Steel and Sorrow (26 page)

“Captain, we’re just getting in their way now. Jeldor sent orders to start wheeling his men to the right.”

“See that ours fall back behind the pikemen and heavy infantry. Have them fire over our front lines and into Tomalt’s rear, if possible. But under no circumstances is anyone to take chances.”

“Captain, where are you going?”

“I need to check on the mages.” She heard the lieutenant shouting her orders from behind as she took off.

Sliding through the mass of soldiers gave Yanasi a new appreciation for the infantry. The smell of blood and sweat comingled with fear and death gave the whole affair a personal nature that she only thought she had understood.

Watching from a distance while plucking a bow or defending a wall is much different than this.

A javelin caught a soldier next to her in his chest. She involuntarily let out a yelp at the crunching impact. Soldiers trampled right over the newest corpse with barely more than a second glance.

I guess in the moment you have to be detached. Otherwise you realize the man next to you spurting blood was someone’s father, husband, or son.

After more jostling and cursing, she finally reached the small circle where the mages supported the left wing. Two green-robed and a dozen yellow-robed mages aided the two black-robed figures from Jeldor’s ranks. The entire group fought against some twisted sorcery she failed to understand. Bursts of lightning, balls of fire and blue light, swarmed around the group.

A sudden gust of wind followed by an intense heat threw her backward. Her helm rattled against her skull as it banged into the ground. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision while ignoring the stabbing pain in her neck. With head swimming, she rolled slowly to her knees. She brought one hand up and touched her face, flinching at the rawness of her skin. She squinted and finally gained some focus.

Soldiers lay around her, chests heaving.

Out cold.

Barely audible above the buzz in her ears, officers bellowed at their men to strengthen the gap as Tomalt’s army pressed toward their location. Yanasi staggered to her feet. The ground swayed beneath her as she added her voice to the other officers in order to rally men to their spot.

The lines quickly shored up.

Yanasi shrugged away a hand that tried to steady her as she stumbled over to the group of mages. Soldiers drug away those too injured or dead to be of any use. Three yellow-robed mages and one green had died. Three more yellow-robed mages and one black-robed mage suffered injuries too great to continue.

Blue light swirled around the group as vines of sorcery targeted the survivors. The mages rallied around the lone surviving black-robed mage and held. She ran up to the group. “What happened?”

The black-robed mage glanced at her. “They set us up. We thought we had the upper hand. We weren’t ready for their attack.”

“What can you do?”

The mage shook his head as another fireball streaked toward them and disintegrated around the invisible barrier above. “Nothing other than this.” Sweat poured off his face. “Those who survived aren’t strong enough to keep up the defenses while I try to mount a counterattack.”

“They’re going to wear you down. Why can’t someone else attack while you maintain the defenses? Just enough to keep them guessing.”

“You need to convince Janik to do that,” said the black-robed mage. “The yellow robes aren’t strong enough. But I doubt it will do any good.”

Yanasi stalked off in the direction indicated.

She almost missed Janik hovering over the lifeless body of his fallen friend. Heat from another fireball radiated against her back. She reached Janik and grabbed him by the arm, yanking the green-robed mage to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“Leave me alone,” he said, wrenching her grip free. He made an effort to return to the side of Yorn when she spun him back around.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Yorn’s dead!” he yelled.

Something about the way he made that simple statement set her off. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in close. “So what? He wasn’t the first to die nor will he be the last. You think you’re the first person to lose a friend in battle? How dare you act like his life is better than those men still counting on you. Mourn him later. You can’t do anything about him now. But you can save dozens, if not hundreds more, by pushing aside your feelings and doing what Krytien told you to do.” She glanced back at the group of mages visibly straining under the onslaught of power thrown against them. “One Above! Go help them!”

Janik eyed Yanasi for a moment, turned a last distressed glance on Yorn's body then stormed off toward the group.

Krytien, you better be on your way.

* * *

“Their right wing is falling apart, general,” said Bronn from atop his mount. “See how Tomalt is driving them further and further into this blasted fog.”

