The Panids' Children_The Panids of Koa

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The Panids' Children_The Panids of Koa Page 36

by Lee M Eason


  “That was more than a bloody nose,” Kara said looking out across the wreckage.

  “If only that’d be enough,” Gwen said. “What do you think he has for us next?”

  “There were some Talents on those ships,” Kara noted. “I noticed some of the blocks being deflected but not many. He’s saving them for later.”

  “We haven’t seen much of his powder weapons either,” Gattick added tensely. “We can be sure he’ll deploy those.”

  “Whatever he has planned he’s going to have to get over that,” the Commander point at the wreckage that started several hundred feet away from them. He looked at the destruction. Yes, they’d dealt Segat’s forces a devastating blow and done more damage than he’d dare hope but he’d played most of his hand to do it. He had one good card left, Segat however, seemed to be holding the deck.

  ***

  The great iron doors shook disturbing the dust of decades. The echoes reverberated around the chamber and up the stairway eventually dwindling to nothing. The second impact jarred them again, spraying more dust. The third buckled them, opening a gap. The final focus ripped them off their hinges. They crashed to the floor with a resonant boom.

  Naicarn waited until the silence surrounded him again. He was about to move but then stopped. He looked at his foot as if seeing it for the first time, the floor it was on, his hands and then the walls around him. Suddenly aware of his surroundings and actions, the presence in his head was gone. He turned quickly at the sound of footsteps. A girl descended them, eyes fixed on the opening. He was at first confused, as his mind struggled to piece together events it had witnessed but not fully comprehended since he’d left Aurt. He realised his actions had not been his own, actions that had performed a task, the task of allowing this girl, The Prize, entry. The whispers had urged him on in the hunt for The Complex’s location. Line by line he’d been made to piece together the clues. He had been used to find it and then break into the complex and allow this girl entry. She couldn’t have been strong enough to do it on her own. His ambitions for his Order, all his planning, his sacrifices, the pain! They had all been for nothing. Developing his ability to tap into the field had achieved nothing more than alert his usefulness to the whispers. He had been a pawn, a means to an end. The realisation was both a crushing blow and a release.

  The girl stepped past him brushing against his sleeve. He grabbed her wrist.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  She stopped to look blankly at his hand and then directly at him. Her face was expressionless and he released his grip, realising she was barely aware of him. She turned and walked into the chamber.

  ***

  Kellim and Lewen silently stepped into the entrance to The Field’s Complex and began a cautious decent down the wide staircase that wound round and round on itself. The spiral seemed to go on forever, lit by faint panels implanted into the stone of the walls. Lewen tried to keep his nerve and not let his imagination get the better of him. He’d never had to face anything like this before. The fear of the unknown was far greater than any straight forward fight. He’d been in several but always with Bryn or Jac at his side. This was different. He felt the weight of the task ahead and the responsibility he placed on himself to protect Kellim and find Jenna. He forced aside concerns for her safety, thoughts of how she was and what had compelled her to leave. He knew he needed to remain alert and focused.

  Kellim’s senses went before him like a tide, sweeping the walls and down the steps. As he saw the way ahead was clear he quickened his pace. It had puzzled him why The Field’s Cap had not attempted to contact him or one of the other remaining Panids. Had Naicarn and Jenna become more powerful and as a result easier to contact. From no sense of pride, he suspected this was not the case. Perhaps some part of its construction prevented it from manipulating a Panid. His steps faltered as he registered Naicarn’s will. He was here!

  ***

  As dusk fell the Commander set his final card and ordered the deployment of the Amarian powder weapons along The Hand. He’d held off their placement, not wanting them to be spotted by any of the enemy ships. The walkway on top of the wall was some twelve feet in width and these new weapons took careful manoeuvring into position, each was nine feet long and weighed tons. Winches creaked and strained as they were hoisted into place but the men worked quietly in the growing dark, giving away as little as possible. The Twins help meant the iron devices were in place and ready in far less time.

