The Elementalist : Next of Kin: The Kothian Chronicles (7 page)

Chapter 8.

The ship carrying the dark crimson robed figures, continued at speed through the violent waters of the ocean. Each giant wave merely moving aside for the craft to continue onwards, as it moved unnaturally quickly covering distances normal ships would take days to make. The swirling winds that would cause other sailing ships to rock and sway, appeared almost non-existent as it progressed unhindered by the elements.

In Pitford, Kurtis sat wondering why his breakfast had not arrived and had decided to ask the guard outside his room. He tapped on the door, before opening it and poking his head out into the corridor. He pulled a face, a look of puzzlement and confusion, as he noticed there was no one to be seen. The thought of breaking his promise to Ramon crossed his mind, and knowing the trouble he was already in, he was weary of stepping any further. However, something told him that things were not right, not only were there no guards, but he could not see anybody at all. There were always people wandering about the corridors that time of the morning he thought.

He made his mind up just to venture a short way out of his room, "Hello," he shouted, standing still awaiting for a response. As no reply came he decided to go just a few steps further from his room, "Hello," he repeated again. Once more, no reply came; with his trepidation growing that something was not right, the concerns he had, that he was breaking his promise about not leaving his room lessened. He walked the length of the short corridor that gave access to the room that had been his prison, since the incident concerning Maxim.

After making two more turns, he found himself on one of the main corridors, and at last he saw a few others hurrying, all carrying bundles in their arms. "Hey...Where is everyone?" he shouted, picking up his pace just a little to catch them up. A young boy he did not know turned to face him, "Where have you been hiding...Magicians, soldiers and those able to fight are out on the walls...the women and children are gathering in the main hall..." Kurtis did not wait for the boy to finish what he was saying. Instead, he ran hard, almost knocking into a woman and baby as he passed into the main foyer.

After apologising to the woman, he continued onwards at a walking pace, half-expecting to be grabbed at any moment for leaving his confinement. As he stepped out of the main doors, he was greeted by a scene of pandemonium. People were being ushered in to the keep yard from outside the inner wall and being lined up. He wandered forward without any particular purpose, glancing left and right looking for a familiar face to ask what was going on.

He froze as he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned his head slowly knowing he was in trouble for sure. The person behind him was much smaller than he had expected, but as he looked down at the aged face peering back at him, he grimaced. "I'm in trouble again aren't I?" he uttered letting his shoulders drop. "I would suggest you go get yourself something warmer to wear. I think a young man with your particular talents is needed more than most," came the unexpected reply. "Go on Kurtis, quickly...I'll wait here for you," Katria added giving the larger youth a little shove back towards the doorway.

Kurtis did not hang around, and after thanking Katria, he darted back inside, returning within just a couple of minutes donning a black cloak. "Come with me," Katria asked him, as she headed off far more quickly than he had thought possible for a woman of her years. As he followed, she led him through the gateway of the inner wall into the outer section. Aside from those queuing to get inside the inner gateway, the outer section was devoid of the usual people seen about at that time of day. There were no street traders, nor were there any shops open, then again, he supposed there were no customers either.

Katria paused at the bottom of the steps that led up on to the top of large outer wall. Kurtis could already see far more people than usual moving around up there, and had already deduced Pitford was under attack. Katria placed a hand on his chest, firstly affirming those very thoughts, before explaining the situation as it stood. Kurtis nodded just slightly as she explained Ramon leaving to fight at Denley, taking not only a large proportion of the army, but also many of the more senior magicians. Katria looked up at the young man, "I know what you have done Kurtis, perhaps it is time for you to show your true colours," she added tilting her head just a little. Kurtis did not reply other than a slight nod of his head, before Katria gestured they continue up the steps. He was about to ask if she needed a hand to climb them, but realised she climbed them well enough without his aid.

As the last step was climbed, Kurtis glanced around him. Firstly at his fellow countrymen beside him, old men and boys stood side by side what few soldiers still remained, and here and there a small black cloaked figure of a young magician. He then looked outwards, beyond the safety the wall gave them. He gasped as he watched hundreds, maybe thousands, he thought, of fur-clad warriors from the mountains. Here and there positioned among them were huge creatures he had never seen before. "There are called Caruc," Katria told him, judging the question he was going to ask. "Capable of smashing through almost anything," she added telling him what they could do. "Even walls?" he asked glancing down at her. She simply nodded, "Yes Kurtis, even walls if allowed to amass together."

