Conflict (45 page)

“You damned treacherous Noceans!” Mirkos cursed. “You’ll pay for this, I swear by what is most sacred, you’ll pay with blood!”

Komir took a step forward, sword and dagger in hand, to face the soldier.

“Leave him to me,” Mirkos said.

Komir withdrew.

Mirkos intoned a short sentence of power and a flame shot out of his staff. The Nocean was engulfed by flames and fled in terror, carrying the fire to several of his comrades who had just finished climbing the wall. Mirkos saw a sea of enemy soldiers trying to reach the wall with assault ladders and hooked ropes. When he saw the enemy so close he quailed, and a spark of fear lit inside him.

“There are too many of them,” he said to Komir. “I don’t know how we’ll manage to contain them. The situation is critical.”

Komir watched the scene for an instant and nodded.

Dolbar and his men had finally been able to get through the blockade. They reached Mirkos and Komir, who looked like the personification of a couple of war gods, surrounded as they were by dead soldiers from both sides. Duke Galen also managed to reach the group. His men took possession of the western wall, and to be better able to hold it, they pushed the dead bodies over the wall.

When he saw Drocus’ lifeless body the Duke said, with sorrow in his eyes:

“A great man, a brave one, and an irreparable loss to the Kingdom.

Mirkos nodded.

“The King will feel this loss sorely,” said the Duke. “He was his closest Counselor and most faithful friend.”

Several Noceans reached the battlements, and the Duke and his brother took care of them with sublime skill, since both were excellent swordsmen. The fight for the western wall turned chaotic and desperate once again, with thousands of Noceans trying to climb the huge wall while the defenders pushed back wave after wave.

Mirkos raised his staff and said:

“I’d better help our men with my magic now that the Nocean archers have fallen.”

Without any more delay, with a long utterance of power he began to send balls of fire against the enemy hordes attacking the central section of the wall. All hell broke loose among the enemy as the flames consumed them amid cries of fear and despair. They fell by the hundreds, and their burnt bodies began to pile up at the foot of the wall. But on the farthest areas, those furthest from Mirkos, the defenders were losing the battle. They were outnumbered by the avalanches of Noceans who kept coming over the wall despite their losses.

A bugle sounded from the east.

“Damnation, Kilbar is in trouble on the eastern wall!” Duke Galen cried.

“We can’t send him any men,” Dolbar said. “We can barely hold this section.”

“Perhaps not men, but what about a Mage? I’ll go. It’s most likely he’s in trouble because of some Sorcerer.”

“Agreed,” Galen said. “Dolbar and I will defend this wall. Good luck, Mirkos.”

“Thank you, I’ll need plenty of that! Stand firm, don’t let them take the wall or they’ll have free passage into the city.”

“They won’t take it,” Dolbar assured him.

Mirkos beckoned Komir to follow him, and they went down the stairs. Below, already recuperated, Hartz and Kayti were waiting.

“Come with me,” ordered the Mage.

The three of them followed without hesitation.

They mounted horses in the square and rode at speed across the city to the eastern wall. When they got there they found Kilbar at the foot of the stairs sending the last reinforcements to the lower part of the wall.

“I’m really glad to see you, Mirkos!” the Captain greeted him.

“What’s happening? What’s the situation?” Mirkos asked.

“They have some kind of Sorcerer out there and he’s decimating us. He’s used some kind of curse, some dark and depraved spell, which robs our men of all their physical strength. They can barely hold their weapons. On the upper level something even worse is going on. The men have fallen inexplicably ill, they cough and vomit blood, they can barely fight back. The surgeon says there’s nothing wrong with them, that it has to be some unknown poisoning. It must be some other kind of Nocean magic. Either we stop them or we’re lost.”

“Let’s go up. I need to locate them.”

“You won’t be able to. That cursed blackness is covering the whole outside of the wall.”

“Anyway, let’s go up.”

Thoughtfully, they looked at the darkness outside the battlements. Mirkos was searching for the telltale flash of magic being used and not finding it. The enemy went on climbing the wall like a swarm, and the weakened defenders were falling before the enemy’s greater numbers.

“I’m going to need some help,” he asked Komir, who was at his side together with Hartz and Kayti. “Can you summon up a spell of any kind?”

“No, I really can’t, Mirkos. It’s the medallion that calls, but it does it of its own volition, not mine. There was just one time I managed to work magic by myself, and it took me hours and lots of pain.”

“I see… very interesting… this medallion, I can certainly see that. Anyway, as you possess the Gift, if you’ve called upon a spell it means you’ll be able to do so at will one day. But it requires years of training and study, which we unfortunately don’t have.”

Komir bent his head, aware now for the first time of the amount of work it would take to learn to command his power.

“I’m sorry I can’t help, Mirkos…”

“Don’t you worry, it’s not your fault. Let me think…” Mirkos pointed to several bows and quivers piled beside some barrels. “How are you with a bow?”

“We’re excellent archers,” Hartz said with a broad smile. “Now that’s a way we can certainly help, and with pleasure!”

“Then arm yourselves. I need you,”

Komir and Hartz picked up a couple of bows, nocked their arrows and came to stand beside Mirkos.

“This is going to be fun,” Hartz said, grinning.

“Your friend likes a fight, doesn’t he?”

“He certainly does,” Komir replied with the trace of a smile. “He loves to crush skulls and break bones.”

“Ready?”

“Ready,” the two Norriel replied.

Mirkos summoned the two protective spheres, that of earth to protect against physical attacks, and the ethereal anti-magic one. Having both spheres raised consumed his energy fast. Because of this he had to ration their use, or else his power would run out. He had already consumed much of his inner energy with the spells he had been using. Fire spells were particularly demanding.

“I’m going to banish the darkness with a spell.”

