The Pilgrims of Rayne (45 page)

Telleo returned after dark to report that the children and the older folks were safe on the far side of the island. Safe? Did I say “safe”? For how long? It wasn't something I wanted to think about.

The last event of the night was to bring our makeshift army back to the gathering place to pass along final orders. This wasn't a real army. There were no officers or sergeants or any true organization. Besides Alder, none of us had any experience with waging a war. We were making it up as we went along.

I left it to Siry to organize his people. He divided them into
groups. Those who felt confident with the bows and arrows were moved to one side. My quick count said there were around a hundred potential archers. Another group was chosen for their speed. They would be the messengers who would relay orders from the mountain command post to the lines of archers. The final group would be the utility players. They would go where they were needed, whether it be to move ammunition around, help the wounded, or in the worst case, take the bows and tak arrows from those who fell, to be used elsewhere.

It was going to be a war and it was going to be ugly.

Alder explained his strategy to the group, showing them on the map where each line should be when the invasion began. He told them they should stay in their positions as long as possible and wait for the order to move back before retreating. The final move would be into the mountain, where they would continue their defense for as long as possible.

As long as possible. Who knew how long that would be? What had Saint Dane told the dados to do? How would this end? Would there be a chance for surrender? Or was their mission to wipe out the entire population? I didn't want to go there, but it was a very real possibility.

While Alder spoke, I sat behind him, looking into the faces of the people of Ibara. There were about two hundred who stayed to fight. Nobody said a word. They listened intently. Every last one of them looked scared. They were listening for anything that might give them a little assurance that they actually had a chance. They had seen what happened to the pilgrims. They may not have understood their enemy, but they knew what they were capable of. Out of the nine hundred pilgrims who left on ships that morning, only half had survived the attack.

Up until that moment, the only thing on my mind was beating Saint Dane. Like I've said, the battle for Ibara was likely to be the first battle for all of Halla. But staring into those frightened faces made me realize that it was also their battle. These weren't pawns to be used for some grander conflict. They were innocent people who had lived peaceful, productive lives. This was their home. They'd done nothing to bring on the horror that was about to descend on them. The future of all existence now rested on their shoulders. It wasn't fair. Saint Dane has said how the people of the territories always brought on their own misfortune. What had these people done wrong? Their sole mission was to survive and try to revive a dying culture. What had they done to deserve this? The answer was nothing, and it made me hate Saint Dane all the more. I wanted to win this battle for all the reasons I've said, but after spending time with these people and feeling their fear, I wanted to win for them, too.

When Alder was finished, he asked if I wanted to say something to the people. It was a tough thing. What could I say that would make them understand how important the fight was going to be? Or to give them hope that there was a chance they wouldn't be slaughtered? I stood on the stage, alone, looking out on their frightened faces. The tribunal sat to the side of the stage, trying to look confident. I knew they were just as scared as everyone else, including me. Telleo sat next to her father. She gave me a smile and a nod of support. I wanted to say something to make them feel better, but what? Most of them didn't know about the world beyond their shore. How could I begin to explain Halla? They had no idea that they were about to play a pivotal role in the future of all that ever existed, or would exist. What could I possibly tell these people that would give them confidence? They all stared at
me, looking for answers. Or inspiration. Or something.

“This battle isn't our entire future,” I finally said. “This isn't the end. It's only a moment in time. No matter what happens, there will always be a future. It's up to us to make it a better one. I believe we can do that. Never, ever give up hope, because that's exactly what they want. No matter how this battle turns out, if we continue to believe there is hope for a better future, we will have won.”

That's all I said. I left the stage feeling as if I had failed. The first person I saw when I stepped down was Siry. He had tears in his eyes.

“What's the matter?” I asked.

“Of all the things you've told me, those are the words I will remember.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Telleo.

“Destiny brought you here for us, Pendragon,” she said. “You are our future.”

She leaned forward, kissed me on the cheek, and hugged me close. I hugged back. For that one moment, I let myself believe that everything was going to be okay.

Alder and I returned to the community hut that I had made my home. That's where I finished my last journal and sent it to you. There was no way I could sleep. What would the morning bring? How would this play out? Was this going to be the beginning of the end? Or the greatest victory of all time? No, of all
times.

