by Shannah Jay
Only two other boulders found targets, leaving behind them a broken leg and a badly bruised arm. The injured were dragged to the only shelter available, the dubious safety to be found behind trees.
Gerrell and his men appeared on the slopes above the camp as soon as the boulders had stopped rolling. They were yelling in triumph and brandishing weapons. Some of them carried bows and they were nocking arrows to them.
‘Stay behind trees or rocks!’ shouted Peto. ‘Don’t give them a clear target!’
The townsfolk had so far shown a tendency to cluster together in groups, especially when Gerrell began roaring insults and threatening to tear them apart limb from limb, but at Peto’s yell they separated and tried to find better shelter. Some of the raiders were now between them and the narrow pass into the valley. Karialla could see how white the faces around her were.
Gerrell and his followers were still hooting and jeering on the slopes above them. There were more of them than anyone had expected. One man made a show of tugging on a rope very slowly, then, as he pulled away the log to which the rope was attached, another set of rocks began to roll and bounce down the slope.
‘They’ve got several caches of rocks set up!’ Deverith exclaimed.
‘And most of us are trapped in the valley.’
‘They haven’t had time to do all this in the last day or two,’ Peto said. ‘They must have built these defences a while ago.’
‘But they still knew to hide up there today,’ said Karialla. ‘They must have been warned.’
He nodded. ‘I’m afraid so.’
The raiders all roared with approval as another townsman was hit by a rock and knocked unconscious, and an arrow embedded itself in a woman’s upper arm.
‘We’ve lost the advantage and people are losing heart,’ Deverith muttered to himself. ‘We can’t win if this continues.
They’re far more experienced fighters than we are. And we can’t even flee without risking more lives in the open area.’
Karialla started looking for a way across the campsite that would give her some cover, so that she could go and help the injured people. But although there were rocky patches, the rocks were low and didn’t offer any real shelter. One or two of the townsfolk were edging backwards towards the woods that covered one slope.
‘That’s right. Creep away, you cowardly worms!’ Gerrell’s voice jeered from above them. ‘But we’ve got bowmen waiting in the trees and even if you do get out of this valley, we’ll chase after you. We’re coming into town today to take over. You’re going to be sorry you attacked us. Real sorry. Best thing you can do now is surrender. You ent got a chance of winning. We might allow you to live, though, if you’re real humble an’ apologise nicely.’
‘I’ve got to do something. Our poor friends are nearly ready to give in. Stay there,’ Deverith pushed Karialla back and stepped forward into the open space before anyone could stop him.
‘Are you mad?’ she hissed, trying to snatch at his tunic, but missing. ‘Deverith, come back!’
He ignored her plea and called loudly, ‘Brother, look down!’ as he moved slowly forward. An arrow whistled past his head, and Karialla whimpered in her throat. Another arrow followed it, missing him by a finger’s breadth only.
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‘Brother, look down!’ he called again, more loudly this time. Ignoring the danger, he stopped in the centre of the level area, standing with a calm certainty that was impressive, even to his wife. ‘Now,’ he shouted, pointing a finger at the leader. ‘Now is your time to die, Gerrell!’
Above him, Gerrell roared with laughter. ‘Yours, you mean, you old fool! You’re a sitting target. Kill him, lads!’
Arrows smacked into the ground near Deverith, but he didn’t flinch or make any move to seek cover. And not one of the missiles touched him.
Karialla stretched out one hand, as if to pull him back. Then she let the hand drop, gasping as she saw a faint glow start to build up round her husband’s body. He was using the same energy as he used on his special healings. But would it be enough to protect him?
Instinctively she tried to lend her own forces to his, as she had done when he healed Sarann. She could sense her energies start to flow out towards him as another arrow barely missed him. Would this really help him to stay safe amid the danger?
