The First Life of Tanan (12 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY

When the hundred fire globes were created, along with an extra half dozen that would be used for training, Figis suggested something else.

“If the unthinkable happens and the valley is overrun, we will need to be able to destroy the library.  I believe that if it comes to that, the tower should also be destroyed.  I hope that doesn’t happen, but there are books and other items throughout the tower that should not fall into the hands of the Komisani.”

They agreed to create ten larger globes.  Each one would be roughly the size of a man’s head.  Tanan would put a massive amount of explosive fire energy into each one.  Figis would freeze it in time and then Pinter would encase each one in his protective globe with a set of trigger words.  As an additional safeguard, Tanan would enclose each globe in a second protective globe, with a second set of trigger words.

The trigger words would be the same for all of the globes, but there would be two sets of words.  Only select Abbots would know what the globes were for, and they would be divided into two groups with each group having one set of the trigger words.  No one person would ever know both sets of trigger words.

In the event that the monastery were lost, two Abbots would have to sacrifice their lives to trigger the explosion that would level the tower.  Tanan didn’t tell anyone, but he packed more than enough energy into each globe to destroy the tower.  If the ten large globes were ever triggered, the resulting explosion would likely incinerate everything, and everyone, in the entire valley.

The globes were hung in decorative iron holders in a circle over the library, which took up the entire second and third floors of the tower.  They would provide illumination for the entire library.  Hopefully, that would be the only purpose they would ever have to serve.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Spring was imminent. The Abbots sent the negotiators out of the valley to intercept the Komisani army they expected to be marching on Jesera.  The delegation consisted of the two negotiators, a healer and a protector.  If they ran into trouble it was reasoned that the protector could keep them from harm and the healer could keep them alive.  Six of the younger Abbots went along to act as runners, to carry messages back to Jesera.

The delegation travelled to the Lataki plains and then another twenty miles south and set up their camp at the top of a long rise where they would be able to spot any approaching force.  The negotiators remained at the camp, watching the plains to the South.  The three teams of runners rotated daily.  One team stayed at the base camp while the other two patrolled the surrounding area.  Each day at noon, a new team rotated into base camp.

On the seventeenth day the incoming patrol didn’t arrive.  That afternoon the Komisani army appeared on the horizon moving toward them.  At dusk, the army stopped and camped.  Their fires were visible through the night.

The next morning, the second group of runners came to base camp to report that they had found the bodies of the missing runners.  They had been killed with swords, which meant Komisani.

The runners who had been at base camp were sent to Jesera to report that an army was approaching and Komisani rangers had killed two of the runners.  The two men split up and headed back to Jesera separately to increase their chances that one of them would make it.  The remaining runners were sent north to observe from a safe distance.

By noon of that day, the Komisani army approached the camp, stopping a quarter mile from them.  The negotiators counted about two thousand men.  A small group broke away from the army and approached the them.  It was Commander Brakkas along with two Legion Captains and four other soldiers.

As the group walked up to the negotiators camp, two soldiers stepped from behind the group and fired crossbows.  One bolt struck a negotiator in the chest and the other one barely missed.  The healer was struck so suddenly and severely that he couldn’t heal himself and fell over dead.  The protector created a bubble around himself and watched it deflect two more bolts.

The seven Komisani sprinted into action, circling the remaining Abbot.  The rest of the army advanced.

The negotiator wasn’t willing to give up.  “We have an offer for you,” he said.  “Let’s prevent further bloodshed and negotiate.”

Brakkas turned and whispered instructions to one of his Captains before turning back to the negotiator.  “I’m Commander Brakkas.  Tell me, Abbot, what do you propose?”

Several dozen soldiers ran toward the woods while the negotiator made the offer the Abbots had prepared.  By the time he was done speaking, the men were returning from the woods carrying armloads of dead wood.  They piled it around the Abbot’s protective circle and began setting it on fire.

“Your offer is rejected,” said Brakkas.  “Drop your shield and tell me everything you know about your Abbot fortress.  I will let you live.”

