by Clive Ousley
A storm was sweeping in and Malkrin realised that the demons could use such a natural blanket to get a lot closer before being spotted. Lookouts would have to be posted in the foothills to compensate. He made a note to deploy fast horsemen to the task later. Below the watching council the peoples of the allied tribes toiled to raise further defence lines all the way back from the Derant Pass to Edentown. The bustle and industry was like nothing Malkrin had ever seen before, how could the tribes fail with such collective purpose.
The Fox asked for the attention of all his officers; then gestured with his sword as he described the defensive plan.
‘The steep mountain sides will ensure nothing outmanoeuvres our defence and gets behind us. The tactics will be straight forward: to defend each barrier-line in turn. When the demons threaten to overwhelm the first, a designated officer will sound the fall-back on a ceremonial trumpet. The Brenna cavalry will be held one defence line back as reserves in case the line before them is breached. Then by charging the demons the defenders can fall back through the horsemen or regain the line if the demons are expelled. I’m sure the sight of slashing, stabbing horsemen will put the fear of Jadde into the quarter-men.’
Malkrin wasn’t so sure; the demons were incapable of individual fear and he doubted the horsemen would diminish an overall attack.
The Fox carried on indicating with his sword and the emerging sun reflected from the weapon. ‘This strategy can keep the defence organised until the demons are spent and demoralised enough for us to counter attack and finish them.’
Malkrin frowned; The Fox was still unaware of the demons’ ferocity despite all he’d been told. He doubted it would be that simple. He himself may have to make adjustments to the plan on the spur of the moment.
The Fox continued, ‘the first three barricade lines will be composed of our fittest warriors, and the forth line the next best, and so on down. We will give sections of a line to each tribe so all warriors are with their own brethren as a morale boost. The last line will be manned by old men and volunteer women.’
Malkrin counted nine lines of ditches being dug together with piled barricades on the Cyprusnia side of each ditch, eight of which were behind the original palisade and ditch and one huge well prepared line and ditch in front.
‘Finally, weapon stocks will be placed behind each line and I have allocated small boys to run to warriors and replenish their arrows and throwing spears as necessary. Should the line being engaged succumb, they will take the remaining weapon stock behind the next line. I have pressed on the boys the necessity of avoiding demons and to concentrate solely on the task I have given them.’
The Fox looked directly at Malkrin.
‘A contingent of women will be setting up tents under the supervision of the healer Seara. She has been awarded her two highsense suns without ceremony or test as her talent is now so obvious.’
Councillor Ethran Skunktail leaned over as Malkrin smiled at Seara’s deserved recognition.
‘Have you heard from Researcher Nardin yet?’
‘No Sire, Seara is healing his sight then he will continue searching every nook and cranny of the library. Sire Josiath Nighthawk and Sire Steth Harefoot are assisting him in the search. They work twenty hour days and sleep in the library to waste as little time as possible.’
‘If we have a few hourglasses to spare before the demons assault, join them. A fresh eye may spot something they’ve missed.’
Malkrin nodded as he viewed the great mountains behind still cloaked in winter snow, and wondered if the three sun people were looking down and watching with aloof detachment. He hoped the Highnirvana would find a solution to their breathing problems so they could add their peculiar talents to the struggle. He remembered how his own lungs had felt overloaded the first time he’d walked the lowland plains – he knew how the Jenna suffered. He just hoped they would arrive soon; any mysterious power would aid the tribes now.
‘. . . Malkrin, raise the height of the barrier where it meets the eastern rock face, lest the demons grapple their way over,’ ordered the Fox.
Malkrin nodded and spurred his horse down the path leading to the defences.
The people worked in shifts without dissent, the Seconchane had mingled with their cousin tribes and their stories of the demons and the doomed defence of Brightwater spurred the Seconchane on to forget any animosity, even of the Brenna.
