‘A way in!’ said Bel.
Nicha regarded him doubtfully.
‘Everyone inside will be distracted,’ said Bel. ‘It’s the perfect opportunity.’ He turned to the troops. ‘Lads, ladies – follow me!’
Without waiting for a reply he led the charge, flanked by hundreds. No bolts came towards them from the blazing walls, and no cries warned of their approach – though there were cries enough within. Bel felt his bloodlust rising but had no sense of any paths . To blazes with it , he thought. I am my own man, not some mindless cart moving along a preordained route. I can make decisions for myself.
‘Look!’ Nicha called. Bel followed her gaze, and started in surprise.
‘Hold!’ he bellowed, drawing up his horse, and three hundred pairs of hooves came to a stop around him.
From around the side of the fort something large came into view. Some fifteen paces long, it looked like a wingless dragon but smoother, blood-scarlet and with black, slit eyes. The creature moved swiftly, climbing the fort walls with a rippling, dextrous ease, its body making S-shapes like a lizard. Once atop the walls it froze, tense, ready to pounce. As Olakanzar came diving down, preceded by fire, the thing leaped straight through the flames. Olakanzar’s jaws snapped shut, cutting off his fire as he was slammed backwards in the air. The creature barrelled into him, slashing at his belly with cruel claws. Together they spiralled down, Olakanzar’s wings flapping uselessly. Just before they hit the ground the creature twisted free and jumped away to land on its feet. Olakanzar crashed on his side with an almighty thud, one wing crushed beneath his bulk. Slowly he pulled himself onto his feet, trailing a broken and battered wing, bellowing defiance as the creature circled him.
The creature seemed somehow familiar, and Bel sent his mind trawling back through Fahren’s endless fauna lessons. He knew there was nothing natural like this living in Fenvarrow, but …and he had it. It looked like a giant shadowmander.
‘How in Arkus’s name did he create that ?’ he muttered to himself.
Olakanzar breathed fire once again, hitting the mander full in the face. It did not budge, instead lifting its neck to let the flames wash along it, almost mockingly. Then it hissed loudly, its dark eyes visible through the flames, and slithered forward. Olakanzar tried to shuffle backwards, fearful now of this apparently invulnerable foe. He could not do so quickly enough, though, for his legs were hurt and his wing destroyed. His head swung to find Bel, whose gaze locked with the bulging eye that suddenly seemed so pitiful. Bel lifted the reins of his horse, ready to go to his aid, but felt Jaya’s gentle grasp on his arm.
‘We cannot help him,’ she said.
The shadowmander pounced, its claws hooking into the dragon’s side. It hauled itself into place to seize Olakanzar’s neck in its mouth, and bit down hard. The dragon gave a strangled gasp that turned almost to a hiccup, followed by a last spurt of flame. The shadowmander pulled a claw free to slash at his face, raking the bulbous eye, bursting it to a dripping mess of white and bloody cords that swung from the socket.
‘Itchy!’ gurgled Olakanzar. ‘Itchy no more …’
His head crashed to the ground as the blood leaked from his neck, and all thrashing ceased. The shadowmander gave his body one final shake, and slipped free.
Shadow mages began to appear upon the walls.
‘Kainordans!’ the cry went up. Blue bolts started crackling towards them.
‘Protect the blue-haired man!’ shouted Nicha. ‘Retreat!’
Bel saw lightfists raise their hands to conjure a ward around him. As the glow descended upon him, however, it was sucked away, into the Stone hanging around his neck. The mages looked confused and started to try again.
‘Never mind that!’ shouted Bel.
A soldier screamed as he fell nearby, blue threads playing over him. The shadowmander rounded on Bel’s company, tearing across the ground towards them.
‘Retreat!’ called Bel, turning his horse. He nodded to Jaya, and she galloped away.
The entire group wheeled about, fleeing from magic and the approaching mander. Some of the soldiers flipped around in their saddles to fire arrows at it, but each bounced harmlessly off as if hitting impenetrable stone. The mander pounced again, knocking soldiers sprawling, trampling horses underfoot, snapping and flinging bodies. Bel caught a glimpse of its open mouth – its throat was completely sealed; there was no way it could actually swallow.
Not truly alive , he thought.
Adrenaline was pumping but he still had no sense of any path – the mander did not even seem to register as a target. It was something else, something evil, which stood apart from the world.
Lightfists were flinging up wards wherever they could over the retreating troops, and while these stopped the shadow bolts, they did nothing at all to halt the mander. It ran right into the thick of them, flailing its tail and cracking skulls, breaking the legs of horses, swiping with its claws and shaking shrieking soldiers in its teeth. Bel saw one fallen rider manage to rise briefly by the mander’s side, raise his sword and lunge it at the creature. The blade failed to penetrate and instead slid down its body with such force that the soldier went down after it.
I led them to this downfall. My impatience has cost them their lives.
He shook his head to clear it.
So be it. That is the nature of war.
He saw Nicha pull one of the hammers from her side, wave a hand over it to charge it with light, and fling it at the mander’s open mouth. It whirled in, then ricocheted around inside like a bee in a barrel, with a force that should have shattered the mander’s fangs – but only gave it a moment’s pause. It cocked its head, bit down hard, and when it opened its mouth again the hammer flew out, back to Nicha’s waiting hand. She cursed and slapped her reins down hard.
Bel felt his speed increase somehow, and the horse below him squealed in alarm. Now that they were out of range of shadow spells, the lightfists had dropped the wards to concentrate wholly on escape. Magic aided the horses and they all but flew along the ground. Not every soldier benefited, however, for there were too many for the mages to handle them all.
So , he thought amidst the mayhem, their spells can target my horse, just not me. Interesting.
He saw with relief that Jaya was ahead of him. Others fell behind, succumbing to the threshing whirl of scarlet – and then suddenly the creature stopped. As a few stragglers raced past it, it managed to knock two from their horses. They landed ahead of it and Bel expected to see the mander finish them off – but instead it stalked along some invisible line, gnashing in anger. The fallen struggled to their feet.
‘Fetch those soldiers!’ Bel shouted, reining in his horse. No one else had noticed that the mander had halted, and no one seemed willing to cease the retreat. Cursing, he rode back and jumped down to help the first soldier, a woman with a massive bruise on the side of her head.
‘You’re safe!’ he told her, lifted her up onto his horse and gave it a slap on the rump.
The other soldier had collapsed to his knees with a large rent in his belly. Beyond saving.
A hiss came from nearby, and his head jerked around to find the mander watching him, motionless but for its flickering tongue. He would not have thought that void could contain such hate as showed in its eyes.
‘So,’ he said, ‘what’s the issue, my dear? You cannot pass?’
The mander tensed, then sprang, and crashed into an unseen barrier. As it sprawled Bel approached, careful not to cross the line marked by its scuffed footprints in the dust. It righted itself and stalked forward, until they stood almost eye to eye.