Trickles of light were flickering out towards Deverith from one or two of the Elders, although they obviously had no idea what they were doing. She heard Chiralin murmur, ‘Gods, look down upon him!’ and saw Evril’s hands stretch out, as hers had done, as if he were physically trying to help. But it still wasn’t enough. She knew that clearly.
She renewed her efforts, pouring all she could into her husband’s shield of energy. ‘Not enough,’ she moaned.
‘Deverith! Deverith!’ She didn’t think she could bear losing another husband to this evil.
CHAPTER 24 Brother, look down
Then, just as Karialla was feeling despair tugging at her, light began to flicker down into the clearing from above and she let out a sigh of relief as she sensed other energies joining Deverith’s. A feeling of golden warmth filled her and although she heard no voices this time, she recognised, with a surge of relief, the life forces she had met in the cave.
Were the strange beings helping them today? She hoped so, for that was the only thing which might save them. She looked across at Deverith, who was to her eyes now haloed in golden light, and hope began to beat away the despair that had been eroding her confidence. He wasn’t safe yet, but he had a chance now, at least.
Most of the raiders had fallen silent and were staring down in amazement at the lone figure in the centre of the clearing, staring as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
Then Gerrell roared, an angry mindless noise, but it jerked his men’s attention back to him. A few began shouting insults at Deverith, telling him that if he wanted to die, they’d grant him his wish. But their voices sounded thin and uncertain, as if something were sucking half the noise away before it started.
‘Now is your time to die, Gerrell!’ Deverith shouted for a second time. His voice carried clearly above the men’s yells, ringing out so loudly it stopped both Tenebrani and bullies in their tracks. There was no way one voice could be so loud, so penetrating. People looked around them in bewilderment, as if expecting to see something new. But there was only the upright figure of their healer, in grey-green forest garb today, not his blue robe, but still with that special air of power about him.
From the slopes above, Gerrell spat another curse down at Deverith, but stopped moving forward and glanced round at his companions, as if uncertain what to do next. There was something daunting about an enemy who didn’t flinch from death and seemed impervious to arrows. Why had none hit him? There were some very good bowmen up among the rocks.
Karialla drew in a long slow breath. Surely people could see the glow around her husband? To her it was so bright now that it gleamed like the sun’s rays at noon.
‘The gods have touched him,’ muttered Perrissa by her side. ‘Surely the gods have touched him.’ She grasped Karialla’s hand, and her own energies began to flow more strongly towards Deverith.
Karialla glanced quickly at her companion, but realised that Perrissa still had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
When Chiralin joined her hands to theirs, moving as if she were in a dream, her energy, too, began to flow more strongly towards Deverith, pulsing with the bright light of her kindly soul.
But in response to a hand gesture and some hoarse commands from Gerrell, the raiders released more boulders, which began bumping down the hillside. Karialla moaned in her throat. Boulders were all too solid against a shimmer of light.
‘Brother look down!’ called Deverith again, continuing to radiate confidence.
Gerrell laughed, but it was an uneasy whinny of sound and it cut off very quickly. None of the other raiders laughed.
There was only the sound of the rocks crashi
ng down the slope, dull thuds, growing louder as the boulders gathered momentum.
Townsfolk and raiders alike gasped and froze in terror as a huge rock, larger than the others, came flying straight
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towards Deverith. With agonising slowness, it hit the ground and bounced up again, still in a direct line for him.
Karialla tried to call out, but her throat muscles were suddenly paralysed by fear and she could only watch helplessly as the rock bounced a final time and flew towards his head.
Everything seemed to slow down and she had time to note Gerrell’s gloating expression, as well as the terror on the faces of the townsfolk. Without her husband, the resistance would crumble, she realised suddenly. Without him, they were all lost today.
Why did he not move? Couldn’t he see what was happening?
At the last minute, however, the boulder sheered away, missing Deverith by only a handspan. It must have hit something that deflected it when it bounced on the ground that last time, Karialla thought, sagging in relief.
Then a second boulder followed in a similar path to the first and she heard Perrissa gasp and moan ‘No!’
