And she bent to pack up the tea and the pot. I shook my head and moved toward my horse.
- an excerpt from the journal of Kirin Wynegarde-Grey
***
The snow beneath their feet trembled and as one, the 110th Legion looked to the mountain and the Wall towering above them like an overlord. Black clouds billowed up and into the late afternoon sky and as one, they rose to their feet.
The beta, a stocky black and tan mastiff, turned to the alpha.
“Lord,” he said. “Is it their cannons?”
“No, not cannons.” The alpha shook his head, his breath like smoke. “But it is an act of war, do not doubt. Take a third of the men, fully armed with stealth and arrows. Go.”
The beta nodded and barked a command. Twenty men fell in at his heels.
The alpha motioned to a footman, who dropped to one knee, head down.
“Take a third of the men, go to the village of Lon’Gaar. Tell them to prepare for the slaughter of their Enemies. Bring weapons and any man with the heart of a wolf.”
“Lord,” said the footman.
“Tell the women to prepare food and drink and blades for killing the wounded. As for the children…” He looked up at the mountainside, still billowing dust into the thick cold sky. “Tell the children to watch and learn. We will show them how to skin a cat.”
“Lord,” said the footman, smiling.
***
“Three days,” said Kerris as they stood, looking out over the sweeping landscape that was the Lower Kingdom. “That’s all we were given. The rocks will fall back and close off the pass in three days. Your army had better hurry.”
Kirin shook his head.
“It’s not enough time,” he grumbled. “Not nearly enough.”
“It’s all I could get.”
“Do you think you and the Seer could hold it if it chooses to fall?”
“And make the mountain angrier?” Kerris shrugged. “It’s a fair bit bigger than us, Kirin. It will do what it will do. I’m surprised it gave me anything.”
Kirin sighed. The falcon had been sent back to the battle tower of Shen’foxhindi to set the army into motion but still, there was no way they could be guaranteed of getting all their troops through the crossing in time. It would take a day to make preparations, then another day for the almost five thousand troops to ride to the mouth of the mine. A third day to allow for them to move through the new tunnel and exit out on the other side, the Wrong Side of the Wall.
It was twilight and he could hear voices carried down from the battle tower high above them. They had also been informed of their plan, those soldiers, and he knew they were covering the party with arrows, spears and cannons if needed. His eyes swept the plateau, a valley of rocky blue against the deepening blue of the mountains. It was wide but steep and he knew they could not make headway in the dark. In the distance, he could see pinpricks of light like the twinkling of stars, wondered if they were from the village or the Legion stationed outside.
“Legion,” said the girl and he wondered if she could read his thoughts. “From Karan Uurt, my home.”
He looked down at her, her long face hidden by dark hair and the layers of reindeer cloak moving with the wind. She pointed to a small mound, now covered in snow.
“Three dead. Arrows. There.”
“Where is the village?”
From behind them, he could hear her brother growl, wondered if he understood anything at all of their conversation or whether he merely objected to his sister speaking with the Enemy.
“Lon’Gaar,” she said. “Not far. If we leave at moondown, we be there at high sun.”
“Moondown?”
She looked up at him, her odd bicoloured eyes reminding him of both earth and sky and his son. “When sun chases moon to gar for day.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his mind working to understand her imagery. Abrupt, yet poetic at the same time.
“Sunrise,” he corrected her. “Not moondown.”
“My people do this?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Make you hate.”
He held her gaze for only a moment longer before turning to the twenty gathered along the new mouth of the mine.
“We will bed down for the night in the mouth of the mine,” he called to his people. “Keep the horses close. Major…”
“Sir.”
“Divide the watches. We have cover from the soldiers above but we are still vulnerable and the Legion is close.”
“Yes, sir.” She was an arrow, released by his command.
The Seer blinked slowly, watching her go before turning to his horse.
As his brother set about making arrangements, Kerris slipped back into the mine, looking for and finding his wife with Musaf Summerdale. The tiger had a large collection of stones and mineral samples and it was clear he was revisiting his decision to close the mine. Profit was profit, no matter how many lives paid for its pursuit.
“Hey,” said Fallon, her voice echoing slightly as it bounced off the stone walls. “Musaf is showing me this fantastic vein of ore. It’s amazing really, how they get the ore out of the mountainside, then how they smelt it down to make all kinds of useful—oh!”
Kerris grabbed her hand, swung her around and pulled her close.
“Have I told you how much I love you today?”
“Um, well,” she grinned. “This morning, I think you said something like that, yes.”
“Well, I do.”
“I know.”
And he kissed her.
She kissed him back, curled her tail around his leg.
“You’re trembling,” she said.
He grinned, laid his forehead against hers, but his hands were moving along her back. “Yes, well, I moved a mountain today, didn’t I?”
“Aah.” Her grin widened. “I told you you could.”
“You did indeed.”
And he kissed her again, began fumbling at the wraps of her bison-skin cloak. But he paused, threw a glance over his shoulder.
“Excuse me, sidi, but I am about to make mad, passionate love to my wife,” he called. “I think I’ll ask to you leave before I bring a very large stone on top of your very orange head.”
