'Hold course, Brynel. Close your eyes and let's pray.'
He felt a strange exhilaration. This was the defining moment of his life. For once he had been in control of his own destiny, and had chosen this path. He recalled being browbeaten by Dystran, he recalled his protestations and how he could never hope to have His voice heard. Not this time. So he didn't pray. He bellowed his rebellion.
'Hang on, Suarav. Enjoy the ride.'
They collided with the strike-strain. Sharyr felt the small creatures buffeting him. He put his head down and let it happen. Bodies hurtled into his head, midriff and legs. He felt the drag on his waist when Suarav was struck and just one huge impact that could only be a reaver.
And then he was falling.
He opened his eyes. They were inside the shell and the Wings had dispersed on the instant. The ground rushed towards them. They were travelling so fast. Too fast surely. Then they were all bouncing over the ground. Every impact was a new pain. He felt hard earth on his backside and the sharpness of wood or rock in his gut. He tasted dirt in his mouth and cried out when his shoulder jerked uncomfortably under him as he slid to a stop.
'Oh dear Gods, I'm still alive.' And he began to laugh.
Hands were about him and he could see faces. Voices questioned him, heavily accented. They were elves of the Al-Arynaar. He had heard about them.
'Are you hurt? Can you stand? We have to move now.'
He didn't know the answers. He moved to stand and pain lanced through his back. He winced. The arms helped him slowly to his
feet. He looked about him. Suarav was still on the ground but shaking his head, and moving freely. Brynel was smiling and gasping at the same time, a difficult combination.
Sharyr became aware of the sounds in the shell. The calls of demons and the cries of men and elves. The rattle of wagons, the hoofbeats and the fighting in every quarter.
'The cursyrd attack. We must move.'
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes.'
They started to move. Demons flew down on their heads. Tiny strike-strain nipping at their scalps and ears. He flapped his arms ineffectually. The elves hurried them along.
'They cannot really hurt you,' said the elf running beside him. 'Why are you here?'
T need to speak to the man . . . the elf in charge. You need to know about the streets of Xetesk.'
T will take you to Rebraal.'
Sharyr had never heard of him but the reverence in the elf s voice was enough.
'He sounds perfect.'
The elf didn't answer him.
Behind them the wagons were rolling under attack from the skies above. Auum led his Tai through scorched grass and smouldering flesh. The cursyrd line had broken but it was reforming quickly. They, the Al-Arynaar and The Raven had to keep the cursyrd on the back foot. If the karron should reform in any great numbers, the mages' work would be undone.
Working within the compass of the ColdRoom shell, Auum tore into the attack, operating with twin short swords. Duele and Evunn were on either flank.
'Target the karron. Tai, we strike.'
The karron were identically formed, unlike their reaver brethren. The fine hair he had seen from a distance was in fact a writhing, coarse sensory mat. The eyes were small and dim, perhaps only able to tell the difference between light and dark. The squat creature's raw power lay in its trunk and arms. And these latter swung with surprising swiftness, defying its lumbering gait.
Auum ducked a swinging spike limb and lashed his blades into
karron legs. He stepped smardy aside, a hammer thumping the ground where he had been standing. He pulled back, reassessing die creature's speed. It came at him, arms punching and swinging. A bludgeoning tactic but directionless. Auum swayed left, took a pace and lashed in a kick to the side of its head. It grunted and shook its head to clear its senses but Auum was already upon it. He stepped inside its arms and buried both blades in its face.
The karron wailed and collapsed forwards. Auum dropped and rolled backwards, bouncing back onto his feet. Beside him, Duele and Evunn tackled three that worked in unison.
'Feel the dance, my brothers,' said Auum.
Behind him The Raven crashed into the fight. Auum dodged another battering attack and struck out, carving his blades into the club arm and seeing grey gore spurt out of the deep wounds. He moved to deal the killing strike but Hirad got there first. The barbarian's sword sunk deep into the karron's midriff, driving ii backwards.
'Let's keep these bastards going our way!' shouted Hirad.
He dragged his sword clear, grinned at Auum and ran to join The Unknown Warrior. Auum cleared his throat and stepped in to aid his Tai. He breathed deep and achieved the pure state. The karron could not move fast enough to threaten him. He looked into their small eyes, buried deep under heavy brows, and watched the movement of the mat of hair. The limbs followed the sensing of its targets but it could not hope to lay a blow on the TaiGethen.
Auum needed quick kills. He rolled under the arms of his target and hammered his blades into its chest. He stepped right, jumping high and thudding both feet into the face of the next, landing on its stomach as it crashed onto its back. He tore out its throat with a double slash. A club fist whistled towards him. Still too slow. He jumped over it, turned in the air and straight-kicked the assailant. He dropped low, swept its legs from beneath it and jammed his blades high under its left arm. It spasmed and lay still.
He rose to his feet. Duele and Evunn were next to him. The Al-Arynaar and The Raven were deep in the fighting, driving a wedge for the wagons that trundled along behind. Auum felt a burning inside him and realised it was pure pleasure. It was not an emotion
he associated with consigning his enemies to Shorth but he was prepared to enjoy it.
He smiled.
'Tai,' he said. 'As one. We move.'
You could only stand and admire. It all but cost Hirad his life. He had dragged his sword through the ribs of one of the ugly haired demons and watched the creature bleed to death at his feet when he felt a moment of space. It was then he had seen Auum's Tai go to work and had known that for all that he had learned in their company back on Calaius, he would never come close to their ability.
He almost felt sorry for the demons they faced. After all, he couldn't follow every move they made himself. And they were so much in concert that it left no room for inroads into their attack or defence despite the fact that reavers had joined the fight against them.
Auum led them in a ferocious assault dead ahead of the wagons' path. His swords glittered in the early morning sun. Each strike left a trail of blood in its wake. The clumsy karron tried to batter at him but he drove on relentlessly, his blades biting into neck, chest and under the arms where he could deal the fastest death blow. And his accuracy was matched by the mesmeric moves of his Tai in his defence.
Each elf carried a single short sword at his outer flank which he used to slice into karron flesh at every opportunity. But the main focus was inside and up. Every strike by a karron was parried or countered. Every dive by a reaver met with a kick or a fist, sweeping high over Auum's head. Demons shrieked in frustration or spun away half-senseless. The Tai's focus never wavered. Their understanding of each other was total. It was what The Raven had striven for all their years of fighting. They thought they had achieved it. They weren't even close.
It was a dance that the Tai wove and those who didn't know the steps had no chance of survival.
Hirad staggered under the force of a blow to his stomach. He looked down to see a severed hammer limb strike the ground.
'Gods' sake Hirad, watch yourself The Unknown backhanded
his blade into the face of the same karron and limped a pace to his next target. 'Fight or leave.'