by A. D. Green
There was a loud beating of drums, they rung out low and deep, the noise reverberating around the tower. As it died out ebbing away another beat took its place and then another.
“Here they come,” Amos said. She looked up from where she crouched and saw him testing the pull on his bow.
“We avin a wager boys?” Jobe said with a grin.
“The usual?” Jerkze replied.
A bet! They’re crazy thought Junip. Yet she found the thought oddly comforting wishing she had a bit of crazy in her, she needed something.
“Aye,” Jobe agreed spitting on his hand. Jerkze did the same and they clasped their gobbed hands together.
Junip screwed her nose up in distaste. It was enough of a distraction from her fear that she felt a sudden determination come over her. Using the wall to brace against Junip stood, and peered around the merlon at the urak to see again what they faced.
Jerkze stood aside giving her room his own bow strung and ready. The urak amassed still just out of bow range but she could see them moving, shuffling around like wild beasts. She had to do something. Resolved she turned to Amos.
“My Lord,” she failed to keep the tremor from her voice.
“Amos,” he stated. “Lords are for dinners and finery. On the wall here Amos will do.” He smiled reassuringly at her.
“Lor…Amos, I have a trap I’m meant to spring that might blunt their assault,” she stammered.
“Meant to? Why am I sensing a big but here?” Amos replied.
Jobe chuckled next to her and her eyes darted to him in time to see Jerkze scowl and punch his arm. Junip ignored them both.
“They have mages. They can sense if I draw on my art. They’ve already assaulted my master to the north I think,” she said. Behind him she could see the distant urak raising their shields. Her eyes flicked back to Amos and she saw he was considering what she’d said. That was unusual enough, not many listened to her. She was Lutico’s apprentice, the old drunk as many saw him. Tolerated by some but ignored for the most part. Why should they give any more regard to his apprentice?
“Chances are good we’re all gonna die.” Amos smiled grimly nodding towards the urak. “Things look dire. So I don’t really see that you have much choice.”
Great Junip, what were you expecting him to say or do, she told herself angrily. It felt good that anger. It didn’t entirely erode her fear but at least it didn’t feel quite so debilitating.
Amos was watching her, his eyes seeming to read her thoughts. “When I was a lad,”
“Oh, oh here we go,” Jobe laughed.
Amos ignored him. “My Da Atticus would oft deliver little pearls of wisdom, usually in answer to a question he deemed foolish I guess. I confess to not understanding most of them at the time but one such pearl springs to mind now.” He rubbed his chin as he reflected. “A butcher does not ask how to carve a bowl, nor a woodsmith how to cut meat. I’m no mage Junip, I can’t tell you you’re art, only you know what you can do or not.”
She nodded her head, he was right of course she couldn’t argue with the simple logic of it. Up to this point in her life Master Lutico had governed what she did. But he wasn’t here and now it was up to her to decide the way forward. So she thought on the problem, what to do, how to mitigate the risk. It was a fundamental of the art and one of the first lessons Lutico had taught her, when he was sober.
The thought betrayed her and guilt flashed momentarily across her mind. She didn’t know if he lived or died. Strange that the guilt was only felt at the thought he was dead. She cleared her mind concentrating on the matter at hand. In the end it was simple.
“There’s a way but I’ll need help,” Junip said.
Drum beat was joined by a clap of thunder as urak raised shields and beat them. Junip flinched at the sound. Spurred on, she explained quickly what she needed and Amos agreed immediately, Jerkze volunteering to join her.
Jobe clapped his friend on the back. “Try not to let her get you killed.”
“Getting mushy on me?” Jerkze smirked.
“Nope, just we have a wager. Be hard to collect it from a dead man, eh!” He gave Jerkze a friendly push.
Junip couldn’t help smiling at their banter. Then, eager to be off the tower, she walked to the stairs, Jerkze hesitating a moment before joining her.
They made their way down through the tower, the guard room and billet all but empty of people. Outside it was a different matter, a hive of nervous activity. Behind the tower and walls the drum and shield beat was muted but still ominous.
