by Frank Morin
No doubt that's what the Obrioners would believe too. They knew about the Altkalen supply of earth, so they'd focus on that.
Verena hoped whatever surprise Saskia and Ulrich had prepared was ready, because pitched battle was about to begin.
Chapter Sixty-One
"The wind that one day will rise into the mighty tempest is but a gentle breeze until that fateful day."
~Evander
Connor landed beside Ilse and Lukas atop a long, mounded ridge of earth at the rear of the main Grandurian army. He'd soared over the valley with wings of fire and spotted the Crushers preparing to load into their windriders. The ridge was about a dozen feet tall and shielded them from Obrioner view. It also made a pretty good spot for watching the initial stages of the main battle.
The Grandurian army had stopped at the edge of the rocky middle ground, facing the advancing Obrioner forces. Rumblers made up the center, positioned where the road extended into the middle ground. Wingrunners and other troops flanked them or massed behind. The majority of the non-Petralist soldiers were marching east and west to intercept the wide Obrioner flanking maneuvers.
The Obrioner auxiliaries outnumbered the Grandurians by at least two-to-one, so Connor hoped they had a few Builder mechanicals to help even the odds. Otherwise they faced a desperate battle to protect the flanks, and he doubted many Petralists would be available to render aid.
"How did your meeting go?" Ilse asked.
"Not as well as I'd hoped. Shona is difficult," Connor admitted.
Ilse raised one eyebrow. "Did you expect anything else?"
"Not really. It's still frustrating, though."
Lukas said, "You'll have plenty of opportunity to take out your frustrations on other Obrioners soon enough."
"When do we go?" Connor asked, glancing back at the Crushers.
The men and women of the elite company looked tough. Most were Rumblers, although he spotted one Wingrunner in each ten-person squad. They wore leather and steel armor similar, if less fancy, than his own new suit.
They bristled with weapons, including war hammers, axes, and swords. They carried a lot of throwing weapons, from small axes, to knives, to javelins. At least one in every squad carried tightly-rolled nets in sheaths on their backs. Others had whips coiled at their hips. They looked grim and eager for their dangerous mission of attacking the tertiary Petralists.
Ilse maintained her usual calm. "Soon. For now, watch. Verena and Hamish took off from the enemy camp a moment ago, so hopefully their mission succeeded better than yours."
That reminded Connor of his mini-hub. He lifted his left arm and turned the keystone to line up with the speakstone that would link him to Verena.
"Verena, can you hear me?" he asked, speaking close to the stone.
No reply. He tried again, then switched to Hamish, but still no reply. He glanced at Ilse, who shrugged and showed him the mini-hub affixed to her left arm.
"She gave me one too, but warned me the range is short."
"I'll try again in a minute." He hoped nothing had gone wrong.
The advancing Obrioner army had already covered almost half of the middle ground up the road toward the waiting Grandurians. Heavily-armored Boulders led the way, carrying massive shields.
With the Sentries widening the road, he wondered if all the work to strip away the earth was really worth it. The labor didn't seem to be slowing them down.
Then the ground collapsed under their front ranks.
There was no warning. The ground under the roadway and for twenty yards to either side simply vanished, tumbling half a hundred Boulders out of sight into the earth.
"What happened?" Connor exclaimed.
He wondered if Captain Peadar was among those armored Boulders who had just fallen and probably died with no chance to defend themselves. He realized with a grim, sinking feeling that those were but the first of many casualties.
Ilse was frowning. "That area is supposed to be solid rock, but I felt Anton's presence briefly. It was just a hint, and it's already gone."
"He can't walk through solid rock, can he?" Lukas asked.
"I don't think so. That's simple volcanic rock, not power-grade stone. I don't understand how that hole was made."
Connor tapped marble and blasted himself into the air on a column of fire. Ilse and Lukas scurried back from the flames, shouting at him to be more careful. He'd apologize later.