Summerdale’s eyes grew wide before he turned and fled, rocks jingling in his pockets.
“Oh, that was subtle, very subtle.” Fallon wrapped her hands around the back of his neck. “Tell me again how you charmed the palace courts?”
“Well, it went something like this…”
And her bison cloak dropped to the floor.
***
With the sun gone, there was nothing to provide warmth. They would not chance a fire, not with a Legion so close and the wind bit at their faces and ears and tails like a very sharp blade. He was grateful now for the bulk of the yori for it cut the wind but the pelt around his mouth and nose were white with frost. Not for the first time, he wondered why the Ancestors had chosen a place such as Pol’Lhasa as the seat of the Upper Kingdom. He loved the mountains but winter was hard on everything.
Sireth, Nevye and the Oracle were seated very close to each other on the slope of the mountainside. They were in a circle and he noticed they had joined hands in the ritual of Amnishakra. He remembered the very strange sensation of being in someone else’s mind, of someone else’s heart beating in his chest, someone else’s breath filling his lungs. It was a disturbing sensation for him but, as he studied the trio, he realized it was a good thing. Here, as they took the first steps into a dangerous land, they would need the skills sharp and the Magic strong.
Bo Fujihara sat watching them, almost hidden by the heavy cloak he wore. The odor from his pipe was heady and little puffs escaped his pink lips as he smoked.
The male dog stood behind his sister, arms folded, defiant and proud. Kirin shook his head. To his knowledge, the dog had eaten nothing since being delivered up the Wall, neither had he slept. He wouldn’t last long like this but perhaps that was his aim. Kirin di
dn’t mind. One less dog in the world was a worthy goal.
He wondered where his own brother was.
“Sidi,” came a voice from behind, and he did not need turn. He could smell the incense well enough.
“Sidala.”
“I was wondering…”
He would not look.
“…if you would like to meet your son.”
He did not bring himself to look. His heart was racing like a young stallion.
“No,” he said.
“He looks like you but with dark hair,” she went on, unmindful. She always did what she wanted. “Oh yes, and one golden eye.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Hmm. Working.”
He did turn now, steeled himself against those marvelous eyes, wicked and wise and painted in black.
“Working how? For whom? Jet barraDunne is dead.”
She pulled the baby up to her chest, stroked the thick woolen blankets that wrapped him. He remembered the feel of her hands on him so very long ago, waking senses that had never been awake before her.
“For Dharma, sidi,” she purred. “For destiny.”
“Riddles,” he growled.
“Of course,” and she smiled and turned, slipping away towards the circle, throwing him once last glance over her shoulder, eyes gleaming like beacons in the night.
There was movement in the circle. It was the girl, the Oracle. She was moaning, rocking back and forth when suddenly, Sireth benAramis bolted to his feet.
“Captain,” he cried. “Archers! We—”
They heard the whistle of the arrow only moments before the Seer was sent backwards onto the rocks.
***
The arrows were tipped with horn or bone, drilled in places so that the sound of the wind would cause a shrill, wraith-like shriek. One would set teeth on edge, many would terrify. There were many flying towards them that night.
The second took down Musaf Summerdale as he emerged from the new mouth of the mine. The arrow struck him in the throat and he went down.
The third struck Captain Li-Hughes as he ordered the rotations of the soldiers that had accompanied them from Shen’foxhindi. The arrow struck him in the back and he went down.
The fourth and fifth struck Kirin himself, in the shoulder and the chest, but the osedeh sent it ringing off into the snow and the doh absorbed the tip in deepest leather. He staggered at the impact but did not go down.
From high above, the drums started and guards from the Wall sent down a rain of arrows in response, but it was dark so the volley was sent wide as a precaution. With a snarl, Major Ursa Laenskaya pulled both swords from her hips and rushed down the steep incline, three soldiers at her heels.
“Cover the civilians!” Kirin called to the remaining soldiers, as he pulled the kabuto down onto his forehead. “Back, into the mine!”
The whistles were deafening now, preventing thought and filling even the hardest of hearts with dread. Arrows shattered off stone, thudded into horses and snowdrifts as soldiers scrambled to obey. Two more men went down and a cannon boomed from the Wall, lighting the night sky with fire and causing the distant drifts to erupt with snow and ash. Howls followed, but the whistling did not stop.
Horses squealed and bolted and as his soldiers rushed towards the circle with swords drawn, he could hear the cry of the baby.
Kirin marched to the circle, hoping to protect them with the sheer bulk of the yori when he spied the dog with its sister in his arms. She was wailing and thrashing like a madwoman.
“The mine,” he said, and gestured with his arm for emphasis. “Take her up to the mine! Go!”
The dog whirled and disappeared and Kirin was grateful for the obedience. He turned to see the Alchemist, baby clutched to her chest, kneeling beside the monkey and jaguar who were helping the Seer to his knees. Arrows were thudding into the snow all around them and there was a shaft protruding from the mongrel’s chest.
“Be still,” said the Alchemist.
“No,” the Seer gasped. “Hands! Give me your hands! Both of you!”
And he held up his.
Yahn Nevye hesitated.
“Do it!” Kirin snarled and they obeyed, Sherah taking one and Nevye quickly pulling his gloves and dropping them into the snow to take the other.
