Blinded by Power: 5 (The Death Wizard Chronicles) (9 page)

The night was warm.

And still.

The large company crept into the nearby woods, making nary a sound.

If the black dragon was watching, he did not show himself.

IN THE DARKNESS of the trees, Chieftain Kusala and Queen Madiraa sat by themselves at the base of a yellow poplar and munched on dried shrimp and brown bread. Neither had much appetite, but both knew they needed to maintain their strength for the trials to come. However, what those trials might be were now in question. It was clear to Kusala that Madiraa was in no mood to lend aid to Jivita.

“My fortress burned, and my people burned with it,” she said bitterly. “Horrors have occurred that are beyond my comprehension. And yet here I sit, safe and sound. I am a coward and a fool. I should never have
fled
.”

Kusala frowned. “We are all distraught. In my lifetime, the Tugars have never run from anything. Never before were we so outmatched. Yet if you and I and the rest of our company had remained within the fortress, all those who died would have perished, regardless—along with us. At least now, Nissaya is not utterly defeated. Its queen and a few of its soldiers have the opportunity to strike another blow.”

Madiraa sneered. “And where will this blessed event occur? At your precious Jivita? Why would I prefer to die there than within my own walls? Nay, I will not go to the White City. A wiser choice has occurred to me.”

“Say it, then. Time grows short. The Tugars, at least, will go west.”

“Let me ask you this, chieftain. Do you believe that Invictus will make a personal appearance at Jivita, before all is said and done?”

“It is likely.”

“Then is it not obvious where I intend to go?”

“Riddles have never been my forte, Madiraa. Please speak plainly to a weary old man.”

“Very well, old man. The black knights are the victims of a siege. In response we will conduct a siege of our own. I plan to challenge Avici while the sorcerer and his army are elsewhere.”

This amazed Kusala. “Your plan is bold and perhaps well-conceived, except for one problem: even with his army far away, Invictus will not have left Avici unguarded. You will be surpassed in numbers and strength. And there is the matter of the Golden Wall. It does not rival the bulwarks of Nissaya, but it is formidable—and its southern gates are said to be unbreakable, even by magic.”

“There is another way into Avici,” Madiraa said, her eyes glazed.

“I know of no other.”

“Have you forgotten Kauha?”

Kusala gasped. “The marshes are more dangerous than a thousand score golden soldiers. Not even your conjurers have the strength to survive such a crossing.”

“We shall see what we shall see,” Madiraa said.

“This is madness!” Kusala said, rising angrily to his feet.

The queen also stood. “And choosing again to fight an army capable of routing Nissaya is not? Every man and woman among you will perish. At least I stand some chance of smiting the sorcerer in a way that might cause him harm.”

Kusala shook his fist at her. “Madiraa,
listen
to me. Even if you were successful and somehow made it through the marshes, you would be overwhelmed once inside the Golden Wall. Hundreds of thousands live in Avici. Not all are soldiers, granted. But neither are they helpless, I’m sure. You would kill them all?”

Madiraa’s eyes filled with angry tears. “I will kill whomever I can kill, destroy whatever I can destroy. I owe no less to the innocents slaughtered inside my fortress who expected more of their queen than they received. Leave me now. Take your warriors and rush off to another hopeless cause. I will not do so.”

There was nothing left to be said. Kusala gathered the Asēkhas and Tugars and prepared to strike west. Their queen’s choice seemed to confuse many of the black knights, but neither would they dare to question her. They were well-armed with sword, dagger, and bow, but they wore little armor, having abandoned it in the catacombs. Many had assumed they would receive new suits in Jivita.

Indajaala came to Kusala and bade him farewell. “Her mind is made up, and I cannot abandon her now, after all this,” the conjurer said.

“I would not ask you to do so, my friend.”

Another approached from the darkness. Kusala recognized the Senasanan countess, her beautiful face smudged and distressed.

“And what of the civilians, chieftain?” Dhītar said.

“You are free to go wherever you wish.”

“And where might that be? There are more than two hundred of us.”

“Go north to Mahaggata. You will be safer there than with us. We follow the storm.”

To Kusala’s surprise, Madiraa interrupted them both. “Fine lady,” the queen said, “you and the others are welcome to join us. We number less than fifty score and can use more able bodies.”

A large man stepped forward. “I will go with you, missus,” Maynard Tew said. “I have been to Avici and know my way around quite a bit.”

Standing nearby was Churikā. “A coward such as this would not dare betray Invictus,” the Asēkha said to Madiraa. “Instead, he will betray you.”

“I promise with all my heart that I will not. I saw what happened in Nissaya, just like the rest of you. Besides, Dhītar and I have gotten kind of friendly. And there’s no doubt which side she’s on. So if I want to stay in her good graces, I need to fight with her, not against.”

Dhītar blushed. Then she turned to Madiraa. “My queen, I cannot speak for the others, but it would be an honor to accompany you. And I’ll do my best to make sure that my
friend
behaves himself.”

“As will I,” Indajaala said, his eyes narrow.

It was decided. After that, the farewells were brief. A short time before dawn, Madiraa, the black knights, and the refugees who had chosen not to flee on their own headed northeast toward Avici, while Kusala, the Asēkhas, and Tugars headed west toward Jivita.

The race was on—in both directions.

WHEN KUSALA screeched the signal to retreat before entering the keep, Asēkha-Podhana groaned in frustration, knowing full well that abandoning the fortress now that Mala was inside its three walls guaranteed a slaughter of unthinkable proportion. The need to flee enraged Podhana. In the near future he hoped to see the Chain Man pay dearly for it.

