Pan Taros, Taros Ranvok and Tored stood on the platform. Pan Taros looked ashen and his eyes were focused inward.
Hemlock stood close to the front of the stage, a position of honor. Beside her were Safreon and Gwineval. Merit was standing on a stairway which led up to the stage, near the spot they had stood during the encounter with the Witch that had recently occurred in this hall.
Hemlock saw Taros Ranvok rise and move to the front of the stage. She could see a change in him. He had effectively assumed leadership of the Tanna Varran tribes from his father. He seemed to be rising to that challenge rather than shrinking in the face of it. His demeanor was confident as he began to address the crowd.
"Welcome, Citizens. Warriors and civilians, I address you today in a time of war. My father, Pan Taros, has appointed me as temporary leader, to see us through this crisis. We look forward to a day when we can return to the path of gentle wisdom that he has set for us."
Taros Ranvok looked back at his father reverently, but Pan Taros did not recognize the gesture. Whether he was nonsensical or bitter was unclear to Hemlock.
"For now," continued Taros Ranvok, "the way before us is dark. Swords and spears will be our tools now."
"The Witches, our traditional enemies, have moved against us, killing the sister of our King. Long have they sat in their dark ziggurats, harvesting souls and growing in power. They must now feel that they can move against us without fear. In addition, it seems that they have entered into an alliance with the Wizard Guild from the City."
There was a stir in the crowd. "What of the outlanders? Aren’t they responsible for this strife?" shouted a voice. Several others echoed similar sentiments.
There was a negative murmur from the crowd as Taros Ranvok gestured for quiet.
"It is true that the arrival of the outlanders has seemed to trigger these events. But I feel that it may be a blessing in disguise, for it has hastened a confrontation with the Witch, which I believe has been inevitable. It is better to face her now than ten years hence, when her power might be unopposable. Also consider that the Outlanders are great wizards and Warriors in their own right. The three of them slew a Mathi without any aid from us. In addition, they now bear a magic item of great power, which they plan to use against the wizards."
Some of the crowd was still not convinced. Cries continued like: "Why not give them to the wizards?" and "Why should we fight the wizards?"
Taros Ranvok motioned to Safreon. Hemlock turned and saw Safreon moving through the crowd toward the stairs which led to the stage. He gave Hemlock a reassuring nod as he passed. She could see that he carried something under his cloak.
Taros Ranvok continued to speak to the crowd. "Have you considered the wizards and their motives? They harvest souls from this land and bring the magical Oberon back to the City. They have a truce with the Witches, which by its mere existence, brings their motives into question. Did you think that they were your friends? After all, it is Wizard magic which originally created the veil and sundered our land from that of our ancestors. Do not question for a moment that the wizards have not been our enemies only because they view us as insignificant. Like the Witches, they lust for absolute power over the City and all the lands within the veil."
Safreon reached the side of the stage and Taros Ranvok waved him forward, as he spoke, "Behold, the Wand of the Imperator, an item which wields a magic as potent as that which bound our land to the City."
Safreon pulled the wand from his cloak and held it overhead. The molten fire within the glass head of the Wand seemed to surge for a moment as the Tanna Varrans beheld it.
A silence overcame the crowd then. The air in the hall seemed to take on a weight under the flickering brilliance of the magical fire within the Wand, almost as if it were some incendiary eye that held each man and woman rapt under its gaze.
A feeling of reverie had overcome Hemlock, and with her, seemingly much of the crowd. She felt insignificant in the presence of such a tangible power as the Wand.
"Remember, it is just a tool," she repeated to herself—words that Safreon had said more than once in the past few days when she had looked on the Wand.
Taros Ranvok spoke again, breaking the spell of the wand. "This is the power that has come to us–at precisely the time that we need it most. It is a power that can be used to defeat the Witch and repel the wizards. That is what we fight for, no less than the freedom of our people in the coming ages."
The crowd remained silent.
