Dawn of War

by Tim Marquitz

  On the roof, as Zalee pulled the rest of the party up, Cael looked out over the city. Fires burned wild, filling the air with swirls of thick black smoke. The Grol army still spilled through the shattered front wall, scattering without discipline once inside Lathah. Horrible sounds drifted to his ears: the clang of swords colliding, the sound of the butcher’s block as meat met steel, and the cries of men dying filled his head with horror.

  The streets ran thick with furred bodies, a maelstrom of claw and tooth that tore its way through the paltry resistance that still stood. The twang of bows sounded in dim echoes, raining death upon the Grol, but with the walls down, the trade of lives was far from even. Cael could see a number of beasts dead on the ground, feathered with shafts, but alongside them lay a far greater number of Lathahns, their bodies torn apart. He turned away, his stomach churning at the cruelty so blatantly on display. He felt sorry for the people down below. He could see no chance of victory.

  The last of the party on the wall, Zalee inched to the far edge and glanced over. Cael followed her gaze, steeling it against what he knew he’d see. Down below, the streets were strangely calm, the masses of Grol spilling in through the center of the city where the walls had been taken down. Here where they still stood, the labyrinth of the levels keeping the battle from reaching the far corners. Stragglers scrambled about and soldiers hunkered down in preparation for the coming onslaught, but Cael could see no Grol among them.

  Zalee cleared some space around her and began to whisper, her words little more than breaths amidst the chaos of the war around them. She stood rigid, her pink eyes staring off into the distance.

  The princess, chiding her sons for standing too close to the edge of the wall, glanced to Cael. Unsure of what Zalee intended, he forced a smile that spoke of patience. He hoped it hid his uncertainty. Malya would know when they all did. One of the Pathra gasped and Cael spun to see why, his own breath catching in his lungs when he spied what the warrior had.

  The dark smoke that rose up from the city around them had begun to drift toward them, gathering into what looked like roiling storm clouds. It no longer floated toward the sky, but seemed to hover thick at the apex of the wall. More and more of it came together, the murky darkness blotting out the ground below.

  As Cael watched the clouds coalesce, he thought of the river at Pathrale and realized what Zalee intended. He glanced down again and was grateful the churning smoke blocked his view. Waeri and his people stared wide-eyed at the building clouds that stretched between the walls, seeming delighted. The princess seemed quite the opposite. Her expression was as dark as the smoke. The boys stared with broad grins stretching their faces, marveling at the whirling darkness. Malya’s husband stood near his sons as he too watched the smoke gather. There was the slightest glimmer of a smile upon his lips.

  As the clouds compressed, their shifting softness beginning to take on the appearance of solidness, Cael thought he saw the shifting eyes of the goddess amidst the smoke, a reddened glint shimmering in the darkness. Cael smiled, hoping she could see him.

  “We must hurry,” Zalee called out, a subtle rawness to her words. “Cael, go first and lead the princess and her children across.”

  Called out on his words of trust, Cael knew he couldn’t hesitate. His experience at the river gave him a measure of confidence, but he couldn’t stop the trembles that rattled his body as he stepped out onto the clouds. His breath was frozen in his lungs until his foot settled, the smoke bearing his weight. Glad once more he couldn’t see through to the ground far below, he reached out his hand to the princess, his smile genuine.

  With the fearless face only a mother could maintain, the princess stepped out onto the makeshift bridge before she allowed her children. Once she was sure it would hold them, she waved the boys forward. Smiles lighted their faces as they walked on the clouds. Malya, allowing no time for curiosity, walked as quickly as she dared. Her husband followed close behind, urging his sons on. At Falen’s back, the worried-eyed soldiers bore the king across, their steps exaggerated and cautious.

  Cael stifled a laugh and hurried to the far wall as the rest of the party followed, Zalee coming last. As soon as she stepped onto the wall, the bridge at her back broke apart as though caught in a swift wind. The smoke churned and whirled, no longer bound to its unnatural form, and rose up once more into the sky.

