SWNOVELS Fireblade: Chapter 23
“ZANDAR!”
I wait, listening to the empty sounds of the deserted hill.
Nothing except the wind keening through the low scrub and bending the dry grasses on the hillside. I start wondering if the failure of my summons might be due to the sense of dread gripping my heart as I contemplate how soon Marin could die if this gamble doesn’t work out. Then I feel the chilling approach that has become so familiar.
By the Five! Not again!
Seems like my failure was actually due to Shadow’s uncanny ability to shield and block. He lands beside us in an angry swirl of dark wings. His cloaking skills might have saved our lives back in Corinium but now it’s clear that our goals have diverged once again––and in spite of his superior strength he sounds resentful.
“You are trying to break your word already, Ariel?”
“No. I’m not. I said I would fight at your side and that is what I intend to do. I’m calling Zandar for Marin.”
“No! That infernal fire-drake will create chaos everywhere.”
I wish I could feel more certain, more confident that he is wrong about that. Or maybe it’s just that his persistent refusal to be anywhere near Zandar is like a granite wall I can never penetrate. I try a more circuitous approach.
“You mean you just discovered something new in the city that suggests we might have a chance of winning this battle without Zandar’s help?” I can tell by the slight hesitation that he has no good news to deliver on that score.
“The Emperor is dead. Your strategy for keeping him alive achieved nothing except to put my life at risk when we were supposed to be in that fight together.”
“You mean he died simply because you killed Nagal?”
“Indirectly. Purmut was wounded. He was also weakened by Nagal’s death, which meant he had also lost his power to deceive and manipulate. Dragar’s agents in the castle saw the chance they had been waiting for and murdered him.”
Not good news then.
With his disruptive adversary out of the way, General Dragar will be in full command of all his captains by the time we face him.
And the sound of approaching war horns tells me that time is now.
A red and black sea of warriors emerges from the forest surrounding the plain below, darkening the wide expanse of flat grass and scrub. The serried ranks march forward in disciplined formation, as if their commanders knew exactly where to find us. Which I assume is thanks to accurate information from the treacherous Lord Gullin.
Even so, Dragar has made incredibly fast time to reach this point so soon. If we needed any further warning that the enemy now has a far more capable commander than before, this is it.
Marin takes one look and sprints back up the slope to leap onto his horse. I hesitate… and then resign myself to the fact that another attempt at arguing with Shadow about dragonfire would just be a waste of time. Then in a breath of icy wind and dark wings, he’s gone. For a brief moment I feel a stab of uncertainty at his absence. Then I brush it aside, telling myself he will return when I need him––or more likely when he judges the time is right to protect both me and himself. Add to that his long-held desire to strike against the Rapathians, to finally wreak his revenge on his ancient foe…
Yes, I think he will be back when things get dangerous.
By the time I catch up with Marin he is silhouetted against the sky on the summit of the hill, sunlight flashing bright on the crysteel sword held high above his head.
The signal that the time to fight is upon us. The roar and clash of weapons against shields erupts in an instant response from the approaching Samarians. They increase the speed of their advance, the heavy cavalry quickly drawing ahead of the foot soldiers.
Marin watches for a moment, calculating.
“Seven hundred horse. Not nearly enough, but they’re seasoned warriors, and well trained.” He turns his own mount to face the dark-clad horde rapidly filling the plain below us. “This is where we must strike hard and fast, drive a wedge straight through the middle, splitting their force in two. The enemy cavalry only outnumbers us two to one, while it’s more like four to one with the infantry. The dukes did well to hide their horses from Dragar’s raids so he has only the animals he brought with him from Rapathia.”
If that was meant to sound encouraging, it doesn’t really do it for me but I don’t comment. I remind myself that my role and Marin’s is not simply to fight, but to inspire confidence in those who have to follow us into this battle. Marin raises his sword again and in spite of the odds stacked against us I have to admire the way he does the inspirational thing so well. I look around at the other riders forming up either side of us on the flat top of the hill and I can see that same admiration and confidence on their faces.
Marin’s poise and stature, the scarlet cloak flying out behind him, light gleaming on the crysteel blade in his mailed fist… it is an image and an icon I know I can follow, even into the bristling sea of weapons the Rapathians are marshalling below us.
He also makes a perfect, bright target for their archers to aim for.
Most of the arrows fall short but a few dark shafts span the intervening distance to bury themselves in the rough turf of the hilltop.
Marin doesn’t move or flinch. He turns to me with a brilliant smile.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” I just hope I’m reflecting that same assurance back to him, in spite of the fact that I don’t feel it.
He looks beyond me to the line of warriors and horses on either side of us and yells the attack command.
“Victory!”
He waits a brief moment for the response and then spurs the warhorse into a great leap forward, the gallop gathering momentum as the great beast engages with the slope, using it to increase the speed of its charge.