The Abbot negotiator knew that he was dead regardless of what he did.  He turned and motioned to the runners to go and then turned back to Brakkas and looked him in the eye.  The smoke from the ring of fires was seeping through his bubble and he coughed.  He could feel the heat.  The Komisani soldiers were laughing.

The Abbot pulled a knife out of a sheath attached to his belt.  He placed the tip of the knife carefully over his heart.  His father had given him the knife twenty years earlier.  He’d been a boy then, living in Panna.  His father was proud that his son had become an Abbot, but died several years later.  He was glad his father hadn’t lived to see what Komisan had become.

He looked at Brakkas through the smoke. “I would rather die with honor than live as a coward,” he said, and then he plunged the knife into his heart.

•        •        •

Two days later, the only surviving runner sprinted into the valley and ran straight for the tower where a group of Abbots gathered to meet him.

“Two thousand of them,” he said between panting breaths.  “They killed the negotiators.  Get ready.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Komisani rangers were scouting Jesera a week before the army was spotted on the plains.  They spent a week watching the Abbots, making detailed maps of the valley and gathering information for the assault.

Just before dawn on the day of the attack, three Komisani rangers moved quietly across a field toward the house of the Abbot they believed to be Soama, former Abbot of Port Billen and accomplice of the murderer Tanan.  When they reached the house, one of them knocked softly on the door and called out, “Soama! Come quickly!”

When the Abbot opened the door, the Rangers rushed in.  Two of them pinned Soama to the ground and the third closed the door behind them.  His hands were tied, and then they stood him up.  Two of the soldiers held him while the third held the point of his sword to Soama’s throat.

“You’re Soama?” the soldier asked.

“Yes,” said Soama, a mix of anger and fear on his face.

One of the men held a rag over his mouth and nose.  Whatever it had been soaked in smelled terrible and made Soama feel tired, like he’d had too much to drink.

“You make one little noise,” said the ranger, “and I will saw your head off with this sword.”

The Ranger cracked the door open and looked out before opening it all the way.  The other two walked Soama out.  The door was closed and the four men walked casually across the field and into the tree line.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Abbots watched from tower windows and from various locations around the village as the Komisani army entered the valley from the East side.  They marched out of the woods in two columns and formed up into platoons.

Brakkas’ command group were the last to enter the valley.  Brakkas jogged to the front of the assembled Komisani, Legion men leading less well trained volunteers.

The Commander raised his voice so that everyone would hear, “Men of Komisan!  We have travelled far to rid ourselves of the treacherous cult of the Abbots.  They are murderers!  They are arsonists!  And they are traitors against you, against me, and against our King!”

The soldiers roared their approval.

“Take no prisoners and show no mercy, for they shall show none to you!  We will wipe these treacherous masters of the dark art of magic from the earth right now, today!”

The men roared again, and a horn sounded.  The Captains yelled “Charge!” and led their platoons forward.

The Abbots had no command structure.  Two Abbots were stationed in the library and all the doors had been secured.  If the battle were lost and the Komisani made it into the tower, each of them would speak their set of words, triggering the ten fire globes and incinerating the Jesera Valley.

Abbots were positioned around the valley in various places.  They had no training for combat, but most of them carried knives and one hundred of them carried fire globes.  Their goal was to kill as many of the Komisani as possible with each one.  If they could do enough damage, perhaps the Komisani would retreat.

Mixed in with the Abbots were all the farmers in the valley, armed with scythes and machetes.  The farmers’ wives and children were in the tower.

Tanan stood near the monastery with his father and Figis.  Each of them held a fire globe, and Anin had his knife.  Figis was also holding a knife, but he wasn’t sure how much good it would do him.  They saw the army start to move and heard the sound of the horn fill the valley.  They knew it was time.

Platoons of men rushed into the valley.  Brave Abbots rushed forward to meet them in fields, ready to throw their fire globes.  Balls of light soared, and trigger words were shouted. Screams of aggression turned to screams of horror as entire platoons of men were engulfed in magical flame.