He focused on the huge hole gaping across the roadway. With quartzite-enhanced vision and the vantage of two hundred feet of altitude, he saw deep into the vertical-sided pit plunging into the earth, but did not see the bottom.
The walls of the pit were scored with chisel marks. Connor had grown up in a quarry village, so he easily recognized the signs of stone work.
He reduced the tap rate of marble and settled back toward the earth. It seemed the Altkalen defenses had been under construction for a while. They'd mined under their own road.
Anton would only have needed to strike the spot to crack the thin covering that remained over the pit. Until that moment, it would have felt like solid rock to any Sentries who scanned it. It was a clever and chilling tactic.
As soon as he touched down, Connor tapped slate and quested in that direction with his earth senses. He felt nothing but a blank, unbroken wall of rock that he could not penetrate.
So he switched to soapstone and connected with the many water-filled fissures that criss-crossed the solid stone of the valley. He discovered a deep pool of scalding hot water two hundred feet below the roadway beneath that hole.
At the bottom of that pool he found the fallen soldiers. Burdened by all that armor and heavy weapons, they must have sunk like rocks.
It felt wrong to just leave them lying there, but he wasn't sure what to do. Then he felt the waters moving. He sensed Kilian and other presences also touching the waters and driving them up.
"Look," Connor pointed.
The Obrioner army had retreated from the gaping hole, but more earth was already beginning to flow over it. No doubt the Sentries were reinforcing their work to ensure the soldiers could march across without falling, even if the underlying ground fell away again.
Water erupted from the partially-closed hole like an upside-down waterfall. The ground rumbled, and water exploded from hundreds of other holes in the ground, spraying high into the air, then pivoting toward the Obrioner army.
The Water Moccasins had entered the fight.
Most of the water targeted the Boulders exposed on the roadway, although some of it leaped across the middle ground toward the bulk of the Obrioner Petralists. The first blast of water from the huge hole swept an entire hundred-man company of Boulders from the roadway, tumbling them across the rough, rocky middle ground like leaves in the Wick during the spring thaw.
As the other soldiers fled the danger, the churning waters slowed, then stopped. The wall of water boiling across the middle ground toward the Obrioner army halted before reaching the soldiers.
Ilse frowned. "What were they thinking, hitting with water? The Spitters can counter that too easily."
Boulders who had been scattered across the middle ground were struggling to stand. They looked battered, but otherwise unhurt. Connor had to agree with Ilse. The elemental attack seemed impressive, but they should have waited until the Obrioner Spitters were distracted.
Lukas said, "Now the tug-the-rope contest begins. Might be they're trying to distract the tertiaries. Would make a good time for us to prepare to jump."
"If that's what they intended, they should have warned us," Ilse growled, then waved a signal to the waiting soldiers below. The men and women of the Crushers scrambled for their windriders.
Connor turned the keystone on his mini-hub to point to the speakstone marked Kilian and raised it to his mouth. "Kilian, can you hear me?"
"Connor? How did your meeting go?"
"Just like old times."
"That bad?"
"Pretty much. I'm with the Crushers
. Should they prepare to attack?"
"Not yet. The main event is about to begin."
The ground began to shake, and that shaking intensified until it was hard to stay upright. Connor had not expected an earthquake. For a moment he feared Verena's mission had failed and Dougal had raised another earth-bound elemental.
He twisted his mini-hub. "Verena, can you hear me?"
She responded immediately and sounded excited. "Connor, where are you?"
Then her voice turned cold. "We need to talk."
Connor's heart sank. Had she seen him and Shona? He'd wised for more time to think of a proper way to explain the situation to her.
"I'm with Ilse and the Crushers. Where are you? Did you get the sculpted stones?"
"Our mission was a complete success," she said happily, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "The mega-stench worked better than we'd hoped, and we got eight sculpted stones."
"Eight? That's even better than we'd hoped for."
So Dougal couldn't have raised an elfonnel. Connor didn't see the mountains of earth on the army flanks moving, so why was the ground shaking? "Where are you?"
