The Cloven Land Trilogy

by Simon Kewin

She threw herself at him then, thinking to punch him, kick him, hurt him. She didn't get close. Some barrier stopped her and she could only stand there, flailing uselessly at thin air.

  “We may meet again at the White City,” said Charis. “If you live that long. If not, farewell. And thank you for bringing us what we needed.”

  Charis stepped away to give the other two dragonriders their orders. Nox rose from his knees and, not looking at Cait, stepped backward to stand beside her, head bowed.

  “What the hell was that?” she spat at him. She was furious now, didn't care who heard. “You turn me over to them as soon as you can?”

  “Don't be an idiot,” replied Nox in a conspiratorial voice. “I was trying to gain an advantage. I wasn't turning you over.”

  “Really? It damn well looked like it to me.”

  “Do I really have to keep explaining this to you?”

  “No, Nox. You don't have to explain anything.”

  The Duke of Greygyle appeared in the half-light, pushed forward by the rider who had gone to fetch him. He stumbled toward Charis, then bowed low and stood with his head down. Charis completed giving his instructions to the riders then turned his attention to the Duke.

  Cait couldn't understand the words Charis spoke but the venom in his voice was obvious. He clearly blamed Greygyle for harbouring Cait and Nox. The tirade lasted several minutes, during which time Greygyle continued to stare at the ground, unmoving.

  Eventually, when Charis was complete, Greygyle bowed as if agreeing with everything that had been said. Charis cast a final glance back at Cait, then strode away into the night, not looking back.

  When he was gone, Greygyle flared a light of his own. His face was ugly with fury. Not speaking, he walked directly up to Lugg and struck him hard with the back of his hand, dashing the boy to the ground.

  Lugg sprang up and prepared to launch himself at his father. But one of the riders intervened, putting himself between Lugg and Greygyle, one hand on the pommel of his sword.

  Greygyle turned away from Lugg. “And you, Lord Albion. You betrayed my hospitality. You betrayed me. You've placed me in a very difficult situation.”

  “Not as difficult as my situation,” said Nox.

  “Even so. I hope they take you to pieces when they get you to the White City. I hope they do so slowly in payment for what you have done here.”

  Greygyle glanced at Cait. He looked like he was about to say something to her, too, but then thought better of it. Scowling, he left for the palace, the dragonrider who had brought him following closely behind, sword drawn as if shepherding a prisoner who might bolt at any moment.

  The two remaining guards stood in discussion for a moment, one giving instructions to the other. Cait kneeled beside Lugg. Blood flowed from the side of his mouth. Another wound to add to his collection. She tore a strip from her ridiculous white gown and handed it to him to press onto the cut. He thanked her with a nod of his head.

  “What were they saying?” she asked Nox. “What will happen to Greygyle?”

  “Difficult to say,” said Nox. “He may survive. He may be stripped of his land. He may simply be denied supplies of Spirit and left to wither and fade.”

  “He blames us.”

  “He's right to,” said Nox. “Isn't that why we're here?”

  “Of course. Yes. What else did Charis say?”

  “He's commandeered Greygyle's prize horses. They're to take us back to the An with all speed. The dragonriders will run and only those horses will be able to keep up. The King wants us in the White City tomorrow. Wants you, specifically.”

  “Right. Great.”

  “What's the problem?” said Nox. “We are trying to get to the White City, aren't we?”

  “Not like this.”

  The rider giving the instructions nodded his head to the other and marched off into the night, heading for the fairy-lights of the house. The other planted his feet and stood, sword drawn as if expecting them to flee at any moment.

  Could they escape with only one rider left to watch them? Somehow she didn't think she could work magic powerful enough to freeze or destroy the creature. She tried searching into the rider's mind for a speck of memory she could work with, but got nowhere. There was no mote of light in that void.

  “I really wasn't betraying you,” said Nox quietly.

  She didn't reply for a moment. “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “You said two of us came through. You didn't tell them about Ran. I was just mad at you. Mad and scared.”

  Something of Nox's cockiness returned. “Well, as long as you admit you're mad, I'm happy.”