Kurtis listened further as the old lady told him what he could see was not all of it. Surrounding the northern part of Pitford were several hundred Bosarian soldiers, "With magicians of their own," she added, saying it in a way that made it the key point of the matter. Kurtis puffed out his cheeks, exhaling, taking along look at the enemy before him, before glancing once more at those left to defend against them. "We do not stand a chance," he said as much to himself as Katria, "We can have no hope of surviving such a force," he added before she placed her small bony hand up onto his cheek.

Kurtis silenced as Katria smiled up at him. Her hand surprisingly warm on his cold skin, "There is always hope Kurtis. Look about you. We have boys who have probably never wielded a sword, let alone fight with one. Yet they stand here, willing to fight and die if needed for what they believe in." Kurtis nodded, noticing a youngster probably no more than thirteen or fourteen years old nervously clutching a spear in his hands.

Kurtis wondered, exactly what it was they believed in that was worth dying for. Once more Katria answered his question without it actually being asked. "They fight for their freedom Kurtis, as will I. Is a life as a prisoner and slave any life at all," she asked looking up in to his young eyes. He knew only too well, what it felt like to be a prisoner, albeit he had been one only a short while. However even in that short time, the loss of freedom, the solitude and restrictions imposed had become almost unbearable.

Kurtis would have been first to admit that when it came to intelligent thought, he was not the smartest guy around. Yet he was no so dumb as to understand the message Katria was getting across to him. These people around him were going to fight, not just for a chance for their own freedom, but for those children in the keep, that mother and babe he had seen on the foyer and even for those not yet affected by the growing conflict. Noticing the penny had dropped, Katria patted his arm, "Today Kurtis you have a chance to redeem yourself. You are probably as power a magician as we have left in Pitford at the moment. Will you stand with us and fight, or do you wish I have you escorted back to your room and await the inevitable?"

Taking a deep breath Kurtis stepped forward, closer to the edge of the wall standing defiantly at the hordes that were lining up ready to attack. Katria smiled, before looking to the east to see if she could see any sign of Ramon and his army returning, but could not. She closed her eyes a moment, sending out a message, a request, to one of her birds. The small creature soared up from somewhere in the keep garden and headed eastward to Denley. The images sent back would likely be the most important she would ever receive; for now she needed to wait and prepare for the inevitable.

In Waltham, capital city of Bosaria, Gorius paced around his desk occasionally drinking from the glass he held half full in his hand. The war with Kothia was hung in the balance, and quite likely, the next twenty-four hours would determine the outcome. His forces pushed ever forward, and were now within a day's ride of the Kothian capital Berxsley, a battle he was sure they could win. Despite that normally being a conquering army's main goal in defeating a country, he knew it was not the case for him. However, the battle that held the most importance was already taking place in the south of Kothia, the outcome of which could see him victorious. Here his forces of soldiers and magicians, aided by their allies from across the mountains, had the chance to eliminate the last enemy forces capable of stopping him.

With plans already in place for taking the other smaller nations that shared his borders, this one single victory would allow them to be put into action. Although he knew he had the greater numbers, he was also painfully aware Kothia had several powerful magicians that could cause him severe problems. The outcome of the battle, and possibly the entire war would depend on whether his superior numbers could overcome them.

Chapter 9.

A series of loud horn blasts sounded from the warriors of the Mountain tribes, which were soon answered by their Bosarian allies gathered to the south of Pitford. This was their predefined signal to let the other know they were in position and ready to begin their attack.

Kurtis stood amongst his compatriots watching on as the tidal wave of warriors and beasts swept down the sloping hillside to their position, picking up the pace as they went. He felt his heart pounding like a hammer in his chest, and wondered if everyone else was as nervous as he felt at that moment. To his left he caught sight of several archers pulling the strings on their bows back, ready to fire as soon as the enemy got within range, and he thought he should probably do likewise. His weapon however, was magical not physical, as he held his palm out just slightly letting an orb of energy manifest within it.

He let the power grow a little larger than he normally would, waiting until the very last moment before firing it. He heard those archers beside him fire and watched as a few of their arrows fell short of the front ranks of the enemy. Rather than pick an individual target he picked an area behind the enemy's front line, and when he thought them close enough, he thrust his arm forward as hard as he could.

Whilst he watched the ball of pure energy fly through the air, he already had the next generating in his other palm. He watched as his strike hit, smashing into an unsuspecting tribesman causing an explosion of raw power. Those around the man were also taken down by the blast, as the smallest of gaps appeared in the enemy ranks. The second and third blasts were sent in a similar fashion, both taking down several men each time. However, he realised continuing in this way would see him depleted of energy in just a few minutes, and he knew he needed to change tactics, or in this case, spells.

