by Sam Puma
Ladders were up all over the front wall. Many of them were sent back down before the Cruxai had a chance to ascend, but many of them were filling up with Cruxai making their way up onto the wall. The soldiers couldn’t hold every point on the wall, so some positions had to be held by civilians who lacked the elite skills and speed of the soldiers.
“Mount up, Jankaro,” said Oranos through gritted teeth as he swung down and chopped through a hairy and the ladder he climbed in one cut. “As they advance through the city streets, fight as you please. Don’t get in the middle of it. Stay to the edges and take them out one by one without getting yourself surrounded.”
“Yes, my king.”
Jankaro and Ixtlayo were more than ready to engage the Cruxai together. Jankaro seized the rope that dangled over the back of the wall walk and lowered himself onto Ixtlayo’s back, careful not to make a sudden impact. Ixtlayo growled and paced. Together they watched the fight on the wall and waited for any Cruxai that might get in.
“To the roofs!” The king cried with all his might, and the entire Galdean force began their exodus from the front wall. The civilians were the first to lower themselves down the hundreds of ropes that lined the interior. The soldiers maintained the fight on the front wall, holding off the Cruxai while they made their escape. Ixtlayo waited, poised and ready for his moment to shine. “Jankaro!” The king cried out from atop the wall. “I will lure them down the main road. Guard my back!” As the civilians came down, they ran to the city and assumed positions on the rooftops and balconies of the buildings.
“Altamont!” Jankaro called to his mentor as he watched him running toward his shop with a sword in hand and blood running down his forehead. Altamont was too focused to take notice as he led three other fighters to his roof where a cache of weapons was staged.
The fighting on the wall intensified as the civilians vacated the wall walk and made room for the soldiers and Cruxai to clash. The soldiers shouldered their bows and freed their swords as the wall walk filled up with Cruxai. Blades slashed rapidly in all directions, gleaming in the torchlight. The first Cruxai to reach the interior of Calixo were the dead, dismembered and disemboweled. Ixtlayo jerked forward as they touched down, only to realize that his work had not yet begun.
The first Juruga made it up onto the wall, and soon thereafter, the first Galdean soldier to fall came crashing down, impaled and bleeding from a fatal wound. The front gate creaked as the Jurugas resumed smashing into it.
“Soldiers, fall back!” Oranos bellowed as he continued swinging his sword wildly and beheading any Cruxai that came near. The acid spit of a Juruga splashed across his back, but he was protected by his yanigo armor.
Collectively the Galdean soldiers took the ropes and slid down. Janesa was one of the first. Most of the soldiers sprinted for the rooftops, but she ran to her horse and mounted. Orion, slowed by his artificial leg, was one of the last to come down. Jankaro fired an arrow into the Cruxai who tried to take advantage while he was grabbing the rope. When Oranos leapt down from the wall, the Cruxai erupted in a jagged chorus of garbled battle cries, pumping their fists in the air while they took a moment to celebrate their victory.
“Go ahead and celebrate, you mongrel filth!” Oranos yelled, waving them forward with his giant, bloodied sword. “Your death awaits you!”
Jorobai flopped around as various parts of his body crashed into the back of Gondaro’s neck. His arms cried out in pain from the exertion of hanging on to Gondaro’s fur, but he knew that if he lost his grip, he would fall to his death. The two titans exchanged ferocious growls as they attacked each other. Since the clash with Jugon Drogon, Gondaro’s growls had increased with ferocity as much as with volume. He had one purpose alone: to kill the black giant. The giant’s growls were deep and guttural. He uttered hateful words, their meaning masked by the language spoken only by monsters. He made Jugon Drogon seem like a rabid jungle dog.
Jorobai could see nothing. When he realized his eyes were closed, he opened them. But nothing changed. The night was dark, and their battle had ranged far from the glowing torchlight. Gondaro was quick with his pounces, and at some point, the giant abandoned his staff in favor of his hands. Gondaro wasn’t the only one with sharp claws. Jorobai could sense his pain and smell his blood as the battle raged on.