Taking in the slightly chaotic scene as soldiers gathered in a large block outside the tower Junip looked along the wall to see similar groups at various staging areas along its length. Curious she asked Jerkze what they were doing.
“They’re reserves. Used to reinforce a breached wall or spell the defenders on it,” he explained.
She nodded understanding and noticed as she did that behind the guards and militia, women and men milled about. They were armed but didn’t look dressed for war. They were unloading wagons of everything from water butts to crates and stacks of arrows. There were even a couple of priestesses and a priest of the White Lady setting up an awning and tables.
Junip’s stride suddenly faltered. She needed a clear space, not even sure how much. She looked back at Jerkze, wondering how to go about it.
Reading her concern he grinned. “If only I was getting paid. Then I could say I’m earning me wage. Leave this to me.” He strode past her before turning. “Erm how much room do you think you’ll be needing?”
She shrugged. “As much as you can get me,” she replied, relieved he was with her. He nodded and with that pushed through the throng of soldiers.
The rumbling beat and crash seemed to be coming faster. As she waited for Jerkze she watched those about her. She saw many were nervous or fearful. At least she wasn’t alone she thought.
Jerkze was back in short order and with him several men. One of them, an officer by his attire, looked a little self-important. She didn’t know what magic Jerkze had worked but the man gave a small bow before addressing her.
“Mistress Junip, I am Sir Daniels. I understand Lord Richard sent you and you need a space clearing?” He sounded both puzzled and intrigued.
Junip stifled a grin. Jerkze must have heard her invoke Lord Richard's name to Captain Samuels and obviously employed it to the same good effect here. Try not to ruin it Junip she told herself and put on what she hoped was an authoritative tone.
“Yes, as much as you can find me,” she said. Seeing the questioning look on his face she forestalled him. “As quick as you can. The magic I call on may be dangerous. I don’t want anyone getting caught in it.”
Sir Daniels nodded quickly. Magic was an arbitrary thing to most people, seldom witnessed and a mystery to many. Turning he snapped orders and the men at his side, rough serious looking men, turned and started shouting. In no time they had cleared an area twenty paces wide.
Junip wandered self-consciously into its centre aware that many eyes were on her and was pleased Jerkze stood at her side.
Turning about she wondered if the space would be enough. She had no idea. “Maybe a little wider Sir Daniels she called out.” Her voice a little high pitched even to her own ears.
Daniels shouted commands and more soldiers were called over to help usher people further back. All the while the drums beat and shields crashed hurrying them on.
Jerkze jostled her elbow. “It’s time.” He nodded at the tower to their right and as she looked saw Jobe waving down at them. There was a sudden thrum as arrows were released.
Junip's heart started thumping and her nerves jangled. No backing away now. Gripping her staff, grateful again for the solid presence of Jerkze at her side, she set it between her feet and let it lean against her shoulder. Holding her hands out palms up, she closed her eyes and concentrated, incanting under her breath.
It was a small casting, enough to bring her weavings into being. Her eyes
were closed but in the aether she could see the thin gossamer like threads she had prepared over a day ago. To each she attached a spark of ethereal energy, pulsating and bright blue she sent them shooting up each thread.
As she released them her focus switched. The sudden tearing in the aether she felt told her someone worked their art. Their casting dwarfed her own humble effort and she almost lost her concentration as terror assailed her. She felt a hand on her arm and almost jumped out of her skin. It was Jerkze. His contact seemed to ground her and the crippling terror she felt gave way to a simple fear that was enough to drive her to action.
With a thought she activated the runes on her staff. She heard Jerkze cussing and then a sudden concussive pressure rocked against her. Light flared through her eyelids, searing her eyeballs and a roaring of flame and thunder assailed her ears. The pressure seemed to grow tenfold and a trickle of blood ran from her nostrils down her lip and over her mouth. Her ears hurt and her body was crushed tight, bones aching. The pain was intense. More than any she had known before. With a wobble she collapsed.