"We're monitoring the battle from up in the clouds. We'll rendezvous with you and the Crushers as you begin your attack."
In that moment, an enormous fissure gaped open in the center of the middle ground. Another geyser of superheated water erupted forth, covering the land in a deadly, hot mist.
The air was growing foul with the smell of sulfur and the other minerals in the waters. Connor frowned. More water wasn't going to change the situation.
The lava, though, was a total surprise.
Connor gasped as a river of molten stone boiled out of the fissure, spewing a hundred feet into the air. The rotten-egg scent of sulfur grew sharp, and the temperature rose twenty degrees.
He tapped quartzite to his ears and clearly heard the cries of dismay from the Obrioner soldiers, particularly those Boulders stuck out on the rough, rocky middle ground.
Those cries turned into screams of fear as the lava spread rapidly across the middle ground, then started rolling south in a thirty foot wall of molten stone.
No doubt the Sentries tried to stop it, but lava was a brilliant tactic. It was rock, but it was also fire. Just as the mud during the battle at Harz had momentarily baffled the Sentries and Spitters, lava could only be manipulated by earth and fire working together. Worse, with the ground stripped of earth, Sentries lacked any ready material to raise barrier walls to block the lava.
The signature tower of mighty Anton the Sapper rose at the forward edge of the Grandurian army. Kilian stood beside Anton. Again water and fire flowed around the outside of the tower, forming ancient symbols of power.
Driven by the two mighty Petralists, the flood of lava rolled south, gaining speed as it went, leaving a thin layer of red-hot, molten stone behind. The Boulders stranded on the middle ground scrambled to retreat, but the jagged, uneven ground was treacherous, and most of them were too slow. The lava rolled right over them.
Connor suddenly wished he had released quartzite. The agonized screams from those soldiers were brief, but all the more intense for that brevity. He glanced at Ilse, whose expression had turned grim where she stood holding hands with Lukas.
Connor took a deep, steadying breath, but the sulfur-laden air made him cough. A strong breeze picked up from the north, blowing the worst of the smell toward the Obrioners. He wasn't sure if Longseers had pulled the breeze in, but he was grateful for it. As the lava rolled toward the Obrioner lines, he hoped his friends weren't in its path.
The Obrioner army began to retreat.
Lukas said, "Time to go. We'll drop while they're distracted by the lava."
Ilse raised her mini-hub to her lips and said, "This is Commander Ilse. Tell Wolfram that the Crushers are preparing to attack."
They clambered aboard the high pilot bench at the front of the first wagon. Forty troops were crammed into the long benches in the back. As soon as they were seated, their Builder pilot activated the huge thrusters. A howling wind blasted around them, filling the air with dust, but washing away some of the sulfur reek.
As the wagons rose ponderously into the air, a second group of wagons rose on the opposite flank of the army. Dierk flew the lead wagon, with three other windriders following close behind, carrying the first-wave strike teams. Jean flew the last wagon.
Despite all the time she'd spent helping the rest of them fine-tune their armor and prepare for battle, she had found a little time for herself too. Even though she was no soldier, she was flying troops over the battlefield, and she'd dressed for the occasion.
Today she wore a white silk shirt under a form-fitting leather vest, with leather bracers on her forearms. A wide leather belt encircled her narrow waist, loaded with vials and pouches of medicine. Brown leather boots peeked out from under her dark green skirt, and a larger medical kit hung from a strap on her back. She'd braided her long blond hair, and wore a leather headband.
Jean had proved many times she was far more than just the most brilliant person who had ever lived in Alasdair, and she was doing it again. She looked nervous but determined as she flew her enormous wagon filled with Rumblers and a truly nasty surprise.
Most of the Flameweavers in Altkalen had participated in summoning creatures that appeared roughly man-shaped. Dressed in spare bits of leather armor, they looked enough like soldiers that no one would think anything different until it was too late.
