Western Shore ac-3

by Juliet E. McKenna

  'Naldeth?' Unable to see who had been wounded, Kheda tried in vain to pick out any obvious leader among the advancing enemy. 'The wizard?'

  'I can't see him.' Risala was equally frustrated.

  Naldeth stood motionless, rapt in remote contemplation.

  Kheda staggered as the ground shook beneath his feet. The village spearmen's shouts turned to dismay as the hard-packed ridge crumbled beneath their feet. Torrents of flowing earth knocked men off their feet. As the soil turned to insubstantial sand around their roots, several of the lofty green trees fell too. They crashed downwards, ripping branches from their neighbours and crushing everything where they landed. The swathe of disintegration widened, splitting up the village spearmen. Some were forced down the face of the slope, others scrambling backwards away over the crest. Triumph edged the tree-dwellers' belligerence. Their leading spearmen broke into a run, now more than half-way across the stream bed.

  Incongruous among the consternation spreading through the village spearmen, Naldeth chuckled. A glow of ochre light spread through broken ground and the

  powdery soil turned solid once again. The magic raced away down the slope and spread across the valley. The tree dwellers retreated apprehensively and Kheda saw they were right to be concerned. The sand of the dry stream bed swirled around them like water, ripples spreading. Soon they were sinking up to their knees. Ripples grew into steeper peaks, breaking with a spume of dust and surging mercilessly over the tree dwellers like a stormy sea.

  As one man flailed frantically, he splashed the man next to him with great gouts of dirt that filled his eyes and mouth. Choking, the unfortunate clawed at his face, losing his own struggle to stay afloat. As he sank, he clutched at the nearest man, only to drag him down too. Both vanished beneath the flowing soil. Some had the presence of mind not to struggle, trying to float on the shallow waves of fluid earth, the boldest even using their spears as makeshift paddles.

  'There he is.' The young wizard wasn't looking at the tree dwellers drowning in the sand. All his attention was focused on a solitary figure emerging from the shadows on the far bank.

  The tree-dwellers' mage gestured wildly, his beaded cloak flapping. For an instant, there was silence in the valley. Then the surviving tree dwellers fought their way free of the clinging sand and ran back towards their wizard, pursued by the jeers of the village spearmen.

  'Let's see what you make of this,' Naldeth murmured.

  A surge of white water thick with broken timber and other detritus crashed down the valley. The flood drove ragged boulders to carve new channels, unearthing the bodies of tree dwellers overwhelmed by Naldeth's first spell. Those still alive and too slow to reach the far bank were unable to resist the torrent sweeping them away downstream towards the wide river bisecting the grassy plain.

  The wild wizard strode forward, making throwing motions with his hands. Fissures gaped and gulped down the flood. Stream-tossed rocks ripped themselves from the mud to hurl themselves at Naldeth, shattering into a shower of lethal fragments as they came close. The young mage raised a hand to draw an arc of amber radiance over his head that spread in a flash to cover all the exposed spearmen. The rain of broken stones came thicker and faster, only to bounce off the magelight and rebound from tree to tree with dangerous speed.

  'Kheda!' Risala pointed and the warlord saw that the tree-dwellers' warriors had regrouped and were making their way back across the muddy stream bed while the village spearmen could only cower beneath Naldeth's magic.

  Kheda looked up at the amber shield. 'Can I fire through this?' he shouted urgently.

  Naldeth didn't answer. Abruptly the hail of stones ceased. In the next breath, Naldeth's shield blinked away. Village spearmen raced down the slope to join battle with the foremost tree dwellers. With the enemy coated with mud and sand, it was impossible to tell friend from foe.

  'I daren't fire anywhere close to that melee with this bow,' Risala spat with frustration.

  As he looked in vain for the tree-dwellers' wizard, movement out on the stream bed caught Kheda's eye. He gaped and swallowed hard. 'Shoot that!'

  'But he's already dead.' Risala stared in horrified disbelief.

  The broken corpse of a tree dweller had staggered to its feet. The man's face was crushed to an anonymous ruin and the lower half of one arm had been torn away. As Kheda watched, the bones brightened with amber magic and lengthened into lethal spikes. The bones of the corpse's other hand burst through his dark fingers, curling

  into murderous claws. A second body lurched upright. Magelight shimmered around his head and his skull reshaped itself into a deadly maw somewhere between a terrible bird's beak and a lizard's crushing bite.