I keep pace on Marin’s left wing, neck by neck, stride by stride, until all I can feel is wind in my hair and the pounding rhythm of the seven hundred strong heavy horse cavalry galloping behind. Fear disappears, even as the gleaming pikes and lances of the enemy grow perilously closer, even before I sense rather than see the swirling cloud of icy darkness suddenly emerge from the wind in front of us.
Shadow cuts through the bristling array of steel and death, driving a path just wide enough for Marin to follow through, as I hold flank and gallop just behind him. Now we can focus on carving the gap wider, striking and slashing to either side as crysteel slices through the Rapathian riders, mail and helm, shield and gauntlet.
I glance behind to see the wedge-shaped phalanx of Samarian cavalry thundering behind us, driving the sundered ranks of invaders apart. For a few wild and glorious minutes, I feel the same surge of exultation as in the battle on the Annubian border, invincible, immortal, as if nothing and no-one can stand in my way.
Then we break through the line of horsemen, into the disciplined cohorts of enemy infantry and the deadly driving force of that first ruthless charge starts to slow. The tangle of bodies in my path blocks the way and the screams seem louder as the heavy destrier crushes fallen bodies under its iron-shod hooves. Now I’m killing ordinary conscripts, I become more aware of the slaughter I’m inflicting on them, never mind if their motivation has been conditioned by lust for plunder.
Then I glance behind and see the devastation being wrought on our own troops as the enemy pushes back against the wedge we rammed through the core of their military. We are fighting on too many sides now, in a war of attrition that I can see we have no chance of winning. Not like this.
Dragar has structured his forces with the kind of skill and forethought I never observed with Akadian. I can see the Rapathian general giving the signal to his captains to move away from the front line, each still in control of their own division while remaining guarded from direct attack.
That leaves little chance for me to quickly take out the main commanders as I did in Rapathia, to leave the ranks without direction. Dragar himself is still too far away for me to reach him––
Before I can work out the best route forward, my horse lurches sideways as the beast behind screams and falls against its flank, a long spear buried in its breast. I turn in the saddle in time to see Nem twisting to the side, trying to avoid being crushed under her dying mount. She is already badly wounded and bleeding heavily from a long gash through her shoulder, her sword arm hanging useless across her chest.
“Here!” I turn my horse to block her fall, holding out one hand to reach her while the other swings and stabs deadly crysteel into the heart of the attacking Rapathian swordsman.
Nem grabs my arm with her good hand and pulls up to gain the saddle behind me.
“Thanks.”
“Just repaying a debt or two. Get out of here so you can mend and fight another day.” I leap to the ground before she can argue and give the destrier a hefty slap on the rump, sending it back past the Samarian lines with Nem slumped over its neck. I just hope she can stay conscious long enough to reach safety.
I look around for Marin, only to see that he is also fighting on foot now, bloodied and sweating, trying desperately to cut his way toward me through the dense crowd of Rapathian warriors surrounding him on all sides.
I have to change the course of this battle somehow, before crows and vultures are the only victors on this field. If only I could figure out how.
“Shadow, I need you here.”
He is instantly at my side. A few moments of respite as the dark cloud of his wings conceals me from attack.
“Ariel? What?”
“Can you get me close enough to Dragar to fight him?”
“It won’t work.”
“We haven’t even tried yet!”
“I spied out the enemy as soon as they arrived here and started forming their ranks. Dragar has kept his captains well protected, and delegated each of them to take over command in strict order, if he or the next in the hierarchy is killed. There is not enough time to remove them all before your army is destroyed.”
“Then you have a simple choice. Let the Rapathians win, or let me summon Zandar. I swear that only Marin will go with him.” As I watch the impatient anger on his face, I suddenly get a flash of understanding, why he has been so adamant in his continuing refusal. The bitter story he once told me of how the Rapathian Elementals betrayed and enslaved him.
There is no way he could trust a powerful Elemental like the Guardian of Rahimar.
“Shadow, so long as you stay clear of the dragonfire, you have nothing to fear from Zandar. He has no interest in capturing or enslaving you. He is still an original Elemental, almost untouched by human influence and discrimination. Just as you once were, in ancient Eldaran. Try to remember how it felt back then for you. Then you will understand.”
His hesitation seems to go on forever. At last he makes a decision.
“If I do this, I have to leave your side. I can no longer protect you if Zandar is near you.”
“Go and defend the Eldrin instead.”
I hold up my hand to silence his instant protest. “You can make the alliance work this time. Valara only cursed you because you broke your word. Now you’ve had several centuries to think about that, maybe you can figure out a better way.”
Shadow gives an exasperated twitch of impatience and disappears into the icy wind. I don’t have a great deal of confidence that he will renew his alliance with the Eldrin, not after what happened last time. To do that, he would have to acknowledge his own part in that unfolding disaster. A skill not exactly common with either humans or Elementals.
Now I have to prepare for a different kind of dangerous alliance.