“How do we know it isn’t a trap and they aren’t trying to draw us in?”

“Don’t be preposterous. Draw us in where? They have a river at their back. They’re more than welcome to drown themselves if that’s their goal. It’s time to make our move.”

“But sir, Tomalt gave us instructions to remain in reserve in case we have to stop Kaz from flanking his main body.”

“Like such a thing is possible,” spat Bronn. “Tomalt is almost as much of an idiot as the black foreigner is for choosing this location to meet in battle. They have a river to their rear and right. Low mountains on their left. How could they possibly flank us?” He paused. “General, I won’t sit by any longer. Conroy’s indecisiveness and unwillingness to commit himself is as ridiculous as Tomalt’s risk.”

“Conroy did go for your plan to aid Tomalt under the guise of a temporary truce though.”

“Yes. He finally realized it was in his best interests.” Bronn grinned.
And mine as well. If I can gain the respect of Tomalt’s troops now while defeating Kaz and Jeldor, I should be able to steal them away after Tomalt mysteriously dies. After all he has no family.
His smile broadened.

Bronn cleared his throat. “Pass out the orders. We move in at once.”

* * *

The left wing failed to turn as quickly as Kaz would have liked. A massive wave of sorcery struck and the lines buckled. They regrouped in time to avoid disaster, but the damage had been done. His plans to roll up Tomalt from the left looked like they may fall apart. He had sent Krytien and several of the mages held in reserve to bolster that flank.

A runner came up. “Sir, I’ve got two messages from General Grayer.”

“What are they?”

“The center is starting to weaken. He’s calling for reinforcements.”

“What happened?”

“The sorcery on the left wing disrupted the right’s retreat. The lines are off balance and Tomalt’s men are flooding over too rapidly.”

Horns sounded.

Bronn is advancing.

He cursed. “I thought Crusher manned the center.” He could no longer see the Ghal through the blanket of gray, but earlier the man had laid waste to any who had dared come near him.

“He and the squad near him were separated from the lines as we fell back. We don’t know where he is since the fog is making it hard for us to see our own.”

Kaz swore. “Tell Grayer to do whatever it takes to hold the center and then shift to the right to make room for me when I arrive with our reserves.”

The runner saluted and scurried off. Kaz grabbed the other messengers waiting nearby. He instructed one to send word to his cavalry. They were to maneuver around the left wing and disrupt Tomalt’s rear. Next, he signaled the remaining mages to lift the fog and focus instead on distracting Bronn’s mages. Lastly, Kaz ordered up the few hundred skirmishers he held in reserve. They trotted up to his position, some wearing mail, others only leather and shield for protection.

He dismounted to better lead them and threw on his helm. Looking out from the mouth of the panther’s head, he yelled at them to advance.

* * *

Kaz crashed into the center formation with his reinforcements. Bronn’s troops had joined the battle recklessly, creating disorder that weakened Tomalt’s momentum. Kaz’s skirmishers quickly reinforced his heavy infantry and stabilized his lines.

Kaz bullied his way to the front, and sheared the top quarter of a frightened soldier’s head with his sword. The man fell, eyes still wide in disbelief. The looks of horror continued as he hacked and battered the interchangeable soldiers that continued to fall before him. His armor seemed to hold the gaze of the first half dozen he killed. Shouts that the One Below himself had taken the battlefield started spreading among the enemy.

The proclamation caused the enemy to find their courage and several rushed him at once. Their foolish prejudice only fueled the fire in his belly. Kaz went about killing like a woodsmen chopping down trees, moving unencumbered as Cisod said he would be able to.

He lowered his shoulder, and barreled into a man with a raised shield. The impact threw the soldier backward into two others. All three fell in a heap of limbs. Kaz sidestepped a thrust from the next attacker. He punched the hilt into the man’s face. The edge of the crossguard bit into the man’s visor and Kaz tore away part of his opponent’s helm. Kaz punched again, jamming the pommel into the soldier’s eye. A chilling scream sounded as the man clawed at his face.