Gondaro pounced and the giant grabbed his front paws. Together they toppled to the earth and rolled. Jorobai was protected from getting crushed by the gap created against the curve of Gondaro’s neck. But his foot hit the ground and twisted unnaturally. He grunted with the pain, and when they rolled over again, the strength in his arms gave out, and he took a short fall to the ground the moment Gondaro was on his back.
The titans continued their raging battle while Jorobai tried to get up. They disturbed the shapes of mountains, changed the course of rivers, and killed any sleeping creature that failed to awaken in time to move out of the way. His back muscles seized up, and he collapsed. He knew only desperation. He wanted to do something to tip the scales of the fight, but he knew not what. He was a tiny creature to them, armed only with a dagger, hobbled by a body that refused to move.
The Galdeans took to the rooftops and fired flaming arrows into the ropes as the Cruxai used the ropes to descend from the wall. Oranos waved his arms and coaxed Ixtlayo to back down the main street.
“If they want the straight path they come through me.” He pointed to his chest and gestured his plan as he spoke to Ixtlayo. “My people will cover me, but I need you to cover my back and take out any Cruxai who try to take the long way and get around behind me. Is that clear?”
Ixtlayo grunted and growled. Jankaro wondered if Ixtlayo would comply with the king’s plan or take matters into his own paws.
Oranos called to his forces as the horde streamed over the wall. They lifted ladders up to help get over once all the ropes burned away. Many of them simply jumped off the wall, often breaking their legs in the process. The Galdeans filled them with arrows as they advanced. Cruxai archers perched on the wall walk and returned fire, killing some of the Galdean civilians. The front gate was broken and two Jurugas charged forward, followed by an endless stream of Cruxai.
Jankaro felt Ixtlayo’s impulse to charge and pounce. “Wait,” he commanded, and to his surprise, Ixtlayo held back behind the king. Oranos held his sword high, ready to battle the charging Jurugas, but they were killed by poison arrows before they reached him.
The Cruxai charged forward, eager to challenge the king. “No eyes!” Orion called the warning at the top of his lungs as two more Galdean civilians fell forward off the roofs, hypnotized by common Cruxai. “Don’t look in their eyes!”
Thousands of Cruxai filled the marketplace. They struggled to get to the Galdeans on the roofs, and soon realized they needed to bring their ladders forward. They scattered into the city, looking for ways up as they were attacked by Galdean arrows and falling rocks. They filled the main street, but Oranos and a few of his officers blocked their path. His sword reached out in wide arcs, cleaving through four or five of them at once. Three more advancing Jurugas were taken down by poison arrows. Any Cruxai that made it past the front line and broke free were hunted by Ixtlayo. His health seemed to be holding up well in the early stages of the fighting as he quickly pounced and disposed of the first twenty, all of the common variety. Some were so small that their bodies exploded under his weight.
Oranos backed up slowly, enticing the Cruxai to fill up the street. He made quick work of any Cruxai who came near him. The Jurugas couldn’t get close. The archers with the poison arrows were quick to dispose of them before they got too far past the front wall.
The battle was going well. Agustin was gone. Only a few Galdean casualties compared to thousands of Cruxai dead. But the Cruxai were rapidly flooding into Calixo. They had ladders going up and seized a few roofs, casting the Galdeans off or sending them scurrying back in retreat.
“Torch t
he market!” Orion yelled. Flaming arrows struck the dry wooden shacks of the market, and a wall of fire brought the Cruxai’s steady advance to a halt.
Jankaro urged Ixtlayo down a side street and engaged the Cruxai at a structure they had surrounded. A hairy turned and swung his sword at Ixtlayo’s leg, but Ixtlayo was quicker, getting his paw below the swing and sweeping him off his feet. He drove the spikes of his metal paw down into his chest and back out again. Jankaro fired arrows at any Cruxai he could see through the choking smoke.
The Galdeans fell back using long wooden planks that extended from one rooftop to the next. Once across, they would pull the plank with them so the Cruxai could not follow.
