Allic had wanted to forge ahead, leaving his slower companions behind. It was only the combined protests of his advisors, warning that it might be a trap, which had finally restrained him.
There was a flash of light ahead. Allic turned his defensive shielding on high and rose to gain altitude for the attack.
Valdez came alongside Mark and spoke to him through the communications crystal, which broadcast his voice to everyone.
"We're the reserve for this," Valdez cried. "The trained sorcerers will go in first. You offworlders, led by me, will hold back until they need us."
"So what the hell does Allic want us to do if we attack?" Mark asked.
"Draw fire, if nothing else," Valdez replied, and banking to one side he signaled for Mark and the others to follow.
Damn it, draw fire, Mark thought. Now he knew what the pilot of an unarmed scout plane must have felt like. He looked back over his shoulder. The hundreds of hours each of the Americans had logged on bomber missions back on Earth must explain their affinity for flight because, while they looked as tired as he felt, all his men were still with him. Whereas only a couple of the Japanese were still with Ikawa; the rest had been straggling back ever since they left the castle. Pina had finally ordered a triad of sorcerers to act as rear guard, and to ride escort on those who had fallen behind.
Mark was seeing a new aspect of Allic. When angry, he became impetuous. If Allic's enemy knew him well enough, this could easily be a trap.
More flashes of light appeared in the sky as the other sorcerers activated their shields to combat readiness and disappeared over the ridge towards a soft, ruddy glow that bathed the eastern sky like a false dawn.
Valdez slowed and the group came up around him. They worked their way up the ridgeline, not a dozen feet off the ground.
Cautiously Valdez rose and crested the hill. Turning to the outlanders he shouted, "Allic wants us to come in. The enemy is gone."
They crested the hill and started a long sloping glide down into the valley. There was nothing on the other side except several dozen sorcerers slowly wheeling and circling above a smoldering ruin.
A flame-blasted wall suddenly loomed out of the shadows before Mark. Rising over it, be crossed into the central courtyard of a large parapet-encircled fortress.
There was the stench of scorched wood in the air, mingled with something else, and the memories flooded back. A hospital back in London had been hit with incendiaries. He had been in the neighborhood and pitched in to help―and then the wave of smoke had washed over him. It was the smell of burning bodies, and the memory of that nightmare stench had never left him.
He landed near Allic, who stood silent in the center of the courtyard. The men around him were spreading out, rushing towards the smoldering keep at the far end of the courtyard, while others still circled overhead, alert for a trap.
There was silence, total silence. Mark and his men followed Pina in the rush towards the keep. The heavy iron doors to the sanctuary were blasted off their hinges.
He tried to go through the doorway but the stench stopped him. Gagging, fighting for control, Mark stepped into the keep.
"Oh merciful god," he groaned. Scorched bodies littered this side room. He turned away and went to the next. It was the same―this time they were mainly women and children. He saw how most had died, and he staggered out of the room, trying to keep from retching.
"Dirk! Dirk!"
Mark looked back to the main doorway. Allic was there, his entrance blocked by Valdez and several sorcerers.
A flash of light―and the men were thrown against the wall, and Allic came in.
Pina stepped out from a side room and stood silent.
"Dirk!"
"My lord Allic," Pina said softly, and Mark could see the tears in his eyes.
"Dirk?" Allic asked softly.
"He's dead, my lord," Pina said, and he gently placed his hand on Allic's shoulder.
"Allitia?"
"She's gone as well."
Allic started to press past him.
"Don't, my lord. Please don't. We'll take care of them."
"Dirk!" Allic pushed past him and rushed into the room. Pina followed him, and Mark, as if drawn in, joined them.
An aged and graying warrior lay in the center of the room, sword still in his hand. His body from the waist down was burned, blasted. Mark turned away. A woman was lying by his side, but Mark did not look.
"Oh, Dirk, my son, my son."
His son, Mark thought. Here was a man who looked in his healthy prime, as vigorous as himself, weeping over a man who looked old enough to be his grandfather.
Mark left the room and walked out of the keep.
Valdez stood to one side, the outlanders gathered around him. Valdez looked at him hopefully.
"They're all dead," Mark whispered.
Valdez braced himself, his face blank. "Dirk was the son from Allic's most beloved consort, Liuna," he said softly. "She was a mortal―no Essence. And died fifty years ago. He still mourns her. Dirk was their only son, and to the heartbreak of them both, he too was born without the Essence."
Valdez looked away for a moment.
"And you, all of you. You take your gifts so casually, when it cannot be certain that even the son of a god can give the Power to his heirs."
There was a faint stirring behind him and Mark turned to see Allic coming out of the keep, a broken, scorched body in his arms. Pina followed, carrying a cloak-covered body that must have been Dirk's wife.
Gentle hands reached out to Allic and took the body away.
"Take them back to Landra," Allic said softly. "Make a resting place for them beside Liona."
Allic looked over to Valdez as if seeing him for the first time.
"Who did this?" he asked grimly.