  Cait ignored his sarcasm and extended her senses into the darkness. She could feel the army beginning to mobilise. Groups of undain were sweeping away from the palace with unearthly speed, heading west. She felt the raging void that was Charis departing with them. Without him, the darkness of the night seemed almost bright. Did Charis really believe some army was about to come through the stone circle? It wouldn't take him long to discover there was no threat.

  “We have to do something,” she whispered to Nox, “We have to get away.”

  Nox hadn't moved. He still spoke in a low voice, always watching their dragonrider guard. “We'd have no chance against him. Bullets, magic, nothing can touch them. Believe me. Perhaps once we're on the horses we can get away somehow. Await our moment.”

  Cait frowned. The urge to fight, scream, do something was overwhelming. But she was also aware that the rider would happily kill Nox and Lugg if he had to. She couldn't endanger them, not again.

  In that moment of indecision it was Lugg who acted. He'd been lurking in the shadows, nursing his wound. But suddenly he sprang forward, screaming with fury. He charged at the dragonrider, the ancient sword held forward as if he'd put all his strength into this one, desperate act.

  For the briefest moment the rider didn't react, and Cait thought Lugg might hit home. Then the rider swung his great blade, scything it through the air. She thought he was going to kill Lugg with that single blow, but instead the rider hit the boy with the flat of his sword, swatting him sideways.

  Lugg landed in a crumpled heap. The rider stepped over to him, kicking the boy's legs to see if he got a reaction. Lugg didn't move. The rider knelt to push Lugg onto his back. Cait expected to see a wound, pooling blood on the ground.

  Instead, Lugg came to life. With a cry of desperation he swung the sword he still carried, aiming it at the dragonrider's head. She knew it was futile. The rider's magical defences, his superhuman reactions, would protect him. Even if Lugg struck, he surely wasn't strong enough to do any real damage.

  But, incredibly, the blade bit, and the dragonrider flew backward through the air, like some superpowered kill in a computer game.

  The rider shrieked in agony. As he crashed to the ground, the swirling lines on his face burned a furious red, a fire raging through them. Smoke coiled off his head and a sickening smell of singed flesh filled the air.

  Cait stepped backward in horror. The rider clawed at his skin as he flailed, flames licking him. He managed to rise to his knees, features invisible in the fire, then crashed to the ground. He twitched once and lay still. The red fire about his head faded and died but dirty smoke coiled off him.

  For a moment no one moved. Lugg, still lying on the ground, seemed as astonished as everyone at what had happened.

  “How did you do that?” asked Cait.

  “I just hit him with the sword,” said Lugg. “I didn't think it was going to work.”

  A light of hope flared within her. Charis, clearly, hadn't even considered it possible they could defeat one of the riders. Now they were alone. Now they could get away.

  She was about to haul Lugg up to his feet when she heard the sound of horses approaching at speed. She readied what threads of magic she could muster, expecting Charis to materialise from the darkness at any moment. But instead it was the other wyrm lord riding Greygyle's eight-legged steed, the
two six-legged beasts pounding along behind. All the horses were saddled, ready to whisk them eastward to the An.

  The rider, taking in the scene, pulled the horse to a halt and slid to the ground. Not even breaking stride he leaped toward Lugg, sword swinging. Once again, the boy raised the ancient blade. This time the tip was visibly shaking as Lugg struggled to hold its weight.

  She had to do something, the rider would surely kill the boy. She could think only of unleashing more ice. She had to at least try. She summoned the cold from inside herself, preparing to hurl it at the undain. Working the spell was easier than it had been. Each time she tried it was easier. Was that good or bad? No time to consider now. She put all her strength into the magic, desperate to stop the rider before he reached Lugg.

  The cold storm raged within her. The pains in her stomach grew but they were bearable. When she could contain the fury no more she hurled it at the rider. At the same time, Nox fired his gun, two shots and then a third.

  The icy blast struck the rider square in the back. He staggered, but regained his balance. The black lines around his head flared as if they were absorbing the magic. Channelling it. Then they returned to normal. The undain glanced backward, creamy eyeballs rotating horribly in their sockets. Whether Nox's bullets had struck him or not she couldn't tell.