Later Steth sent down a book from the history section and The Fox immediately withdrew a dozen carpenters to assemble items called shields. The ancients had created wooden arm held barriers edged with bronze and mounted on a robust chassis that would absorb sword and javelin thrusts. Malkrin marvelled at the simplicity of the defensive item, it would allow warriors to defend with one arm and attack with the other – and lock together in lines for mutual protection as the books yellowed illustration showed. Further pages showed the use of firearms and Malkrin regretted throwing the empty magic-wasp stick. He laughed bitterly at his ignorance as he read how muskets and pistols worked.
Shifts of sharp-eyed warriors watched for a blackening of the foothills and plains from the high bluff. If Malkrin had been with them he would have noted their anxious glances down to the improvised barricades now being augmented by a tower erected on top of stout wooden poles. A small group of demons had just been spotted in the distance and Brenna horsemen armed with fire hardened ash lances and shields rode out to engage them. The demons were annihilated with only the loss of three horses and four wounded.
One other urgent task remained to be set in stone. Malkrin sent a messenger to bring Palreth to him. He was supervising strengthening a rock barrier when the young warrior arrived.
‘Greetings Sire.’
Malkrin grinned, ‘just call me Malkrin my friend.’ Then he continued with his face set. ‘How are you progressing with mastering Olaff’s great talent?’
‘Sire, err . . . Malkrin, I can hurl balls thirty yards, with the power to kill any demon. I have trained myself to keep generating the magic for about an hourglass then the strength within me diminishes and I can only throw small balls a mere seven strides. They may not then stop a single sick or old demon.’
‘Better than I’d hoped.’ Malkrin used his most authoritative voice, ‘when the demon horde arrives, tour each line of defence and hurl fireballs at groups of demons that look about to break through.’
Then he stared the young man in the eye. ‘If the worst happens and there is no stopping the creatures then take Seara past the Brenna homesteads and into the Lachron Mountains and search for people in a place called Highnirvana. I can give you no more information except that they definitely exist. Will you swear to do as I ask?’
‘I will Malkrin; you have the word of a member of the Sylve.’
Later in the night Malkrin slept, content he had put in place a means to safeguard Seara. He owed it to the memory of his good friend Halle.
He had also found time to race a horse back to visit Nardin, who was again researching fading volumes without using the antique eyeglass whilst Seara slept exhausted in a library chair.
Then two days later a concerted probe in the early hours by a hundred demons threatened to overwhelm a sleepy defence. The demons preliminary skirmish cost forty-two warriors for fifty demons slain. It had taken the ever alert Celembrie led by the superhuman Thicheal to stem the breach and was a dire warning to all who had not yet engaged the quarter-men.
At midday the horizon blackened with the quarter-men host. The evil tide approached in rippling waves with vanguard patrols filtering like oil trickling around large stones. They seemed more plentiful than Malkrin had witnessed on the plains before Mount Doom and many times the amount that had assaulted Brightwater. His heart pounded and he forced his highsense to pick up the thunder of a hundred-thousand bloodthirsty minds bent on annihilation. The tribes had been lucky to virtually complete the defences. He thanked Jadde for the time they had been given.
They needed Nardin to find the ancient’s weap
ons and they needed help from the aloof Highnirvana – and all now.
Right now.
That evening the black tide rolled toward them. Timid men ran, although few they threatened to demoralise the allied defence. The Fox ordered them rounded up, the most cowardly he executed publically as an example, and the rest gave oath to stand solid.
Liquor was handed out to the warriors and armourers and even the attendant boys and women. It fortified their resolve, a black humour developed along the lines. People danced around campfires, determined to spend their last night in hedonistic pleasure. But discipline held and the dark celebration fortified the defenders.