"The Witches and the wizards think that they will defeat us easily. They have little respect for our battle traditions. And they do not understand the power of the Outlanders and this Wand. We will meet them tomorrow in this valley, and great deeds will take place–deeds that will be written about and spoken of in future generations. Know that whatever happens, that you will not be forgotten; your bravery and your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And the children, our children, will live in a world that doesn’t have to fear the Witches."
Hemlock saw Tored rise from his seat, behind Taros Ranvok. He strode forward to stand on the opposite flank of the young leader, beside Safreon.
Tored spoke then, his voice ringing out through the hall in a way that inspired Hemlock.
"It is time for war!" he proclaimed. Raising his arm high, with a balled fist, he continued, "Death to our enemies!"
The crowd gave a muted response at first.
"Death to our enemies!" repeated Tored.
The crowd roared in response this time.
"Death to our enemies!" cried Tored once more.
The crowd erupted in response.
Hemlock was astonished. She had been unsure of their motivation after hearing them speak at the beginning of the address, but it seemed to her that Taros Ranvok had convinced them.
How many of them will die tomorrow?
She noticed Gwineval looking equally grim. Their eyes met and his glance confirmed to her that they were both thinking the same thought.
A Tanna Varran beside Hemlock grasped her shoulder, clearly caught up in the passion of battle lust, for which Taros Ranvok had laid the kindling and Tored had fanned to a raging fire.
"My life for you and yours! But you must kill the Witch!" he cried.
"I will do my best," was the best response that Hemlock could manage to shout to the man, before he was swept away by a wave of motion in the crowd.
Chapter Twenty One
Tored, Taros Ranvok, Safreon and Gwineval had decided to split the Tanna Varran forces into two to face each of the approaching armies. Hemlock had been assigned to deploy with the Tanna Varran forces that were opposing the Wizard and City forces.
Hemlock fell into step with the rear rank of a Tanna Varran foot company as the unit moved forward. It had been decided that she would stay at the rear of this unit, which was positioned in the center of the field, because the Tanna Varrans had chosen to employ a tight formation that allowed them to use their spears to maximum effect against the Wizard and City forces. Hemlock needed some room to fight effectively with her sabres and was not used to fighting with a spear. She planned to engage the enemy in any area where the Tanna Varran lines lost cohesion. Her role was to be that of a roving fighter, moving to the point of critical need during the battle.
It had also been decided that the Tanna Varrans would try to engage the enemy no farther from the Town than the maximum effective range of their Ballistae, so that they could retreat under the Ballista’s covering fire if need be.
The Tanna Varrans were walking forward resolutely to a preordained line, moving in advance of the approaching Wizard forces.
Slowly the Wizard units in front of Hemlock’s unit gained in clarity. There was a large contingent of City Knights on foot in the front and middle of their line, flanked on each side by units of tattooed Wizard fighters. Behind these front lines, a unit of mounted knights rode alongside two lumbering Harvesters, whose great iron limbs glistened with morning dew. The Harvesters' joints groaned as they moved
to and fro and their sound dominated the battlefield, taking on a terrifying aspect which seemed to shake the morale of the Tanna Varrans. Hemlock wondered if that sound had been magically enhanced, but she did not detect any evidence of that.
Gwineval, who was at her side, hissed loudly to her. "Hemlock, can you see anything unusual in their lines?"
She was about to respond negatively when something did strike her as unusual. She detected a subtle magical vibration coming from the Harvesters directly ahead—in the center of the battle line. It was emanating from the sound that they made and it was not amplification magic like she had expected it to be, but magic of illusion.
"The Harvesters in their center are illusory I think," she shouted in response to Gwineval.
"All right!" Gwineval responded, alerting the Tanna Varran unit commanders that stood near him.
Hemlock looked at Gwineval and was nervous for him. She knew that he and Safreon were about to attempt magic that was on the very frontier of their abilities. She hoped that they knew what they were doing.
