High Mage Amasa led the way as he was most familiar with the city. He had cast a cloaking spell to help conceal our movements, but with so many Master Sorcerers roaming about we couldn’t rely on the spell completely.
The army had traveled toward Hol with only minor harassment from the enemy. That was a puzzle because they had to know of our approach. Why not try to attack from the get go? I assumed they felt confident in their abilities, or worried an attack would make them susceptible to some trick on our part.
Let them worry. Their careful attitude had made it easier when we split off from the main force undetected earlier in the day.
Hol looked just as bad as the models had shown. The high walls that once surrounded the city still stood in spots, but wide gaps filled with debris from the gray granite of those walls and outer buildings blasted away were more common. I noticed that the only part of the gatehouse remaining was the outward facing wall covered with cracks. It could topple at any moment.
Once inside the city, we saw that most structures had suffered similar fates. None were unscathed. Many were nothing more than piles of wood and stone.
A cool wind blew about Turine’s capital. It seemed to strengthen as we journeyed inward and in spots, swirled. I didn’t know enough about weather or sorcery to confirm, but I had a feeling the uniqueness of the wind was related to the artifact.
Besides carrying smaller pieces of debris and kicking up bits of ash, the wind brought with it the smell of death. Burning death to be more specific. Though I couldn’t see smoke or fires present inside the city, it smelled like the funeral pyres I had stood before so many times after a great battle.
I shook off those thoughts before I became lost in them and walked up to High Mage Amasa as he rested against the remains of a wall that might have been part of a tavern. He spoke with High Mage Datan in low tones. Their conversation ended once I got close.
“Yes?” Amasa asked, almost bothered by my presence.
“How much longer?’
“Not long. Less than an hour at our current pace,” he huffed.
I frowned seeing him put almost all his weight on the wall he leaned against. Despite the cool air, sweat beaded his brow.
“You all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s just because we’re in proximity to the artifact. We expected it to grow stronger, but the power that it’s radiating is much different than even we considered. I have to adjust the concealment spell almost constantly.”
I understood. We had to stop twice already so those with a resistance could reduce the side effects on our regular members. Even I suffered a skull-piercing headache.
“Hamath will take point from here on then.”
The High Mage’s eyes narrowed. “That won’t be necessary, I—”
“You will support his unit, cloaking them only. That should make it easier for you to maintain your strength and not become so affected by the artifact. High Mage Datan will use a lesser spell on us, just enough to confuse rather than conceal.”
Amasa pushed himself off the wall and stood taller. He had me by at least two inches, not that it made a bit of difference in what I thought of him.
“We are the experts on the artifact, and the city for that matter.”
“And I’m the expert on running missions like this. I’ve done this for a decade while people like you hid behind our reserves telling Balak it wasn’t time to get involved yet. Besides, Balak instructed you both this was my mission. I’ll defer to you on certain matters, but ultimately, what we do and how we do it is my call. Understood?”
“Do you realize how much power I could harness as close as we are to the artifact?”
He asked the question softly.
I took a step closer. “Do you realize how many of the people I killed were Master Sorcerers? All were better prepared than you are right now. You’re struggling as we get closer to the artifact.”
“That’s only because I’m doing too many things at once in a new environment. Once I focus on the artifact, things will be different.”
“We have to get the artifact first. Just understand that by the time you got halfway through a spell, my knife would be in your throat.”
His face twitched. That was good. He understood. Datan next to him seemed to be waiting on Amasa to respond. That was also good. He wasn’t going to try something stupid on his own.
“Now, can we get back to the task at hand? Remember, we are on the same side.” I paused. “Or if you must, we can keep up with this contest of measuring what’s between our legs.”
I smiled, waiting.
After a moment, Amasa grunted. “We are wasting time.”
He walked away, and after his back was to me, I relaxed. Slightly.
I glanced around at the other units in the area. Most were keeping a lookout, making sure no one sneaked up on us as we rested. However, a few individuals, those who had the most experience under their belt, had eyes on me. Dekar, Ira, Hamath wore grim looks.
Ira inclined his head in a silent question. I nodded that things were all right. For now.
I gave the signal for us to move out.
* * *
We came across the enemy roughly two blocks from the Sky Tower. We assumed they were meant to act as a lookout for others, but if so, they had done a poor job, not noticing us until we were practically on top of them.
We moved fast and struck hard.
There were three Master Sorcerers and several other lesser sorcerers among them. My unit and Hamath’s singled out the closest Master Sorcerer. We confused her with a charge from multiple angles.
Three soldiers died. One from my unit. Two from Hamath’s.
But their sacrificed lives weren’t in vain. I provided the killing blow, a dagger through the woman’s heart.
I took a hit myself in the process. My arm ached where I fell from the brunt of the concussive blast she threw at me.