For so many years we've lived by Uncle Press's mandate that the territories should never be mixed. Each territory is supposed to live out its own destiny without interference. That's the way it was meant to be. But Saint Dane changed that and forced me to make a difficult choice. Is there a price that is too high to pay for victory? Should we have let the klee of
Eelong kill off the gars? Should I have left Quillan without entering the Grand X? Saying things should happen the way they were meant to be doesn't mean that things will always turn out for the best. We shouldn't interfere with the natural order of the territories, but neither should Saint Dane. Because of his devious influence things have not played out the way they were supposed to. Anywhere. Will two wrongs make a right? I don't know. The only thing I can say for sure is that it's too late to turn back now.

As I finished that last journal, I still held out hope that you had gotten to Mark, Courtney. I imagined the sun rising with no dados on the horizon. I imagined waiting for a battle that was not to happen, because the dados had ceased to exist. It actually made me more anxious. I couldn't let myself think that way. I had to prepare as if the battle were inevitable. I had to put my game face on. Lying at my feet was one of the black dado weapons from Quillan. I wanted to use it. I wanted the sun to rise.

I wanted to fight.

IBARA

A
lder and I left early the next morning for Tribunal Mountain. We walked through Rayne in the dark. With an hour to go before sunrise, the archers were already taking up their positions. For all I knew, they'd been there all night. The first line was at the edge of the beach. The next line was inside the village itself, using huts for protection. The third line was underground, peering out from the tunnel beneath the sand. The fourth and final line was behind that, halfway to the mountain. We made brief eye contact with some of the archers. I saw fear, but confidence. They weren't soldiers, but they were ready to fight a war. No words were exchanged, only slight nods of acknowledgment.

The command post was set up inside the firing room that controlled the underwater guns. From there we had a clear view of the bay, the ocean beyond it, and the village below. The battle would play out beneath us. We had the best seats in the house.

The three members of the tribunal were already there, along with Siry and the big guy who arrested me when I first
got to Ibara. This guy was our first line of defense. He sat in the gunner's chair. Also there were three young guys who were runners, to pass along commands to the archers.

I approached the gunner and asked straight out, “How good are you?”

The big guy swiveled his chair toward me and boldly said, “The best there is.”

The guy had total confidence. That made a grand total of exactly one of us.

The map of Ibara hung on the rock wall. Lines were drawn to show where the archers were placed. I stood staring at it, wondering how it would all play out. I could envision the battle, what I couldn't see was the end game. Of course, I hoped we'd obliterate the dados before they did any real damage, but that didn't seem likely. I didn't want to be a pessimist, but the numbers weren't on our side.

As if reading my thoughts, Genj approached and said, “If this goes badly, will they accept surrender?”

“I don't know. We'll have to figure that out when the time comes.”

“
If
the time comes,” Siry corrected.

He was feeling confident too. Now there were exactly two of us.

“Where's Telleo?” I asked.

Genj answered, “I sent her to be in charge of the villagers who are in hiding.”

Drea asked, “Is there a chance this might not happen at all?”

“We can hope” was the best answer I could give.

I left the map and went to the wide window that was cut into the rock. The sky was beginning to lighten. Soon we would be able to make out detail on the ocean and learn if
anything was out there. Alder joined me. We both looked out onto the black sea.

“I do not know if what we are doing is right,” he said. “But I do not believe we had a choice.”

I nodded, grateful for the support.

The inky sky slowly turned blue, followed by a thin line of light that appeared on the horizon. Sunlight was minutes away. We all stood at the window, focused intently on the glowing band.

“I don't see anything,” Siry said hopefully. “Shouldn't we see them by now?”

I didn't answer. I didn't know.

“This is good news,” Moman proclaimed hopefully. “Perhaps the sinking of the pilgrim ships was all they wanted.”

I had my own hopes. I hoped that you had found Mark, and there was no longer any such thing as dados.

“You may be right about the pilgrims,” Drea added. “They may have felt threatened by our attempt to move off the island and only wanted to make sure we'd stay here and—”

“There,” Alder announced sharply. “Something is out there.”

It was next to impossible to see anything. The water was still black.

“I don't see anything,” Siry said.