As the massive Caruc approached, their wide feet pounding the frozen ground, causing a sound like rumbling thunder that echoed around. However, that sound was nowhere near comparable as the noise that came from the first three beasts crashing into the outer wall. Kurtis thought he could feel the very foundations shake under his feet, as he struggled to remain stood upright. He noticed a few around him being not quite as successful, as they were sent tumbling. He also watched in horror as a young man just ten paces away dropped forward with a long spear protruding from his torso. He felt pained, as things appeared to move in slow motion, the man arching back, clasping pathetically at the long wooden shaft of the spear, before tumbling forward off the wall to the enemy below.

The first hit by the Caruc caused the wall to shake, the next did likewise, and Kurtis knew it would not be long before the first cracks appeared, and that soon after, parts of it would start crumbling away under the constant barrage. He took a deep breath and held both his arms aloft; he was going to try a spell he had only practiced a few times, with limited success. He let the power build, flowing through arms and out through his very finger tips, before pointing them down at the hordes of warriors below him.

Tendrils of raw energy, like streaks of lightening criss-crossing each other, streamed forth, hitting scores of targets in a single blow sending them to their deaths. His focus was disrupted as he felt the wall shaking under his feet once more, and this time he was sent crashing backwards, almost falling off the wall completely. Dazed and shaken, he took a deep breath, before slowly standing as he heard the cries of another beside him fall foul of an arrow. The man's body slumped down right next to him, and Kurtis had no option but to see the last anguished look on his face as his life ebbed away.

On the northern section of the wall, the Bosarian teleporters started by using their tactic of moving heavy infantry to the top of the wall. Within a few minutes dozens of Bosarian soldiers, with heavy shields were forming a barricade, and pushing forward allowing space behind, for more to be transported up to the top. The Kothian archers were shocked to see several volleys of arrows merely deflected aside from them by some kind of magical shield.

A young Kothian magician, probably only just into his teenage years, stood beside a man in his sixties holding a sword and shield. The youngster was forced to step back as a Bosarian infantryman thrust a sword his direction. The older man beside him lifted his shield deflecting the blow, before pushing his own blade forward. The sharp point of the steel pierced the thin armour around the neck causing the Bosarian to fall to his knees, before collapsing forward in a heap. "Thanks," the young magician smiled up to the man beside him.

The magician was not there for show, and although not particularly powerful, did have a few useful tricks of his own. He concentrated on the line of Infantry slowly building just ten paces ahead of him, before waving his hand to the left, sending three men stumbling sideward and causing the man on the end to go tumbling off the top of the wall. Despite this small success, both the young magician and the old man beside him were forced further back, as the number of Bosarians atop the wall grew, each time the enemy teleporters moved from top to bottom carrying another with them.

The ground shook as a section of wall to the south finally came tumbling down, erupting in a cloud of dust. The mountain warriors did not waste time in waiting for it to settle as they immediately started pouring in through the breach. A bugle sounded, and Kurtis felt his arm being pulled from someone stood behind him, "We're retreating to the inner wall," he heard a voice shout. Without further delay, he headed for the stone steps, already full of retreating Kothians, as the wall was struck again causing many to stumble and fall.

Kurtis was caught up in such a tumble, feeling himself knocked sideward he was bumped off the edge of the steps, but luckily for him only falling a few feet to the ground below. Despite the fall only being a short one, it still knocked the air from his lungs, and as he staggered to his feet, he felt his hands stinging. He barely had time to think of the pain as a fur clad warrior rushed his way, a long pointed spear thrust out straight for him. Without giving it any thought, he dived to his right, rolling away as the tribesman was forced to halt his charge. As Kurtis scrambled back to his feet, he managed to fire off a small burst of energy hitting his attacker in the chest. The blow may not have been a killing one, but it was certainly enough to stop the man in his tracks and send him to his knees in agony.

With the bugle sounding over and over, the Kothians scrambled through the streets of houses between the outer and inner walls. The enemy had breached both the south and north sections, and it was only a matter of time before the gates were opened allowing them free access within. Those atop the inner wall fired down at the enemy pursuing those trying to retreat to the next line of safety. Amongst that number was Oran, King of Kothia, who had took up a bow despite being asked not to by his commander. Although a far better swordsman than archer, he still succeeded in scoring at least two hits against the Bosarians on the northern section.

Kurtis reached the gate of the inner wall, and turned to see his fellow countrymen behind still being cut down by the enemy. He puffed out his cheeks, and rather than make his way through, he headed back the way he had just come. Feeling anger like none he had ever felt before, he raised his hands skywards and let the energy flood through his entire body. He concentrated his gaze on an area at the back of his own countrymen making good their escape. He knew he could not help everybody, but at least he could perhaps allow those around him time to get to safety. He felt as if the power in his body was about to consume him as he finally let it release.

