Resurgence

by Alex Janaway

  Down below, cantering in a wide formation, was another one of the heavy cavalry wings. The flank having no doubt been declared free of defenders by the earlier probing of elven scouts. The way around was open, a wide stretch of land between the hill they held and more woodland to the east. Plenty of room to manoeuvre for a cavalry force. They could circle round, send troops up the slope to attack the rear.

  As the first elements of cavalry sped past the hill, there was movement from the trees. A band of pikemen emerged, perhaps a hundred, those he had stripped from the front line after they had repelled the first assault. Behind them the fog was spreading out fast, rolling down the hillside, more rising from the earth. Owen could hardly credit it, seeing the shamans’ elemental magic in action. It would hide their true numbers, create discord and make control harder for the elves.

  He hoped.

  The pikes formed into a tight circle even as the cavalry caught on to what was happening. They started to wheel, looking to engage. But as the first to arrive discovered, getting inside that circle was not so easy. Horses shied away as pikes jabbed. Other riders tried to charge with their lances, but they were too short to get through. The militia kept shifting, rolling forwards, individuals constantly moving to meet the next threat. The cavalry started to organise, elements pulling back. Someone down there was getting a grip of the situation. An encirclement was beginning, the militia had gone too far away from the safety of the trees. Owen spotted elves dismounting. Perhaps there were bow-armed scouts among them. The militia would be whittled away to nothing. Then, appearing in his field of vision, another force appeared from the north, galloping at speed. Devlin. And the elves had yet to respond, their focus elsewhere. That was his signal too.

  ‘Cadarn? Are you there?’

  ‘Yes, Owen.’

  ‘Come join the fun.’

  ‘On our way.’

  Owen raised his arm high. ‘Anneli, take us south.’

  ‘Alright, Owen.’

  She raised her arm, Jussi following when he saw her signal.

  That was everyone.

  Anneli turned sharply, banking away from the circle they had been describing and each eagle followed suit. Owen glanced back. Devlin and his mounted militia had arrived and the melee was drawing in more of the elven cavalry.

  Anneli took them beyond the battle towards the estuary stream, then back in a tight curve, each eagle doing the same. They formed up in a line heading straight for the cavalry. Coming from the west, Cadarn and others joined the formation. Owen cried out again. What a sight! A dozen Eagle Riders where once there was one. Arno angled downwards picking up speed, Owen felt the rush of wind, the thrill of the charge. He was laughing madly. In his mind’s eye he could see Arno’s talons extending out, ready to seize his prey. ‘Hunt, Arno, hunt!’

  And the eagles descended on the milling cavalry from above.

  Owen felt Arno seize an elf and rip it from its saddle.

  ‘Climb, Arno.’

  Arno climbed powerfully upwards, and after a few seconds, Owen pulsed again.

  ‘Release!’

  A short scream lost to the wind and battle. A wheeling figure falling. Impacting among its fellows below.

  ‘Turn, Arno, hunt!’

  Arno banked, angled into another strafing run. Owen took a moment to look for the others. The darkening skies were full of movement, his kin wheeling, diving, smashing into the elven cavalry. Talons, sharp and vicious, raking horses and riders alike. Panicked mounts bucking and rearing. Riders falling.

  Arno seized another elf, gained height, released.

  Owen turned him northwards towards Devlin’s cavalry. They looked hard pressed, outnumbered.

  ‘Jussi? Bryce?’

  ‘Here!’

  ‘ Yeah.’

  ‘Let’s help Devlin.’

  ‘It’s a little tight in there, not sure Nukka can tell the difference.’

  ‘Go for the edge of the elf lines. We just need to scare them.’

  Arno dropped lower, staying just above the heads of the cavalry. Something thin and fast, skimmed by his vision. Arrows. He’d forgotten the scouts down there. He had to be careful. Up ahead the battle was a confusing mess. The fog was making it hard to distinguish friend from foe. There! A clutch of heavy cavalry, moving towards the fight.

  ‘Talons!’

