Cry of the Newborn

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Cry of the Newborn Page 71

by James Barclay


  He put his head down and urged more speed from his horse. He tore past Roberto, past standing ranks of archers and down between two lines of triarii. The thumping sound of his horse's hooves filled his ears but he could sense the outrage spreading quickly through the army. By the time he had cleared the triarii and slowed to turn right and then left to drive between two maniples of principes, heads were turning their way from all corners.

  He dared a quick glance behind him. The Ascendants and Menas were still with him. The angry faces of triarii and principes were a backdrop to everything and he could see flags beginning to wave. Archers were on the move.

  He ploughed on. On an order, hastati were turning. Jhered cleared the principes and dragged the reins hard left. The horse slewed around. Gorian gripped his waist tight and went with the turn. Ahead the maniples were closing and sarissas were swinging from front to back.

  'Clear!' he roared. 'Clear!'

  They could see he had no intention of stopping. He had to trust that his horse would not pull up at the wall of hastati. Had to trust a gap would open for it to see. He turned right. There was a space. He hurried down it. In front of him, hastati dived left and right out of his way. He felt fists on his legs and heard the abuse rain down on him.

  He burst clear of the army. Gorian shouted in triumph. On the open ground, his horse picked up speed and galloped towards the neck of the valley.

  'They're all with us. They've made it.'

  Gorian's voice in his ear was welcome relief. He nodded.

  'Tell me how near you need to get. Don't leave it too long.' The first arrows fell around him. 'Stop this, Roberto. Let me be.'

  He looked to the flanks of the army. Detachments of cavalry were riding parallel to him but not closing. Not yet. He prayed that none of the arrows would find a mark and pushed on, desperate to be out of range. In his ears, howls of derision from the army rolled over them. Ahead the Tsardon jogged on, keen to reach their stand before the advance of the Conquord army. They were little more than a mile away now. This was going to be awfully close.

  'Gorian?'

  'Keep going. We must be almost beneath the walls of the plateaus.'

  Jhered breathed deep. They were closing on the enemy so quickly. Already, he could see Tsardon riders moving ahead of the line. They were cautious, having seen the advance Conquord cavalry. For that, Roberto had to be thanked though it surely wasn't his intent.

  'Pull up,' said Gorian.

  Jhered reined in. Gorian dismounted and ran back a little way to see to the others. Jhered slid off the horse and patted it away. The arrows had long since stopped but the taunts of the army came on unabated. He could hear laughter mixed with the abuse. They were perhaps half a mile ahead of the Conquord lines. Far too far away for any defence should they need it. The cavalry detachments monitored them but did not move in.

  'Come on,' said Jhered. 'Hurry.'

  The Tsardon saw only a handful of enemies ahead. No threat, just easy targets. Their horsemen had returned to the lines. Archers were moving ahead. They would be in range before the Work was done.

  'Kovan, Menas. Shields ahead. Get down behind them. Ascendants, get inside the shields as far as you can. Get working. We are short on time.'

  Out here, their vulnerability was acutely plain. Mirron was shaking, Arducius bit his lip and Ossacer could obviously sense the advancing army. Fear had creased his face. Gorian seemed unfazed. No doubt he was quaking inside but here, on the grass between opposing armies, the Ascendants would have to deliver.

  Roberto shook his head and signalled the archers to stop wasting their arrows. He hadn't wanted to hit them, just stop them running. He sent an order to the cavalry to stand down and denied his light infantry the opportunity to take them into custody before the Tsardon got within bow range.

  'Let the Tsardon take them,' he said. 'Why should I care if they die?'

  'Because Jhered is with them,' said Neristus.

  'Is he?' Roberto looked down at Neristus. ‘I don't recognise him. The man out there is not the man I know and love.'

  He looked out over the heads of his citizens. Eleven thousand standing to watch a few fools throw their lives away.

  'I'm sorry, Paul. You are beyond my help now.'