“We stop the arrows…as they fly,” Sireth panted, closing his eyes. “This, like this…”
He could almost feel it, the power that flowed out from them strong like a river current and suddenly, the whistling changed as the hail of arrows seemed to strike a wall above them. Wave after wave shattered, raining bits of bone and splintered shaft onto the rock and snow all around them. A second boom of the cannon and a third and the earth erupted far below but the sound seemed to go on and on and on. It was thunder, he realized, clouds blacker and heavier than the mountains themselves and lightning flashed across the sky. Kirin shook his head. There was never thunder in winter. Never lightning. He looked up to the mouth of the mine, where sparks were gathering.
Kerris.
Sparks were swirling and a roar of cloud upon cloud as the sky erupted with light, forking and splitting and reaching to the distant lights of the Legion’s camp. Forking again, down to the rocks and scrub trees at the base of the plateau where screams were heard then silenced. Again and again, crack and flash, boom and flash until there were no screams, there was no whistling and the only lights were the flames of lightning fire that burned the scrub until it too died in the snow and cold and the wind.
Kirin looked back over his shoulder as Kerris dropped to his knees, greyer than the rocks around him.
The clouds stayed, low and grumbling overhead and he could hear the Major’s voice echoing from valley below.
“Ensure they are dead. We take the fight to their camp.”
There was a rustle of wings and a shape settled onto the snow at his feet. It was an owl. In its talons were arrows, at least twelve, likely snatched out of the sky the way a falcon might catch pigeons. It looked past him to the others and cocked its head almost upside down.
Kirin turned, forgetting it in a heartbeat.
“Go up, sidala,” he growled to the Alchemist. “Take your baby and get to the mine. Your skills will be needed tonight.”
“Of course,” and she disappeared into the shadows of the mountain.
“You too, Ambassador.”
Fujihara shook his head. “I will gather the horses.”
“No, the horses are soldiers. They can look after themselves.” Kirin laid a hand on the small shoulders. “You are more valuable than a thousand horses.”
“Don’t let the horses hear you say that,” the monkey said but he put the pipe in his teeth and turned, trudging up the short distance to the mouth of the mine.
Kirin bent to slip an arm under the Seer’s.
“Sidalord jaguar…”
“Sorry, yes of course.”
Together they helped the Seer to stand.
“I’m fine, Captain,” Sireth said but his face was strained in the darkness. “I’m quite familiar with arrows. Besides, pain…”
“Is simply a matter of perspective. Yes I know.”
“My gloves!” Nevye turned his head but Kirin cut him off.
“Your owl can get them, sidi. Please concentrate.”
“But he’s not…” Nevye looked at him, swallowed. “Yes. Yes he can.”
They shouldered the Seer under their arms and together, staggered up the hillside. They were accompanied by an owl, carrying gloves.
***
The trees were black against the snowy ground as Major Ursa Laenskaya slunk toward the Legion camp, moonlight glinting off her blades. Three soldiers were behind her and she motioned for them to fan out, circling the remnants of the Legion camp between them. The few gars were burning, scorch marks rending the snow like the claws of a dragon. There were weapons scattered on the ground, and the night air smelled of burnt flesh and fur. A few were moaning.
There was mov
ement behind and she whirled, bringing the long sword up in time to stop the blow from a halah’bard that would have split her in two. The strength of it sent her to one knee and a rough hand swung up to catch her throat, stopping her breath and forcing her neck back. The dog stepped closer, the odor of him striking like a fist and she could see him grinning in the moonlight as he pushed the halah’bard down onto her steel. She fought to keep the katanah steady, fought to keep her chin up and defiant. She was a warrior, trained and tested and the bane of dogs for she fought with two swords. In her left hand, the kodai’chi swung like the strike of a serpent, taking his leg out from under him and sending him falling backwards into the snow. She sprang on top of him, bringing the katanah down onto his forehead with a thunk. He twitched beneath her and lay still.
Swiftly, she rose to her feet, not bothering to wipe her blades. She could hear the tang of steel and knew her soldiers were dispatching the remnants of the Legion. She moved into the heart of the camp, let her eyes sweep over their few personal effects, the bedrolls and weapons, the crackling tents and tin cups. There was a man on hands and knees, his torso blackened by lightning, attempting to crawl to his sword. Valor, she thought to herself. Valor and duty. Traits she could appreciate.
Because of that, she took off his head in one blow.
Her blood was racing with the passion of battle, her heart as sharp as the sharpest steel. As she moved through the camp, taking off all the heads that remained attached to bodies, she knew that she had made the wrong decision at the path to Sha’Hadin. She had likely made the wrong decision at the beach in Ana’thalyia or in the gypsy camp or in the mountains of Hiraq. She was a warrior, only at home with a blade in her hand. She should not now nor ever be the wife of a priest.
She cast her eyes up to the mountain where fires were burning on the Wall. She had not stopped to help him. She had seen him hit by the arrow and still, she had not stopped. Her chest tightened and she prayed he was still alive. She was a very bad wife.
Find the steel in yourself, he had said. For yourself.
The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom Page 96