Hemlock continued to stride forward grimly. She could see that only a hundred yards or so separated the battle lines of the wizards and Knights and the Tanna Varrans.
Suddenly the two Harvesters ahead and the two units of First Circle Wizard troops flanking the center Knights took on a wavering appearance.
"The Wizard units in the center are illusion too!" hissed Gwineval loudly. "They are concentrating their forces at the flanks!"
"What should we do?" asked Hemlock, noting that the Knights on foot were moving to fill in the gap in their lines left by the illusory Wizard troops.
"You move to the left flank and I’ll move to the right. We have to prevent them from turning our flanks," hissed Gwineval urgently. He nodded to her and turned, running toward the right flank.
Hemlock heard a great clash as the Tanna Varran foot soliders met the City knights. The Knights were initially held at bay by the wall of spears. Some Knights fell under the rain of spear thrusts, but some were able to dash into the Tanna Varran lines and initiate desperate swordplay with the lighter armored Tanna Varrans. The Tanna Varrans were disciplined, however, and their rear ranks supported the front and felled many knights as they broke through. The knights were inflicting significant casualties with their heavy swords though, which could not be turned by the lighter Tanna Varran armor.
Hemlock resisted an impulse to rush into the fray. She knew that she had to stay with the plan, but she wasn’t used to leaving comrades to fight alone and not rushing to their aid.
Hemlock shook her head with resignation and turned and ran along the rear of the Tanna Varran lines toward the left flank.
She could see that the Harvesters there, now visible after being hidden by Wizard magic, were beginning to rain down terrible destruction on the Tanna Varran units there. Streams of fire emanated from the eyes and mouths of the two Harvesters, immolating many Tanna Varrans on the ground. Hemlock could see that the protective wards which Gwineval had cast on the Tanna Varrans were having some effect as she saw several fighters shrug off fire that should have left them horribly burned and continue to fight.
Hemlock could see the First Circle Wizard units engaged with the Tanna Varran line in front of her; these wizards were inflicting terrible losses against the foot soldiers as she got into position behind them on the edge of their forces. The First Circle wizards were obviously far more dangerous foes than the City Knights, although they were fewer in number.
Fortunately, the streams of fire jetting from the Harvesters had become less frequent. Looking up, she saw that hundreds of winged Lancers were engaging the Iron golems. They were flying around the huge heads and casting spears into the eyes and mouths of the Golems. The wizards suddenly switched their tactics and began to throw lightning bolts at the flyers.
The sound of thunderclaps resonated over the battlefield.
The flying Lancers were now taking terrible losses against the Harvesters, but Hemlock saw more than one Wizard fall from the heads of the lumbering giants, becoming victims of expert spear throws.
Hemlock paused for a moment and wondered, Is Falignus in one of these iron beasts? The gravity of the situation made her think of him more intensely for reasons that she didn’t understand. Putting aside her thoughts, she sprinted toward the nearest fighting.
As Hemlock entered the fray, she felt oddly disconnected from herself. She had always felt motivated by some injustice when she had fought in the past. Now, things seemed so complicated that she was no longer sure exactly for whom or for what she fought.
But soon a Wizard was before her, his tattoos blazing as he launched into a series of thrusts, trying to slay her. Hemlock saw unmasked cruelty in that Wizard's eyes and it heartened her and rekindled her sense of justice and righteous indignation.
With a cry she stepped inside a fast, but clumsy thrust and slashed the man's throat. Running, she slashed out the hamstrings of another nearby Wizard and soon she was wreaking havoc amongst the Wizard ranks and the Tanna Varran troops near her were able to disengage and reform their ranks.
Fire began to rain down around Hemlock, singing her hair and burning her limbs. The magical resistance which Gwineval and Safreon had cast helped her resistance, but she still received several minor burns from glancing hits by streams of flame.