  Cael looked to Zalee to see her brow glistening with tiny drops of sweat. Her eyes seemed dim, their normal radiance subdued. She glanced at him, but looked away as their eyes met, stepping once more to the edge of the wall. He turned away to hide his concern amidst the awed faces of the party.

  As before, Zalee whispered to the goddess and the smoke came at her call, forming the dark bridge across the open spaces between the walls. Cael watched at each crossing as Zalee grew more and more weary, frustrated that he could do nothing to help her. For her part, she weathered the effort in silence, but there was no hiding the suffering in her eyes, their pink having faded nearly to white by the time they reached the last wall.

  Below them, the movement of Grol and Lathahn grew steadier the closer they came to the final level, a smattering of conflicts playing out in the crowded streets. Despite that, the walkways at the top of the walls set so far above the bedlam of the streets, they had not been noticed, despite the oddity of their travel. Cael gave thanks to Ree for that, hoping to one day learn the Sha’ree secrets so that he might tell her directly.

  Zalee drew herself up and began her whispers once more. The clouds were slower to gather, but they did not refuse her summons. As she built her bridge of smoke, Cael noticed a sudden flurry of motion just below where they stood. He moved down the walkway to see more clearly past the smoke, leaning over the edge. The deep-throated growl of a Grol reached his ears just as his vision focused. His heart grew thunderous in his chest.

  There in the maze of alleys between the houses, he spied the brown-haired girl he’d seen when he and Zalee had first come to Lathah. She ran parallel to the wall, heading in his direction, as she darted through the narrow alleys, swerving left and right to avoid the detritus that stood piled in her path. At her heels was a dark-furred Grol, scrabbling on all fours and howling. Despite the girl’s speed, Cael could see the beast was closing on her.

  He looked to Zalee. Her face twisted in concentration, he knew he would find no help there. All eyes on the gathering smoke there was no time to plead for the party’s assistance. He darted to Zalee’s side and dug his hands beneath her cloak. If she noticed, she gave no sign. Her glazed focus was on the forming darkness.

  He fumbled with the bag at her back and yanked the silvery rope out. With no time to tie it, he tossed the looped end around the nearest crenellation and ran the far end through the hole to keep it in place, dropping the rest down alongside the wall. He sucked in a quick breath and pulled his tunic up to protect his hands before slipping over the wall. He heard panicked voices call out to him as he went, their words lost in the wind of his descent.

  He slid quickly down the rope, the heat of his passage burning at his hands despite the material of his tunic. The ground rushed toward him and he bit back a cry, wincing as he felt the rope tear at his palms. He gritted his teeth. It was too late to turn back.

  He hit the ground hard and tumbled backward into the trash that littered the alley, the fetid piles buffering his fall. It exploded all around him, tumbling overtop as though a funeral of debris. Cael swept the garbage away just as the smell hit, and scrambled to his feet, grateful he had only a gentle throb at his knees in reward for his graceless landing. His eyes darted about to gather his bearings. He heard the snarling Grol approaching, the slap of the girl’s bare feet leading the way.

  A thought was thrust into his mind right then, as sharp as a dagger through his eye. He had brought no weapon with which to challenge the Grol.

  Already pounding its quickened rhythm, his heart grew even more tempestuous. He glanced about as he heard the girl approaching around the corner, h
is eyes landing on the rope. He dashed across the alley and snatched up the rope’s silvery end, running back to the corner. There was just enough slack so that the rope lay flat across the trash-strewn ground. He could see its silvery sheen, but there was no time to cover it up. His course had been set. He prayed to Ree he had made the right choice.

  His plea barely formed, the young girl bolted around the corner and stepped lithely through the collected debris. She missed the rope by inches and Cael whispered thanks to Ree as she flew past. She glanced over her shoulder a few feet beyond the trap, perhaps spying him as she went by, and stumbled to a stop. The dark pits of her eyes stared at him, her cheeks flush with fear and the silver of her tears. She stood still as if stunned by his appearance.