  Arducius had a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew it was fear but he had to try and ignore it for the benefit of Mirron and Ossacer. They could sense each other's state through the lifelines and energy trails. His sampling told him that neither of them could focus properly at the moment. Only Gorian appeared unflustered.

  'Just concentrate,' said Gorian. 'You have to ignore where we are.'

  'How can I do that?' said Ossacer. 'There are thousands of

  Tsardon coming and if we get this wrong we could kill some of them.'

  'And the longer you delay, the more chance there is,' said Gorian.

  'We're all scared,' said Arducius. 'We know this is the first time we've been under this pressure. But we also know we can do this. Gorian is right, we must try and ignore everything but the targets.'

  'It's so hard.' He could see Mirron's shivering in her energy map. 'We can't do this wrong. They'll kill us.'

  'The Exchequer won't let that happen,' said Arducius. 'He'll get us away before we are in real danger.'

  'Concentrate,' said Gorian again. 'Feel out through the earth, see where the trails are strongest. And feel where the life surrounds us. The river is behind, there is a breeze in the air and there is growth all around. See where the energy maps of men and beasts are standing. Their circuits are closed to us for this Work.'

  'That's it, Ossacer,' said Arducius. 'Breathe slowly. Let your mind open your body. That's it. Good.'

  That was more like it. They stabilised. The flaring was lessening now they were concentrating hard enough to push aside the reality of the enemy closing on them. The thundering of hooves and the roar of so many thousands of voices began to fade.

  'None of us is a natural Land Warden,' said Arducius, his words dancing in the air for them all to see and absorb. 'So we will link together and use the energies around us. We are each other's strength and guide. We will draw on all that we can. We will use our bodies to amplify the elements surrounding us; and we will project them at our targets along the strongest energy trails beneath the earth. Are we of one understanding?'

  One by one, they affirmed that they were. The trembling was gone from Ossacer's voice as the beauty of the energies revealed themselves to him and he lost himself in the science of their planned creation. Mirron still harboured fear but the comforting strength of Gorian enveloped her and kept her focused. And Arducius knew for the first time that they really could perform the Exchequer's wishes. Excitement surged in him.

  He opened his body and accepted the power that coursed through him. It made his lifelines blaze in his mind's eye. The others were there too. He could feel his body vibrate. The link they shared drove the power through them all, spiralling up in intensity within the closed circuit of their bodies. He breathed out. With his mind, he searched for the paths through the earth that led to the plateaus to their left and right. The paths where trickles of water ran down from the lake into the river. Or where the roots of countless blades of grass, flowers, shrubs and the trees that dotted the landscape found their purchase.

  'Keep strong,' he said, aware this was more energy than they had ever dared contain and amplify before. 'Remember how far the targets still are. We cannot let the energy dissipate on its journey.'

  'It's wonderful,' said Mirron. 'Look what we can harbour. Look how easy it is.'

  'I told you,' said Gorian. 'I always told you. And now it's time to show them what the Ascendants have brought to their world. Arducius?'

  'We have the understanding,' he intoned as Father Kessian had taught them, to nail down their concentration. 'We have the energy within us and we have the vision of our Work. Under God, let us act.'

  The Ascendants opened the circuit and ploughed the augmented energy along the trails, feeling
it boil life into the earth and everything it found there. They pushed hard, seeking the edge of the plateaus and the targets they knew they would find: the roots of the trees that clung to their slopes and that reached through to the bedrock beneath.

  Roberto felt it as much as saw it where he sat on his horse, waiting for the Tsardon to engulf Jhered and his charges. The slightest ripple through the earth that moved through his army like wind over a field of corn. The air stilled. It was charged like the moments before a thunderstorm broke. He frowned.

  It was all Jhered could do not to turn and run. He clamped his hands hard on Kovan and Menas's shoulders and crouched lower behind the shields. The enemy were still three hundred yards away but coming on fast. In half that distance they would be trying out their range.