Again, Karialla’s lips formed the word, Deverith but still no sound came out. The boulder flew straight towards him too, couldn’t possibly miss - but then, just like the other, it sheered away from him at the last minute. Only, this one swerved aside as if pushed in mid-air by something invisible. You couldn’t tell yourself that it had hit something on the ground. You couldn’t doubt that something had miraculously turned it aside.
There was a ragged chorus of gasps from the watchers.
Up the slope, Gerrell was dancing about in rage, his eyes wild with discord madness, his limbs twitching as he slashed his dagger at the empty air. ‘No!’ he screeched. ‘No, no, no!’
Scattered across the higher land, all the raiders looked at Gerrell for orders, yet he didn’t give them nor did he try to lead an attack on the helpless Tenebrani. He raged to and fro, glaring down at Deverith, seeming to be aware only of him. ‘You’ve been lucky so far, old man,’ he shrieked, ‘but you won’t be lucky for much longer because I’m going to kill you myself. Kill you, kill you!’ But he didn’t move to do it, just continued to rip at the air around him with the dagger, as if he saw enemies there that no one else could.
Deverith shook his head. ‘You’ll kill no one ever again.’ Then he repeated a third time, ‘Now is your time to die, Gerrell!’ And again, his voice echoed loudly up the slopes.
‘You dare to threaten me, you soul-sucking old devil!’ Gerrell yelled. ‘Why, you’re too puny to kill a honey bird!’
Then at last, he moved, making a sudden rush down the slopes towards Deverith. ‘Come on!’ he yelled to the men behind him. ‘Come on, let’s kill them all!’ As he ran, he paid no attention to where he was going and stumbled a couple of times, but didn’t seem to notice it, just continued to slice the dagger to and fro as he moved. Even his voice had grown shrill and strange. ‘Sharp, this is, old man! Sharp enough to slit your scrawny gullet! I’m going to kill you, kill you, kill you!’
And Deverith stood there quietly, not even lifting a hand to ward off his attacker. Not until the last possible minute, when Gerrell was almost touching him, did the Healer twist sideways, moving so swiftly that for a moment his body seemed to blur.
Karialla blinked incredulously as the paralysis that had gripped her and everyone else seemed to loosen its hold a little, but she didn’t let go of her companions’ hands.
Gerrell roared in fury as his blow missed and tried to twist round to stop his own headlong rush. But his foot came down on one of the small boulders he himself had sent careering down the hill and even as he was raising his dagger for another blow, he lost his balance. As he crashed to the ground, astonishment made his mouth open wide. But no sound came from it for his head struck a rock. The sudden crack of his neck bones breaking seemed to echo round the camp.
For a few heartbeats everything went totally silent and the only things moving now were people’s eyes as they stared first at the Healer, then at the still body sprawled at his feet.
Deverith looked up the slopes and asked, ‘Who will be next?’
His words hung in the air for a few moments, then the men who’d been following Gerrell began to edge backwards up the slopes.
Some of the Tenebrani let out sobs and gasps. Karialla felt a great surge of joy that her husband was safe, joy that flowed through her like a warm, slow tide, but she felt so weak with relief she couldn’t at first move.
Deverith took a deep breath and shook his head, murmuring something as he moved forward. He bent to close Gerrell’s staring eyes, then as he stood up, he called to the raiders, ‘The gods are with me today’.
‘With me! With me!’ called the echoes that followed it. ‘The gods, the gods. With me!’
The townsfolk looked at one another and straightened their shoulders, before moving forward to stand behind Deverith in an untidy cluster.
‘They don’t even look like fighters,’ Karialla whispered. ‘Why are the other raiders hesitating to attack?’
‘Because Deverith is there,’ Chiralin’s soft voice breathed in her ear. ‘It’s he who has routed the raiders. He alone.’
‘No. He and our Brother the God,’ Karialla contradicted quietly. But the struggle wasn’t yet over and her stomach clenched in anxiety as she looked up the slope. ‘There are so many of them, more than I’d realised.’
