Ramaeka (The Ramaeka Series Book 1) (27 page)

 "Agreed,”
Stripe slapped him on the shoulder, his eyes already gleaming fiercely with the
thought of the coming battle.  Parrit handed over a flask of water and
some food.

 "Eat and
drink only a little, you do not wish to be weighed down in the fight but you
will need the energy.”

Ramaeka and
the others waited patiently as Stripe ate and drank before he began to warm up.
 As the hour drew to a close he visited the privy and then joined them on
the top of the guard tower.  The others wished him luck before stepping
below to give Ramaeka room to change.  Drum beats signalled the end of the
hour.  Ramaeka suddenly found it hard to swallow.

 "Are you
scared?” he whispered.

"Terrified,”
Stripe replied softly.  "I can do this though.  Trust me.”

Ramaeka
nodded.  He slid into his greater form and let Stripe clamber on his back.

"Hold on,”
he warned and launched himself over the edge.

Chapter Thirteen

As they glided
down, Ramaeka kept a sharp eye on the Warlord.  If his temper was as bad as
Stripe had implied then there was a very real possibility that seeing Ramaeka
would cause him to attack.  After all it wasn't every day somebody stole the
most precious treasure of a feared Warlord.

However,
despite some ominous stirring and a few growls from amongst the horde, Gasha
made no sign that he was interested in attacking though his eyes followed
Ramaeka intently.

 Ramaeka back
winged neatly, landing so that Stripe would have the walls of the city at his
back rather than the horde.  Growls rumbled unbidden in his chest as Gasha
smiled coldly pointing a long elegant finger at him.

 "I won't
forget about you thief.”

Stripe slid
off his back as Ramaeka pushed down his urge to fight and tear this human
apart.  At his friends warning look he backed away, baring his fangs
disdainfully with a soft snarl.  When they had stolen the sword he had kept his
eyes averted to avoid Gasha’s wrath now, up close again, he could finally take
a good look at this human who had caused so much pain and suffering to others. 

The man was
tall and imposing, cold grey eyes peered arrogantly down an arched nose.  A
dark trim beard framed a small cruel mouth.  He was also seething with magic
Ramaeka realised, and from the different colours that swirled within him, not
all of the magic was his own.  He fought down a shudder.

 "He goes
unharmed until we finish our business together,” Stripe said sternly.

 "Of
course,” Gasha gave him a mocking bow.

 "Now if
your friend would back off, perhaps we could begin some time today?”

Stripe ignored
the jibe and leant his forehead against Ramaeka's cheek, probably knowing that
he was angering Gasha with his casual dismissal Ramaeka thought darkly amused. 
He leaned into his friend slightly though he kept his eyes firmly on the human
and his distant horde.

"If this
doesn't work out, I know you won't run so I want you to do something for me,”
Stripe murmured.  "Finish him off before the horde gets here.  If you cut
off the head of the serpent, its body might wriggle for a while but it’s
powerless.  The city will have a chance that way.”

Ramaeka nodded
imperceptibly.  If there was nothing else he could do then he would see his
friend's plan through to the end.

As Stripe
stepped forward towards Gasha, Ramaeka eyed the horde.  He could see several
knights and soldiers in the front ranks attempting to subtly hide crossbows and
longbows, just waiting for him to take flight.  In order to gain height to get
back over the wall he would have to angle out towards them slightly, and they
knew it.  Each was probably hoping to be the one to bring him down thinking it
would put them in Gasha's favour.

Ha!  Well good
luck to them he thought scornfully, backing up to the wall on the left of the
sealed gate.  He wasn't going to be caught out so easily, let them think he was
backing up to gain momentum.

With one last
look at Stripe, Gasha and the twitchy horde, he turned and easily scrabbled up
the wall, climbing it as easily as he had scaled the walls of Talok.

Leaping from
the top of the wall, he glided down to the base of the stairs where he could
change form away from prying eyes.  As soon as he had changed he turned and
charged back up the steps.

"Did I
miss anything?” he panted, pausing at the General's command post.

"Just the
disappointed expressions on the enemy’s faces when they realized you weren't
going to fly,” one of the soldiers reassured him with a grin.

