Sentaya roared for his warriors to get back into line. Bows were discarded, swords and axes bristled. Stein’s voice in his most melodious elvish reorganised his mages, bringing them back towards the houses before turning to prepare again.
‘Twenty.’
Auum looked up. ‘Thrynn, don’t-’
A bolt of pure black the thickness of an arm crossed the space faster than an arrow and struck Thrynn square in the forehead. Her skull burst, her body twitched and fell from the roof of the barn, leaving blood and brain smearing the thatch. For a heartbeat Auum struggled to understand what he had seen.
‘Il-Aryn, barrier, now! Stein, get some spells over that wall. Anyone in the open, get to cover!’
Auum ran across the central oval. A breathless hush fell in the village as Julatsan mages launched orbs over the stockade. A moment later the Il-Aryn barriers shimmered into place, each covering a third of the stockade the enemy threatened. Sentaya’s warriors backed up a pace or two but ignored Auum’s advice to seek cover.
Auum turned a full circle, checking positions and trying not to think about Thrynn and what her death meant for them all. He trotted back towards Ulysan and Tilman, both peering from the door of Sentaya’s house. Tilman was looking nervous, but Ulysan’s face was set hard, the loss of Thrynn firing his desire to fight.
Across the arc shaman fire slammed into the barriers, Auum imagining the thick black rods like spears of magic lancing into the magical construct. He heard Rith yelling for the Il-Aryn to hold and could see the adepts, with arms about each other in their horribly vulnerable positions, bowing their heads to focus harder.
Again and again the fire came in and the barriers shimmered, bowed and steadied. Auum prayed that their adaptation of Takaar’s original casting had eradicated the weakness which had previously brought them down, and that the Wesman warriors would be forced to attack the stockade. After the fifth attack the bombardment ceased.
‘Hold!’ called Rith. ‘They haven’t gone anywhere. Keep the bindings secure.’
The temptation to look above the stockade was almost overwhelming, but Thrynn’s demise was raw in their memories and the defenders held their positions. Orders were called beyond the stockade. Arrows flew into the village in disciplined volleys, Auum estimating the archer strength at around seventy — enough to cause problems. Sentaya’s warriors raised their shields.
Auum felt the weight of magical energy heavy across his shoulders, pressing down on his head. Beside him Ulysan felt it too, and out in the village the Il-Aryn had hunched closer together.
‘That doesn’t feel-’
The light dimmed momentarily in front of the northern section of the stockade. Dark energy engulfed the Il-Aryn barrier without warning, scattering it to twinkling shards. The stockade was obliterated along a length of some sixty yards, sending splinters through the village on a cloud of choking dust. Mage, Il-Aryn and Wesman alike threw themselves down while the hideous energy rolled over them only to be snatched back and swallowed by the hands that had cast it. It was gone as quickly as it had come.
Auum sprinted out into the open, racing across the ground to Rith, who was flat on her back. The dust was clearing away and through it he could see enemy warriors making their charge. To the right more shamen moved into position while those who had broken the Il-Aryn retreated to recover. On the shallow rise where the carriage stood a single tall figure gazed across the land. It was thick with the corpses of his fighters, while magical fires picked at bodies, some of which were moving grotesquely, grasping at nothing and hoping for death.
‘Yniss preserve us,’ breathed Auum.
He stared down at Rith, whose face was smothered with confusion and shock. Other TaiGethen ran to help the Il-Aryn.
‘Up,’ he said. ‘Enemies coming. Come on, Rith, get to your other teams. More incoming power. You have to help them.’
Auum hauled her to her feet and she stared at him while the world swam into focus. She nodded and turned away to see to her Il-Aryn. Auum ran to the shattered stockade.
‘Tais, with me!’ he called. The Wesmen were only twenty yards away and running in hard. ‘Jaqruis!’
Ulysan came to his left shoulder with Tilman the other side of him.
‘Face front, trust the TaiGethen,’ said Auum, wondering how vulnerable his right flank would be. ‘This is your chance to be one of us. Arrows!’ Auum grabbed Tilman and dragged him flat. Arrows flew overhead. ‘Up, up!’ Tilman jumped to his feet, no fear on his face but a wild excitement in his eyes and pride fit to burst from his chest. ‘Remember your training.’
Marack, Nokhe and Hohan joined his right. Auum saw Evunn and Duele moving left with more coming, bolstered by Sentaya’s Wesmen roaring their fury and holding weapons high. Archers behind them sent arrows into the midst of the attackers, downing one or two. Auum estimated their strength at around six hundred. A third of them were down, but it was nowhere near enough.
Without warning the central section of the stockade exploded inwards, scattering Il-Aryn and Wesman fighters alike. The pressure of the blast blew across Auum and his defenders. Wesmen poured towards the new gap as the last section was blown apart. Sentaya could he heard ordering his warriors back to their feet.
‘Ulysan, hold them here,’ said Auum. ‘We need a diversion.’
He turned and ran back into the village, hearing the first swords clash, the first cry of a dying fighter. He prayed it wasn’t Tilman. The Il-Aryn were exposed and vulnerable. Enemies were driving in across the arc, buoyed by the devastating power gifted their shamen by Ystormun. TaiGethen cells were moving to their aid but he needed more than that.
‘Stein! Where are you!’ he roared.
‘Auum.’ It was Grafyrre with his cell of Ferinn and Lynees. ‘What do you need?’
They were standing in the centre of the oval, their plan in tatters. Their withdrawal should have been much more controlled and gradual.
‘I need the Il-Aryn up, defended and under cover. They have to get barriers back up when the shamen are ready to cast again. And I need Stein.’
‘Stein is by Sentaya’s barn.’
Auum looked to his left. Stein and seven of his mages launched orbs of fire across the defence to slam into the enemy line at the third section.
‘Good. Get two cells. . Truun and Gyliaar’s. . put them in charge of the Il-Aryn. Then get to Stein. You’re heading out on his signal to take Ystormun.’
Grafyrre took his cell and sped away. Auum raced over to Stein.
‘We can’t hold them when the shamen come back,’ said Auum. ‘But Ystormun is poorly defended.’
Stein looked at him and nodded. ‘Now is as good a time as any.’
‘It might be our only chance,’ said Auum. ‘Grafyrre will be with you. We’ll try to sweep up any survivors of the strike cells and send them back in.’
‘I’ll take twenty with me, fly out and hopefully turn a few shamen away from the village.’
‘I can’t risk you,’ said Auum. ‘Send your best deputy.’
‘I’ve trained for this all my life,’ said Stein.
Auum nodded, still reluctant. ‘Just don’t die, brother.’
‘I have no intention of doing so.’
Auum turned and ran back to Ulysan and Tilman. Despite the shock of the shaman power, Sentaya’s warriors were up and fighting, the line thin but just holding with the help of the TaiGethen, who worked the left and right flanks to contain the attack. Auum saw Sentaya front and centre, his axe sweeping through low into the legs of an enemy and reversing to batter its spike into the face of another. For a Wesman beyond his physical peak, he had the energy of someone half his age.
Running in hard, Auum saw Ulysan close to Tilman, tipping away a blow meant for the human and savaging his second blade into the neck of an opponent. Tilman had a short blade held two-handed and displayed good speed, knocking aside an axe aimed at his skull and riposting swiftly, lacing a cut into the Wesman’s chest.