  The rider turned away, clearly not considering her or Nox a threat. He towered over Lugg. With a swift movement he kicked away the sword Lugg held with an armoured boot, sending it spinning into the darkness.

  Lugg tried to crawl backward, away from his attacker. The fear on his face was terrible, his eyes wide and panicky. Nox fired again, aiming for the rider's head. Once again it had no effect. The rider held his sword over Lugg and prepared to deliver the killing blow. His great sword arced downward.

  There was a flash of movement in the shadows to Cait's left. For a moment she thought Charis had returned after all. Then she glimpsed a tattooed arm and it was Ran, hurling himself at the giant undain dragonrider. In his hands he wielded Lugg's sword.

  Ran dashed the undain's sword-blow aside with his own blade, a jarring metallic clang ringing in the air. Ran whirled away. He danced around the giant undain, blade darting in and out, seeking an opening. Where Lugg's movements had been clumsy, Ran's were sure and elegant. But the undain rider was twice Ran's size and many times stronger. His reach was far greater, too, and suddenly it was Ran on the defensive, jumping and wheeling out of the way as the undain rider scythed his blade from side to side.

  For a moment the two dragonriders, human and undain, circled each other, testing each other's defences. Then the undain struck, blade moving too rapidly for Cait to even see. Ran's back arched like a cat's to avoid the blow. Not quickly enough. The blade caught his side and he crumpled to all fours, all grace suddenly lost. The undain lunged immediately to finish him off.

  A shout of warning rose in Cait's throat as the great blade came down. Only then did Ran's intention became clear. As the undain swung, Ran rolled aside and in a single fluid motion leaped to his feet. The manoeuvre placed him inside the arc of the undain's sword, too close for it to hit him. Ran's own blade jabbed upward.

  The undain flinched backward but it was too late. With a sickening crunch, Ran's sword struck.

  As before, the undain was hurled backward with explosive force. The lines on his head flared livid red and burst into flame. The rider screamed and crashed to the ground, beating at his own face to extinguish the sudden fire. In a moment he stopped moving, no more than a smoking lump on the ground.

  Everything went dark as the fire died. Cait worked a small, pearly light while Nox switched on his torch.

  Ran, crouched in a cat-like stance, sword held at the ready, unfolded and stood. He nodded to Cait and Nox as if he'd simply bumped into them in the street, then reached down to offer Lugg a hand.

  Astonishment lit up the boy's face. Astonishment and something else, too. He looked at Ran with something like awe. Cait had seen that look before, usually when one of her friends got within touching-distance of a pop star.

  Ran pulled Lugg to his feet and murmured words to him, holding him by the arm as he did so. Whatever Ran's words were, they made Lugg glow with delight.

  “We have to get away from here,” said Cait. “They'll know magic's been used even if they didn't hear. That demon will be back for us.”

  “The horses,” said Lugg. “We'll take the horses. They can run like the wind. You don't want to know how many real horses my father butchered to create them.”

  The horses bridled and reared at the smouldering bodies of the two giant undain. Despite their nature they clearly retained normal horse instincts.

  Lugg took their reins, stroking their bucking necks. The horses calmed at the familiar touch but their ears continued to swivel. Lugg led them forward, talking to them all the time.

  Like horses back home, their muscled bodies and huge hindquarters ended in delicate ankles that made them look almost awkward. It would surely be different when they ran. They were creatures of speed: beasts that only made sense in full gallop. Especially the nearest one with its eight powerful legs. The magnificent animal towered above Cait. It stamped on the forest floor to be away, eyes as pure white as the rest of it. It could have torn itself away with ease and thundered off, but it tolerated Lugg's reassuring presence.

  “Can you ride?” Nox said to Cait.

  The fabulous horse was a long way from the plodding pony she'd once sat on. “I'll manage.”

  She heard a shout of rage, and it took her a moment to understand that it wasn't a normal sound. None of the others had heard it; she'd felt it with her mind. Charis. He'd realised what had happened. Realised his mistake. He'd return at any moment in a blaze of fury. Half the army were continuing to race westward, but the other half, Charis at its head, was flying back to the palace.

