Black rods of energy, each thick as a fist, skewered his cell, each one finding the heart. She watched helpless as the TaiGethen were plucked from their feet and hurled back. The shamen held them in the air for a moment before tossing their bodies aside like discarded dolls. This was no broken black fire and its potency was extreme.
Faleen turned, and as she did saw the back cloth of the single carriage twitch.
‘Speed!’ she howled. ‘Tai, with me!’
Faleen called on the shetharyn, and the world slowed around her. The shamen were looking for new targets. The Wesmen were closing around her cell. Jyrrian and Haloor turned to follow her. She saw a Wesman with his back to her sweep out an arm. Jyrrian ran straight into it, his attention on Haloor. He tumbled to the ground, his speed gone.
Faleen began to turn. An axe came down slowly. Jyrrian was rolling aside, trying to get his feet under him. Faleen dived headlong. The axe blade passed in front of her face. She grasped at it but her reach was not enough. Jyrrian raised his hands but the blade took them with it into his chest.
Faleen landed, rolled and stood.
‘Shorth will take you all,’ she hissed.
She shot off after Haloor, tearing across the front of the Wesman lines. Beams of dark energy shot out, blistering the air. Faleen shivered, dreading the bite of the malevolent magic.
‘Oryaal! Break and go.’
On the left Merrat and Merke still fought, but ripples in the Wesman lines told of shamen approaching. Faleen fell back into the battle, her blades sweeping ahead of her. Wesman blood sprayed into the air.
‘Merrat! Merke!’ Faleen thrashed a blade into the neck of a Wesman, who collapsed forward. Merrat stood there, blood across his face and a cut on his left arm. His blade was cocked to strike. ‘Break and go! We can’t take these without magic.’
Merrat’s Tai fought around him, giving him a moment’s pause.
‘We’re among them,’ he said. ‘We can win this.’
‘No. Dodann’s Tai is gone, downed by a new power. Please, we have to get out of here and take the message to Auum.’
Merrat looked at the battle about them and back into Faleen’s eyes.
‘I trust you,’ he said.
‘Speed,’ whispered Faleen.
Chapter 34
Here’s the thing. It isn’t just that a TaiGethen in the shetharyn is much faster than a galloping horse, it’s the speed of thought that goes with it. That’s what makes them really frightening.
The wards did terrible damage. While Sentaya’s Wesmen sheltered inside the stockade, sending prayers to their spirits and cursing human magic, their enemies had run headlong into the wide arc of wards Stein had placed to encircle the village and had made active when all were either inside or gone south for safety.
Explosions reverberated through the ground and howling flames glared in the sky. Tribesmen were slaughtered in large numbers and Auum saw the sense of injustice burning bright in Sentaya’s eyes.
‘I should not have allowed you to do this,’ the Wesman chief said, his face taut and the muscles of his neck corded and proud under his skin. ‘Now human magic stains my hands. These are my brethren, the people I wish to rule, and they will not forget this day.’
Outside the advance had halted, the roaring charge losing all impetus to be replaced by wails of pain, the cries of dying warriors and the crackle of multiple fires.
‘Think, my Lord Sentaya,’ said Stein. ‘They are nine hundred blades, outnumbering you six to one. No one doubts your courage or skill but those odds are not survivable. What your subjects won’t forget is how you faced the Wytch Lord, Ystormun, and won, and how some chose black fire to further their own selfish ambition.’
Sentaya knew Stein was right, but Auum could see him wrestling with himself, for a moment unable to provide the leadership his warriors needed. Some were frightened, some angry, and none relished what was being done in their name.
‘They’re advancing again,’ called Thrynn from her perch on a barn overlooking the field. ‘The shamen are moving up closer behind their warriors. It’s a slow advance to the last line of wards.’
Auum could hear orders carried on the breeze and feel the vibration of marching feet through the ground.
‘I need a distance countdown,’ said Auum.
They were as ready as they would ever be. A line of warriors, mainly Sentaya’s, stood ten paces back from the stockade ready to attack the moment it was breached, to engage and to break off in an attempt to bring the enemy into the village. The rest of the force was scattered in and around the buildings, much to Sentaya’s dismay.
‘We need chaos, not line on line, or we’ll lose,’ Auum had said. Sentaya had wanted to lead his warriors in a charge.
Stein’s mages were set behind the warrior line, sending shivers down the spines of the Wesmen, who had sworn never to turn their backs on human magic. And the Il-Aryn were in three groups, charged with providing as much defence as they could muster against the black fire as the warriors charged. Beyond that, planning was pointless.
‘Seventy-five,’ called Thrynn.
‘Closing on the obscurement ward grid,’ said Stein,
‘I wish those had all been fire walls now,’ said Ulysan.
‘Stamina is a finite thing. This was the best we could do in the time,’ said Stein a little testily.
‘Just saying,’ said Ulysan.
‘Isn’t it time you went to your place?’ said Stein.
‘I think you’ll find my place is next to Auum. Always has been.’
Auum held up his hands. ‘Will you two stop it? What is this?’
‘Sixty-five,’ called Thrynn. ‘Wards in five.’
‘It’s called bickering,’ said Stein. ‘It’s what brothers do.’
Ulysan enveloped him in a bear hug and gave him a big wet kiss. Stein pushed him away and wiped at his cheek.
‘That’s disgusting,’ he said.
‘It’s for luck,’ said Ulysan.
‘Does he do that before every battle?’ asked Stein.
Auum shook his head. ‘It’s a first.’
‘I’m. . honoured.’
‘Just get casting,’ said Ulysan.
A series of dull thuds was heard. With the triggering of the first ward, the rest followed in sequence. Thick oily dark grey smoke spread in all directions like the deepest of winter fogs, rising thirty feet into the sky.
‘Go, go!’ called Sentaya.
His forty or so archers ran through gaps opened in the stockade on the three land-facing sides of the village. The Julatsans followed, already preparing spells. In the village the Il-Aryn began their work, ready for the inevitable.
‘Speak to me, Thrynn.’
‘Nothing to see, Auum. The smoke is too thick. Arrows are flying into it all across the arc. Spells away too. .’
Auum saw them go as well as the black shafts of arrows, twenty orbs of fire trailing smoke and plunging out of sight just before impact. Auum closed his eyes. Like the wards, the Wesmen would not have seen them coming. More arrows shot across the gap. A handful were returned, but such was the confusion within the smoke that nearly all were poorly directed, falling harmlessly towards the lake or even back down among their own.
Above the smoke huge drops of fire began to fall from the clouded sky. Auum scanned across the arc of the attack front. Like burning leaves falling in a rainforest fire, they tumbled into the fog. And like many of Gyal’s tears, the fire rain was torrential but short-lived.
Auum shuddered. How many were perishing blinded by the smoke and with claws of fire digging into their heads and backs? Again orders were ringing out above the sounds of pain. Still they had order and courage, and Auum could only respect them for that.
‘I see figures!’ called Thrynn. ‘Smoke thinning at thirty yards.’
‘Back inside!’ called Auum.
The call was taken up by elven and Wes throats, bringing archers and mages scurrying through the gaps, which were immediately closed. Well directed arrows started to come over the stockade, sending defenders hurrying for cover. Thrynn lay prone on the barn roof, still calling out the closing distance.