  Risala's bowstring thrummed beside Kheda. He fired too. The white-fletched arrows both bit deep. Neither walking corpse flinched, or veered from their determined path towards the combat now spreading across the stream bed. Magelight flickered around more bodies, forging still more vile creations. All the village spearmen were charging down the slope now, shouting reassurance to their fellows and menace to their enemies.

  'Wait!' Kheda shouted fruitlessly.

  Only the scarred spearman halted, looking back.

  Kheda ripped the hacking blade from his double-looped sword belt and tossed it down the slope. The spearman grinned and scrambled back up to get it before racing down into the fight with a blood-curdling yell.

  'Kheda—' Risala choked with horror.

  The first dead tree dweller had come up behind a village spearman who was intent on dodging a foe's crushing club. The corpse drove its bone claws deep into the village man's back, ripping out bloody handfuls of flesh. The man fell, writhing and screaming, as the monstrous corpse stepped over him to attack the next spearman. The village warrior drove his long spike of fire-hardened wood clean through the misshapen thing. It simply kept walking, the spear sliding through its body as it reached out gory talons to rip away the man's face.

  'Naldeth!' Kheda found the breath frozen in his throat as the village spearman who had just died reared back up onto his feet. Dark ochre light racked the dead man, wrenching him this way and that. White bone shot out through his chest and back as his ribs thrust outwards, covering him in deadly spines. The corpse reached for a

  man who had just been fighting at his side and crushed him in a lacerating embrace.

  'All right, Kheda, there are some evils that must be stopped.' All the young wizard's attention was concentrated on his outstretched hand. His unsheathed dagger stood upright, balanced on its pommel, slowly spinning. The steel blade burned with a searing gold that rivalled the sun.

  'What are you going to do with that?' With the vivid outline of the dagger still scarring his vision, Kheda saw the tree-dwellers' wizard standing on the far bank. He blinked and knuckled his eyes.

  No, my eyes aren 't playing tricks on me.

  One of the great trees on the far side of the dry valley was tilting drunkenly. It began to topple slowly over, silently, with no sound of snapping roots or breaking branches to betray it. The wild wizard was oblivious, all his attention consumed by the burning metal still balanced on Naldeth's palm. The ensorcelled blade was spinning so fast it was a blur.

  Kheda saw with relief that the degraded corpses the wild wizard had driven into battle had fallen back down, quite dead - for the moment, at least. He braced himself as the ground throbbed beneath his feet. Risala dropped to one knee, still looking for some target for her ready arrow. The throbbing became a low pulsing noise and grew louder, rapidly building to a physical torment. Kheda found himself fighting violent nausea and a swelling, inexorable dread.

  Tears of pure terror streamed down Risala's face, her hands trembling so much she couldn't have hit any target even if her numbed fingers had managed to loose her arrow.

  The whole fight down on the stream bed had broken into confusion. The village spearmen were fleeing, scrambling

  over the fallen trees or cowering, hands covering their ears, clubs and spears aba
ndoned. The archers had thrown away their bows. The tree dwellers were faring no better. Several of the wild men had collapsed, vomiting. Others were curled like animals on the ground, hiding their heads in their arms, knees drawn up, heedless of any enemy. The pulsing noise went on, unrelenting.

  'Naldeth—' Kheda choked on bile flooding his mouth as the tormenting sound rose to a new pitch. He threw away his makeshift bow and wrapped his arms around Risala, as if his own body might protect her from whatever catastrophic magic was about to engulf them.

  The noise stopped. In the silence, the giant tree behind the wild wizard finally collapsed. It fell toward the stream, swift and true. The upper stretch of its trunk struck the wild wizard unerringly on the top of his head and the branches threw a swishing pall over his bloody remains.

  Naldeth said something heartfelt and incomprehensible in his native Tormalin and threw away his dagger. He wrung his hands, wincing.

  Kheda saw the deep scar burned into the young wizard's flesh. 'What did you do?'