  But arrows were the least of his worries. He had listened to the words of the Ascendants and felt the energy wash away from them like a wave. Their horses had bolted away back towards the Conquord army, touched by something they could not understand. And now beneath the Ascendants, the grass grew dense and tall while beyond their circle, the life deserted the plants which withered, blackened and rotted before his eyes. And the death was spreading. Small yet but growing as life energy was channelled towards the plateaus. He swallowed, frightened by what he had sanctioned. 'Look,' breathed Kovan. 'Out there.'

  Jhered looked over the edges of the shields. Multiple lines of growth fled away from the Ascendants, spreading out towards the plateaus. Grass, flower, root and stem burst from the ground, grew and withered. The energy lines drove them to brief life and stole all they had to keep moving on. And so fast, so straight. He imagined the power boiling through the ground beneath, coiling and spurting, gathering speed and density. Boring towards the latent, deep strength of the trees.

  Still the Tsardon came on. They wouldn't yet see what was racing towards them. Archers were at a sprint. The first of them stopped, jabbed arrows into the ground and bent their bows. Others ran on.

  'Down,' said Jhered. He heard the whisper and the thud. All fell short. 'Come on, you lot. Don't let me down.'

  The Ascendants would not hear him. They were lost in their world of energy trails, lifelines and the manipulation of God's earth. And all around him, the effects of that manipulation were becoming more obvious and more corrupt. The dead circle around them was expanding faster now. The earth was drying and cracking. But still it was less than ten yards in diameter.

  More arrows fell. Above the tumult of the approaching army, he could make out the shouts of the Tsardon archers closing on them. He ducked down lower. A shaft flew past his head and struck the dead ground behind. Two more rattled into the shield. Kovan winced at the impact. Menas shifted.

  'It'll be all right lad. Trust your friends.'

  He looked once more to the Ascendants, mouthing his desire for speed. Time was almost up. They had their range. Soon, they would have their direction too and a pair of shields would not be enough.

  'More,' whispered Gorian, his voice curiously altered as if from the mouth of an older man.

  Mirron moaned and Arducius said something Jhered couldn't make out. He could see their arms trembling with the effort. And their hands were buried in the ground. He looked again. The grass, the earth, the roots were growing up across and inside their hands. Their flesh looked like it was tattooed with the patterns of green and brown. They were fused with it. He shuddered, nausea sweeping through him.

  There was a single loud crack that reported across the valley ahead. The voices of the Tsardon archers died in their throats. Jhered dragged his head round reluctantly and looked over the shields. He saw a trickle of rubble run down the side of the plateau to their left. A hundred yards away, the branches of a tree moved in a single violent motion.

  And that was it. Jhered stared at the tiny cloud of dust that rose into the sky. There surely had to be more. The Tsardon archers ignored the lines of dead vegetation at their feet and nocked more arrows.

  'More,' said Gorian. 'Push. The door is open.' The circle of blackened grass fled away faster than Jhered could follow. He felt a bass rumble. The ground shook once, gently. 'Now,' said Arducius.

  The energy flooded away again. The steep sides of the plateaus burgeoned with abrupt, vibrant life. Trees speared up to the sky. Buds formed on new branches, leaves clogged twig and bough. And roots, glorious roots, delved deep and unstoppable, searching for new purchase and sustenance.

  Both sides of the valley along which the Tsardon marched burst with the deep colours of genasrise growth. The growth drove on and on, far out of Jhered's sight and a smile crossed his face. Root systems invaded every tiny crevice and crack, every weakness in the rock, quicker than a lightning strike.

  A series of new, louder cracks ricocheted across the plain. The earth rumbled faintly. Jhered thought he saw the whole southern plateau shudder. More cracks, deeper and sharper. Shards of rock sprang away from the plateau sides and showered the ground in between. The Tsardon army faltered. All eyes were fixed on the unearthly sights surrounding them.

  Still the trees grew. Tall and strong, their trunks thickening, their branches clawing further to the sky. This time Jhered knew he had seen the shudder in the land. He made an involuntary backward move.

  'Dear God-around-us-all,' he breathed. 'It's gone so deep.'