  Cael waved her on as he heard the grunted snarl of the Grol, almost upon them. She stared for an instant longer before she seemed to realize what he intended. Her lead having fallen away in just that short time, she dove for the meager cover of the trash.

  Cael had no time to second-guess his plan because the Grol appeared around the corner, jagged yellow teeth and fiery red eyes leading the charge. It loped with fury, coming fast. Cael did his best to time the beast’s movement, pulling hard on the rope just before it reached the line.

  A cold terror washed over him up as the rope snapped upward. He bore down, ignoring the stripped flesh of his palms, when he felt the first tug, the rope drawing a line across the Grol’s throat. Its eyes went wide and its clawed hands reached for the rope as it realized what had happened. It was too late.

  Cael crouched low and dug his heels into the sodden ground as the Grol’s weight pulled hard against the rope. The beast’s head was snapped back by its sudden shift in momentum, its feet taking the lead as its hind quarters were flung into the air. Head over heels it spun, hurtling through the air like the acrobatic bards he’d seen in Nurin as a child. Only there was no graceful landing at the end of its spin.

  Tossed upright, the Grol crashed face first into the white stone of the wall. A muffled crack resounded as its snout was bend downward at an odd angle, its weight only contorting it more as the rest of its body collided with the wall. It loosed a wet grunt at impact and fell backward. Showers of dark blood and yellowed teeth spewed volcanic from its mouth as it landed hard on its back. Its red eyes whirled in its head as though it were blind before coming to rest on Cael.

  Despite the viciousness of its fall, the Grol rolled over onto its belly and pulled its limbs beneath it into a crouch. Blood spilled from its broken-toothed snarl and it hunched low, ready to launch at Cael.

  Frozen by fear, his arms and legs in rebellion, he stared at the beast, unable to flee. An ear-piercing scream drew his eyes and he saw the girl hurl a fist-sized stone at the Grol. The rock slammed into the side of its head with a solid thud, bouncing away to disappear in the mounds of trash. Seeming more angered than hurt, the Grol spun and leapt at the girl who scrambled away with a shriek.

  Cael knew she stood no chance. Her courage having ignited his own, he flung himself at the beast. Without conscious thought, he reached into his waistband and dug inside the bag stashed inside. His fingers closed about the rod and he dismissed it, digging deeper until he felt the cool surface of the crystal orb, remembering what the Sha’ree had told him of it. He pulled it free as he dove at the Grol.

  The beast saw him coming and turned to face him, giving him a feral grin of ruined teeth. Despite the tremors that rattled his body and the voices inside his pounding skull that screamed of the stupidity of what he intended, there was no turning back. He ducked low as he barreled forward, stepping beneath the sharpened claws that waited to tear his flesh from bone. As he did, he whipped his arm overhand, his fist and the orb crashing into the cheek of the Grol.

  The crystal orb shattered as it struck and he could feel the razored shards wreaking havoc upon his palm, hundreds of tiny wounds opened all at once. His knuckles sang out, the stout skull of the beast like punching stone.

  Unable to slow his charge, Cael slammed into the Grol. Through the blur of his thoughts, he imagined he knew how the beast had felt when it had crashed into the wall.

  He being the smaller of the two, Cael was bounced backward, falling away from the beast. As he fell, he spied the sharp claws that hurtled toward him, their tips striping the flesh at his chest, just below his collarbone. He hit the ground, his head snapping back into the trash, agony burning at his hand and torso.

  A horrible, inhuman screech tore at his ears and drew his attention from his wounds.

  Cael looked up at the beast through eyes that refused to focus and wondered at the flickering red and orange halo that seemed to flutter about the Grol. He blinked away his tears as the young girl appeared at his side, tugging at his arm to pull him up.

