The Keldons were charging up the slope after the retreating Jamuraan army. Barrin could feel the force of the enemy magic fading. The air-protection units were walking up the slope to provide cover.
"Wing down along the slope," Barrin told the pilot.
"The battle's lost, sir," Yarbo said. "The army has come apart, and you can't put it back together."
"I can't salvage the day, but I can save the army," Barrin growled. "Now do as I say." Reluctantly, the pilot nosed the ornithopter down as he had been ordered.
Barrin had held back, hoping that the League generals knew what they were doing. The reversal had been so sudden that the wizard couldn't hope to turn the battle. But he was damned if he would just fly away with the Keldons utterly victorious. Barrin pulled energy from the land harder than ever, his rage and disgust growing as he came closer and closer to the Keldon forces. Fire streamers began to fly again, and the ornithopter dodged. Barrin compressed his wrath until it beat against his control like a maddened beast, then he released it. A narrow spike of energy burst from the ornithopter. It entered the ground like an awl. Huge amounts of energy flowed through a narrow channel, filling the ground with power.
An explosion erupted deep in the hill, and Barrin was spent as he flew away, his mind barely aware of what was happening. The slope was not deep, and the landslide was more of a slump than a cataclysm, but barges tumbled and buried themselves in the dirt as the ground trembled and lost cohesion. Warriors who feared no man screamed as they were buried alive. Only a small part of the Keldon army was covered, but all pursuit stopped as warriors and slaves desperately dug at the turned soil, hoping to bring living men up from the dirt instead of corpses.
"Take us to where the army is rallying," Barrin whispered to Yarbo. The wizard felt drained, disconnected as the ornithopter climbed away from the battlefield.
Chapter 12
Haddad dreamed. He fell through space. Through the still air he could see the clouds rushing up. Then, a cloud surrounded him, and there was no movement. His hands and feet knocked on wood as he turned. He was in the stasis box! The smoke forced itself down his throat, trying to strangle him. He jumped up and ran. Everything was covered. It was fog, and he ran slower and slower as the chill of it drained the heat from his body. No matter which direction he ran, he was still lost. He began to stumble and trip over uneven ground. Was that water he waded through? The fog was clearing, and now he could see. He was on a battlefield. Torn and mangled bodies stretched toward the horizon, many submerged in bloody pools of stagnant water. They were his comrades he had trained with. He stumbled from corpse to corpse, looking into dead eyes as he tried to find a survivor. Now he found childhood friends, school' mates from years before, neighbors from his youth, and members of his family. He screamed in grief, and his voice swept everything away. He cried alone on an empty plain. Then someone walked toward him. It was Latulla! The artificer stood before him, her arms open wide and a smile on her face. He ran at her, his fists clenched so tightly that blood leaked from them. She showed no fear and waved him on. He struck her, and her arms shattered at the blows. But it was Lord Druik who fell at his feet. The warlord's limbs and face were gone, eaten away by the jelly, so only a torso and head lay writhing. Then Druik was on a table, and Haddad attached new limbs and forced machine parts into the Keldon. Finally, Druik had arms and legs, and Haddad lay weapons at the hands and feet of his creation. Just the head remained to be done, a fleshy skull without eyes. Someone handed him a mask to place over the head. As Haddad screwed the metal to bone, the eyes of the mask opened and stared at him in pain. Haddad awoke.
The former League soldier lay on an actual bed. It was narrow and creaked loudly as he tried to raise his head. He finally managed to sit up. Haddad's mouth seemed full of cotton, and he staggered toward the door. A table with a bucket of water on top diverted his path. He checked to make sure it was not the chamber pot and drank using his hand as a cup. Haddad blinked as he considered the room. Light leaked through a shutter and provided a dim illumination. In a corner his gear lay in a pile, and except for the bed and the table, there was no furniture. A candle sat on the table, and he could see a chamber pot under the bed. For an inn it seemed inadequate, but for a prison it was surprisingly comfortable. Haddad tried the door, but as he expected, it was firmly locked. The window opposite the door was not locked and neither was it barred. Haddad threw the shutters wide and blinked away tears as the light assaulted his eyes. Eventually his vision cleared, and he looked out over a cluster of buildings.
In the distance were bare hills, a low wall of weathered rock hemming in the sky. There were scattered, massive structures of stone and timber. There were no real streets, just beaten paths between buildings and a road that lead off to the hills. The shadows were long and covered the ground under his window. Everything was quiet, and Haddad wondered at the silence. Now he could see warriors and slaves walking between buildings, but the scene seemed nearly deserted. A gust of wind made him shiver, and he grabbed the blanket from the bed as he looked out.
Those were women walking, he now thought. The groups were organized around a core of large richly dressed figures with smaller women orbiting around them. Haddad watched and noticed there were no children visible. In every city he knew at least a child or two played in the streets or was carried by its mother. He watched a warrior walk below him. The sound of his footsteps was muffled, and he left footprints in the ground that slowly vanished from the thick coating of moss.
Haddad was up several stories, and he wondered if he was in a building like the others before him, all high peaked and very large. Windows for light broke the walls, and on the roofs were skylights and light wells. There were smaller buildings scattered around, and Haddad recognized animal corrals, though few beasts moved within them.
Haddad listened carefully and heard the voices of children off to the side. He leaned forward and looked left and down into the comer of a walled compound. The wall enclosed acres, and children played and ran in the open field. Behind them loomed a complex of buildings with figures moving in great numbers. Haddad looked at the children near the wall as a circle formed, and a free-forall erupted. A larger boy moved through the fight, dealing out blows that left youths gasping for air. On the opposite side of the battle several girls moved as a group, setting upon fighters who came too close. The fighting died down as the victorious boy slowly circled the girls, and then the children started back toward the complex of buildings.
"Perhaps it's a school," Haddad muttered to himself and then turned as the door opened behind him.
It was a Keldon female. Her gray skin was weathered and her hair was sprinkled with white. She wore a dress of deep blue with several panels of brown leather. Her feet were booted, and a belt with dagger and wallet completed her wardrobe. She was slighter than Latulla but looked hard.
"You're awake then," she said. "I am Iola, the steward of this house. Please follow me so you may commence your duties." She paused slightly before turning to lead the way from the room. "Now I suggest you hurry and finish dressing."
Haddad had woken dressed except for boots, which he found sitting under the bed behind the chamber pot. He jammed his feet into them and patted himself down quickly. He paused. Something was on his left arm. He quickly rolled up his sleeve and discovered a metal band, which covered his upper arm. It was a dull bronze, and Latulla's sigil circled it in a repeating pattern. He tried to locate the catch or seam by which he could remove it but found nothing. How could he have not noticed it before? It was tight enough that he could not slip a fingernail under its edge. He began to dig into the skin around it when Iola interrupted him.