Ramaeka waved
his thanks and ran back to the guard tower, half collapsing against Amar as he
peered over to see what was happening.  Both Stripe and Gasha still stood
facing each other, they hadn't begun to fight yet to his relief.  He accepted
gratefully the flask of water Tam handed over as Amar filled him in.

"So far
they have merely insulted each other and each other’s parentage.  I believe
Stripe may have won that skirmish though I will not repeat what he said to do
so,” Amar told him still holding him steady.  Ramaeka grinned as Tam laughed. 
Travelling with Stripe and Shady had definitely exposed him to some creative cursing;
he could well believe Stripe had won such a fight.

"Aye a
strong imagination on that un,” Tam agreed.  "Shoulda seen their faces
when ya climbed yon wall, was like they'd just bin told ta eat dirt.”

"They
should have realised I wasn't that stupid,” he retorted wickedly.  Amar hushed
them, and Ramaeka turned his full attention back to the duo below.

Stripe was
yawning at something a red faced Gasha had said.

"That's
all very nice,” he drawled.  "But I thought we were here to fight, not
compliment each other.  Why don't you stop standing there trying to look pretty
and we'll get down to business.”

"I was
attempting to allow you a few more moments of life, but if you insist,” Gasha
snarled obviously trying to hold on to his temper.  He stalked forward drawing
a sword from his belt, its blade black as night, reminding Ramaeka of the
vision Zanir had shown him.  Stripe drew his own blade still smiling brightly.

"Promises,”
he said striding forward to meet Gasha

They met with
a shuddering clang of metal on metal  Gasha used his height advantage to press
down on Stripe, forcing him back a few steps before he broke away whipping his
bade down towards Gasha's right.  The Warlord caught his blade quickly, sliding
his own down along Stripe's towards his chest. Stripe fell back, sweeping out
with his foot while bringing his blade up to meet Gasha's.  Gasha stumbled back
a few paces breathing hard.  Both were beginning to sweat in the midmorning
sun.

“Stripe is
holding his own well,” Amar murmured beside Ramaeka.  Ramaeka felt rather than
saw Tam nod in agreement.  Personally he couldn’t really tell.  Why couldn’t
humans just fight like sensible creatures, with the claws and teeth Rama above
had given them?  Or well the Amar beside him.  This whole oversized knife obsession
was driving him to insanity.

Down below
Gasha had begun to talk again as the two of them slowly circled each other.

“I’m impressed,”
Gasha said watching Stripe for any sign of weakness.  “You’ve actually learnt
something since I last saw you.”

Stripe smiled
coldly.  “What can I say, with a sword like this,” he moved the sword slightly,
catching the light.  “It’s hard not to be good.”

Gasha’s eyes
flickered down at the subtle movement and Stripe took the opportunity to lunge
in lightening fast.  Ramaeka was impressed despite himself by how fast Gasha
recovered himself, yanking sideways so that Stripe’s sword sliced across his
chest rather than into it.  With a furious yell the Warlord swept out a foot,
hooking it around one of Stripe’s legs and yanking.

Stripe rolled
to his knees as soon as he hit the ground, barely avoiding Gasha’s black
blade.  He was forced to shuffle awkwardly backwards and parry on his knees as
Gasha brought the sword down over and over in a black rage.

“You stupid,
flea-bitten mongrel,” he snarled eyes wide with fury as he drove Stripe back,
spittle flying from his mouth.  Stripe scrabbled in the dirt, throwing a
handful of dirt into Gasha’s face causing him to stumble backwards.  Ramaeka
sighed in relief as Stripe regained his feet, though unfortunately he wasn’t
fast enough to take advantage of Gasha’s discomfort.

They both
stepped back again desperately trying to catch their breath, both sweaty and
dishevelled.  Stripe was reasonably unscathed save for a few minor scrapes and
bruises as far as Ramaeka could see while Gasha’s chest bled sluggishly.  Maybe
Stripe could do this he thought gleefully.  If he could hold Gasha off for long
enough for the loss of blood to catch up that is.  To his surprise however the Warlord
was smiling as he caught his breath, face covered in dirt.

“So you like
playing in the dirt?  Well allow me to extend your playtime.”  Smearing his own
blood down the black blade he pointed it at the ground in front of them
muttering so softly even Ramaeka couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying.

