Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen (45 page)

Dimuund’s feet slithered on the ground, finding no purchase. He was moving fast. He glanced over his shoulder. Burning elven bodies lay thrashing on the ground. One of the boulders was alive with fire. Dimuund spun himself, using the magical force as a wall. He rolled across it, sprawling to the ground as he moved past its edge.

Both warriors and two mages were running towards the Katurans as Dimuund scrambled to his feet. A mage moved his arms left, meaning to batter Dimuund over the edge of the cliff. He leapt high, feeling the edge of the casting brush the soles of his feet, grabbed a jaqrui from his belt and threw it, seeing the blade chop into the mage’s chest. The casting died.

Dimuund landed and ran. The human warriors had set about their attack. Dimuund saw an elf try to block a blow with his sledgehammer only to lose both hands to a downward strike. Another was carved across the back as he ran for cover. A third threw a knife only to see it bounce from a magical shield.

Dimuund caught the mage following the warriors and swept his blade through the man’s hamstrings. The mage collapsed forward and Dimuund drove a heel into the back of his neck and ran on. The remaining mage had seen him. He turned and cast. The orb flew straight, its heat incredible. Dimuund dived aside but the edge of the casting caught his trailing foot. He screamed, hit the ground and rolled.

The pain was extraordinary as unnatural flames wreathed his leg to the knee. Dimuund came to his feet with a grunt and ran on. The mage gaped. Dimuund dragged a hand across his throat and ripped his carotid open. Blood hissed onto the ground.

Dimuund howled, fighting unconsciousness. One of the warriors faced him but the Tai had no time to fight. He stumbled around the front edge of the boulders, the stink of his own burning flesh in his nostrils. Three boulders had been loosened and one was already rocking, ready to fall.

Dimuund seized a hammer and knocked away the stays holding a fourth boulder. He felt a terrible pain in his back and stumbled, turning and grabbing the stone for support. The human stood an arm’s length away, his sword dripping with Dimuund’s blood.

Dimuund’s vision clouded. The warrior stepped in to finish him and Dimuund jumped back, whimpering and weakening. The warrior’s strike missed, and he overbalanced, letting Dimuund grip his head and dash it against the boulder. The great stone rocked again; it just needed the slightest impetus. The warrior tumbled over the edge.

Dimuund lurched around the back of the boulder. Some of the Katurans had surrounded and killed the remaining warrior and others ran towards him, telling him he’d be all right. Dimuund wavered on his feet, clung on to his consciousness just a moment longer. He shook his head.

‘You know what to do. Do it now.’ He staggered towards the gently rocking boulder, timing his move as he dimly knew he must. ‘But this one . . . this one is mine.’

Dimuund hit the boulder just as it reached the apex of its rock outwards. He felt it give a little, and then a little more. And at the very last, Dimuund was flying.

Auum saw the solitary mage flying down to the rear of the enemy lines. Moments later he heard the order sound to turn and run.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘TaiGethen, attack!’

They turned as one and flew back into the fight. Men, caught between a threat from above and the promise of victory ahead, swung back to press forward. Auum saw Faleen lead her Tai all the way down the right flank to keep the mages hemmed in. Quillar followed her.

Auum leapt and spear-kicked the same lean warrior he had fenced with before. He landed on the man’s chest and drove a blade through his mouth then dropped to his haunches, a sword slicing by just over his head. He spun around, braced his hands on the dead soldier and kicked high into his attacker’s chest. The man stumbled back a pace.

Auum jumped to his feet. He was pressed on three sides. He struck out right, his blade cutting deep into his enemy’s thigh as he smacked the heel of his palm into the forehead of the man ahead of him . . . and the expected blow from behind never came.

‘Mine,’ said Ulysan.

The TaiGethen stood back to back, beckoning their enemy on. Behind the lines the flying mage was screaming at the humans to run. Some had broken, but the TaiGethen held most of them trapped in the fight. Arrows fell from the walls again, keeping the enemy tight to the cliff now the mages had turned to run, leaving them shield-less.