They were hit for the first time before dawn; the swarm of demons were so tightly packed that fire-arrows could not miss. The black host hit the first defence barrier with undiminished force. A furious shower of arrows clouded the sky and rained down with the accompaniment of javelins and spears. The stake pits instantly filled with thrashing, dying demons; their companions merely stamped them down and the pits become their comrade’s graves. Piles of dead demons mounted and still more waves stomped over the corpses. An hour later weak spots appeared and Malkrin rushed reinforcements to them under the hail of fireballs that Palreth hurled into clumped demons. They saved the first line that night, but only just. The demons fell back after dawn and gathered beyond arrow range.
Quarter-men had dragged warrior’s corpses with them and set a long line of stakes into the ground and set impaled heads on them. Hardened warriors were used to the display but the less battle tried Seconchane had to be bolstered by encouraging words from their commanders. The Fox strode along the line offering further encouragement as quarter-men charged again and were repulsed.
The demons paused to finish off their own wounded for an hour, then massed hordes assaulted the line again.
‘Fall back to the main palisade,’ ordered the Fox.
Malkrin and the other commanders organised the withdrawal. A wise order, Malkrin thought. To defend the first line further would be too costly. Young boys rushed back past Malkrin, their arms weighed down with sheaths of arrows and spears. He gathered his trusted companions around him and fought the demons as the last men filtered through the stockade’s heavy gates. Then he and his band ran back through the entrance, losing two warriors in the headlong flight. The stout doors were slammed on the demons and locked with massive timber beams.
The reinforced palisade walls vibrated as demons crashed against them sending the unsteady falling from the walkway. Some rose instantly others were attended to by Seara and her helpers. Malkrin ran to the walkway, raising Palerin before him and shouting encouragement. He peered over the sharpened post railing as men from the tower pointed and shouted. The demons had learnt a few new tricks and Malkrin saw huge smashed tree trunks being thrust forward. The demon tide parted and six collections of demons thrust forward with the battering rams looking like giant multi-legged centipedes. They hissed and screamed triumphantly as they smashed into a concentrated area to one side of the great doors. Other demons threw lighted torches into the thatch roof of the tower and the men abandoned it amidst smouldering reed-thatch falling all around.
He smashed Palerin down on a demon head that appeared over the post tops, they were climbing using their knife-fingers to dig into the wood for grip. All around men hurled quarter-men back and sledgehammer pounds on the logs set a deep evil rhythm to the shouts and cries of death.
Then a curious thing happened.
Malkrin noticed fresh warriors leaping up the ladders to the walkway. They first touched Seara as they passed, just a touch on her shoulder or on her tied-back hair. Their mouths moved but in the horrendous din Malkrin could not hear. He questioned a Wolf warrior as he passed.
‘Our divine Angel gifts Jadde’s energy from her heart.’
It seemed to invigorate them and they fought like men possessed.
Then Seara rose from tending the injured and went to climb the ladder.
Malkrin dashed along the walkway weaving between individual fights and leapt to the ground, rolled and grabbed her waist as she climbed the first three rungs.
Palreth implored her from the ground. ‘No, get down my love.’
Together they restrained her as she cried.
‘My friends they need my encouragement.’
‘You can help them more down here Seara. You will die up there, and then you will be no use to your friends, or me, or Palreth.’
She calmed at the mention of Palreth and saw his concerned face before her.
‘You’re right, but I love them all.’
‘That’s as maybe. Take a break, you’re exhausted. We can hold here. Eat and drink, then return.’
He glanced up as the first demon leapt down onto Cyprusnian ground.
‘Take her back,’ he ordered a limping warrior as he swung Palerin at the demon. Engaging the flailing creature, he jumping away from its feet-knives and severed its head with one gigantic sweep of his sword.
He had a moment of epiphany and clasped the gold sun that had spoken to him all those weeks before. He knew now it was a communicator of thoughts, relayed through a string of users over great distance allowing the Highnirvana people to communicate with his pursuers and with Josiath. He thought into it with all his highsense.
‘Rachel?’
‘Rachel are you there?’
A dead demon crashed down beside him; he avoided its twitching finger-knives.
