen and his eyes half-closed. Tau went to his knees beside him and took his hand. "Jayyed."

  "Tau?"

  "It's me."

  "I thought... I thought it was possible. Peace."

  Tau was back to the day his father died. "Hold on, Jayyed. We'll get you to the Crags and a Sah priest will make this right."

  "Take it... ta..." Jayyed shoved something into Tau's hand. It was his Guardian dagger.

  "No, you'll want it when you're better," Tau told him.

  "Get the Scale... out." Jayyed pressed Tau's fingers closed around the dagger.

  "Simple plan, like I've always liked. We're leaving, all of us," Tau told Jayyed.

  Jayyed didn't seem to be listening. His eyes slid past Tau, over his shoulder. Tau hadn't heard anyone but Jayyed's gaze was so certain that Tau checked. The collapsing front lines of the battle had pushed much closer, but there was no one over Tau's shoulder. He looked to Jayyed. The sword master's eyes were still focused on the same empty space.

  "Jamilah?" Jayyed said. "You're here? Jamilah." His daughter's name were his last words. Jayyed died there, in the dirt.

  Tau heard heavy footfalls. He swung round and saw Kellan. The Greater-Noble was no longer Enraged and Zuri was with him. The battle had taken a unique toll on her. She looked bone-weary, as if she was ill, and yet she was caring enough, loving enough, to share his hurt.

  She went to Tau and held him. She hadn't known Jayyed, but she could see what Jayyed meant to Tau. Her pity swept away the last of Tau's self-control. Tears blurred his sight.

  "He's dead," he said, voice flat.

  "Our battle lines have collapsed. We go now or never," Kellan told him.

  Zuri let go of her hug and Tau tucked Jayyed's Guardian dagger into his belt before slipping his hands beneath Jayyed's body.

  "He can't come," said Kellan.

  "I'm not leaving him with them," Tau said, waving his free arm at the hedeni.

  "Tau, we'll have to run," Kellan said. "More of us are going to die before this is over. You carry his body and you risk yourself, as well as those of us who won't leave you behind." Kellan glanced at Zuri as he said the last part.

  Tau wiped at his face, clearing tears. He stood. "Where's my Scale?"

  "Fighting to clear a path out of this for us," Kellan said. "If they can manage it, it will not stay clear for long."

  Tau nodded, closed his eyes, and sent a prayer to the Goddess. He took Zuri's hand. Kellan looked like he wanted to say something about that but must have changed his mind. He bellowed to the Indlovu still fighting, ordering a retreat. The Indlovu, disciplined even in defeat, broke away from the disintegrating front lines, fleeing before
the Xiddeen.

  They ran, abandoning the mountaintop gully, past Inkokeli Oluchi, who had died surrounded by the bodies of a dozen of his men. They ran out from the place where Jayyed Ayim and close to two Wings of Chosen had breathed their last and they did not slow until they were a thousand-stride away.

  They caught up to the remaining men of Scale Jayyed, Scale Osa, and what was left of Scale Otieno, the third Scale that had made up Oluchi's Wing. To Tau's relief, he spotted Hadith, Yaw, and Uduak. Yaw's shield arm was wrapped from wrist to shoulder with filthy cloth crusted with blood, but other than that, his friends had been fortunate.

  "Tau!" Uduak said, coming over.

  "Chinedu and Jayyed—" Tau said, his throat closing as he spoke their names.

  Uduak stepped back, coming no closer. Yaw turned away, shutting his eyes and Themba, close enough to hear Tau, was speechless.

  Hadith came forward, speaking more to the ground than to those around him. "Anan too. He saved me."

  Themba spoke then. "Runako and Mavuto are gone."

  Mshindi, the twin, stepped forward. "Kuende is dead. I cut down the mka who slew him, but my brother is dead."

  "You avenged him," Yaw said.

  "I should have saved him. He's back there now, lying in the muck, my brother. I've never been away from him. We came into this world together," Mshindi said, turning away, speaking to himself. "Always thought we'd leave it that way too."

  "They're coming," Kellan said, indicating the way behind them. He had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  Tau looked. The night was dark, but the path behind them was long and level, and he'd been born with sharp eyes. He could see them.

  The Xiddeen had reorganized themselves. They were marching. At the front of their column were a group of lizard riders.

  Hadith pressed his forehead to Mshindi's, speaking to the bereaved brother. That done, he spoke to the group. "We have to stay ahead of them."

  Kellan was standing nearby. "Yes, if anyone is still in the Crags we need to warn them and, if not, we need to warn Citadel City. They have to know that our defense of The Fist failed."