Auum heard a faint crack from above, then the duller noise of a massive weight of stone on the move.

‘Break!’ he yelled.

Auum landed a haymaker on an opponent’s jaw, turned, grabbed Ulysan’s shirt and hauled him away. The sky above them rippled with thunderous sound. Small rocks and pieces of debris began to rain down. The body of a lone warrior landed at the base of the cliff and panic engulfed the humans.

The sound of the boulders crashing into the side of the cliff was like nothing Auum had ever heard. They came in succession, and with each that fell the cliff screeched. Auum ran hard, Ulysan at his shoulder. To his left, Faleen and her Tai sprinted towards the burning walls of the city. Quillar was still behind them.

With a final shattering sound part of the cliff wall sheered away. The first boulder smashed to the ground amidst the enemy, driving twenty feet or more into the soft ground. The boulders fell like the hail of Shorth itself, obliterating enemies and sending elf and human alike sprawling in the dirt, such was the power that drove through the earth.

Auum picked himself up and ran on, the humans and elves behind him running together to escape the avalanche. The noise covered everything else. The wind blew down before it, carrying dust and vegetation. Countless tonnes of shale and rock slid and bounced down the cliff side, dragging yet more stone with it.

The speed of its descent was incredible. Auum dived behind the burned-out hulk of a tree and saw the cliff side tumble across the ground behind him. Powered by the thousands of tonnes still crashing down from above, the avalanche spilled towards the walls.

Hundreds of men were swept up and carried over the earth. Dust flooded the air in a choking fog with debris hurled in all directions. Auum hid behind his tree, feeling the impacts crack and split the dead wood, praying to Beeth that it would hold. The dust obscured everything, blowing through the remaining trees and hanging in the air.

Auum put his hand over his mouth. He rose to his feet, coughing and gagging. A man stumbled past him. Auum thought to strike, but saw the back of the man’s head was already crushed. Auum looked for any of his people, but he could see no more than two paces in any direction.

The avalanche lost its power as quickly as it had been gained, and the noise began to subside. Auum’s ears were ringing and his face and hands were covered in cuts from flying fragments of wood and stone. He didn’t know if the walls had survived. He didn’t know how many of his people he had lost. But he did know that the dangerous open ground had been shut off.

Any further attack would have to come straight at the front gates. Yelling for any who could hear him to muster at the rally point, he headed back towards the walls and the ropes back up into the city.

Killith sounded the retreat. Jeral watched the survivors return, the wounded helping the dying back from the scene of the avalanche. He took no satisfaction from witnessing the disaster, only from Lockesh, who stood at his side when he faced the dithering general.

‘Pindock is still cowering from the noise and is more likely to shit himself than come to your aid,’ said Jeral. ‘And you, General Killith, and that useless drunk Loreb before you, have proved yourselves unfit to command this army. I have the company captains with me and the support of Lord Lockesh and the mages.

‘I am taking command of this army and the battle immediately. Ystormun wants his soldiers to return to Balaia. I will see that done since you plainly cannot. While you are not under any sort of arrest, you will confine yourself and all of your aides to the rear camp positions. I expect you’ll find Pindock and the Yellow Guard already there.’

‘You have no authority to do this. This is mutiny. The cadre will hear of it and your life will be forfeit.’ But there was no force in Killith’s voice, his words sounding defeated and passionless.

‘Maybe. But the cadre are a long way from here. Ystormun only speaks to Hynd, and Hynd reports to me.’

‘Are you threatening me, Captain Jeral?’

‘No, but I can if you want me to,’ said Jeral. Lockesh hissed and Jeral grimaced. ‘No, I’m not. I have no wish to spill your blood. After all, you have done yourself more damage than I could possibly have inflicted: the blood of the hundreds dead beneath that avalanche is on your hands. But you might want to consider your position and how the cadre will view your actions today.’

Killith sagged visibly. ‘Good luck,’ he muttered before turning and leaving the battlefield.