"There's been no evidence so far of a message crystal. We must assume the attackers found it and took it with them."
"Then what evidence do we have?"
Valdez nodded to several sorcerers who stood to one side.
The three stepped forward and dropped an assortment of spears and shields by Allic's feet.
"Macha?" Allic asked incredulously.
"It would appear so, my lord. Those are weapons of the Torms."
"And do you believe it?"
"No logic to it at all, sire. We have had problems with Macha in the past, to be sure. But Macha knew that Dirk was your son. To attack Dirk is to directly attack you."
"Then if that bastard wants war," Allic said coldly, "he'll have war,"
"It isn't logical," Valdez ventured.
"To hell with your logic. We go in tonight."
"My lord, we should at least wait till morning and check the ground. We might find more evidence then."
"I want revenge!" Allic cried.
"My lord." It was Pina, who was still standing inside the keep, and pointing at the wall beside him.
Allic turned.
"Please come here for a moment. I've found something."
Allic walked over to Pina and bent to examine the wall.
The others gathered closer and Mark turned to Valdez. "What is it?"
"Looks like battle code," Valdez replied. "All our commanders and sorcerers learn a symbolic battle code so that a message can be left. It's one of our best kept secrets. To any untrained eye, battle code looks like random scratches. A gate portal is one of the places we use to leave such messages. Maybe Dirk was able to scratch something before they broke in."
Valdez pushed closer and looked over Allic's shoulder.
"Sarnak," Valdez said, looking back at those beside him.
There was a growl from the assembly. Allic straightened and stepped out into the courtyard.
"Then it was Sarnak," Valdez said coldly. "That bastard tried to make this look like Macha's doing. They swept the place for message crystals to make sure, but they didn't see the message."
"We go for them now!" Allic cried, and several of the sorcerers cheered.
"My lord," Valdez interjected, "it could be a trap. Perhaps Sarnak wants to provoke a war between us and the Torms, but he must also expect that you might outguess him in this. If you charge into his realm without an army for support, his defenses will be too strong."
"I don't care," Allic roared. "I will be avenged!"
"Besides, my lord," Pina said, "if you should openly attack him he can turn that to his advantage. Our only proof is the scratchings in the battle code. Before all the other demigods and gods you will look like the aggressor."
"Damn them all," Allic cried. "Is not the death of my own son enough proof? What are you, simpering cowards and whining diplomats?"
"My lord!" Ikawa stepped forward. "I am new here, but I was a warrior long before you knew me. I too want revenge for what was done here. Let me propose a plan, my lord, that will catch your enemy by surprise."
"You're good at sneak attacks," Younger sneered from the back of the crowd.
Ikawa looked over at him.
Mark quickly stepped forward. "Ikawa is right, my lord, and so is Younger. Ikawa's people once hit mine with a surprise attack that even we must admit was effective. Listen to him, my lord."
Ikawa nodded respectfully at Mark, then turned back to Allic.
"Tell me then, and quickly," Allic said coldly, "but you better not be wasting my time."
The hour was very late but Ralnath knew his master would still be working. He knocked on the door and entered immediately.
"My lord, we've just detected two of Allic's triads crossing our border."
Sarnak laid down the report he was reviewing and stretched. Rising, he walked to his master crystal and activated it with a wave.
"Very curious. Why send such a weak force to reconnoiter my border? Is Allic with them?"
"No indication, my lord."
"Could it be that he is already attacking Macha?"
"Very likely, sire. Here, let me show you something." Ralnath meshed his mind with the crystal and shifted the perspective. "Right here is a very large, shielded mass heading towards Macha's realm. It's quite powerful, must have at least fifteen to twenty sorcerers to generate something that strong."
"Excellent. Step by step we approach our goal." He paused, watching the pattern of light heading farther and farther away, then switched back to the first scene with the two triads cruising slowly at the edge of his land.
"My normal pattern would be to react violently to a border violation," Sarnak said, speaking slowly, "and everything must appear normal so Allic will not suspect me of this night's work. Therefore"―his voice sharpened―"have them destroyed. Send the forces that just made the attack on Dirk―they're already in position near the border."
Chapter 9
"You're doing an excellent job," Pina said, banking over to Mark's side.
"How's that?"
"Your flying. That's it, keep up the erratic movements, wander out of formation. We want to make this look weak."
Mark wasn't sure if Pina was serious or joking about his clumsy flying techniques.
Damn, he could lead a flight of B-17s or 29s and have them wingtip to wingtip for a thousand miles. Most pilots hated tight formation work, but he loved it. But there was no stick here, no throttle to gently work up and down. This was formation flying by pure willpower. If he let his attention be diverted for just a second, he'd start to drift. Worse yet, if his attention turned to some object on the ground, the next thing he knew he was dropping towards it.
Mark realized that to fly with precision he needed to have his mind running on two different tracks simultaneously―one looking for signs of the enemy, the other maintaining formation and listening in his mind for the faint whisper of a voice when Pina projected a direction or flight change to him through the communications crystal.