The fire delayed the advance of the horde, giving the Galdeans time to finish off the few thousand of them that filled the city. Ixtlayo prowled up and down the streets, killing anything in his way. When Janesa came galloping in his direction, he leapt up and over her horse to face the twelve mounted Cruxai archers that pursued her. Arrows came flying at them as Ixtlayo charged. One grazed Jankaro’s head as he ducked. Several arrows hit the front of Ixtlayo’s body as he charged, but in a moment he was on them. He thrashed and swiped, taking them down one by one. Jankaro wanted to fire but had to hold on. Janesa turned around and fired on them, taking out three while Ixtlayo took out the rest.
“He got hit,” she said as Ixtlayo drove his metal claws into the last remaining lizard mount.
“So did you,” said Jankaro, noticing blood running down Janesa’s arm.
“It’s not bad,” she said. “We have some time while that fire is burning. Follow me and lets see if we can patch him up a little bit.” Jankaro coaxed Ixtlayo to follow Janesa toward the back wall, and noticed he was limping.
By the back wall the smoke was not as bad. Some of the archers positioned themselves on the wall, while most of the Galdean forces regrouped on rooftop positions farther back in the city. Orion led the soldiers in disposing of the rest of the Cruxai that got through, while the rest of the horde delayed their advance, waiting for the fire to die down.
Janesa worked free all of the arrows that hit Ixtlayo. “Not too bad. Nothing deep, but he is limping.” Her forehead creased with concern as she surveyed the pain in the Ashtari’s face. “He is suffering.”
“Should we give him juzi stick?”
“Better to wait on that.” Janesa grimaced, struggling to find the words in front of Ixtlayo. “Wait until he is really struggling.” Jankaro’s gut twisted. He knew what she implied. The battle would be long, and he might need to use the juzi stick multiple times. He looked into her eyes and saw the morbid truth. He was going to ride Ixtlayo into the ground, and they needed to suck every ounce of fight out of him. He wanted to set Ixtlayo free and send him back to the jungle, but they were in too deep. There was no way out except through the Cruxai. And ultimately, it wasn’t just Ixtlayo who faced that situation. Many of the Galdeans were injured or dead, and there was much more fighting yet to come. Only a small fraction of the Cruxai horde was defeated, and they had already claimed the first wall.
“I’ll give him breath of life for now.” Janesa unbuckled the gourd from Ixtlayo’s back and poured it for him.
“How many poison arrows do you have left?”
“Two.”
Janesa frowned and shook her head.
“Everything is happening so fast. It seems like every time I hit a Juruga, he gets hit with three other poison arrows. We’re wasting them, but we couldn’t just let them charge. We had to take them out.”
Jankaro counted enough fish with Jorobai in his childhood to know that the math didn’t look good. They had two hundred poison-tipped arrows but had likely gone through most of them to take down a handful of the Jurugas. He hoped the other archers had been more conservative, but that was likely not the case. He hoped the king had more tricks and traps that were yet to be revealed. The harsh truth was that Oranos was likely counting on Ixtlayo to be his last trick.
A Familiar Face
Jorobai rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees. He gritted his teeth and willed the spasms in his back to subside. The sounds of the battling gargantuans faded into the distance. He was alone in the dark for a moment until he heard a large creature advancing on him.
“Jorobai!” A familiar voice called to him.
He looked to his right and saw the silhouette of a strange creature advancing on him in the darkness. It was a few feet taller than him, and had four legs and hooved feet, with a head like a man. He tried to identify it in the darkness as he reached for the knife tucked into his belt. The creature lifted a human arm.
“Jorobai, it’s me, Kayo.”
Jorobai’s jaw dropped in awe.
“Kayo?!” A rush of joy came over him as he recognized the voice of his friend from back home. Confusion set in as he watched the top half of the creature separate from its bottom half. “What happened to your body?”
Jorobai squinted in the darkness and saw Kayo in his normal form, walking over to him, separate from the creature he was riding.
“It’s a horse. Haven’t you heard of them?”
“Oh yes, I forgot. My father told me the people outside the jungle ride them. But you…”
“I am not from Olaya. I rode horses before I ever met you.” He knelt next to Jorobai. “Here, take a sniff of this.”
Jorobai smelled Kayo’s hands and recoiled. He suddenly felt very awake. His pain faded and he stood.