Hemlock heard a cry overhead and looked above her. She saw that the Tanna Varran flying Lancers had disengaged from the Harvesters, leaving the wizards in their great iron faces to begin to concentrate magical fire on the Tanna Varran ground units again.
Without a thought, she prepared to fly into battle against the Harvesters, but then a strange sound rang out over the battlefield from the opposite side of the Tanna Varran line in the direction that Gwineval had headed.
Waves of noise travelled over the battlefield, producing a strange echo and crackling effect which drowned out the groaning of the great iron limbs of the Harvesters and even the concussive fire streams that the wizards were casting from atop them.
Gwineval is starting his casting, Hemlock realized, as she paused to look toward the right flank and searched for the serpentine Wizard.
Many other eyes also turned toward that sound and they beheld a green, misshapen form rising above the field in pulsating spasms of growth.
Hemlock gasped at the sight. To her, it seemed like she was watching the accelerated growth of some great primordial Lizard. She knew that it was Gwineval transforming himself, but the creature that writhed and cried out as it grew bore only a faint resemblance to him.
The head had elongated and lost all trace of human origin. The upper limbs shortened proportionally, while the lower limbs grew thicker and more powerful. The jaws of the creature, which Hemlock now had difficulty thinking of as Gwineval, became huge and lined with serrated with teeth. In mere moments, the strange green creature had assumed the full height of a Wizard Guild Harvester.
The Tanna Varrans around her looked excited, but unsure about the creature that they now beheld.
"Press the advantage! Attack!" cried Hemlock.
Tanna Varran commanders soon joined Hemlock in the outcry to attack, and within moments the Tanna Varran fighters were moving forward and crashing into the enemy positions in front of them.
Hemlock returned her attention to the creature that had been Gwineval. She saw that it had scooped up some Tanna Varran warriors and eviscerated them in its mammoth jaws!
Alarmed, Hemlock began to run toward the creature, unsure what she would do when she arrived in its vicinity, but feeling a need to act.
But the wizards across the battlefield solved her problem for her. Not noticing that the great green beast had turned on its own troops, the wizards redirected all of their magical attacks against it.
They did not use fire any longer, but pale green beams which emanated from each Harvester and bathed the creature with a pale aura.
The creature cried out in anguish and began to shrink.
Hemlock h
alted in her tracks again as she saw the beast surging with a suffering rage and turning its attention to the nearest Harvester. With an inhuman gait, it charged and bowled into the huge iron figure, impacting its iron torso with its scaled head.
The Harvester reeled as it absorbed the shock of the impact from the lizard creature, and began to fall backward.
The Harvester crew tried to maintain its balance, but failed to do so despite a crude outstretch of the figure’s massive iron arms. It fell backward onto the valley floor as the monstrous incarnation of Gwineval continued its charge, climbing up onto the prone torso of the Harvester and stomping down on it with its great muscled legs. Wizards were fleeing from the head as the huge lizard continued to pummel the inert figure of the disabled Harvester.
Hemlock had seen many wonders over the past days, but seeing what Gwineval had become was the most intense and scared her profoundly. This lizard creature was violently destructive and seemed chaotic. The mind of Gwineval had obviously been consumed by the ferocious rage of the reptile. She hoped that it was only temporary. What if it turned on the Tanna Varrans again? She had to hope that the wizards would continue to attack it.
And they did.
Green beams from the remaining Harvesters continued to bathe the creature in an unnatural light. It seemed to spasm from time to time, shrinking in pain, and then growing again as if fueled by its rage.
Screaming, the creature turned its attention to the second Harvester which was positioned near it.
Hemlock looked away from the spectacle and noticed that the Tanna Varrans before her were starting to gain the upper hand on the First Circle Wizard foot soldiers and City Knights.
There was a great crash from the center of the Tanna Varran battle line then. Hemlock could not fully see what was happening, but soon she was able to discern City lances and pennants above the heads of the Tanna Varrans. "The wizards must have committed the mounted Knights from their reserves," she concluded.
Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) Page 28