  Hoists were cleared away and the night watch now came onto the wall joined by The Hunter. Kara and the other Changers transformed, joining her to patrol its length. Their keen sense of smell catching every change on the wind, their unmatched eyes kept watch in the dark. It took some time for the guards, although pre-warned, to get used to the prowling animals especially when The Hunter passed, standing some six feet at the shoulder.

  The Commander heard Kara approaching long before he saw her. The rhythmic click of her talons on the stone carried a long way in the still night air. She transformed while still in the shadows, away from lookout posts and the night watch, knowing people found the sight disconcerting.

  “You still up Commander,” she greeted as she neared him.

  “I slept earlier. I’ve always been able to get by on very little.”

  “It’s just as well then. You’re not in for a quiet morning.”

  “You’ve news?” The Commander asked, turning to look out into the darkness dotted by the few fires that hadn’t burnt themselves out.

  “The Hunter can hear movements out beyond the wrecks and the wind has changed direction bringing the scent of many people on the move. I think they’re coming.”

  He folded his arms. “Then they must have a way to clear the wrecks. They can’t get over or passed them.” He was drumming his fingers on his arms. “I’d like to know what they’re up to.”

  “I could cover the distance and the wreckage in no time,” Kara offered.

  “I’d rather not risk you on a simple scouting mission,” The Commander replied. “The gates have been braced and you can’t leap down from here,” he paused a moment turning to look at her. “Can you?”

  “No it’s too high. But I know someone who could help.”

  “The Journeyman?” the Commander guessed. “If you and he can do this with minimal risk I’ll give the go ahead.”

  Kara found Lors and between them they hatched a plan. He transported them from the top of the wall. Lors was easily able to pinpoint safe transfer points even in the dark. The Commander waited for their return, distracting himself with the regular reports from stations along the wall’s length. The time passed uneventfully and the night watch struck the hour. They’d been gone for longer than agreed and the Commander was beginning to worry when they re-appeared, as promised on the exact spot they’d departed.

  “They’re out beyond the wreckage,” she was out of breath from running and the challenge of negotiating the wreckage. “They’re moving in their powder weapons, big ones, twenty feet in length on huge wheeled platforms. They’re also setting up barrels of what I can only imagine is more powder with long cords coming from them.”

  The Commander frowned. “I think they’re going to try and blast their way through, those lines seem able to carry a spark to the powder. If they place the packs correctly, they should be able to clear a path.”

  “I could disrupt their progress. If it would help?” Lors offered. “It would be relatively easy to transport myself in and break the lines. If you need more time.”

  “Thank you,” the Commander replied. “But no. We’re as ready as we can be and you’ve both taken enough of a risk. You should rest. I’ll need you before the day is out.”

  The explosions started several hours before dawn. Distant concussions that reverberated off the pass, lighting up the predawn in tall orange clouds of smoke and fire. Gradually they got closer, the smell of the powder carried along by the wind. Finally, the last wall of wreckage was blown away in a h
uge ball of heavy sulphurous smoke. As the light picked up a clear wide path could be made out through hundreds of feet of wreckage and along this pathway came Segat’s legions.

  The rhythmic thrum of tens of thousands of feet drifted towards The Hand. Beating drums kept time and brazen blasts of horns cut the air announcing the approach. The Hand’s own trumpets called out alerting the fortresses. The unhurried advance continued as battalion upon battalion of men marched out from the pathway forming deep lines that stretched the full width of the pass. Arrayed behind them were the huge powder weapons Kara had spoken of, each pulled along by lines of slaves, who swayed and stepped in unison as they heaved the enormous loads.

  The Commander registered every aspect of their deployment and weaponry, discussing tactics and possible lines of attack with his captains. Gattick, Carrick and Gwen along with every Adept and Major Talent on the wall searched the masses for members of The Ildran Order. It soon became evident that they had arranged themselves similarly into defensive units, each taking on a specified role within the group. Some distance behind the front lines huge siege towers were being wheeled into place, their unwieldy frames shuddering as they were moved.