We had to wait a few painful minutes for the sun to throw more light over the horizon. When the first direct rays spilled onto the ocean, it all came clear. Drea gasped. Considering what we were looking at, it was a pretty mild reaction.

Genj said softly, “What manner of evil could have created such a thing?”

I knew the answer, but didn't think he wanted to hear it. What we saw on the ocean that morning was indeed evil.
There's no better word to describe it. At that moment I knew how those German soldiers must have felt on the beach in France during World War II when they woke up one morning to see the entire Allied fleet on the horizon.

Out on the open ocean, beyond the break in the beach that led into the bay, were thousands of skimmers. I'll repeat that. Thousands. They moved slowly, in tight formation, headed directly for us. The first line had about fifty craft. Followed by another. And another and another. Too many to count. It looked as if each skimmer held three passengers. The rising sun made them look like ghostly silhouettes. They were angels of death. The waiting and wondering was over.

We were about to be invaded.

“They have weapons,” Alder announced.

From as far away as we were, we could see that one dado on each craft held a golden rifle. They looked like weapons from Quillan. The gunner stood next to me, staring in wide-eyed wonder.

“You say you're the best,” I said to him. “Prove it.”

The gunner stiffened with resolve and jumped for his chair. The controls were simple. In front of him was a panel with a series of toggle switches. The chair was high enough for him to look down onto his weapons in the sea below. A series of mirrors were embedded in the stone beneath this window, each giving him the view of a particular gun.

“What kind of ammunition does it fire?” I asked.

“Small projectiles, propelled by water pressure.”

Oh. That didn't exactly sound like a devastating weapon of mass destruction, but it was a little late to be picky.

“How many shots do you have?”

His answer was a frown that meant “not enough.”

The lines of skimmers tightened up as they drew closer to
the opening of the bay. That was good. It made for a smaller target.

“Raise the guns!” Genj ordered, his anxiety growing. “Fire!”

“They aren't in range,” the gunner replied, concentrating. “Don't worry. When they get closer, I'll give them a special welcome.”

I saw a black flash swoop through the sky, flying past the mountain, headed out to sea. It looked like an oversize black bird. I'd never seen anything like it on Ibara, but I'd seen it before.

“Saint Dane,” I whispered to Alder.

Alder added, “It appears he will be viewing his war from above.”

“Yeah, let's give him a good show.”

My palms were sweating. Out of habit I picked up the black dado-killing wand. It served absolutely no purpose other than to give me something to hold on to. I kept squeezing it while watching the dados approach. More and more lines kept appearing. It looked as if there were an endless number.

“Little closer,” the gunner coaxed. His hand gripped the joystick. “Little closer.”

The dados tightened further. The first line was fifty yards from entering the bay. They were in range. All was silent. That wouldn't last.

“Welcome to Ibara,” the gunner said, and reached for the control panel, quickly flipping a line of switches.

One by one the guns of Ibara rose up out of the water. Before this I'd only seen one set of guns. Now ten silver dual cannons came out of the depths and locked into position, forming a protective half circle in front of the bay. The dado
armada was sailing right into their sights. The battle for Ibara was about to begin. The gunner's right hand was on the joystick to aim and fire. His left hand was on the control panel to alternate between guns.

“Now, now!” Genj ordered.

The gunner let loose. With his chair swiveling quickly to line himself up with the series of gun sights, he unleashed a torrent of missiles.
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
Instantly dados exploded before our eyes. It would have been a gruesome sight if they had been people. But they were machines. It was like shooting a dishwasher. A deadly dishwasher, but still, a dishwasher. I dug every second of it.

The gunner spun back and forth quickly, lining up his sights, using his left hand to alternate between the ten dual guns, blasting the dados into eternity. It was a beautiful thing. He was good. Then again, there were so many dados, he could have fired with his eyes closed and nailed one every time. Since the drivers of each skimmer stood to the front of their crafts, they were always the first hit. Once they were either knocked off their feet or blasted to bits, the skimmer would lie dead in the water while the other dados scrambled to take control. It caused a massive jam up. The skimmers piled into one another. The chain reaction kept growing until it was chaos on the water. Sweet.

“This war will be over before it starts,” the gunner shouted confidently as he kept firing.