With a WHHUUMPH the very air seemed to get sucked away from Amos as a massive pillar of flame struck behind the tower. The sound was so loud Amos’s ears throbbed in pain. It was gone in a flash and through the buzz in his ears he could hear people screaming.
Looking back Jobe was picking himself up from the floor at the back of the tower. He hadn’t worn his helmet and his hair looked frazzled, his eyebrows and moustache singed. Amos had no time to see to him. That he moved was good enough.
Pulling an arrow from his quiver, his fourth, Amos deftly drew and released. He didn’t even aim, they were thick on the ground covering it like an onrushing tide and still far enough away that trying to pick out a single target was next to useless.
The explosion had caused a momentary cessation in the barrage of arrows but shouted commands rang out and they started to flood the sky in sporadic bursts. Then, as he drew to release another shaft, the ground in the fields below suddenly ruptured and exploded all along the length and breadth of the assault.
He stared in shocked amazement as earth and rock spewed upwards forty paces or more, carrying torn and bloody bodies with it. A shockwave of sound struck him, a rippling concussive blast that set his ears ringing all over again. Everything seemed to stop and all he could hear was the buzzing in his ears. This slowly subsided, replaced by screaming from the field below, joining with those from behind the tower.
It was unimaginable. Amos had watched it with his own eyes and still couldn’t quite reconcile what had happened. The ground had erupted ten ranks back, the detonation decimating the entire length of the urak’s attacking front.
Most in the front ranks had survived the blast more or less. He could see urak slowly hauling themselves to their feet looking dazed and wandering about aimless. An arrow thudded into the ground, between the feet of one. A miss, but soon, stutteringly, more arrows started to fly and urak began to drop, just a few at first, then, as more bows started to sing, in their hundreds.
Some few urak regained their wits and started to retreat, half stumbling half climbing over the newly formed mounds of earth and rock, clambering over pulped and mangled remains. Belatedly, Amos lifted his own bow. He sighted on a stumbling urak and drew, firing without thought. The urak went down, struck by another archer before his arrow had travelled the distance.
Amos didn’t notch another, watching instead their slow retreat. Of those in the front ranks, less than half survived he judged. Thousands of dead or dying littered the fields below. Fucking magic, it may have pulled their arses out of the fire, but he didn’t like it.
“By the trinity Lord Amos, I don’t know what in seven hells just happened, but I like it.” Samuels clapped him on the shoulder, a grin on his face.
“That lass you had no time for. That’s what just happened.” Amos replied. He felt raw and was not really sure why. The mention of Junip turned his thoughts to her and in turn Jobe and Jerkze. Jobe looked to be alright but what about the other two? His heart sank at the memory of that pillar of flame. Nothing could have survived that, surely. Fucking magic!
Amos looked for Jobe but he was gone from the tower. He peered over the battlements at the back and into the grounds below. It was chaotic, people running about, shouting. From up here it looked like someone needed to take charge. The blackened remains of three bodies stood like islands amongst the crowd, no one willing to go near them. Probably think they'll combust if they stray too close, Amos thought morbidly. He could see no sign of his companions. Resolved, he made his way down.
It was worse on the ground, a sea of people blocking his path and view alike. He caught sight of a sergeant and pushed his way through to him. Nearby was a blackened corpse, burnt beyond recognition. A black husk, bent out of shape, it was surely too small to be a man.
“Who’s in charge here? Where’s your commander?” Amos asked.
“Guess that’s me.” He pointed at the ash corpse at his feet. “That’s all that’s left of Sir Daniels.”
Amos grimaced, assessing the man before him; the sergeant had a haunted look in his eyes, his face singed and red from the flame. He must have been stood close to the impact. On his arm he wore a red cloth, sergeant's rank, non-regular.
“I’m Lord Amos,” he said. “Clear this area sergeant. Get your men and relocate any wounded to the healers. Have these bodies covered and moved. The assault is over for now. Calm people down; better yet put them to work. Understand?”