  Tangles of roots twined and pulled at the rock faces. Earth began to slide down the slopes. More and more roots burst from the top of the plateau, catapulting stone into the air. A tortured screaming, as of great metal plates torn and twisted, split the air. The northern plateau edge sucked in and crashed outwards. Thousands of tons of rock from the shivered side slid downwards into the plain. Trees, earth and stone tumbling uncontrolled and uncontrollable on a length of a mile, two miles. Far farther back than they had planned or could control. Dust clogged the air.

  A heartbeat later, the southern plateau cracked and fell. A line tore in its eastern edge, roots burst through it, forcing it wider and wider until it split. Eighty yards and more collapsed out and began to fall. And behind it, the lake bed was fractured and the water burst outwards, shorn of its rock shackles.

  A wall of blue and green and grey exploded into the plain. Jhered saw slabs of stone tossed hundreds of feet into the sky as the pressure of ages was released. Mud, trees and stone all poured down in a wave that engulfed the plain and the Tsardon army within. They had nowhere to go.

  He saw horses rear and men began to run away from the colossal volume of water thundering down towards them, directed along the valley by the Ascendants at his feet.

  They could not know what it was they did. The density of bedrock and hard wood crashing down on to the helpless enemy. And as fast as they ran, the water gushed after them, catching them and grabbing them in its drowning embrace. Or the sides of the plateaus rushed down to catch them in great stone pincers. Battering, threshing, crushing.

  The sound of the earth tearing itself apart smashed around his ears. The screams of the Tsardon were lost in the roar of water. The drumming of hooves silenced under the hail of rock.

  'Stop!' he yelled into Gorian's ear. 'Stop. The Work is done.'

  Water charged against the opposite side of the valley in a wave and fell back. The wash came towards them. Calmer now, rolling stone a few yards before depositing it and rippling on. It was the wetness over their hands and legs that brought the Ascendants round.

  They slumped back on to the ground, faces lined with age, hair lank and fingers wrinkled. They gasped great lungfuls of air and lay helpless and exhausted. Mirron was the first to try and rise but Menas was to her feet very quickly, pushing her back down.

  'Don't look, honey. Best you don't look.'

  Jhered stood and turned his back on the devastation. On the countless bodies broken by water, rock and wood; on the screams of the wounded and the fleeing; on the few Tsardon who by some miracle had survived; and on the lucky ones far enough back along the march to escape. On the rout of seven thousand.

  He looked
away to the Conquord legions and the banners and standards still held high and proud. To the faces of legionary and cavalryman. Of centurion and general, surgeon and engineer.

  And the silence rolled over him.

  Chapter 63

  848th cycle of God, 40th day of Solasfall 15th year of the true Ascendancy

  Eventually Roberto ordered the army back to the plateau to make camp. He had waited for them to break and run towards the plain. To overrun Jhered and his witches and tear them limb from limb for the atrocity they had caused under God's sky. But they hadn't. After all, if they could do that to a hillside, what could they do to a man?

  He had sat on his horse and let the noise surge around him. He had listened to the prayers and exhortations for deliverance. He had heard them try and explain it all away. A natural phenomenon. A visitation from the Omniscient on the evil Tsardon. The prayers for mercy had even turned in some quarters to those of thanks. But in all their hearts, they knew. They had all seen the dark spread from the kneeling children in a perfect circle. They didn't know what it was but it had heralded the sloughing of the rock onto the plain and the destruction of the enemy.

  He had ridden across the back and front of the infantry lines. Their discipline was first-rate and he was gladdened by it. But he could see the confusion and fear in every face. It was in the set of their bodies where they stood in strict maniple order. And the centurions who kept them steady had fared no better. Eyes gazed up at him from under plumed helmets and he nodded his thanks to them.

  He had kept back a hundred cavalry under Elise Kastenas's personal guidance to defend their retreat. She had taken her detachment to the edge of the valley. It was covered in bodies and boulders and the shattered trunks and branches of trees. It was as if God had grabbed a fistful of the earth and thrown it down, not caring who He killed.

  Finally, Roberto had calmed himself enough to ride alone across

 

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