People think that a resistance to sorcery is synonymous with immunity. I can attest that has never been the case, though it does appear that way when someone with a particularly strong resistance combats lesser sorcerers. Against Master Sorcerers however, any attack hurts tremendously.
Some could kill.
An arcing line of blue lightning raced toward me from my left as more of the enemy entered the field. I dove to the side, and the lightning from another Master Sorcerer struck the stone I had leaned against. After the strike, it no longer stood.
“You all right?” I heard someone shout.
It sounded like Boaz. I wasn’t sure. Too many voices were yelling or shouting, Geneshan and Turine alike. Some yelled orders, but most just yelled.
I threw my arm forward. “Move out! Now!”
My voice carried over the chaos of sorcery from the two remaining Geneshan sorcerers as well as our two High Mages. Thankfully, I had inherited a booming set of vocals from my father. I had refined them over the years from yelling over the cacophony of battle.
My unit ran forward, splitting into three small squads of four. I dove as another bolt of lightning came at me, striking the ground where I had been a moment before. I crawled the last few feet forward to take shelter behind a low pile of debris.
“Gods, Tyrus. He’s targeting you specifically,” said Boaz.
The stress in his voice was thick. I didn’t blame him. I had kept him close to me for safety. Inadvertently, I had placed him in more danger.
“Probably has something to do with me killing the other one a few moments ago,” I said.
A low hum sounded above. I looked to the sky as a ball of blue light hung in the air.
“Spread out!” I yelled.
The ball dropped, spreading out like a blanket as it fell. We dispersed in various directions, running and scrambling, then diving. The blanket of blue light covered an area approximately thirty feet in diam
eter. Where it touched, smoke rose from an intense heat. The fumes of scorching rock worked its way into my nostrils, turning my already uneasy stomach.
I peeled myself off the ground and looked to the Master Sorcerer. He was some hundred feet away and closing in with quick, deliberate steps. He had a small, barely perceptible globe of protection around his person. I didn’t need to see the details of his face to confirm the rage he so clearly wore in every step he took.
“Molak-be-damned,” I muttered, risking a glance toward the body of the dead woman not more than fifty feet behind me.
I turned my attention back to the Master Sorcerer. He sent half a dozen small, rapid, balls of blue fire. I jumped aside to avoid them.
The Master Sorcerer yelled, magnifying his voice. “You’ll die for what you did to her!”
Molak-be-damned, he was pissed.
Based on the venom in his voice, the anger wasn’t because I killed his ally. The woman must have been a sister. It was common for siblings to share a talent for power after all.
He sprinted at me with more balls of fire streaming from his hands while his robes billowed behind him.
That sprint took me off guard more than the fire. It was so unlike a Master Sorcerer. Magic-users did not often place themselves in the middle of action. Most preferred to affect things from a distance. But even when a battle dictated they get more intimately involved, they rarely moved with reckless abandon.
I swore again.
Maybe the woman had been his lover or wife.
That bit deep.
Woman or man, I never enjoyed killing. But woman or man, I wouldn’t hesitate ending a person’s life if mine or my friends and family’s were endangered. There was no question I did the right thing by killing the woman, but I also felt sorry for the raging man.
A web of blue lightning targeted me next.
The man’s continued attempts to kill me dampened any shred of sympathy I had for him. I ran in the opposite direction of the pursuing web, ducking behind another pile of stone and wood.
However, my hiding spot didn’t work as well as it had before.
Blue light blinded me as the web wrapped around my body. It gave off a tremendous heat. The smell of searing leather filled my nostrils as the sorcery scalded my armor and clothing. Hints of burning hair came next.
I remained calm, despite the implications. Sorcery of that strength would have killed most people instantly.
I took a deep breath, made myself into a ball, and focused on the blue light binding me, hoping that I could magnify my resistance. I don’t know if what I did worked or the spell was just not solidly put together, but the heat subsided and the bonds fell away.
I tried to get my feet under me while pushing myself away from the debris, but I was too slow. Something struck me hard in the back between my shoulder blades.
The impact sent thousands of little jolts through my body. I grunted while struggling to take in air.
A flash moved across my peripheral, but I was again too slow. The boot of the Master Sorcerer connected with the side of my head. The blow flipped me onto my back.
My head spun.
The Master Sorcerer stood over me, seething. He held a long, thin knife in his hand. He either wanted my death to be personal or he had finally understood my resistance to sorcery.
Perhaps both.
It wasn’t the first time in my life as a soldier, I wished I also had a resistance to steel.
He said something in Geneshan, but his accent was thick and his anger muffled his speech. I did catch what I thought was a name and the Geneshan word for love. Then he pulled his arm back for the killing blow.
I didn’t have much strength at the moment to defend myself. Resisting sorcery was not without consequence. Neither was taking a kick to the head. But Molak-be-damned, if I was going to just lay there.
My hand went to the hilt of the dagger at my waist as I moved my other arm under me for leverage. If it was the end for me, I wanted to take him down too.