‘They’ve lost heart.’ Balas came to stand beside her, sturdy and resolute. He’d seen it before with raiders. When this
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happened, they abandoned the present fight and moved on.
For a while, the remaining bullies brandished their knives and daggers, egging each other on, but under Deverith’s steady gaze, their yells gradually faded into mutters and quiet obscenities. There was something unnerving in the old healer’s stillness.
It was as if you could see the will to fight draining out of the bullies, thought Karialla, and the madness dissipating, too. With Gerrell’s fall, some men had started blinking in bewilderment and exchanging uneasy glances.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move and half-turned to see one man further up the slope slip quietly away among the trees. Another began to edge backwards towards a spur of scrubby woodland. A third followed them.
When he saw the flight begin, Deverith called loudly, ‘Brother, look down upon us all!’ and started to walk steadily up the slope, not even attempting to draw his knife from his belt. He smiled as he reached the nearest bullies and they stepped backwards involuntarily as he stretched out his hands to touch them. Those whom he touched shuddered and dropped to their knees, sobbing brokenly.
‘Brother, heal them!’ His next words carried to everyone and the echo was more pronounced than ever before.
‘Discord ends here. Let this madness pass from Tenebrak.’
But not all the raiders stayed for Deverith’s touch. First one, then another began to recover from their shock. As they did so, they retreated towards the crest of the slope, or made for the clumps of trees near the entrance to the small valley, glancing over their shoulders as if they expected to be attacked at any minute. When they realised that no one was going to prevent them getting away, most of them simply dropped their daggers and ran, leaving the weapons lying on the ground.
A man on the far slope yelled out, ‘He’s only one man, you fools. Kill him quickly!’ but his voice wavered on the last words and no other raider heeded him.
‘Shall you be the next to die, Lezrath?’ Deverith called to him. He raised his hand and pointed one finger at the man who had yelled. ‘Do you wish to die today? Shall you continue to defy our Brother the God? Or shall you turn from violence now, Lezrath?’
As Deverith continued to walk towards him, finger still pointing, the man fled. But this one didn’t leave his dagger behind. Crashing blindly along in panic, he found himself face
to face with Peto, who’d moved up the lower slopes. He attacked Peto and there was a short desperate struggle before the dagger found its target in its own owner’s chest.
‘So die all vermin!’ Peto said.
Apart from that man, who had been too far gone in madness even to think of surrendering, only one small group of raiders, still working together, kept hold of their weapons. They ran down to the far end of the gully, making for the thicker growth beyond. But before they could get to the sheltering greenery, Balas and a small group of townsfolk managed to cut off their retreat.
The bullies stopped in their tracks, panic written on their faces because they hadn’t credited the townsfolk with the courage to fight.
Balas had a cudgel in his hand. He hefted it, swaying from one foot to another, looking massive and determined. ‘No more Discord!’ he shouted. ‘No more!’
At the edge of the clearing, Karialla watched them fight, one hand on her belly. She knew now that her child would not be born into Discord! And she really had helped save Deverith’s life today. She felt exhausted, drained of all energy, but satisfied to have played her part.
‘You did well, lad,’ Peto said to Balas when the skirmish was over. He stood watchful to see what the rest of the raiders would do.
Balas nodded.
‘We’ll have to teach everyone to defend themselves better from now on,’ Peto said, speaking his thoughts aloud.
‘Sometimes you have to stand your ground and fight against evil.’
Balas nodded again.
‘Don’t say much, do you?’
‘I do when it’s needed.’
Peto clapped him on the shoulder and the two stayed together, waiting for their leader.
Karialla watched her husband move down towards the central clearing, shedding the golden light in wisps and streamers that drifted off into the air and dispersed.
‘Let any of these bullies pass who throws away his weapons!’ he called. ‘And as they throw them away, so shall the violence within them fade and die.’