“Aye Lord,” the sergeant replied. He stood a moment and Amos was starting to think he hadn’t taken it all in when the man turned suddenly and started barking orders.
Amos left him to it. He had to find his companions. He stepped past the burnt husk, the ground beneath dark where the flame had struck, the blackened grass crackling beneath his feet. The other two remains were next to each other and looked much like the first, unrecognisable other than to say they were vaguely man shaped. He extended a boot and nudged one, not sure why, and a lump of ash fell away at his touch. What kind of flame did that? There were not so many people on the scorched ground and he wandered around it wondering how wide it might be. Incongruously, there was a large green circle of grass at its epicentre, untouched by the flame.
“Boss?”
He turned at the familiar call to see Jobe striding towards him, a big grin on his face. Amos took a deep breath and blew it out, releasing with it the knot of anxiety that had lodged in his chest.
“You found them?” Amos asked clasping his friend to him.
“Aye, Jerkze is alright. Junip is out cold. He carried her to the physikers out back. They’re taking a look at her now.” His smile widened as he spoke.
“Whore’s tits, I about shat meself when that fire hit. The lass must have some moxie in her to sit under that and come out the other side of it. I mean look at me whiskers.” He stroked his moustache, the hair curled and singed from the heat. The fire ball must have just cleared the back of the tower where he’d stood.
Jobe led them to the back of the grounds. An area had been cordoned off for the wounded and the ground was littered with people, most suffering burns. A priestess in a white smock bent over a man cutting away clothing that looked to be glued to his flesh. Jobe led him past her towards the rear of the area.
They found Jerkze knelt next to Junip and holding a ladle to her mouth. She looked clean, her grey robes unblemished apart from a line of blood down its front. It contrasted strangely with those around them. Her face though carried the trauma of her ordeal. Her eyes were bruised red and blood was crusted and dried on nose, lip and chin. Her ears too were bloodied by the looks of it.
Amos knelt next to Jerkze and placed a hand on his shoulder. “That was some show. How you feeling?” he asked Junip.
“She’s can’t hear too good boss.” Jerkze answered for her. “She don’t look too bad but she’s a bit beat up inside. Priests say she’ll be fine in a few days.”
“Good,
that’s good. What about you?”
“I’m alright. I mean it was the strangest thing I ever seen. She did something, don’t rightly know what but the next second she thumps that staff of hers down on the ground and it flares up. I mean I seen your sister do it once when she was working but hers spat flame. This, well this was different Amos. It was like the air suddenly hardened around us.” He shook his head. “Kinda hard to explain, I don’t have the words for it. Then that flame struck and the Lady take me,” He touched his hand to his heart. “thought I was gone to join her. Then like that it was over. Junip collapsed like someone smacked her on the back of the head. So I scooped her up and brought her here.”
He took a deep breath resting the ladle. “Didn’t expect to see you down here so quick, what’s happening out front?”
Amos explained. He looked down at the portly frame of Junip and wondered how she could have orchestrated such destruction. She looked like she should be working in a bakery, not reining death and destruction down on urak.
“Thousands dead you say?” Jerkze asked staring at Amos, an unspoken question on his face.
“They’ll be back and soon is my guess.” Amos stated. “Unless Junip here has any more tricks up her sleeve then it’s gonna get a whole lot more up close and personal next time.” He stood. “Stay with her. I’ll be at the tower with Samuels.”
Chapter 62
: Empty
Nihm sat precariously on the wagon. It took some effort and a firm grasp of the side rail to keep herself steady, it helped distract her. Morten sat alongside driving the horses. They didn’t speak.
Morten was lost in his own world of hurt. Nihm could sense his distress and the guilt he felt at Marron’s loss but had no sympathy for him. If anything, she blamed him. Why hadn’t he jumped in? He could have saved her… only he couldn’t swim could he and the river had swept Ma away by the time they searched for her.