The flames kept coming and coming.
How could they keep it up? Even she couldn’t last this long! Julia pulled more magic, and then again. The air was almost impossible to breathe with the smoke rising around them. It was so hot that her dress was starting to smolder, and her exposed skin felt stretched tight. Mathius was using a piece of his burnt robe to cover his nose and mouth. She grabbed a piece and did likewise.
It didn’t help.
* * *
Keverin galloped north in a thunder of hooves. He knew it was foolish, but he couldn’t make himself care. When Julia left Malcor for the north he had fallen back on his duty like a coward as he always did and let her go. This time was different. Keverin had found himself saddling Cavell with no memory of making the decision. When he left the stable, his men were waiting for him. They had found him out somehow, and they wouldn’t let him leave without them. They said their Julia was fighting for them, and that she would need them all to fight for her. Of course, he had ordered them to stay at Malcor and defend it under Jihan’s orders, but Jihan had come down and said he was coming as well. None of his arguments swayed either Jihan or his own men, so he gave in. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time arguing.
And that was why he was racing north with two thousand men toward their deaths.
The day had moved on toward evening when they were close enough to see the flames. The smoke blanketed the sky for leagues. When Keverin saw the devastation, his heart sank. There was a wall of fire advancing across the plain, and behind it nothing remained except ash. There was no sign of Julia. Burned corpses of men and horses littered the ground. Keverin didn’t know where Julia had set up her ambush, but with her strength, she could be a league or more away. He was about to order his men to search for her, when a shout of alarm went up. He turned to see the remnants of a Hasian battalion galloping out of dense smoke.
“Athione!” Keverin roared and spurred to meet them.
“Athione and Julia!” His men responded.
“Malcor!” Jihan and his men roared.
Keverin took his first two men relatively easy. The Hasians seemed more intent on running from the flames than in attacking him, but he didn’t have it all his own way. A man, a Legion Captain by his rank badge, attacked and managed to wound him slightly. Keverin’s rage was such that he barely felt the wound. He cut the man down and spurred Cavell toward another target without slowing.
Jihan’s men fought methodically and in pairs where that was possible. Jihan himself worked his horse into the fray and was unstoppable. He controlled his horse with his knees turning Jezy this way and that, while his sword blurred around him. Nothing came near to wounding him.
Keverin cut another man from his saddle and it was over. Casting about for Jihan, he breathed easier when he found his friend unharmed. Dead and wounded were scattered over the ash black ground. He had lost easily five dozen men, but he quickly revised that figure when he found many of those unhorsed were just wounded.
“Mount the wounded in front of the able bodied,” he said to Jihan.
“Best we can do,” Jihan agreed and quickly had the wounded mounted in front of their companions. They would ride in the centre of his formation.
Keverin beckoned Brian. “I want you and a half dozen men to scout ahead—no more than a few hundred yards mind. Keep a sharp eye for Julia and Mathius, and watch those fires. If the wind changes we’ll all be for it.”
“Yes lord,” Brian said then turned and shouted to the men. “First six men with me!”
Keverin waited until the scouts were well ahead then led his men forward. He remembered his own advice and watched the flames warily. The wind seemed to be favouring them, but he wasn’t comforted.
“Have you any idea of her plan?” Jihan said.
“No, but knowing her she probably rode up to them and ordered them to go home,” Keverin said sourly.
Jihan snorted but didn’t laugh. There really wasn’t anything to laugh about in this situation.
The ash puffed up and mixed with the dust. They had to cover their faces to filter it out. The stink of burnt meat was enough to turn Keverin’s stomach, but he had to continue. His Julia was in the middle of this somewhere. He wanted to dash ahead and find her, but his common sense stopped him this time. He had to search the hills methodically. The flames had denuded the entire area of grass, but it was still hard to see if a body lay in the ash. The thought of her dead sent a pang of grief through him, but he managed to stop the impulse to charge off yet again.
The wind changed direction and added a new dimension to his worry for Julia. The burnt area they were moving through was safe enough from the flames, but they could still die from the smoke, which was becoming worse now. He was having trouble breathing, and as the smoke became denser, he was able to see less. He slowed the column to a crawl to be sure not to miss anything.
“Look there,” Jihan said pointing ahead.
The scouts were heading back in.
“Report,” Keverin ordered.
“Hasians m’lord,” Brian said. “The smoke is too thick to see, but we heard them.”
“How many?”
“Can’t tell m’lord.”
Keverin nodded. The cursed smoke was too thick.
“I’ll take half around the hill—” Jihan began.
“And I’ll draw them in,” Keverin finished.
They both grinned.
Jihan led half the men behind the hill while Keverin and the rest of the men pretended to stop for a drink. He watched Jihan slowly disappear into the smoke and the Hasians appear from the other side of the hill. The legionnaires were in good order. They hadn’t lost any men. The scouts out front were searching for a way around the fire, which was starting to circle back towards the south. When they saw Keverin’s men, they spurred back to the main body to report. A moment later, the battalion charged to the attack.