  The shriek continued as the Grol thrashed about, swatting at itself as though covered in wasps. Cael blinked once more as he was hauled to his feet, his vision clearing.

  The beast was engulfed in fire. At his cheek clung a tiny, crimson beetle that shimmered brightly. The licking tongues of flame that seemed to spew from the beetle’s pincers, flickered with malevolence as it tore at the Grol. Flesh seared to black beneath its touch. Cael was assailed by the foul stench of burnt fur as the girl pulled him down the alley.

  As if realizing the creator of its torment intended escape, the Grol leapt forward seeming intent upon sharing its fiery demise. Its scream grew more ragged, sharper as it set its sights upon them. Cael and the girl stumbled backward into a wall, having lost sense of their direction when the flaming beast charged. Their backs against the unyielding stone, their arms entwined, there was nowhere to go. It loomed before them, enshrouded in dancing flames. The fury in its boiling glare was a palpable heat that struck in advance of its claws. Cael stared into its eyes and saw only death reflected there.

  A heartbeat later, he saw nothing in its eyes.

  Just feet from where they stood, the beast went rigid, its eyes rolling in their sockets. It twitched and crumpled into a burning heap. Out of the back of its skull a javelin protruded, its tail still trembling from the force of its throw.

  Cael looked up to see bright yellow eyes staring at him from a smiling face encircled in dark gray fur. At the Pathra’s back stood Zalee, the awkward expression of her face clearly one of fury.

  “You are a fool, Cael.” She strode rigid to his side, each step made with certain effort. “The fate of Ahreele rests in the hands of the relic-wielders; in your hands. What would we have done had you been slain?”

  Cael met her weary glare, angry at her chastisement but yet he could understand her point, one he hadn’t taken into account when he’d rushed off to save the girl. He glanced at her as she clung to his arm in wide-eyed wonder, dirt smeared across her face. He looked back to Zalee. “I’m sorry,” he told her in an attempt to soothe her anger, though his tongue would not stop there, “but what purpose is there in saving Ahreele if we only intend to stand by and let its people die?”

  Zalee drew herself up and stared at Cael. The Pathran emissary chuckled behind her. After a quiet moment, the Sha’ree shook her head, the slightest glimmer of a smile gracing her narrow mouth. “There is much to learn in this world, young Cael. I must keep in mind that I will not always be the one to teach.” She turned away. “Come. We must see the princess to safety.”

  “I would have her come with us,” Cael said, gesturing to the girl.

  Zalee glanced over her shoulder at her and then back to Cael. “Then be quick, the both of you.” She strode toward the street.

  The Pathra waved them on. “Waeri,” he said, introducing himself. “Your courage has made this warrior proud.” He put his arms about their shoulders and ushered them away from the rank scent of the fallen Grol.

  “I’m Ellora,” the young girl said, her voice cracking. She spared a grateful glance at the Pathra, then another for Cael. “Thank you.”

  Cael could only nod, his voice having suddenly deserted him. They were at the wall a sil
ent moment later, Zalee having found another rope to haul them up with.

  Within just minutes they were over the wall and moving fast toward the sheltering shadows of the forest. Lathah burned at their backs, the sounds of battle growing ever dimmer. Cael cast a glance back just as one of the great spires came tumbling down, adding its dust to the whirls of black smoke that shrouded the city. He looked to the princess and her family, Ellora, and felt a pang of sorrow on their behalf, for he knew what it meant to lose his people and his home.

  He whispered a prayer to Ree for all those that who remained behind. They would need the goddess now.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Lost in the fugue of battle, Arrin knew only the rhythm of his sword and dying cries of the enemy that fell about him.

  He had meant only to delay the Grol as the Sha’ree ferried the princess and her family to safety, but the beasts seemed intent upon bringing him down, their eyes only on him. As they had on his return to Lathah, they seemed to hold back, as though they still intended to capture him, rather than kill. However, that hesitance did not stop their advance. There were far more than Arrin had imagined.