As Podhana began his retreat toward the western walls, the other Tugars who had not made it inside Nagara joined him. Around each corner and down each alley, more black-clad warriors appeared, most with strange yellowish goo dripping from their
uttaras
. The newborns would win tonight, but not without a price.

Nissaya was a mess. Tens of thousands of refugees clogged the narrow streets, begging for help and trampling one another in their desperate attempts to flee, but there were few places for them to go. The most dangerous ground army in the history of the world blocked their escape, and the Tugars and black knights were not powerful enough to protect them all. If it had been Podhana’s choice, he would have stayed and fought to the death; yet even he comprehended the wisdom of flight. Within this crowded labyrinth, the Tugars would be unable to save the lives of those trapped inside, and they too would be routed. The odds would be better in the open fields east of Jivita.

Fifty score black knights managed to join them. Podhana wasn’t sure whether to consider them brave or cowardly, though if craven they were no worse than he. The bulk of Mala’s army still was behind them, and a buffer of hysterical refugees separated Podhana and his company from the majority of the monsters. Regardless, they met some resistance, mostly in the form of raging newborns.

Having already witnessed so much slaughter, the black knights shied from the golden monsters, knowing they were no match for them, and even the desert warriors struggled. An
uttara
turned on its side and driven through the slit of the visor wrought instant death, but the newborns—despite being as large as cave trolls—were quick and agile, and by no means did they just stand still and allow the Tugars to slay them. Except for the one vulnerability, the monsters were almost impossible to kill, their metallic hide resistant to even the fiercest stabs and slashes.

When the Tugars and black knights finally reached Hakam, the third bulwark’s interior stairways were already overcrowded with refugees. Podhana watched as an elderly woman who had somehow fought her way near the top of the battlement was shoved over the side, splattering on the black granite just a stone’s throw from where the Asēkha stood. He noticed other broken bodies nearby. Panic cared little for courtesy.

Ironically, a dozen or so newborns cleared a path that enabled the Tugars to follow. As the monsters rushed up one of the stairways, they savagely attacked anyone who clogged the way. In response, the terrified refugees leapt to their deaths, preferring a quick demise to being torn to shreds by jagged teeth.

Podhana and the Tugars followed in the wake of the newborns. When the monsters reached the wall walk, the Asēkha and a slew of other Tugars rose up and attacked. Soon the newborns were outnumbered and defeated, with Podhana killing four himself.

A short time later, the black knights who accompanied them also had reached the battlement. However, the rope ladders that had been lowered over Hakam’s side were overloaded with refugees. Several ladders already had broken, casting hundreds to their deaths. But the defenders of Nissaya knew where to find more ladders stored in locked crates on the wall walk. Soon the Tugars and knights were climbing down the outside of the bulwark.

When Podhana reached the bottom of Hakam, a woman holding a baby in her arms ran up to the Asēkha and begged for protection. As Podhana went to lend aid, an arrow whizzed out of the darkness and struck the woman in the neck. She cried out and tumbled into his arms, reflexively casting the baby into the air. To Podhana’s relief, a Tugar reached out and caught the infant before it struck the ground. But then the warrior shook his head; the baby already was dead and probably had been for quite some time. Podhana lowered the woman to the ground, took the tiny corpse from the warrior’s arms, and laid it gently on her chest.

The newborns weren’t the only monsters roaming the fortress. Mogols had been stationed on Ott and were loosing arrows at the fleeing refugees. Podhana led his company up an inner stairwell and swept a portion of Ott’s battlement clean of the wicked savages.

Beyond the second bulwark lay an eerie silence. When the Tugars and black knights climbed down its outer side on rope ladders, they approached the gaping moat without resistance. Hundreds and then thousands of refugees joined them, clambering down the ladders like swarms of ants.

The black knights again were helpful, skillfully reconstructing one of the drawbridges that spanned the moat, which now was emptied of water but still virtually impossible to cross, if not for the aid of a bridge. Soon they were atop Balak and gazing westward at the Gray Plains. More than a thousand Mogols, mounted on wolves and carrying torches, patrolled the open area. They were no match, however, for almost seven thousand Tugars and one thousand black knights. Podhana made sure that none survived to report back to their master.

A bell before dawn, the Tugars and black knights left the fortress behind. At least five thousand refugees followed on their heels, most fleeing northward toward Mahaggata, where there were many places to hide. Podhana knew not their fate, but he was relieved that at least a few had escaped. Compared to the enormity of the slaughter, it was small solace, but better than none.

A league west of the fortress, the Asēkha called a halt. It was clear that Mala was preoccupied with the destruction of Nissaya and had scant interest in pursuing the few who managed to escape. From where Podhana stood, there was little evidence of the horrors occurring within the concentric walls, other than an unusual amount of smoke in the air. They might have been a band of travelers passing by the fortress on an ordinary evening.

Along with one thousand black knights, five hundred refugees remained with the Tugars. They stood among the desert warriors with shocked expressions, waiting for Podhana to tell them what to do.

“The Tugars go to Jivita,” Podhana said to the gathering. “Any among you are welcome to join us, but we are no longer in a position to cater to weakness. If you fall behind, we will not tarry with you.”

An elderly man cried out, “Where the
Kantaara Yodhas
go, we will follow!”

Mimicking the Tugars, hundreds of others shouted,
“Ema!
Ema!”

Under ordinary circumstances, Podhana would have taken pride in such a display. Now he felt only an immense, suffocating shame. Like never before, the Tugars had failed. And then they had run. Would they fare any better at Jivita? Like never before, Podhana lacked hope.