As the first wave of fire globe proves successful, more Abbots moved forward to engage the Komisani.  The Legionnaires were trained to attack in formation and there was some confusion when men started to panic and break ranks.  More fire globes were thrown amid the confusion and hundreds of Komisani died as the air around them became fire.

Half of the Komisani army was dead before the ranks broke entirely and chaos reigned on the battle field.  Abbots who had already used their globes tried to fight the Komisani with knives and were cut down.  Some Abbots threw their fire globes and ran. Fiery explosions punctuated the battlefield, and a smoky haze soon floated over the entire area.

Some Komisani were running around the sides of the battle field to flank the Abbots or get behind them.  Figis saw this and went running around the tower to try and cut them off.  Tanan saw him throw his fire globe, which killed an entire group of the Komisani.

The battle was moving closer to the tower, and Tanan was choosing a good target for his globe when a crossbow bolt flew past his head, narrowly missing him.  A second bolt followed, striking him in his left hip.  It was just slightly more than a grazing shot.  The bolt almost passed completely through him.

Tanan screamed in pain and looked down at the feathered end of the bolt, which was just barely sticking out of him.  He reached behind himself, grabbed the front end of the bolt and yanked it through.  The wound felt like fire tearing through his body, but it wasn’t bleeding too badly.  He would deal with it after he dealt with the man who had shot it.

Looking up, he saw a small group of crossbowmen through the smoke, reloading their weapons.  Tanan threw his globe at them, screaming the trigger words as it left his hand.  One managed to fire his shot, wildly, before the globe struck the man next to him, consuming all of the men in fire.

He saw another group of soldiers running toward them, and pointed, yelling to his father, “Throw it!”.  There was a thump and Tanan turned to see his father had fallen to the ground.  There was a crossbow bolt sticking out of his right eye.

Anin’s fire globe slipped out of his hand and rolled across the cobbled walkway they had been standing on, coming to a stop when it reached the edge and fell into an empty flower bed.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Tanan heard a scream of pain and turned to see a Legionnaire pulling his sword out of an Abbot who had been armed only with a knife.  The soldier looked at Tanan with a smirk and moved toward him, ready to kill again.

“No!” screamed Tanan and rushed toward the soldier, blind with rage.  The soldier was so surprised at Tanan’s action that he didn’t even raise his sword.  Tanan slammed into the soldier, driving the man back and knocking him down on his back in the middle of the cobbled path.  Tanan landed on top of the man and let loose an enraged scream right in the man’s face.

He was lost in anger and grief.  The air around him crackled with energy.  He pulled that energy into himself.  Two more Legionnaires were rushing toward him.  In a split second, Tanan created a protective bubble and expanded it, hard.  The soldiers were sent flying backward, broken.  The man beneath him was pulverized to a bloody paste.  His armor was flattened with him inside it.

The world was a blur around Tanan. He stood and walked toward the first Komisani he saw, sending a ball of flame into the man.  The man exploded, the sudden intense heat splitting him apart from the inside.

There were soldiers everywhere Tanan looked. He walked across the battlefield and killed every Komisani he saw.  He waved his arms with each strike, channeling massive amounts of energy into the hearts and heads of Komisani soldiers. Men exploded, sending streamers of flaming gore flying across the battlefield.  All Tanan could see through his red haze of rage were the men who had killed his grandfather.  These were the men who had killed Jelak.  More men erupted into flame.  The men who killed his father.

Komisani erupted in flames as fast as Tanan could shift his focus from one target to the next.  As one man fell, Tanan was already sending killing fire into the next.  Any soldier that Tanan laid eyes on was dead.  They were running to get away from him, but Tanan didn’t stop killing.

Then he saw the Commander of the Komisani army, screaming orders to the retreating soldiers.

Tanan walked toward the man.  He was about to unleash a firestorm when he felt a hand on his chest and looked down to see Figis looking back at him.

This didn’t make sense.  Figis?  Why was Figis standing in front of him?

“Tanan,” said Figis, his voice sounded distant, and too calm for this place.  “Stop.”

Tanan shook his head, trying to understand what was happening.  “Figis,” he said.  It was a statement, not a question.

“The battle is over, Tanan.  Stop.”