Streaks of lightening spewed forth, zigzagging through the air, bouncing from one man to the next. He watched through weary eyes as scores of warriors screamed and yelled as they were struck. He did not know how long he had managed the spell for, but he felt himself being dragged backwards, before everything in the world went black.

As the gates to the inner wall were finally shut, those who had managed to make good their retreat had no option but to once more take up defensive positions, and await the on rushing enemy to strike again. Both the Mountain tribes and Bosarians had succeeded in breaching the wall, using very different methods and tactics. Now both sides were free to roam around the streets at will, although Hadan of the Vardac tribe was conscious about causing too much damage to a prize he wanted to keep. The tribal chief had already agreed with his fellow leaders that he was to get Pitford as part of the gains made from their now certain victory.

Oran turned to Katria, "We cannot hope to hold them for long, you should join the other women and children in the hall," he said, having to speak loudly to be heard. Katria merely smiled at the man, "Sire, I am quite happy to die for the cause. I may not be a great help but I can assist nonetheless," she replied. Oran shrugged, feeling the situation they found themselves in was now almost certainly hopeless. The enemy had barely taken twenty minutes to breach the outer wall, and although that inevitably meant having his troops spread thinly around it, they had been merely brushed aside. At least he thought, the inner wall was much smaller, and the troops he had left would be more concentrated. Perhaps that might help delay the attackers for a while at least.

Hadan rode atop his Caruc, and although his tribe had been the ones to break through the wall, it had come at a great cost. He knew it was now time to allow one of the other tribes to take the brunt of the next attack, and as such, he sounded a horn, telling his own men to regroup. He was glad only a few of his own men had been caught up in the magical strike that had downed hundreds of warriors in one swoop. The forks of lightening may have been wondrous to behold, but not for those caught up in it. He knew he needed to be cautious; the Kothian magicians were obviously far more powerful than Shonna of Bosaria had made them out to be.

Katria closed her eyes for a second, and saw the sight she hoped to see. "Ramon is returning," she said to the man at her side. Oran turned his head to look at her as he pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back. She could see hope returning to the man's face, where just a few moments ago there had been nothing but despair. "Then we must hold them until they get here," he shouted launching another arrow down into the attackers preparing another assault below.

The inner wall may not have been as large as the outer one, but it was certainly in better condition, and far thicker. The first Caruc to go crashing into it barely caused a thud, as the beast's rider was sent flying by a Kothian magician looking down on them. The youth watched, as his magic caused the man in question to land several feet away, before being trampled by another creature advancing alongside.

The Bosarian teleporters were lining up as the Kothian commander, Denny Porter watched on. He had witnessed this very same manoeuvre just a little earlier at the outer wall, and was not about give the enemy the same opportunity again. He called for his group of archers to focus their aim on the group, and watched anxiously as the arrows were fired. He saw at least two of the robed figures hit, and despite it only being a small number, it at least had the desired effect of making the others retreat further back.

He was unsure as to how close they needed to be to reach the top of the wall. From the little experience he had with magicians, he knew a powerful teleporter like those who had rescued King Oran, could leap miles in a blink of an eye. He also knew, that those not so powerful, could barely manage jumps of thirty or forty paces; he prayed these were the latter.

Denny Porter watched that particular group with interest, almost ignoring the more traditional exchange of arrows and crossbow bolts flying from either direction. The teleporters were grouped up with infantry, yet from the gesticulating arms from some of them, they appeared unsure about what they were being ordered to do. He almost ignored the fact that one of the men beside him was taken down by a bolt from an enemy crossbow, as his focus remained on the Bosarian magicians. He watched as a man he assumed to be some sort of commander walked over to where they stood, withdraw his sword and thrust it into the gut of one the robed figures. There was a clear verbal tirade as the enemy commander pointed to the top of the wall, probably Denny thought, an order to carry their duty or risk a similar fate.

The teleporters reluctantly stepped forward, each holding the arm of at least one infantryman, and Denny Porter knew what was coming. He tried to judge from their gaze where abouts on the wall they were targeting, and realised it was probably where he stood. He shouted for his own men to crouch down, and take up a position of shields up and spears held out upwards at an angle. He ducked down as a few of the enemy suddenly appeared atop of the wall aside of his position. As soon as he saw them, he shouted for his own men to lunge forward. The Bosarian soldiers were greeted by a row of spears and a shield wall, and were forced backwards off the wall. The enemy teleporters had time to return for more, but Denny Porter was not going to let up on those either, ordering his archers to keep them under constant fire, forcing them to jump longer distances they were clearly comfortable in doing.