  Arno understood the command, flared as he descended, gripped on to a horse, then released just as quickly. The cavalry scattered. A rider was thrown.

  ‘Climb!’

  As they gained height, Owen looked behind him. Two eagles were harrying the elves engaging Devlin. And, around the pikes, as eagles dived and soared, the cavalry was starting to withdraw. That was good. But he wanted a rout.

  ‘Hunt.’

  CHAPTER 68 – CADE

  ‘I can’t see a damned thing!’ Cade announced. Her back was against a tree and she was bent over pulling back on the string.

  ‘That’s a good thing!’ called Saul, not far away.

  ‘How’s that?’

  ‘Means they can’t see you to shoot you.’

  ‘Good point!’

  She turned and looked down the slope, searching amidst the fog. An arrow struck the tree, two inches from her face.

  ‘Fuck!’ She shot blindly and ducked back.

  ‘But they can still hear you.’ Saul leaned out, aimed and loosed.

  This was nuts. She listened to the fighting on the slope. It was still all going on out there.

  ‘Cade?’

  ‘What?’ She searched the source of the voice, one of her crew was waving her over.

  Great. She kept her head low, trying to shrink down into the fog, and scuttled from tree to tree, climbing upslope.

  ‘Conor?’

  ‘Got visitors,’ said the Highlander, his long hair held back from his face with a bandana. A piece of twig stuck out from the side of his mouth.

  Three Gifted stood waiting. They looked a little banged up. The one in the middle stepped forwards. He had no helmet, his black hair was swept back and he sported a thin goatee.

  ‘Something’s happening out there.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The fog’s lifting.’

  ‘That’s a bad thing?’

  ‘They might have sorcerers.’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked down at the fog. Yeah, it didn’t seem so thick. ‘That’s going to help them, right?’

  ‘Pull your people back. We’ll buy you some time to get free.’

  She liked that plan. ‘Alright, thanks.’

  The Gifted nodded, led his companions down the slope.

  Cade slapped Conor on the back.

  ‘Get the word out, we are pulling back.’

  ‘OK Cade, uh, where to?’

  She paused. There weren’t many options other than hightailing it all the way back to Brevis, and that wouldn’t end well.

  ‘To the top. Where the rocks are.’

  ‘Right you are.’

  Conor stood and ran off.

  The Gifted had disappeared.

  CHAPTER 69 – MICHAEL

  Michael tramped back into the woods, a lull in the battle giving him time to take stock. Down the slope there was still skirmishing going on, but between the dying light and the fog he could see nothing. The din of clashing arms was strangely muffled, almost directionless. But perhaps it was because the battle surrounded them all.

  He leaned against the side of a tree. His blade, bloody and notched in a dozen places, he wiped clean and tucked into his belt. Then he dropped down to his knees. Damn he was thirsty. And a bloody idiot for not bringing a water bottle. What had he been expecting? That the battle would be over in two hours?

  ‘Don’t tell me you are tired?’ asked Sasha.

  Michael looked up and spotted her resting against a tree. ‘Didn’t see you there.’ Only her head and shoulders were visible within the fog which was still flowing down the slope.

  ‘Trying to keep a low profile.’ She coughed, almost a ha
ck.

  ‘You alright?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

  Michael pushed himself up and made his way over.

  She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Got stuck. Dragged myself back up here with the other dead and dying.’

  ‘You should have gone to the hospital tent.’

  ‘Didn’t think there was much point. Us Gifted are on the way out either way.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘The man who calls himself Emperor.’

  Michael scowled. But he did not try to correct her. He reached out and put an arm under her shoulder.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asked. ‘You’re not my type.’

  ‘Taking you to the hospital tent.’

  ‘Fine. If you must,’ she said, putting an arm around him and holding tight. ‘Oh. Shit.’ She hissed as he lifted her.

  ‘Where’d they get you?’

  ‘Left side of my stomach.’

  ‘Huh.’ Not good.

  ‘Yeah. Just what I thought.’

