The Spear of Stars

by Edward W. Robertson

  Dante gave his words the moment of silence they deserved. "You're right. Running away from the city they put in danger is so dishonorable it will keep the bards employed for generations. But we're still here. And we can still fight."

  "Oh, feel free to fight him as much as you like, Lord Galand. But it's long past time for me to look to the good of my people. That, after all, is why the lich has come here. It isn't to take the city. It's to take the people who live in it. So I shall take them away from him, and rally all Mallon to make our next defense."

  Pressings gave him a salute, then smacked his courser, trotting off toward his men.

  "Well, this is a tough one," Blays said. "Am I still allowed to call him a bastard when I think he's completely right?"

  "This is a dark day," Gladdic said. "He has recognized its darkness and acted accordingly. The ability to do so without succumbing to pride or false hope is among the highest marks of leadership."

  Dante clenched his jaw to stop himself from yelling at the Mallish to stay and fight for their land. The others were right. They had made their stand, and it had been good, but in the end, the Eiden Rane had found a way to outflank them. If they denied this simple truth because they felt like they should have won, they would all die here.

  He beckoned to Nak. "Where is Winden? Has she come back with the dreamflowers?"

  The portly councilman shook his head. "There's been no sign of her since she and her escorts left for the palace."

  "Were they mounted?"

  "I wasn't about to send them out into these conditions on foot. There's a war on!"

  "Then they've had more than enough time to return." Dante cursed and ran after the duke. "Lord Pressings!" The man twitched his head to the side, but didn't look back. "Lord Pressings! You will hear me!"

  The duke broke off from the conversation he'd just began with his officers and looked down on Dante with unvarnished scorn. "If you're trying to convince my people to commit suicide here, I suggest you take the lead and see if that inspires them to follow."

  "When the Eiden Rane comes for you again, how will you stop him from doing the same thing he just did to us here?"

  "I can't. So I suppose we'll have to muster up our bollocks and meet him in the field."

  "He'll have even more troops than he did here. He'll overwhelm you. It would be no less suicidal than it is to stay here."

  "Is that supposed to convince me to stick around and fight?"

  "I think I know where the portals came from," Dante said. "If I can investigate them, I might be able to stop him from using them again. But to investigate the cause, I need to get to the palace. I need more time."

  "If I grant you your time, how certain are you that you will be able to learn to neutralize these doorways?"

  "It's sorcery. It's about as predictable as a cat that's had its cream swapped for brandy. But untangling its mysteries is what I was born to do."

  Pressings gave him a long look, then glanced at his people and winced. "If we stay too long, we risk the lich using a new set of portals to surround us. I will stay to evacuate the city for the next three hours. After that, if you remain here, you will remain on your own."

  20

  Dante gave Pressings a deep nod. "You may have just saved Mallon."

  "Not if you insist on wasting your time telling me what I already know. Hie to the palace, will you?"

  Dante snorted and ran back across the square. "Pressings will try to remain in the city for three hours. Nak, resume command of our forces and work with him to evacuate as many people as you can. But if the lich makes a move and the choice comes down to you or the locals, you get our troops to safety."

  "Happily," Nak said. "But what will you be doing? Searching for Winden?"

  "And the dreamflowers. I'm taking Blays and Gladdic with me."

  "Er, is it necessary for you to go? Won't it be quite dangerous?"

  "Unless we find out how to stop the lich from relocating his army at will, we'll never be able to mount a defense against him again. That means it's far more dangerous for me to delegate this task to somebody else. Now do as I say!"

  Nak made noises of assent and rejoined the soldiers and priests of Narashtovik. Dante requisitioned four horses. The three of them mounted up.

  There was still a great deal of fighting going on in the streets, including the one Dante had helped the Mallish capture just minutes before, obliging their little group to swing to the north before correcting course toward the palace, which lay near the center of the city and not far from the eastern shore of the Chanset.

  Dante sent two of his flies winging ahead to scout for groups of Blighted. They were running around in significant numbers just about everywhere, but he intended to have to contend with as few of them as possible. He galloped wherever it was safe to do so. While three hours seemed like a good two hours more than necessary to reach the palace and find the flowers—and, hopefully, Winden—they'd passed the point where anything could be predicted any longer.

  One of Dante's flies spotted the tail end of a horde of Blighted entering the river from the western shore. Shortly thereafter, the first of them began to climb out on the eastern bank, running out into the city.

  The three of them skirted the Blighted for half a mile, then bore southwest. Blays glanced back down the road and did a double take. Behind them, a massive message was written in blazing light across the sky: "GET OUT." An arrow pointed to the north.

  "Don't know what I'm more impressed by," Blays said. "The efficiency of that, or the laziness."

  People began to filter from their homes into the streets, individuals and families accumulating into mobs not unlike the ones that had once threatened Dante's work on the now-defunct outer defenses.

  Gladdic watched them pass, then bowed his head in thought. "The most significant reason we have not been able to contain the Eiden Rane is that he continues to extract the remnants from large populations, expanding his individual power along with the size of his army. His key resource, then, is people. If we wish to defeat him, perhaps we should starve him of this resource."