  The advance stopped several hundred feet from the walls of The Hand. The drums continued to beat and when they finally ceased a great cry went up from Segat’s forces.

  “Look at them?” Kara said in disbelief.

  “And there,” Carrick pointed. “Segat’s standards. He’s actually here.”

  Gattick grunted. “His Imperial Highness wishes to see our downfall for himself.”

  “…out of long bow range,” the Commander was saying. “But in our powder weapons range. They clearly don’t know we have them. Pass the word to aim for those massive bombardment weapons. If those things hit the wall it’ll be turned to rubble.”

  “I can’t see Segat,” Gattick said putting down his telescope.

  “He’ll be there,” Carrick assured dryly, “if only to gloat.”

  Activity had already started up in Segat’s ranks around the huge powder weapons. There was a booming detonation from one and it could clearly be seen to roll back. They heard the projectile seconds before it struck the wall some distance north of them. The impact smashed into the stone with such force it could be felt for hundreds of feet in either direction. It was followed by a second boom as another projectile screamed towards them. The men and women on the wall were alarmed, some touched by the first hints of panic. Group captains had to work to keep them in order and hold their nerve. The Commander gave the word and the Amarian powder weapons began firing. Shot after shot rang out from the full length of the wall. Segat's forces reacted with their smaller powder fire, the main bombardment weapons continuing at regular intervals. The Talents on the wall also responded using their abilities in attempts to deflect or shatter the incoming projectiles as they hammered huge chunks out of the massive defences. They were finding it difficult to concentrate as noise, smoke and shouts filled the air. The smaller stone spheres did little more than smash on impact, spraying shards in all directions but the huge iron balls of the bombardment weapons were devastating. The ones that hit near the wall’s top brought down sections of the battlements and soldiers fell to their deaths tumbling with the masonry.

  “That bombardment must be stopped,” the Commander shouted, taking cover with Gattick and the others when another projectile hit close by. “They clearly can’t fire them often or they will over heat but we can’t allow them to continue. The Hand will not survive this onslaught. Chancellor what can your people do?”

  Gattick thought, willing himself to stop flinching every time the wall was struck. “Our combin…” he ducked as another hit and then had to raise his voice to be heard. “Our combined groups might be able to shatter the carriages they’re on but I’ve no doubt their Talents are ready for that. Carrick just how much energy can you channel.”

  “Let’s see,” he replied struggling to make himself heard over the noise and explosions. “Gwen could you distract any Talents they’ve got in place and give me a shot?”

  “I can do that,” she shouted.

  Kara managed to join them, throwing herself into the cover of the battlements.

  “What are you doing up here?’ the Commander demanded. “You should be below until we need you!”

  “You need me now,” she shouted back over the noise. “Commander, can you make up small packs of powder and can those chords be cut to burn for only a short time?”

  The Commander was momentarily at a loss until he saw Lors scrambling over to them. “Yes,” he said realising her idea. He turned to one of his aides. “Take these two down below and give them any help they need. Be quick,” he shouted to Kara and Lors and ducked as another impact shook the wall.

  Carrick had positioned himself with some cover but in sight of one of the bombardment weapons. Focusing his will, he drew on the field heavily. Gwen focused her mind and began searching out the Talents guarding the weapon.

  “Ready?” Carrick shouted.

  “Go for it.”

  Gwen’s subtle search turned into a savage attack on the mind of the Talent shielding the huge powder weapon. The two minds locked in a fierce struggle. Fighting his natural urge to remain behind cover Carrick stood amidst the deafening chaos. His raised staff flared. Men nearby ran for cover, shielding their eyes. He brought his staff round, found his target and released. The beam slashed through the smoke slamming into the huge powder weapon, the effect was instant. The super-heated metal was vulnerable and the huge iron tube ruptured showering the men around it.