‘Malkrin Owlear is that you with Jeremy’s sun?’
It was the voice of Rachel again.
‘We need your help now, the main palisade is under assault.’ He thought at full shout as he looked up at the sunset filtering through the billowing smoke and orange glow of rampant flames.
‘Less volume Malkrin please,’
‘Can you help?’
‘We are travelling to you. We have rebuilt ancient guns, but it is a slow journey and they are a great weight to haul down the mountain. Expect assistance to arrive at twenty hundred hours approximately.’
‘20 hundred hours?’
‘Eight o’clock this evening. Also be advised we have had to split our forces in an urgent quest.’
What do you mean?’
A quarter-man lunged at him tearing his tunic arm and drawing blood. A spear was thrust into its carapace seams and two Wolf warriors dispatched it as Malkrin put his hand holding Palerin to his temple to aid concentration.
‘Are you injured Malkrin?’ The Wolf warrior asked.
Malkrin waved him away and concentrated.
‘Four scholars and two soldiers have been diverted to find a Seconchane female trapped in a lost cavern belonging to the ancients. It is a legendary place and we have sought its location for years without success. In fact, ever since the quarter-men began re-emerging beyond Mount Doom.’
Her words confused him and he finished with, ‘Just hurry.’
‘The additional quest may contain the solution to wiping out the quarter-men.’ Fear not Malkrin. All is not lost.’
And the voice was gone.
He swung Palerin at a demon that had just killed a Seconchane boy armourer.
As the creature died he suddenly thought of the sun and planet symbol in the hidden library and realised what had mystified him about it.
He would have to leave the tribes to fight without him. The ancient weapons were the key to killing the demons in a slaughter the tribes could not accomplish on the battlefield. The lower library was still the key to finding the armaments – and he had to get there quickly, for time was running out for them all.
CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT
Malkrin fought through the night and by the next morning they still held, all of the warriors held in reserve now manned the palisade and men slept under the timber wall. The field before them was littered with piles of dead Quarter-men. Another pile had been heaped in a corner away from the defences. The demons’ wood battering rams lay abandoned and still smouldering in burning oil which had been poured then
ignited from the palisade. It was the one element that had gone the tribes’ way and this oil alone was responsible for keeping the quarter-men at bay.
The creatures had withdrawn at first light. Malkrin wondered whether they were nocturnal and could only stand a limited amount of light, or perhaps they retired to allow the sun’s rays to replenish them. He hoped he would live to test each possibility and discover the truth. With this unexpected but probably short lull in the fighting there was an important matter to attend to in the library.
The Fox was commanding his forces from the high bluff with his twenty menservants as messengers and bodyguards. Malkrin rode to him and explained his theory of the gold wall-sun and his conversation with Rachel of the Highnirvana. ‘Allow me time to check the library’s giant sun symbol and reveal its secret.’ The Council Elder looked impassive, unconvinced. ’sun symbols seemed to be the emblem of power within the Seconchane and Highnirvana societies so I am guessing the wall-art is the ancients trying to convey a message down the ages in some way.’
The Fox’s stern face softened, he was getting through to the old man.
‘If I look close enough, a code will surely be revealed. Or what if I touch it – what then, would the ancients speak to me, tell me of the hidden weapon and of their magic?’
The old man now looked directly at him and not to his beleaguered warriors below.
‘A powerful sense tells me it is vital that we follow this up.’ It took Malkrin a further valuable ten minutes to persuade The Fox to allow him six hours and a horse.
Malkrin rode the mare hard, she was willing and an hour later he left the sweating animal snorting and whinnying at the doors inside the Priests Keep. He rushed down the steps and burst through the door into the glaring light of the hidden underground library, and ran past Nardin and the two priests. They looked up startled from books and piles of notes as he flashed by. He stopped before the wall with the huge emblem.
Nardin ran up, his eyes again sharp and focused.
‘Malkrin, what is it?’