  He tightened his grip and turned her round, setting off up the slope. Sasha wasn’t much more than skin and bone and he found he was pretty much carrying her entire weight.

  ‘Is it me,’ she hissed, ‘but is the fog going the other way?’

  Michael looked down. Even as he waded through it, he could tell the rolling darkness was retreating, thinning, breaking apart. What did this mean? They needed that fog more than ever. The Nidhal were exposed out there.

  A bright flash of light flared through the forest, bending shadows to the left, making the fading fog glow. Then a great boom echoed through the trees, and the ground trembled beneath his feet.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Sasha cried out.

  ‘Some kind of explosion?’

  ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘Come on.’

  Michael started again. And twenty steps later had to halt. The fog had all but cleared. It made the going a little easier, but …

  He looked left. Towards the open slope, maybe ten yards away. The combat was still behind them.

  He sniffed.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Burning.’

  And it was growing lighter.

  A tree burst into flame. And then the next, and the next. A wall of fire marching along the perimeter.

  ‘That’s even worse,’ whispered Sasha.

  ‘What is this?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Sorcery.’

  Michael turned his head at the sound of footfalls crashing through the brush.

  ‘Excuse us, coming through!’ announced Fenner jogging into view. With him was a gaggle of marines. He drew up next to Michael. ‘Some bastard’s set light to the damned woods.’ He frowned at the Gifted. ‘Follow us. The fire’s right behind us and advancing.’

  Michael nodded. Hefting Sasha, who no longer seemed interested in complaining, he started onwards. The fire was now ahead of them along the left flank, he could feel heat against his cheek. It was spreading inwards. He couldn’t see an end to how far it had advanced. They forged on, angling away from it, Fenner staying with him.

  ‘We weren’t doing too bad, had cleared them right out,’ he said conversationally. ‘Then, whoosh, whole fucking place goes up in flames. Lost a bunch of good lads and lasses.’

  Michael grunted. He was too busy looking ahead. He didn’t like what he saw. The marines ahead had stopped.

  ‘It’s ahead of us, boss,’ a marine shouted.

  ‘Well, go round it, then,’ Fenner shouted back.

  ‘No good,’ said Wendell, appearing from somewhere to the right. Fire’s coming up the hill from the far side.’

  ‘Shit. They’ve got us hemmed in.’

  ‘What do we do?’ asked Michael.

  Fenner shrugged. ‘I’d say don’t try running through it – it ain’t a natural fire. Maybe we try digging in, get a trench going, let it pass over us?’

  ‘It’s gonna get bloody hot,’ said Wendell.

  Michael doubted that plan. ‘Really?’

  ‘Either that or basically we’re fucked,’ Fenner stated.

  Michael looked at the fire coming at them from the flank.

  ‘Let’s get somewhere it’s not and start digging.’

  CHAPTER 70 – ELLEN

  Gantak grunted. A frown creased his face.

  Ellen felt it too. Like a change in pressure. A force pushing against her will, her connection to the earth lessening.

  ‘What is this?’

  ‘Power,’ replied Gantak.

  Yes. Power. Another player had entered the fray.

  A light flashed to the east. And as a rumbling crack sounded around them, a ball of fire mushroomed into the night sky.

  ‘Oh, my …’

  ‘Rike.’ Fire.

  She looked back at Gantak. His eyes were still shut. His companions were continuing to maintain their spell casting. But their labour was clear.

  ‘What?’

  He raised a finger, pointing to the east.

  ‘Rike. Go.’

  She paused. What did he mean?

  Gantak dropped his hand, began to chant once more.

  She pushed herself up, her limbs protesting. What should she do? She shook her head. Gantak must have his reasons and that fireball would have had a target. She started to move. Jogging past the Emperor’s tent, past where the wounded were gathered. There was Rula bent over someone, focussed on her work, a few torches lighting up the space. She could see a difference ahead, the night was not as dark. And the glow where the fireball must have impacted was still a little way to the east, but it was the woods below her that caught her attention. The whole damn place was alight.