Word of the change in command spread like fire over tinder grass. Cheers rose across the army. Mages worked harder to heal the injured and ease the pain of the dying. Energy replaced the lethargy that had engulfed the army in the wake of the avalanche, while Jeral felt a frisson of anxiety. Beside him, Lockesh raised his eyebrows.

‘Expectations,’ he said, ‘are interesting things. I hope you’re up to the challenge.’

‘We’ll find out, won’t we,’ said Jeral, scanning the city, from the ramparts of which elves taunted their defeat. ‘What’s our casting capacity, Hynd?’

‘Three companies: Eight, Nine and Ten,’ said Hynd. ‘It’s enough to do the necessary damage until nightfall.’

‘We need to strike a blow. Something to take their courage away, leave them vulnerable to us and leave them with the night to think it over. Only one thing to do really.’

Jeral stared at the city walls. They hadn’t been tested severely and they’d withstood both fire and ice. The Sharps’ industry in armouring the front face was impressive, but he could see plenty of potential to exploit weak points. There was a big one, right in the centre.

‘Orders, commander,’ said Hynd.

‘Companies Eight to Ten to march within casting range. Concentrate everything on those gates. Knock them down and give me a way in.’

Hynd turned to relay the orders and Jeral heard them shouted across the army. Men got to their feet; company captains bellowed for discipline.

‘You don’t want to wait for Sinese and the Deneth Barine force any more?’ asked Lockesh.

‘No need when we can take the gates as we are. If you’re right about the you-know-what, the sooner we get this done the better. Anyway, I rather like the thought of the elves seeing another two thousand marching into view at dawn tomorrow. If the gates come down today then we can have this finished by lunchtime tomorrow, whatever our offensive capacities might be.’

‘Very good,’ said Lockesh. He was smiling. ‘You know, suddenly I feel I might actually survive this little expedition.’

‘Stick by me and I’ll see you all right,’ said Jeral, just about stopping himself from clapping the mage lord on the shoulder.

‘Quite,’ said Lockesh.

The three companies formed up and Jeral gave the order to march. The sun was moving behind a heavy bank of cloud on its way towards dusk. There should be just enough time. He turned to Hynd.

‘You know you should find yourself a replacement or you’re just going to be remembered as an aide. Hardly worthy of your contribution.’

‘I know just the candidate,’ said Hynd.

‘Good. In the meantime see the cook fires are lit. Hot food for everyone even if it’s only that ghastly tuber stew the Sharps love so much. Then get hold of the other company captains. We should probably have a meeting or something.’

‘We’re not going in today?’

‘I can think of no reason to. I have plans for the morning anyway. We have a whole lot more mages on their way, so if the Sharps think their city’s a mess now then they’ve seen nothing yet.’

Quillar and his Tai were gone, buried beneath the avalanche. Dimuund was missing. Faleen had fractured an ankle and Hassek, her second, had broken both wrists deflecting debris from his head. Neither would fight again in this battle.

Yet Auum had to be satisfied. The day was on the wane and the humans had failed to take the city. He ran back to the gates, his TaiGethen with him, still fresh but mourning their lost ones. They looked so few: thirty able to fight and two under the care of the healers.

Reaching the gatehouse, he saw its burned-out hulk and feared for Pelyn. He called up to the ramparts. Tulan was there, Ephram with him, speaking of the victory and boosting spirits wherever they went.

‘Where’s Pelyn?’

Tulan pointed back into the city. ‘Heading towards the stores the last time she was seen. They’re moving further south, getting anything vital to the lakeside.’

‘Good. And the walls?’

‘Holding,’ said Tulan. ‘They launched most of their spells over the top. Killed over a hundred; it’s a real mess back there.’

‘So I’ve seen.’

Tulan was distracted from their conversation and glanced out towards the enemy. He blew his cheeks out.

‘Here they come again.’

Auum raced up a ladder. Several hundred soldiers and mages were marching across the centre of the field, straddling the main trail. Every time they marched Auum wondered about going out to meet them and dismissed the notion. On open ground they would be taken apart by spells and arrows before they could ever close for a fight.