Aboard a bomber there were eleven men working together as a team, to help with the flying. This must be what a fighter jock feels like when out on the prowl, Mark realized, and he could see why they loved it, once they had mastered the techniques of staying alive.
Acting as bait for Sarnak's sorcerers and demons wasn't Mark's idea of a fun time, but, he admitted, he would rather be out here with his ass on the line than be along with most of the Japanese and their escorts forming the decoy group headed towards the south. Mark was feeling more and more comfortable with his flying. If only he could feel as confident about his ability to fight―
"Your offensive crystal that Allic gave you," Pina said, "just remember to concentrate your fire through that."
"Okay, got it."
"Okay?"
"American slang... means all right."
Pina smiled at him. "Okay," and signaling for a turn, they banked back on a more easterly course, heading straight for a horizon that still showed no sign of dawn.
"I'm still not detecting anything. How about you two?" Pina glanced over at Mark and Kochanski and saw they didn't understand.
"You should be using your different senses to detect danger. Hasn't Valdez gotten that far with your training yet?"
Both shook their heads. They had no idea what he was talking about.
"This is something you should have learned already, damn it. All right, using normal vision I want you to look over at our other triad. Can you see them in the starlight?"
Mark and Kochanski struggled to make out the figures over a hundred yards away.
"Yeah, but not very well," Mark said.
"Fine. Now I want you to shift your perception to a different level. Look for heat coming from them. Tell your vision to go to red. Take control, and use the Essence to will your eyes to see heat waves."
Kochanski said, "Jesus, I'm seeing three bright red blobs."
"Now look at the ground―look for the herd of animals below us."
This time it was Mark who responded, "There's almost a solid mass of red down there. No, wait, if I look harder I can see individual dots."
"That's infrared. It's a very useful detection device. Now I want you to tell yourself to look for details in the dark. Look into the shadows at the base of the hill up ahead. Will your vision to seek reflected light, even starlight. What do you see?"
As Mark forced his gaze into the shadows everything became clearer. "Everything's green. Different shades of green."
"Just so. That is starlight vision," responded Pina.
"Christ," swore Kochanski, "I can even see a bird eating some animal it caught. This is incredible!"
"Most sorcerers can see up to several leagues away, depending on conditions. It's a talent to be developed, as early detection of an enemy can save your life." Pina smiled and continued, "You need to learn much more. There are several different kinds of vision, and just as many kinds of hearing. It will take time, but you will learn to expand your horizons."
They had been flying the box formation for an hour, experimenting with their newly discovered talents. Eventually it occurred to Kochanski to try to visualize himself using his old skill as radar operator: throw out a signal and see what bounces back.
"I'm sensing something," Kochanski shouted, coming in close to where Mark and Pina were flying.
"What's that?" Pina cried.
"Something's out there. I'm picking up a mental image. There's something rolling in on a sweeping turn to the northeast."
Pina did a quick search. "I don't sense anything." He looked over at the other formation and projected a low intensity thought through his crystal.
In response the other formation banked in. The two Americans, Walker and Goldberg, struggled to keep up with Valdez.
"They're coming in fast. Dozen or more bogeys at two o'clock!" Kochanski shouted, falling back into the old vocabulary of a different war.
"I can sense them now," Pina replied. "You're right, at least twelve of them, more like fifteen. Hang on just a little longer."
"Damn, they're coming in fast," Kochanski shouted. "Should have visual any second now."
Mark scanned the morning sky to the northeast... "Bandits two o'clock h
igh!" he shouted.
"I've got them," Kochanski replied, "coming in fast."
"Ready to retreat," Pina cried.
There were fifteen sorcerers, and twice that many demons below them, flying low to the ground. Suddenly the sorcerers clicked up their defensive shields, and the glow of their protection looked like shooting stars across the indigo sky.
"Get your shields up," Pina yelled.
Mark diverted his thoughts for a second and the faint shimmer of light surrounding him increased in intensity.
"Dive now!" Pina cried, as he rolled and went into a swooping dive that brought him out in a run towards the west.
Mark arched over, with Kochanski by his side. They plummeted straight towards the ground a half mile below. Pulling up, he leveled out into a shallow diving run back towards the western horizon.
Mark looked over his shoulder. The other triad was swinging in beside them a hundred yards to his left. A mile behind him the approaching enemies were diving to pick up speed, while the demons further down slowly pulled forward.
Pina drifted back, coming up alongside Mark and Kochanski.
"That's it, that's it, keep it erratic and let them start to gain."
Damn it, he was flying flat out. For nearly a quarter turning they ran, the enemy slowly gaining while the demons rose higher into the air to join their companions in the pursuit.
"Good formation, that," Pina shouted. "They kept the demons low while they hovered above on the edge of a cloud bank. That way, if we'd seen the demons first, we'd have dived into the attack and then they'd break on us from above. A good job, Kochanski. Now let them get closer."
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