More than half a dozen shadows came out of nowhere. The shadows belonged to soldiers. They slammed into the Master Sorcerer just as he drove his blade down.
They fell in a pile.
I sat up while eying the swarming mass. Closed fists, knees, and boots rained down unto the convulsing Geneshan sorcerer at the bottom.
Then a hand rose up higher than the rest. It held a dagger. It descended.
The fighting stopped, and the pile broke apart.
Each of the soldiers was a member of my unit. They breathed heavily while staring at the dead Master Sorcerer. Reuma was at the man’s head, inches from where the hilt of the dagger, her dagger, protruded from the man’s eye socket.
She looked at me. “You all right?”
I nodded, sitting taller. My strength was returning, and the pounding in my head lessened. “Never better. Just glad to see that my plan of distracting him for you lot worked.”
Ira snorted. “If you were any more full of crap, Ty, it’d be coming out your ears.”
“Already coming out his mouth,” added Dekar.
I snorted as Ira slapped his brother on the shoulder. It was rare for Dekar to take a good setup like that.
The rest of my unit grinned.
“Where are Saba and Tovit?” I asked while taking stock of those in my unit around me.
I regretted the question the moment I asked it. I already knew the answer. Yet it pained me all the same when Boaz hung his head and said, “Dead.”
Molak-be-damned.
I looked over the rubble we hid behind to see.
Hamath ran toward me. The rest of his unit hot on his heels.
“Tyrus!” he raised his voice as he got closer.
I raised a hand. “I’m fine.”
He looked relieved as he jumped down with us. His unit stopped short and kept a look out for more danger.
I glanced around and saw the survivors from other units doing the same.
We were down a third in numbers.
Hamath spoke, gesturing to the Master Sorcerer “What was that all about? I’ve never seen one that reckless.”
I pointed to the woman I killed earlier. “I think that might have been his wife.”
“Ah.” He addressed my unit. “I’m glad you were around. I had too much going on to drop everything and save his sorry rear yet again.”
He said the last comment with a tight smile. He offered a hand and helped me to my feet.
“I just think you’re getting old and making excuses to cover the fact that you’re slowing down.”
It felt good to be giving each other a hard time again.
No. It felt right.
He acknowledged the jest. “Prax-be-damned if we’re all not getting old Tyrus.”
That admission surprised me.
“Having second thoughts about all this?” I asked with a gesture to our small battlefield.
For a moment, I thought I had him.
I thought he might admit that war was a crap thing and that no good could come from it. I thought the person I once believed him to be might shine through again, rather than just offer me the glimpse I had gotten a moment earlier.
His demeanor changed. “Nah. Old or not, this is the fun stuff.”
He got his unit moving away from mine, toward Amasa and Datan, some fifty yards away. The members of the other surviving units did the same.
I gestured for my unit to join the others.
I was the last to leave the rubble around the two dead Master Sorcerers. Boaz was a step ahead of me.
He looked over his shoulder. “Do you believe what Hamath believes?”
“What’s that?”
“That this is the fun stuff?”
“Gods, no. Never did understand that point of view on war.”
�
��Then what do you believe this all is.”
I shook my head. “It’s just surviving.” I stepped over a soldier from one of the other units, a private, whose name was already lost to me. “And sometimes dying, I guess. Just depends where your luck falls.”
Boaz cleared his throat as if hesitant to say what he felt. “I feel like I’ve been pretty lucky to make it this far.”
Me too, I thought. Molak only knew if that luck would hold. I thought of my kids and gods-be-damned if I didn’t almost say a prayer that my luck held. Almost.
Walking toward the High Mages, I heard the echoes of battle beginning outside what remained of Hol’s walls. Balak’s army had met the main Geneshan force.
CHAPTER 39
From the top of a low mountain, near the back opening of a small cave where they planned to make their last stand, Ava looked on to the distant place she had briefly called home.
We were so close to reaching you, Big Brother.
She could have tried to keep pushing on toward Hol as many wanted, but given the proximity of the approaching Geneshan force hounding them, she knew the effort would have been pointless. Outnumbered and with little cover, they’d be slaughtered, or worse, taken prisoner and slaughtered later as a sacrifice to Beel.
At least here, we have a chance, albeit a tiny one, to survive. If nothing else, we’re assured to bloody them up far better with the high ground and the traps we’ve laid.
Staring out at Hol seemed like something out of a dream. The last time she had seen the city was before the eruptions, when the Sky Tower stood tall and bright above the high buildings and great keep where the king resided. It was unsettling not to see the tower’s white marble any longer. She was sure that if she actually made it into the city, she’d find a pile of rubble where the tower once stood.
Shifting her gaze to her left, she saw that the great keep was close to suffering a similar fate. Given the proximity to the tower, she was surprised any part of it stood at all.
No building looked untouched by destruction. Many didn’t look like buildings at all. Just piles of rock and wood.
Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three Page 35