“We must go! I think we found my son! He is in the stone village!”
Jorobai waved his arms as he spoke and started to walk away, but Kayo took his arm with a firm grip.
“Wait. You don’t even know where you are going. I will take you there, but there is something we need to do first.”
“Kayo, my son needs help!” Jorobai felt his anger burst forth as he shouted at Kayo and ripped his arm away from him.
“He does. And I will help you help him. But first we must help your Ashtari. If he loses that fight,” Kayo gestured into the distance, “Jankaro and all of those people will die under the feet of that giant. Come with me on my horse, and we will help the Ashtari.”
“How do you know Jankaro is there?”
“I will explain later. Now we must go! Watch me climb on the horse and climb up behind me.” Kayo approached his horse. “See the strap? You put your foot in here like this, take my hand, and swing your other leg over. You can hold on to me.”
Kayo mounted the horse deftly as he gave the instructions.
Jorobai resolved that there was no point in arguing. He didn’t know the way back to the stone village. He put his foot in the strap and Kayo helped him up onto the back of the horse.
Kayo urged his horse forward. He handed Jorobai a gourd. “Drink. You need your strength.” Jorobai drank from the gourd, and the water, sweetened with floral essences, soothed his dry lips and throat.
“Here, eat.” Kayo passed back a pouch and Jorobai ate strips of dried salted meat as the horse galloped forward through the night.
The food lifted his spirits, and he pondered the situation. “Kayo, how do you expect to help Gondaro?”
“You call the giant Ashtari Gondaro? That has a nice ring to it. Sounds like Jankaro.”
“That was the idea.”
“After this is over, you must tell me the tale of how you got him. You are a more powerful man than I ever imagined.”
“Well actually, it was…”
“I’m not sure yet how we can help Gondaro. But I brought weapons.”
Jorobai followed the nod of Kayo’s head and noticed the array of spears, knives, and arrows strapped to the horse’s sides. “And powerful medicines for you and Gondaro. And powerful poisons for Agustin.”
“Agustin?”
“The giant.”
“How do you know him?”
“All sham
ans know him. He commanded the Cruxai, the mongrels, as you call them, to kill my mother and my tribe. My father and I escaped.” Jorobai heard hatred in Kayo’s words, and it stirred the vicious wound that he had been carrying for over fourteen years. “He is responsible for what happened to your family and your tribe. Tonight, he dies.”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Jorobai roared long and loud into the night sky. “Tonight he dies!” His pulse raced as they approached the sound of Gondaro’s roars.
The Cruxai allowed the fire to burn down before they continued their advance into the city. It gave the Galdeans time to catch their breath and tend to their wounds, but when the Cruxai finally moved, they didn’t come single file. They spread out into the marketplace and into the city, filling every street. They claimed every structure and rooftop as they finished off any Galdeans who were too injured to retreat.
Jankaro tracked the positions of the Jurugas as best he could, but even from his vantage point, perched on Ixtlayo’s shoulders, it was difficult to see past the buildings. He had to rely on the soldiers on the rooftops for reports.
“Coming in range of our arrows,” a soldier announced from his position toward the front of the city.
“Jankaro,” Orion called down from the back wall. “Don’t charge into the horde and get yourself surrounded. Stay within the range of the archers up here so we can back you up.” Jankaro nodded his compliance and turned his attention back to watching the advance as the soldiers in the front began firing arrows.
The Cruxai pressed forward and returned fire from the rooftops they had claimed. Jankaro cringed as a soldier took an arrow through his hand. The front line fell back, removing the planks behind them as they went.
When the Galdeans on the back wall began firing, Jankaro spurred Ixtlayo forward. “Go left!” Janesa called out. “Turn down Highland Street, there’s three Jurugas down there.”
Some members of the Galdean militia were too quick to fall back. When the first Cruxai arrow came close to their rooftop, they retreated to the back wall before they took any Cruxai casualties. Other fighters were too brave. They kept fighting until their buildings were surrounded. By the time the Cruxai were climbing onto the roof to engage them, and they turned to fall back, their plank had already been tossed to the ground.