“Here we go,”
Amar murmured.  “This is when the battle will become truly interesting.”

“What’s he
doing?” Ramaeka demanded unable to take his eyes away as the ground began to
shift down below.

“Magic,” Tam
said disgusted.  He spat contemptuously over the side of the wall.

Ramaeka gasped
as three figures burst out of the ground, pulling and ripping limbs free as
they climbed out.  All three stood over a head taller than Stripe; their stone
bodies carved in intricate detail, Ramaeka could even make out the creases and
folds of clothing.  Their faces on the other hand were completely blank Ramaeka
saw as they turned to look at their master.

“Is this
cheating?” he asked Amar softly.  “He’s using other creatures.”

“I do not believe
so; they are merely physical representations of his power.  As I told you he is
rather skilled when it comes to magic.”

“He doesn’t
use it like us though; he has to use words and chants.”

Amar smiled
quickly at him.  “He did not have such a good teacher.”

Ramaeka
snorted in amusement before focusing back on Stripe.

Gasha was
laughing cruelly.  “Let’s see what you can do against my mud monsters
Stripe-dog.”

Stripe slowly
sheathed his sword to Ramaeka’s surprise, looking around he realised everybody
else was confused by the move as well.  Gasha frowned and waved the monsters
forward.  Stripe crouched slightly, grey eyes steady as he watched the mud
monsters.  He brought both of his hands up to chest level, palms to the sky.

“What’s ‘e
doin?” Tam asked confused.

“I don’t
know,” Ramaeka muttered.  Amar shook his head as well.

“Perhaps he is
creating an energy blast as I once taught you.”

Stripe’s palms
began to glow; Ramaeka guessed that Amar was right, though there was something
strange about the way that Stripe had balanced himself.  And surely he knew one
blast would not be enough to destroy all three, it was too slow to gather more
than once.  If there was one thing that Stripe was good at it was planning and
strategy so it just didn’t make sense.

However
instead of forming the energy into a ball to throw, Stripe slowly closed his
hands, still glowing with energy, into fists.  The first of the mud monsters
put on a burst of speed and slammed a huge fist down at Stripe who dodged.  Its
fist hit the ground with a resounding boom, creating a dent and sending up a
thick cloud of dust.

Ramaeka
desperately strained his eyes, trying to see anything through the dust haze. 
There were a couple of sharp cracking sounds, muffled thumps and quick flares from
what he assumed were Stripe’s hands.  As the dust settled, it revealed Stripe
standing on the chest of a half destroyed mud monster.  He leaped off and
headed towards the second creature which swung a huge clumsy fist at Stripe’s
head.  He ducked easily and pounded a fist into its stomach, blowing half of it
out the other side.  He followed that immediately by stepping up onto the
exposed rock of its lower stomach, bringing him into easy reach of its blank
face which he destroyed with a cruel swing of his right fist.

Ramaeka
whooped, Stripe was brilliant!  Who else would have thought of using their own
magic as destructive armour?  This was more like it.  Finally some proper
fighting.  Tam laughed and cheered beside him as Amar shook his head in bemusement. 
As they quieted down to watch the third mud monster grab at Stripe; Ramaeka
realised that he could hear a soft scraping sound.  Frowning he turned to look
around the tower, nobody was moving, all of them breathlessly watching as
Stripe knocked the creatures hands away.  Strange he could have sworn that it
was coming from the other side of the wall.  There, something had clunked
slightly like muted metal hitting stone.  An awful sinking feeling filled
Ramaeka’s stomach as he realised what it might be.

“Amar,” he
whispered.  Amar looked at him surprised by his tone.

“I think
there’s someone at the base of the wall.”

Amar looked
confused for a moment before he paled as understanding dawned.  He touched the
rock of the tower wall and Ramaeka could almost feel his magic trickling down
through the stone.  In the distance the horde was moving restlessly, he could
see them adjusting weapons, readying themselves.  He watched in increasing
horror as Stripe’s fight with the mud monster led him closer and closer to the
wall, as Gasha raised his cold black blade a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Change
Ramaeka,” Amar said urgently.  He needed no second bidding, changing faster
than he had ever changed before despite the ache in his muscles.