  Michael.

  She staggered back. Was he in there?

  She cast about, looking for help, looking for anyone. By the light of the fires, she could see there was no one nearby. But there was something else. The fog had been pushed back, dispersed. It was being held at bay, a roiling, seething wall, butting up against an invisible barrier.

  Figures started to emerge from the trees to the side of the flamestorm. Nidhal in a tight knot, and in the centre the Emperor’s banner. They passed her by with no acknowledgements or questions as to why she was running around alone. There would be no help there. But somebody was helping. The trees on the eastern flank were engulfed, even so the fires were not moving west. There was a distinct break, and fire would not just stop like that. So, the shamans were thwarted in maintaining the fog, but their energies had shifted to containing the fires. And that gave her a chance. She strode as close as she could towards the flames, the heat was tremendous, painful. Ellen closed her eyes. She reached out once more, and started to vocalise softly. She encountered the flames, the chaos of matter changing from one state to another, and the faintest trace of something else. An intention, a guiding hand. The elf sorcerer, whoever they were, that had willed the fire into being, had driven it at an unnatural speed. But that hand had gone, the focus turned elsewhere, combating the shamans perhaps. Either way, fire she could deal with. She pushed with her will, shaping a bubble of cooler air about her, and stepped forwards into the fire.

  The bubble held.

  The flames probed at its surface, skittering over it, but found no chink, no way through. She reinforced the walls to withstand the heat, the sound of burning and crackling muffled. Then Ellen carried on, walking through a world of blazing light, hues of yellow, orange and red, a glowing skeletal landscape. Where she stepped, the ground was ashen and bare, the bubble cooling the earth, stamping out embers, but not completely, she could still feel the heat penetrating the soles of her boots. Was this what the Hells looked like?

  She forged on, not sure where to look but it made sense to head into the depths of the woods. She discovered a body. It was already scorched black. A little further on, another. This one was recognisable, its armour rippling with heat. A Gifted. She did not stop to check who it was. Onwards, using the slope as a guide, but unsure of
her bearings, Ellen estimated she must almost be at the centre. All she found were more bodies. She stopped. Turned about. Where to? Maybe she had it wrong. Maybe Michael was outside the woods. But there were others. She knew there must be others.

  She turned left. Squinting at the brightness of the flames even if the heat could not reach her. Then, just ahead, a change, the flames lessening. She emerged into an area as yet untouched, and sped up, pacing ahead of the fires that were jumping across the intertwined branches around her. Just ahead she saw movement, figures bent low, scrabbling at the ground. Digging?

  ‘Ellen?’ she heard someone shout, as if from far away. ‘Ellen?’

  She saw Michael stand and beckon to her. She ran towards him as others stopped to stare. Ellen collapsed her bubble, staggered a little at the rush of heat, then barrelled into Michael wrapping her arms around him in relief. He squeezed her tight for a moment then pushed her free.

  ‘Are you injured? Did you get trapped in here too?’ he said loudly, his face clouded with concern.

  Shaking her head, she punched his arm. ‘No. I came here looking for you!’

  His features switched to puzzlement. ‘You shouldn’t have. We are trying to get lower to avoid the–’

  ‘Father. Michael. Stop. I can get us out!’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I can keep the fire off us.’

  ‘You can do that?’ said Fenner, arriving at her elbow.

  ‘Yes, I can get you all out.’

  ‘Do that and you are officially my new best friend.’

  Michael reached out and squeezed her shoulder. ‘What do you need us to do?’

  ‘Just gather round.’

  ‘Alright, stop fucking about with your holes and draw in nice and tight!’ Fenner shouted.

  As marines gathered round, Michael bent over and collected Sasha. Ellen had not seen her there. He put her over one shoulder and nodded.

  ‘I’m going to make a space, big enough for everyone, stay close and follow me.’

  She reached out once more, shaping the bubble but this time elongating it, pushing it out behind her to cover the others. As she did so the air around them rippled and once more the heat died down and the noise of the conflagration dulled.