  'I tricked him.' His clothes rank with sweat and his bloodshot gaze ghastly, Naldeth nevertheless grinned like a boy caught in mischief. 'These wizards draw all the elemental power that they can find into themselves and then just throw it out in whatever way seems best. So I drew as much earth magic as I could reach into that dagger. There's no subtlety to their battles, so all he could imagine me doing was somehow turning that weapon and the power within it back against him. So he put all his efforts into trying to steal back the magic'

  Kheda glanced at the dagger and saw that the steel of the blade was blackened and distorted while the sandy soil

  around it had fused into a dirty-brown glass lump. 'So he didn't notice a tree about to fall on his head.'

  'Unfortunately for him.' Naldeth sniffed with a disdain reminiscent of Velindre.

  'You managed another victory without a slaughter of innocent women and children.' Risala was still standing within the circle of Kheda's arms.

  'That's something, isn't it?' Naldeth smiled crookedly.

  'Let's hope Velindre's managed to keep the cave dwellers alive.' Kheda looked around to see how their allies were faring. Most were scrambling to their feet, ashen beneath their coating of dirt and grease, grabbing spears more to lean on them for support than with any intent of fighting. Across the valley, the tree-dwellers' women and children were climbing slowly down from their platforms and shelters, wailing and throwing themselves to the ground in abject surrender.

  Risala looked up and down the dry stream bed now so drastically reshaped by flood and magic. 'Where was his dragon when he needed it?'

  'I don't know.' Naldeth shivered involuntarily. 'I couldn't have pulled off that trick if it had been anywhere close.'

  'Would you know if it was attacking Velindre?' Kheda looked at the forest back beyond the crest of the valley's eastern edge.

  'Oh yes,' Naldeth assured him.

  'Has it truly just given up and gone away?' Disbelieving, Risala was still looking around.

  'There must be other places on this island with easier pickings.' All the same, Kheda wasn't convinced.

  'Perhaps.' From his tone, neither was Naldeth. 'But dragons aren't known for backing away from a fight.'

  'So if it returns to finish this fight, you and Velindre will need that ruby egg.' Kheda looked out across the valley beyond the tree-dwellers' settlement.

  'Then let's make for the Zaise.' Risala pulled free of his embrace.

  'How do we do that without taking this army with us?' Naldeth wondered.

  'Let's just go.' Kheda searched for the scarred spearman among the village warriors and beckoned him forward. The warrior stepped up readily, dirty face alert. He clutched Kheda's hacking blade, the broad steel clotted with blood. Kheda encompassed the whole force with a sweeping gesture and then cut down with one hand to divide them. He found the stooped hunter in one half and pointed over to the abject tree dwellers. Holding the man's gaze, he pointed to the bloody hacking blade and shook his head slowly, his expression forbidding. The stooped hunter nodded slowly, some unidentifiable emotion clouding his brown eyes. Hoping he had made himself clear, Kheda turned his attention to the scarred spearman standing with the remaining warriors and made as if to push them all away, back towards the caves and Velindre. The scarred spearman nodded readily and called out to other hunters. The wild men began moving away, purposefully, some with a definite spring in their step.

  'I think they appreciate a victory where they're not leaving half their friends dead behind them,' Risala observed.

  Kheda looked at Naldeth. 'Are you fit to fight any more today, if we do run into that dragon?'

  'If it's that or be blasted into dust.' The young mage rubbed at his beard, bruises of tiredness under his discoloured eyes looking as if the bloodstains were spreading. 'But I'd rather not, if we can possibly avoid it. And the sooner we recover that ruby the better.'

  'Come on, then.' Kheda turned to tackle the treacherous slope down to the stream bed.

  Naldeth let slip an incomprehensible Tormalin oath.

  Turning, Kheda expected to see the young mage struggling with his false leg on the broken ground. Instead he saw a fiery ring of elemental magic shimmering on Naldeth's steel thigh.

  A bespeaking.Kheda recalled Dev's name for the spell.

  'What's happened?' Vehndre's voice echoed through the magic of fire and steel, harsh and tinny.

  'We've killed their wizard and sent the tree dwellers running in all directions.' Naldeth sounded more resigned than proud. 'We're on our way to recover the Zaise?