“That will let us identify the Sorcerers,” Kayti said, looking into the dark. “They must be near the wall.”

“Indeed,” said the Mage. “But it will also have the opposite effect: they’ll be able to locate me…”

“I can see that…” said the redhead. She looked at Hartz, who with his bow at the ready had not completely grasped the implications and glanced at her questioningly. Kayti winked at him and nodded ahead of her.

Mirkos concentrated and pointed his staff. He chanted words of power and summoned a Wind Enchantment. The great translucent pearl at the end of his staff began to shed an intense white light. This pure light spread throughout the darkness, gradually destroying it as it expanded all over the plateau outside the wall. The endless sea of enemies was revealed. Below, to the right of where the group stood, came a brown flash. As if in reply to his spell, a black bolt shot out directly towards Mirkos’ body and hit both protective spheres. It weakened them significantly, but they held. Mirkos was able to identify the attacking Sorcerer and his two acolytes.

He pointed his staff at him.

The enemy Sorcerer raised his own protective shield against any spell Mirkos might send him.

Mirkos sent a ball of light which fell at the Sorcerer’s feet.

The light was shining so brightly it was unmistakable from the wall.

The Sorcerer opened his eyes wide in surprise, looked at the light and then towards Mirkos on the wall.

The Mage smiled.
You thought I would attack you with a destructive spell, didn’t you? Well, no…

Two swift, sure arrows pierced the Nocean Sorcerer before he had time to protect himself again.

He had fallen into the trap. It was the two Norriel he should have protected himself from.

An instant later the two acolytes fell, pierced in their turn by Komir and Hartz’s true shots.

“Excellent work,” Mirkos congratulated both archers. “I see your people’s fame as good warriors is well deserved.”

“Our pleasure,” said Hartz with a sardonic smile.

The Noceans, now revealed, broke out in deafening yells and launched themselves against the walls as if possessed. The defenders, free from enchantments, now succeeded in withstanding the enemy assault. Mirkos began to bring death and destruction to the enemy as the fire missiles and flames felled the enemy front lines, where the losses could now be counted in the thousands. By his side, protecting him, Kayti, Hartz and Komir killed enemies right and left, staining the battlements with red.

Mirkos was transformed into a fallen angel, a god of destruction.

He would finish off his enemies in the guise of a fire demon.

But the Noceans were not stopping; they kept climbing the walls to kill or die, guided by blind faith. Kilbar, the best swordsman in the Kingdom, slew with astonishing ease, the Noceans falling at his feet faster than he could count. Hartz wielded his sword with both hands like a god of war, tireless and indestructible. Komir danced with sword and dagger, killing everyone who crossed his path. Kayti fought intelligently, weighing up every situation, every thrust, economizing on effort. But as on the eastern wall the enemy hordes, crushingly superior in number, began to outweigh the weakened defenders. The wall was too long and the line of Rogdonians too thin. They fought and fought, bringing death to the sons of the desert, trying to help the Rogdonian soldiers who fell, overwhelmed by the dark ocean of enemies.

In the midst of the fray, half a dozen Noceans jumped on Mirkos. They came out of nowhere and before he could react they were on him.

“Look out!” shouted Komir.

Three heavy scimitars hit the Mage’s defensive sphere hard. Clumps of earth flew out of it and the shield began to crack. Komir realized Mirkos’ energy must be nearly depleted; he did not seem able to keep the sphere in being.

Mirkos defended himself with the staff but did not cast any spell.

Komir ran to the Mage and faced the enemy.

Three other scimitars hit the Mage’s defense, which gave way, collapsing completely.

Mirkos was in the open!

Komir killed his first opponent and threw himself at a second one, trying desperately to help Mirkos.

A scimitar came straight towards the Mage’s neck, but he blocked it with his staff.

Hartz came to help, and with a phenomenal stroke he severed the heads of two of the Noceans crowding round Mirkos.

Two other scimitars sought the mage’s unprotected body.

“No!” Komir shouted helplessly, aware that he could not reach the Mage in time.

Kilbar appeared silently to block the first scimitar, and received the second with a dull blow. The enemy sword sank deep into his side, like a butcher’s cleaver in a cut of meat.

Kayti appeared from behind the Mage and skewered the Nocean with a single stroke.

Hartz and Komir finished off the rest with unleashed fury.

“Kilbar!” Mirkos cried with horror and knelt beside the wounded officer

“They got me…” the swordsman said, looking at the scimitar buried in his side. He was bleeding profusely, staining Mirkos’ feet red.

“I’m more sorry than I can say, Kilbar. I had no energy left. Hold fast, for the Light!”

“Don’t worry, Mirkos… this is my duty… to die defending my country.”

A bugle sounded discordantly on the western wall.

The retreat!

Mirkos looked at Kilbar questioningly.

“You must… fall back to the …inner wall… muttered Kilbar. “We’ve lost the western wall…Duke Galen…is retreating into… the city…”

Several soldiers reached them, their clothes soaked in enemy blood, their faces heavy with worry.

“Sire…” one of them began.

“Sound the retreat, Sergeant…” Kilbar managed to order.

“At your command!” replied the Sergeant, and ran off.

“The city must not fall…” muttered Kilbar, coughing up blood.

“It won’t!” Mirkos promised.

The great swordsman convulsed one final time, and then died.

Mirkos closed the eyes of the brave Captain and cursed to himself, bitterly.

Another bugle echoed along the eastern wall, and the defenders began to fall back in an orderly manner into the city, toward the second wall. The desperate final defense would take place there.

The battle was being lost.

“We must reach the Duke’s palace,” Mirkos said to Komir. “There we can plan the defense. The Noceans are taking the whole wall. Soon the lower part of the city will be in their hands.”