Keverin’s men held a tight formation and resisted the initial push until Jihan circled the hill and struck the Hasians in the flank. They were taken completely by surprise. Before their captain could reorganise, they were split into two groups.
“Sweep right!” Keverin roared over the din of battle.
Keverin led his men and slammed into the Hasians. He screamed his rage into the faces of his enemies and cleaved men from the saddle. His blade blurred right and left harvesting arms and heads as he urged Cavell forward with his knees.
“Athione!” Keverin roared as Cavell kicked a man intent on stabbing him in the back. “Athione!”
Jihan had more difficulty with his half. It was bad luck that most of the sergeants were trapped in his part of the battalion. Consequently, the legionnaires were well organised. Jihan tried to cut down key men in the Hasian line, but the press of battle prevented his efforts for the most part.
It was Keverin’s turn to attack from the rear. He finished his half of the Hasian battalion and immediately wheeled to attack those pressing Jihan. The extra men made all the difference and the battle ended with him owning the field.
Keverin didn’t feel very victorious as he stared at all the empty saddles. He had lost more than three hundred men. Jihan had lost more. The legions were deadly. A single battalion—a thousand men—had almost succeeded in holding off twice its number of Devan guardsmen even when surprised.
Keverin took off his helmet to let the air dry his sweat soaked hair. He watched his men give the grace to comrades and enemies alike. There weren’t many wounded left among his men. He tried not to notice the familiar faces who were gone.
“We can’t do this again,” Keverin said wiping his face.
“If we have to, we will,” Jihan said grimly. “Julia is more important than the men. She’s more important than all of us—you know that.”
“I love her, my friend,” Keverin said. “She’s important to me.”
“I don’t mean that. Without her Deva is finished. Even with her it might be.”
Keverin pulled his helmet back
on. He didn’t want to think about this. Not now, not ever. Jihan was right about her importance to Deva, but Julia wasn’t a tool. She was to be his consort whether she knew it or not. She was already his life.
“I can’t think about Deva now,” Keverin said. “We better move on.”
Jihan nodded and gave the order to mount up, but the horses were panicky. The men cursed as they tried to climb into the saddle. The horses side stepped and reared. Some turning full circle as their riders tried and failed to climb into the saddle. They were not at all happy about moving on.
“On foot?” Jihan said grimly.
“Have to.”
Another candlemark went by and Keverin was beginning to despair of ever finding her. He was tired, worried, and his feet hurt. The sun had disappeared behind the smoke, and the very air itself was hot. Breathing the foul stuff was almost impossible.
“Come on you... ack, ack... flaming wooden-headed...”
Keverin turned to see a guardsman trying to pull his horse onward. Its eyes were wide and panicked. It refused to move on.
“Brian... ack, ack. Get someone up that cursed hill. See... ack, what’s to see.”
Brian wheezed his acknowledgement. He scrambled up himself rather than order some other poor soul to do it. Almost straight away, he returned.
“Lord... ack, the flames are circling round. We... ack, ack, ack, must turn back now or be trapped.”
He couldn’t leave! Julia might be only a few yards beyond the next hill. He looked around at his men fighting the horses and came to a decision.
“I’m sorry Kev... ack, ack, it’s hopeless. We’re done,” Jihan wheezed. The young lord’s face was black with ash and he looked out at the world through red rimmed and streaming eyes.
“Jihan... ack, ack, listen carefully. You are to lead... ack, ack, ack... my men... back to Malcor. I want you to... ack, ack... to... witness the declaration of my heir. Tell... ack, ack, Gylaren’s second son... tell Niklaus that he is my choice. Do you understand?”
“But Kev...”
“Do... you... understand?” Keverin said intently.
“I understand Kev, but... I understand,” Jihan said sadly.
“Good... ack, ack... Take Cavell with you. Now you best be on your way.”
“May the God watch over you and Julia,” Jihan said.
Keverin watched Jihan turn reluctantly and head south. The horses were so eager to go back, they quieted enough to allow the men to mount. They galloped away like the wind.
Keverin hoped they made it before the circle closed.
Looking for a direction was hopeless. Julia could be anywhere. Closing his eyes, he prayed for guidance then turned on the spot. When he opened his eyes, he was looking into the worst of the smoke. Without hesitation, he walked into it. Keverin’s world turned to stinging eyes and hacking cough.
* * *
Julia’s world had narrowed until only one thing remained—breathing. She was slowly suffocating. She had tried dropping her shield when the sorcerers succumbed to the firestorm—a mistake. The heat and smoke were so much worse that her hair ignited.
“AEiii!” Julia screamed in shock.
Her magic jumped into her grasp so fast she wasn’t sure afterwards whether she reached for it or whether it came to her aid unbidden. Whichever it was her shield slammed down so hard the ground was grooved in a circle around them. As quick as thought she extinguished her hair, but Mathius was unconscious and didn’t know he was burning.
Julia put out the flames with a thought and tried to heal his arms and legs, but she couldn’t hold the shield at the same time. Coughing and with her eyes streaming she drew more magic until she was floating in fire, but still she couldn’t see his aura. She returned from the abyss gasping at the pain that stuttered along her nerves.