Kaz ducked under another wild swing and sliced through his opponent’s mail. Entrails spilled from the soldier who dropped to his knees, looking down in horror.

Soldiers came at Kaz one after the other. It seemed to him a line of men waiting death.

Kaz lost himself in the killing as the enemy piled around his feet. He pushed the point of his sword through a gap in an opponent’s armor under the armpit. The man collapsed and Kaz yanked his sword free. He looked around for his next opponent and finally found none nearby. He realized then that he somehow had worked himself free of the organized lines and rather than retreating with the right wing as planned, he and his skirmishers had pushed deeper into Bronn’s forces.

I couldn’t even follow my own orders.

As the last of the fog dissipated, a thunderous scream ripped through the air. Crusher came into focus, standing alone as a pocket of the enemy survivors threw themselves at him. The Ghal’s warhammer sent one soldier ten feet into the air while the backswing flattened another. The giant raised the massive weapon overhead in triumph. He roared in defiance.

He’ll be talking about this for days.

A burst of fire outside of Kaz’s peripheral slammed into the Ghal.

Crusher fell.

Three mages, two black and one green, game into view, forming a half circle around the giant. Wisps of smoke rose from Crusher’s frame as the fire quickly burned itself out. Kaz would have thought him dead if not for the faint up and down movements of his friend’s chest.

One of the black-robed mages spoke, but Kaz only saw the man’s lips move. The rage coursing through his limbs and pounding in his heart filled his head. He rushed the three mages, growling. The black-robed mage looked up and smiled. He raised his arm as a bright orange fire exited his hands toward Kaz.

Kaz felt a familiar heat engulf him, reminiscent of the power that struck him at Cathyrium. He tensed his muscles, cursing himself for being so careless. But the fire faded.

The armor worked.

Kaz reached his attacker in several fast strides. The mage’s face paled. His sword nearly shorn the mage in half at the waist. Just like at Cathyrium, power exploded from the man. The burst threw Kaz backward, but the armor protected him again and he rose quickly to his feet. Kaz hurried back to the other two mages, dazed from the blast, and lopped off their heads in two rapid strikes.

Horns sounded.

Kaz scanned the field. The remnants of two armies fought their way through the bloody mess of a battleground. To his right, Bronn’s battered forces escaped south.

Near what had once been the center’s lines, Tomalt’s army retreated east.

Kaz’s forces hadn’t been able to completely encircle Tomalt, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

He grabbed the first half dozen men he found and sent orders to Jeldor and Grayer not to pursue the enemy. He didn’t want his forces divided.

Looking over the field of death once again, he also knew that his army had not made it out unscathed. Before he pushed on with the campaign he wanted a better assessment of his losses.

He shouted at several of his skirmishers within earshot. “Bring a wagon up and tell the first mage you find to come with you.”

“But sir, we’ll never get a wagon through all this,” the soldier said, waving a hand.

Kaz stormed toward the soldier. “You find a way to do as I say or so help me your corpse will join the others.”

The man paled. “Y-yes, sir. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The men ran off. Kaz walked over and took a knee before his friend. He laid a hand on the blackened armor of the Ghal.

“Don’t die on me,” he whispered.

* * *

Krytien allowed himself to relax when he received word that Kaz wanted no one to pursue Tomalt and that the army should hold its position. Like the other soldiers dragging themselves along, his body ached down to his toenails. He couldn’t imagine pushing on in his current state.

I weakened myself too much on that blasted armor yesterday.
He blew out a deep breath.
Well, Kaz is alive at least.

He had reached the left wing just in time to solidify their defenses. Upon arrival, he had been surprised by Janik’s efforts in maintaining a steady assault against the enemy. The young mage had worn an intense glare that made sense to Krytien later as he learned of Yorn’s death. Krytien tried to comfort the young mage, but Janik said he wanted to be alone.

Krytien didn’t press. He understood.

* * *

Janik covered Yorn’s head. They had been friends since Amcaro selected them to study on Estul Island as boys.

It was supposed to be fun and games.