  'Some of our spearmen are taking charge of the tree dwellers but the rest should be making their way back to you.' Kheda wasn't sure if the magewoman could hear him.

  'Get back here with the ship as fast as you can.'

  Even allowing for the distortion of the spell, Kheda could hear strain in Vehndre's clipped words. 'Has something happened?'

  Naldeth peered into the scarlet circle, frowning with growing concern. 'What's the matter?'

  'Just get back here. We need the Zaise —' This time there was no mistaking the catch of a sob in Vehndre's voice.

  'Is it the dragon?' Naldeth clenched impotent fists.

  'No.' Velindre rallied. 'There's no dragon or any wild mage here and I can hold off anything short of that till you get back.' A treacherous quaver shook her voice and the spell blinked into nothingness.

  'Give me an arrow, a feather, something to burn.' Naldeth held out a hand to Kheda 'I'll bespeak her and—'

  'There's something wrong.' Risala looked uncertainly at Kheda.

  'Yes.' He waved away Naldeth's hand. 'But whatever it is, it's not so wrong that Velindre couldn't use her magic

  to speak to us, and she didn't ask us to come straight back to her.' Kheda began walking cautiously down the slope. 'And she's right. We need the Zaise. We can probably get back to her as quickly with the ship as we could by walking.'

  'Naldeth,' Risala said abruptly, 'what gemstone would an earth dragon seek above all others for its egg?'

  'Amber,' the wizard replied readily. 'Not rubies.'

  'I think we'd know if the black dragon had found the Zaise.' Kheda drew his sword as they advanced across the mud. The stooped hunter and his contingent of spearmen were just reaching the tree-dwellers' settlement. A few looked curiously at the mage and the two Aldabreshi but none made any move to follow them.

  'We can be grateful for the awe that wizards inspire around here,' Naldeth said sardonically.

  'They all appreciate that you're well able to take care of yourself.' Kheda was relieved to find that he could see clearly through the tall forest on the far side of the stream bed for a reassuring distance.

  The spiny underbrush thinned out as they left the bank behind and the sturdier, more densely leaved trees soon gave way to the twisted nut trees with their scanty foliage. Kheda kept his sword drawn all the same, Risala tense with vigilance at his side. The dappled, spindly trees grew sparser still and Kheda
saw grey rock and parched brown earth ahead ending abruptly in the knife-like cliff. He searched the ragged edge outlined against the western sky for any possible hint of a lurking dragon.

  'Do you remember exactly where that cave is?' He tossed the question back over his shoulder.

  'Yes.' Naldeth was toiling up the slope with scant breath to spare.

  'Which way do we go from here?' Gripping the hilt of his sword, Kheda walked warily out into the open. The

  sun beat down with unrelenting fury and the sea breeze offered no more than an illusion of coolness. A moment after it brushed Kheda's forehead, he realised it was as hot as a furnace breath. The headache that had been stubbornly lingering since the assault of the cloaked wizard's magic assailed him with new force.

  'There.' Naldeth pointed unerringly to a rocky protrusion.

  They made haste towards it, fresh sweat beading every

  brow.

  A thought chilled Kheda despite the punishing heat. 'Naldeth, can you get the Zaise out of that cave on your own? If Velindre was using magic on the waters to keep

  it there—' .

  'It's easier to unpick an antipathetic element than it is to work with it,' the young mage said curtly. 'I see you re learning something about magic,' he added with the faintest

  of smiles.

  They reached the bluff and gathered in what little shade it offered There was no lessening of the heat.

  'I haven't the energy or the inclination to be subtle about this.' Naldeth's chest heaved as he laid both hands on the rock and pressed his face up against the stone. The rock cracked with a violence that shook the barren cliff top. Ochre light shimmered around Naldeth's fingers and the solid rock turned to glittering sand that flowed down to heap up around the wizard's feet. A shift in the wind blew a pale plume out over the cliff edge. Naldeth spread his hands and the void in the rock widened, ruddy-golden magic still pouring from his hands.

  'There you are.' He coughed, brushing dust from his filthy tunic. Wincing, he blew on the raw score burned deep into his palm.