The summoned creatures would drop just before the first wave of Rumblers. When they landed, and once they were surrounded by enemy soldiers, they would detonate, spewing their flame-filled cores over the unsuspecting troops. Dierk had come up with the idea, and even suggested they add a tiny bit of diorite to each one to magnify the explosions.
Connor still shuddered at the cold brutality of those summonings. Hamish had dubbed them bomb-cases.
Dierk had looked disgusted with himself for suggesting the idea at all, but then had added, "They killed Ingrid. They brought this war, and by Tallan's blessed memory, they will regret it."
While the first wave accelerated toward the lava-covered middle ground, the second wave of windriders with their load of Crushers continued to ascend, awaiting their turn to strike. Down on the valley floor, the lava had nearly reached the Obrioner side of the middle ground. All the forward elements of the army had begun retreating from the onslaught, which their Sentries did not yet seem able to stop.
As the ranks of soldiers retreated from the danger, one small group was left facing the lava. Connor was shocked to see children with them. He focused his enhanced vision on the distant group, and gasped with horror.
"That's my family!"
Chapter Sixty-Two
"A fool uttereth all his mind, but wisdom is gained only through listening.”
~Gregor
Connor blinked, but the view did not change.
His entire family, Hamish's family, and even Jean's grandmother all stood facing the approaching flood of lava. They looked terrified, the children crying, but held in place by soldiers with blades drawn and held against their throats. Even the children.
The sight filled him with horror and rage so intense, it was like another wave of lava had erupted in his heart. He found it hard to breathe, hard to think. His hands clenched in fury, and he unconsciously tapped granite. His expanding muscles quivered with the need to smash.
Lukas cautioned, "Take it easy, Connor."
He'd forgotten he wasn't alone on the windrider bench. Connor grabbed Lukas's shoulder. "My family. Hamish's too, and Jean's. They're hostages, right there in front of the lava. Tell Kilian to stop!"
Not waiting for a reply, incapable of waiting while his family stood in the path of imminent death, Connor leaped from the windrider and tapped marble. The intense burn of fire that erupted into his mouth fit his boiling rage, and he embraced it like never before.
White-hot flames erupted from his hands and feet and catapulted him thro
ugh the air toward the middle ground. The searing heat only fueled his rage. As he roared south, over five hundred feet in the air, he tried to think, but only one thing was clear.
It was time to kill.
Verena's voice cried from the speakstone on his forearm, and he held it to his ear. "Connor, I'm coming to meet you."
He glanced up just as the Swift pulled out of a steep dive and flew past, close enough for him to grab the handles at the back. He hugged Verena and pressed his face close to her helmet.
"Thanks for coming. We have to save my family."
"I just spoke with Kilian. They're stopping the lava."
Sure enough, the advance of the molten stone stopped on the very southern edge of the middle ground, barely a hundred yards from his family. Four year-old Wallace was gaping at the lava and crying, one hand tugging at the soldier gripping his collar. Eight year-old Roderick looked white with fear, and held one hand in front of his face to ward against the heat, which had to be intense.
Connor's mother was holding Fiona, turning constantly to check on the children, even though a soldier was gesturing with his blade, warning her to stop moving. Hendry looked furious, his powerful hands clenched into fists, as if on the verge of leaping on the soldiers, even though he was unarmed.
Hamish's family was no better off, with children weeping, their mother scolding the soldiers angrily, and Amhain quivering with anger and suppressed violence. Mhairi was speaking to him, and appeared to be trying to calm him down.
Connor didn't dare apply quartzite to his ears to hear what they were saying. The sound of the children begging for help would drive him past rational thought.
Instead of banking south and spooling up the speedslings to rain destruction upon those soldiers, Verena angled the Swift back north, toward where Kilian stood on Anton's tower.
Connor demanded, "What are you doing? We have to go save them."
"We're going to save them. I promise we will, but flying down there won't help them. Not yet."
"Of course it will! Verena, I am going to save them, and I need your help."