Julia tried to make the shield harden itself against the smoke. She had to keep it out or suffocate. It seemed to work. As the smoke cleared, she began to hope they might survive. Her hopes were dashed when after half a candlemark she became light headed. The shield was keeping everything out, the air included. Julia changed it again and started hacking her lungs up as the smoke rushed in along with the air.
The fire raced across the plain faster than a horse could gallop. It was raging completely out of control. A large body of men galloped north trying to make a run for it. They were Deva’s enemies, but Julia wished them luck. A short time later, she saw a group only a fraction of the size galloping back to the south, and believed it to be the same one.
She doubted they survived.
How many people had she killed now? Directly and indirectly, she was responsible for the deaths of twenty thousand legionnaires, and she had failed to save over half of the guardsmen at Athione. If Father Gideon was right, she would kneel in judgement before God soon. Would he understand why she made the choices she had? Would he forgive her?
It was time to change the shield again. Smoke and the stink of burnt meat rushed in. Julia’s eyes streamed so badly she lost sight of the few remaining groups of legionnaires. She could only hope they didn’t decide to gallop this way. The little she could see was seen through a veil of tears. That would be a good name for this battle. The Veil of Tears. If more battles were named thus, there might be less war.
The coughing became so bad, she hardly drew any air in at all, but it was still a more merciful death than the one the Hasians were receiving. Death by suffocation was far better than death by fire. The misery of slow suffocation continued as she changed the shield at intervals. The sky was dark with smoke. It had been blowing southward toward her for a long time now, but suddenly it shifted west. The air outside cleared a little, and she let it back in with relief. It didn’t feel hot any longer and tentatively she raised the shield ready to slam it down again.
A cool breeze caressed the tight skin of her cheeks.
Coughing and gasping for air, she released her magic... tried to release it, but it was a struggle. She had been using it constantly for most of the day. It left her reluctantly, but it did leave and weariness hammered her flat. Staring at the sky, Julia thought she saw stars intermittently as clouds of blackness drifted by. The darkness closing in hadn’t been smoke then, but the night approaching. She stared at the beautiful stars unmoving.
Julia might have died then, but the figure crawling toward her was Keverin not a legionnaire bent on revenge. He collapsed besides her wheezing.
“They’re beautiful aren’t they,” she croaked from a throat roar from smoke.
“Not as beautiful as you, my lady.”
Julia instinctively touched what was left of her hair. There was only stubble on one side, the other hung in tangled and melted snarls.
“Flatterer.”
Keverin croaked a laugh. All he could manage with his breathe rasping in and out. Julia grasped his hand and eased him with her magic ignoring his startled exclamation and the scolding he gave her for wearing herself out. She needed his strength to get them all out of here. There was no point in the boys being in such poor shape when she could do something about it. Mathius was barely breathing, and Julia cursed herself for the delay. She quickly healed him, but the scars remained, mute testimony to her stupidity in opening the shield in a firestorm.
Tears leaked from Julia’s eyes as she gazed at the stars. Back on her old world people didn’t notice the beauty all around them, but here she had seen more in the last half year than all the previous nineteen put together.
“Here... drink some of this,” Keverin said.
Julia let him pour some of the water from the bag into her mouth and swallowed. “Gahhh! That’s disgusting,” she wheezed.
“It’s only water.”
“Tastes... the inside... my boots,” she whispered.
“We need to wake Mathius and get out of here.”
“Please... do...” she croaked.
Damn! Her voice was going now. What next?
* * *
“Mathius wake up curse you!”
Mathius could see by the moonlight that half the day had fled and him unknowing. Everywhere he looked was ash. The fire was still raging leagues away, but from here it looked like a solid wall of bonfires made small by distance. He shivered. The fire would keep going for a hundred leagues until it met a river, or until it rained. He was horrified to see that Julia was burned, but with relief he realised it was just her hair. There wouldn’t be any scars. Thinking about burns, he looked at his forearms and legs. He could see faint silvery scars encircling his arms and the calves of his legs. They looked years old. He had Julia to thank.
Julia looked at him and smiled wanly. *Sorry. I let the shield go too soon. I healed you, but the scars... I’m so sorry Mathius.*
Mathius smiled. “Don’t worry about that. You saved me. That’s all that matters. Now I get to save you for a change.”
Julia didn’t laugh. She was struggling to breathe. The smoke had done its worst on her. She needed a healer right away.
“We need to get her back to Malcor as soon as possible my lord.”
“I know that Mathius! I’m looking for her cursed boots,” Keverin said in frustration.
“Forget them. She can’t walk like this. I’ll carry her,” he said urgently.
Mathius knelt by her side and hoisted in his arms. The slide down the hill was no worse than last time and he quickly regained his feet to head south. Luckily, the sky was clear overhead or they might have travelled in circles all night. Julia was as light as a child in his arms, but she was no child. He could feel the hard muscle beneath her soft exterior. She was like that in many ways. He remembered the look on her face as she killed a battalion of men intent on following Delin’s dust trail. The image of a beautiful woman was completely at odds with the hard steely eyed harridan she had become as she blasted them into the next world.
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 42