The term “shooting fish in a barrel” sprang to mind. The gunner never missed. One shot meant one dead dado. Sometimes more. Soon the water was filled with floating dado parts.

Drea was overjoyed and clapped her hands, exclaiming, “We won't even need the arrows!”

Alder wasn't as confident. He watched the carnage with a
scowl. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. The gunner was doing better than we could have hoped. He was destroying hundreds upon hundreds of dados. Unfortunately, there were thousands upon thousands of dados. We were only in the first quarter.

I grabbed one of the runners and shouted, “Get down to the first line of archers. Tell them to hold their fire until the dados step onto the beach.”

He nodded and ran off.

“What do you mean?” Drea asked in dismay. “It doesn't look like they'll get beyond the opening to the bay, let alone the beach.”

“They'll turn back,” Genj said with confidence. “Now that they see how well we're defended, they'll cut their losses.”

“They won't,” I said flatly.

“How can you know that?” Moman asked.

“They already knew about the guns,” I answered. “Why do you think they sent so many? They're machines. They don't care how many are destroyed. They'll just keep coming until our ammunition runs out.”

The gunner continued his onslaught. The water was a debris field of destruction. Skimmers flew along with no drivers, smashing into other skimmers. The dados in the water couldn't swim. If a missile didn't kill them, the water did. Hundreds thrashed wildly before sinking. Many were hit by speeding skimmers, or from the next line of dados. It was a slaughter.

“I'm nearly done,” the gunner called out.

“Keep firing!” Genj ordered.

The gunner didn't miss a beat. He kept swiveling and spinning, changing his guns, destroying dados. I realized that he was using fewer and fewer of the guns. Soon, he shifted his
firing between only four. Then three and two and finally one. With a last destructive burst, the guns fell silent.

“That's it,” the gunner said, exhausted. He was covered with sweat and breathing hard.

Down below there was a logjam at the entrance to the bay. The dados from the rear couldn't push past.

“This obstruction will not last long,” Alder observed.

He was right. Several skimmers left the rear ranks and zoomed around to either side of the bottleneck of dead skimmers and dados. Methodically they pushed the debris out of the way.

“They know what they're doing,” Siry said. “They expected this.”

I didn't know how many dados the gunner had gotten. Three hundred? Five hundred? Maybe a thousand? Who cared when there were thousands more out there with only a hundred yards of wreckage between them and the bay.

The tribunal realized that their brief moment of triumph was already a memory.

“It's up to the archers,” Siry said.

There was nothing we could do but wait, and worry. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. It was a false calm. The storm would start again soon enough. Down below I saw the first line of archers tensing up. They knew what was coming. It was going to come down to numbers. If the tak-charged arrows could knock out enough dados, it might end the invasion. Looking out at the multiple lines of dados in skimmers, waiting for their pathway to clear, I didn't like our chances.

“I'm no use up here,” the gunner said. “I'm going down to join my line.”

“You were incredible,” I told him.

“I'm proud of you,” Genj added. “We all are.”

The gunner nodded in thanks, and was gone.

The dados waited patiently on their skimmers for the path to be cleared. Those not clearing the debris had re-formed into tight groups that looked exactly wide enough to pass through the opening into the bay. They knew what they were doing all right. Still, there was no way they could know what waited for them in Rayne. They knew about the guns. They didn't know about tak.

“This is it,” I declared.

The entrance to the bay was clear. The skimmers fired up and moved forward. The eye of the hurricane was on its way out.

“Wait,” I whispered. I wanted the first line of archers to do just that. My fear was that they'd start shooting too soon and the dados would scatter. We needed to draw as many as we could into the trap and maximize the destructive power of the tak arrows.

The dados were in no hurry. They moved slowly and in perfect formation into the bay. They looked more like conquering heroes, who had arrived to capture their spoils, than an invading army ready for battle.

“They think the battle is over,” Siry said hopefully. “They have no idea they're about to hit a firestorm.”

The armada grew closer to the beach. I hoped the runner had gotten to the line with my message to wait. It had to be terrifying to be down there, watching the enemy get closer. But they had to be patient. The longer their nerves held out, the more dados would go down.

“They are doing it,” Alder declared. “They are waiting. We may have a chance.”