  Blays sighed. "Why do all of your solutions involve mass murder?"

  "Not everyone needs be culled. Some could be hidden away to rebuild their populations once the threat has been broken. Though you might find this solution distasteful, you cannot deny that it would render him far more vulnerable to us."

  "You can't deny that such a solution would render us far more vulnerable to being mass murderers."

  "If the situation worsens beyond all conventional disaster, then we must consider means that lie beyond all conventional morality."

  "If things get that bad," Dante said, "then we might have something to discuss. Until then, I'd prefer not to do the lich's job for him."

  Through his flying scouts, Dante watched an influx of the Blighted that had crossed the river a few minutes earlier and were now heading up the same road the three of them were presently riding down. Dante cut south by two blocks. The Blighted, catching wind of something they liked—or perhaps with orders to rampage as they pleased—thronged outside the gates of an imposing octagonal building with a large courtyard in its center. Some of the undead were carrying woodsman's axes and iron bars, which they used to bash through the chains closing the gates. The people inside began to scream, the sound carrying over the shorter buildings.

  Blays perked up his ears. "What's that?"

  "Nothing," Dante said. "It's probably just the wind."

  "Ah yes, the fabled Northern Wind of Women and Children Screaming Their Guts Out." Blays slowed his horse. "We've got to get them out of here."

  "We absolutely don't."

  "That's what we're here to do now, right? Evacuate the city?"

  "We are here to acquire the only thing that can stop us from getting our asses trounced again."

  "And we've got more than enough time to do both."

  "This is their fate," Gladdic mused. "They cannot protect themselves, which means they are
nothing more than fodder for the lich's army. It is now their role to buy us time."

  "Then as mighty people of strength and valor, it's our role to relocate them to somewhere that they won't get eaten by monsters. Come on!"

  Blays wheeled about, heading for a narrow cross street that would take him toward the source of the screams. Dante yelled at him, but this had about as much effect as trying to choke a tree. Gladdic gave Dante an amused look and followed after Blays. Muttering to himself, Dante did the same.

  Blighted were packed around the gate to the building's courtyard. Some were attempting to climb the outer wall, using windows, ledges, and clotheslines for holds. Women leaned out the windows above them, flinging down plates, cups, and chairs, knocking some of the climbers down into the street, which was now littered with the debris of their missiles.

  Dante used his knife to nick the back of his arm. Hearing Blays' hoofbeats, the Blighted spun around and charged him. Blays drew his blades and curved his mount to the right, sweeping across the uneven line of Blighted, leaving a trail of severed arms and heads in his wake.

  Gladdic pelted the undead with precise blows of ether, each one knocking one of the enemy to their death. Dante unsheathed his sword and shadowed Blays, hacking at anything within his reach and using the nether to clobber anything that got too close.

  A few of the women in the windows cheered them, but most simply vanished inside. There had been dozens of Blighted out in the street, yet the three of them swept through their foes in little over a minute. Blays made a final pass and headed for the open gates, leaving Dante and Gladdic to mop up the last of them. The Blighted were all too happy to oblige this process, rushing the two horsemen even though they'd just seen a small army of their peers do the same without so much as scratching them.

  The last body smacked to the cobbles. Dante crossed through the gates. The courtyard was a mixture of paving stones and grass. At either end, a set of stairs zigzagged upward, leading to a terrace that wrapped around each of its seven floors. Blighted were choking both staircases and pouring onto the lower floors. Several of the doors had already been smashed open, the residents dragged out to be bound up or eaten on the spot.

  Blays tipped back his head. "This is about to get messy."

  Dante pulled nether out of his remaining shaden. "Good. It's much easier to get things done when you don't have to worry about making a mess."

  He unleashed a torrent of nether at the top of one of the staircases. It parted from the wall with a squall of iron, beginning to tip over as slowly as the descent of the sun in the sky. It smashed into the ground, dashing the Blighted into wretched gobs.

  Blays jumped from the saddle and sprinted to the other staircase. Most of the Blighted ignored them, continuing to ram their way through the closed doors, but some ran down the stairs to meet them. Blays stood at the bottom, dicing them apart. Dante dismounted and stood at Blays' side, the bottleneck of the stairs funneling everyone who came at them to their death.

  With a group hiss, the Blighted withdrew up the steps to the first landing, waiting with their arms bowed, short claws extended. Blays glanced at Dante, who nodded. Blays headed up first. As he neared the landing, Dante rattled off eight bolts of nether, slaying six Blighted and wounding two others. Blays sliced into the gap, swords flashing purple as they made contact with flesh. Dante inserted himself to Blays' right. Gladdic supported them from below, thinning the incoming attackers to prevent the two of them from being overwhelmed.

  It was grim work, the steady rise and fall of supernaturally sharp blades through supernaturally possessed bodies. It was a few minutes before the last of the Blighted fell. Sweating and breathing heavily, Blays and Dante checked the broken-open doors, but the interiors held neither survivors or Blighted.

  Blays sheathed his swords and walked out to the terrace. He tipped back his head and cupped his hands to his mouth. "The danger's over. Now let's get you out of here before another danger shows up to take its place!"