  “Again?” Carrick shouted as he took cover.

  “One more,” Gwen replied pulling herself together and peering over the battlements as the hail of iron and stone continued to fill the air. Finding the next mark, she took cover and focused. The weapon fired, the impact shook the wall and a damaged section of it collapsed. Carrick willed himself to stand. Exposed to the deadly storm he released the gathered potential. Yet again the ragged beam lit up the smoke filed air and blew the carriage and powder weapon apart.

  Carrick dropped to the floor, resting against his sister as the onslaught continued. The noise was becoming unbearable.

  “That was hard going!” he shouted

  “What did you say!”

  “I said-that-was-hard-going!”

  Too exhausted to laugh Gwen waved a hand vaguely at him. Carrick laid his staff across his legs and looked along the wall. He caught sight of The Commander. He was shouting, gesturing towards the cannon and then at them. Two soldiers sprinted towards them almost falling over them in their haste to grab hold and literally drag them clear. The air was filled with the scream of an incoming projectile. That section of the battlements erupted sending stone flying in all directions.

  The repeated fire from the Amarian powder weapons had taken a toll on the Ildran forces. The legions had been swiftly moved, their commander countering the mistake of underestimating The Amarians but not before hundreds of his men and women were killed or injured. But he couldn’t move the huge bombardment weapons, although slow to reload and needing time to cool, they were having a devastating impact on The Hand. To move them back would lessen their effectiveness, despite the losses. The Ildrans re-deployed and increased the protection on their main powder weapons. It was becoming difficult for both sides to aim with any accuracy as the air filled with smoke and fumes.

  Projectile fire continued. Carrick and Gwen headed for the most damaged part of the wall in an attempt to take out more of the big bombardment weapons. Several other Talents had joined them to support the effort. Other groups of Talents were working together to damage or disrupt as much of the Ildran artillery as they could. But it was clear, even suffering their losses, that the Ildran weapons would breach the wall if they weren’t stopped completely.

  Kara and Lors had their packs. The newly created Powder Division had listened to their description, working with all haste. Now they made their way up onto the walls
. The long climb up the steps never prepared the senses for the barrage of sound, light and smells that hit them as they reached the top.

  “How accurate do you think you can be?” Kara tried to make her self-heard over the noise as they ducked their way to the protection of the battlements.

  “I have a good idea of where they are. The smoke doesn’t block my abilities!” Lors called back.

  “Good! Let’s make every one count.”

  Despite the chaos the Commander could still tell when Lors and Kara had set to work. Large detonations started going off at regular points along The Ildran line. The assault on the walls faltered and the break between each impact grew. Fearing a return of tactics, he had the Talents monitoring for any jump signatures. The Master Speakers and Chanters had heavily shielded the wall against this but he wasn’t going to take any risks now. The Ildran bombardment stopped and he gave the order to cease-fire. His powder supplies were running low and it wouldn’t be long before the supply was exhausted. Amaria wasn’t fully set up to produce the huge quantities of sulphur and nitre needed for a protracted exchange and as expected reports arrived that projectile fire had ceased on parts of the wall. Other sounds previously drowned out now made their way to the ear: falling rubble, coughs and cries, the sound of the wind and distant commands being barked. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of powder. Men and Talents held cloths over their mouths and noses trying not to breathe in the heavy fumes. Thankfully the wind was in their favour and most of the smoke was being blown southerly, this of course also helped the Ildrans. The Commander hoped for a wind change to blow the sulphurous clouds directly over the enemy. He considered asking Gattick if he could repeat the earlier trick with the cloudbank but knew from his reports that the Amar Talents were exhausted and had taken losses. He was also aware that he’d now played all of his cards.

  The uneasy quiet that followed gave his captains chance to take stock and reorganise. Hasty repairs began, reinforcements were brought in, soldiers and equipment were redeployed and the Talents reorganised as best they could.

 

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