  Ran put his hand to the eight-legged beast's muzzle, stroking the creature's head, murmuring to it. Then he stepped around and leaped onto its back, sitting tall and proud. Nox took one of the six-legged horses, perhaps the one he'd ridden in the hunt. Lugg hesitated. They had only three horses for four people.

  “Ran,” said Cait, “Can that horse carry two?”

  They didn't have to know she couldn't ride. She gesticulated to him to convey her meaning. Ran nodded and reached down a hand for her. The horse's back was wide and smooth, easily big enough for both of them. Ran gave her the saddle and positioned himself behind her, feet sharing the stirrups. She clutched the reins and the scratchy hair of the horse's mane, the ground scarily distant. Lugg climbed on to the other horse.

  “They're coming for us,” said Cait. “We have to get going.”

  “Which way?” said Nox.

  “North,” called Lugg. “Follow me.”

  The horses leaped into motion, racing from the lights of the undain palace. Air streamed into Cait's face as the horse's eight legs clattered faster and faster, rattling her and making her bite her tongue. You had to move with the horse, she remembered that much from her brief lesson. It was better for rider and mount. She tried to relax, let her body flow with the creature's movements. It didn't help much; she kept getting the rhythm wrong and falling when she should have been rising.

  They picked up more and more speed, trees and hedges flashing by in the darkness. Her gown gave her little insulation from the rush of cold night air. She no longer bothered to maintain the werelight. As well as their extra limbs and their prodigious speed, the undain horses seemed to have been imbued with some extra sense that allowed them to run in the dark. More than once they flew over an invisible hedge or ditch, Cait struggling to suppress a cry of alarm as she was lifted from the horse's back. Ran, saying nothing, took hold of her robe to help keep her on the horse. If it had been Nox she'd have objected, but the dragonrider's reassuring grip was welcome, as was the warmth of his body behind hers.

  The world became a blur of speed: glimpses of trees and hedges and walls as they thundered forward. She quest
ed with her mind into the darkness, seeking for the pursuing undain. She didn't have to look hard. They were a vast shadow behind them, like storm clouds massed on the horizon, rolling forward with terrible speed. Could the horses outrun them? Even if they could, where were they going to run to? They couldn't keep going forever.

  “Where are we heading?” she shouted, but her words were whipped away by the streaming wind. She switched to using magic, finding the little lights in the darkness that represented Nox, Ran and Lugg. She called to them, repeating her question.

  Nox, glancing over at her from atop his lurching mount, frowned, as if resenting the intrusion. But Lugg replied. He was probably used to magical communication.

  The wyrm roads. Perhaps with Ran here we can make them work.

  The wyrm roads? she asked. Where are they? What are they?

  You've seen them already. The rider's ancient pathways. They're our only hope.

  How far?

  Several hours, even at this speed.

  Ran did something with his legs and the horse accelerated even more, surging forward across the landscape with dizzying speed.

  The journey seemed to last forever. Pain jarred through her seat and back with each stride, despite all her efforts to move in time with the horse's gait. She gritted her teeth and clung on, the world filled with the huffing of the horses, the thunder of their hooves and the sweet smell of their sweat. After an hour or so a full-moon rose, impossibly large on the horizon. It shone like a vast spotlight picking them out. The white flanks of the horses glowed. It seemed they flew through a sea of moonlight, the hard surfaces of ground and trees vague and distant.

  The undain were still out there, their massing fury clear, but they were getting no closer. For the moment there was nothing she could do.

  At one point she heard a whispering presence in her mind, very weak. She'd felt something similar before, when the Bone Harvesters came and she'd had the weird sensation of a ghost passing through her mind. Was she under attack? Was this Charis or one of the other undain lords creeping into her thoughts? With an effort she cast the presence away, refusing to allow it inside her. She waited for it to attack again, for its tendrils to come creeping through the night to find her. But there was nothing. Perhaps she'd banished it, or perhaps she was exhausted and imagining spectres that weren't there. She put it out of her mind, and concentrated on moving with the lurching horse beneath her, trying in vain to ease the agonies pounding through her.