  His voice echoed in the high courtyard, fading to nothing. After several seconds of silence, one of the doors opened on the sixth floor.

  "We can't leave!" the man called. "It's death out there!"

  "And what is it if you stay trapped in here? Why do you think the Blighted were knocking on your doors, to invite you down to kick the ball around?"

  Other doors swung carefully open. Heads poked out from around the upper terraces.

  The man shook his head. "But there are only three of you. That isn't enough!"

  "No, that means there isn't enough of them. Now get your asses down here! We're leaving the city!"

  A woman emerged holding a small child. "The enemy is too many. We'd never make it all that way!"

  Blays gripped his temples and lowered his head.

  In the courtyard, Gladdic spread his arm wide. "The gods have sent you a savior. If you deny it, are you so vain to believe they will send you a second one?"

  The residents exchanged a series of glances. A redheaded woman pulled three children out to the terrace. "The rest of you can stay and get dragged from your holes for all I care. I'm going while the going's here!"

  She led her children to the staircase. This provoked several others to duck inside and bring out their families, which in turned provoked a mass exodus out onto the walkway. Nearly everyone had had the good sense to pack up their vital belongings in advance, and they assembled in the courtyard within a matter of minutes as Gladdic kept watch on the gates.

  But a few refused to come down, watching from their doorways. Blays beckoned broadly, then tried more shouting. "Do you see the pile of bodies here? The creepy dead-looking ghouly things? If you stay here, this is what the White Lich will make of you. And some day soon after that, it'll be you that's pounding down the doors of families trapped in their homes, with no escape from your claws."

  Half of those remaining stirred, grabbing their things and the other people they were living with. But as many as twenty stayed where they were, watching from their doorways as Dante and Blays led the others out of the courtyard and into the street. Blays raised his voice even louder, his goading exhortations echoing from the walls. Dante set his hand on Blays shoulder. Blays gritted his teeth, turned away, and mounted up.

  Dante took to his horse, he and Blays at the head of the column while Gladdic rode at the rear. He sent one of his flies circling the streets around them while another mapped the clearest route they could manage toward the city wall. The smell of smoke was on the air and the clang of fighting reached them from the south and east. With all the children among their charges, they couldn't ride at anything more than a modest walk.

  "There," Blays said once they were underway. "This isn't so bad, is it?"

  "We're currently marching directly away from an objective which is vital to our interests of not being completely destroyed," Dante said, deciding it would be cruel to mention all of the other screams in the distance they were presently ignoring, as well as the scenes of savagery he was seeing through the eyes of his scouts. "But other than that, it's just wonderful."

  "Well, I feel better about it."

  They were two miles from the wall—which, at their current pace, would cost them close to forty minutes, plus the time needed to gallop to the palace—but there was a detachment of Narashtovik's soldiers holding the intersection of two boulevards a mile to the northeast, and Dante directed their party toward them. Within minutes, hundreds of Blighted began to flow through the streets around the building they'd cleared out. He mentioned as much to Blays.

  Blays glanced over his shoulder. "Are they following us?"

  "It could be. Or else they've got the same orders the ones we killed had. Either way, they're catching up. I'm not sure we'll reach our friends before our foes reach us."

  "Crazy idea, but might I suggest running?"

  Dante spread word to the citizens. Mothers and fathers scooped up as many of the smaller children as they could. They broke into a gentle trot. It still wasn'
t as fast as the Blighted, but from what Dante could see, they had enough of a lead to beat the enemy to their destination.

  Yet as they jogged onward, it became clear that it was still going to be closer than he would have liked. As his fly passed over the streets to the east, he sat up straight in the saddle.

  "There's another group coming for us," he said. "They have at least one lesser lich with them. A hell of a lot of Blighted, too. And they're between us and the soldiers."

  Blays swore. "Hammer and anvil. Has to be intentional. What do you want to do?"

  "Go back in time and not stop to help these people. Failing that, find a way to sneak past the enemy. If we get in a fight against numbers like these, a lot of these people are going to die."

  "It's times like these I really wish dragons were real and that we had some. How about we stash the citizens in a building while we deal with the rabble?"

  "Or stash them and send for someone else to extract them."

  "That sounds more like a way to fill up the breadbox for the Blighted's convenience."

  "What Gladdic said about the fate of these people earlier was harsh, but it was right. Our mission is much more important."

  Blays ran his hand down his face. "Open up a hole in the ground. We'll pile everyone inside and then you seal it up. They'll never know we're there."

  "We have no idea how long we might have to wait down there. And the longer we're delayed, the more Blighted will be running around in the streets."

  "Okay, then make it a tunnel. All the way to our soldiers."

  Dante gave it a moment's thought. "That would drain too much of my strength. I might need everything I've got to retrieve the dreamflowers."

  "Well, if it's that hopeless, don't just stick them inside a building to be found by any Blighted who peeks through the window. At least put them up on a roof somewhere."

  "That's an even better idea." Dante's eyebrow twitched. He sent his fly winging over the neighborhoods on the approach to the soldiers in silver and black. "But not as good as this one. It would take too much effort to make a path under the ground. But it won't take nearly as much to build one through the sky."