When the Heavens Fall (5 page)

Or so he had believed.

Why had they reawakened
now,
though? This was hardly the first time he'd seen the forest since that day. Could they sense the presence of their kin to the south? Did they taunt him with the recollection of his suffering at their hands? Ebon shifted in his saddle. So many things were taken from him by the spirits, yet the memories of his ordeal remained. His hands trembled. He clasped the pommel of his saddle to steady them, but the shaking only became stronger. The voices were growing louder, and Ebon imagined he heard a note of scorn in them. His anger slipped its leash.
Shroud take you, spirits! Maybe I was a fool to think you were gone. Maybe I will never truly be rid of you. But for as long as you remain, our fates are tied. When the end comes, I'll drag you down with me!

Vale drew up his horse alongside. The Endorian's face was streaked with grime, and his thinning gray hair was plastered to his skull. Taking in the size of the Kinevar raiding party, he hawked and spat. “There's too many of them.”

Ebon did not respond. Unstrapping his shield from his back, he transferred it to his left arm.

Vale looked at him. “You still mean to go through with this.” It was not a question.

“What choice do we have? We cannot let the Kinevars' attack go unanswered.”

“Figures. You've always got to have the last word.”

Ebon gave a half smile. “Can you see any of the prisoners?”

“Not from here. Probably dead by now anyhow.”

In other words you think we are wasting our time.
“Enough, Vale. My mind is made up.”

The Endorian grunted. “Do we circle round and cut them off from the forest?”

Ebon shook his head. “We do not know what is hiding in there. We could be attacked from the trees.”

“You'll leave the Kinevar an easy way out.”

“That's the idea. If we hit them hard they may abandon the captives and make a run for it.”

“If our side don't break first.”

Ebon stared at him for a moment, then looked over his shoulder. The village's guardsmen had formed up behind and were now watching him with tight expressions, their horses prancing nervously as if sensing their riders' tension. Ebon scanned the squad until he found its commander, a sallow-faced man loading a crossbow. The figure of a scorpion was etched into the left cheek-piece of the helmet perched at an angle atop his head. As his gaze met Ebon's, he nodded.

The prince turned back to Vale. “They will do their duty.”

“You know their sergeant?”

“Seffes, he is called. He used to be a Pantheon Guardsman.”

“Used to be.”

Ignoring the comment, Ebon dropped back to give instructions to the soldiers, then rejoined Vale at the head of the squad.

The Endorian unsheathed his sword. “Let me take point. I'll draw their fire. No need for you to risk yourself.”

“I will race you for the honor,” the prince replied, digging his heels into his horse's flanks.

The gelding leapt forward gamely. Ebon held it back during the descent from the hilltop, then gave it its head as the land leveled out. The plains had been baked hard by the summer sun to leave the mud riddled with potholes, any one of which could snag a hoof and bring the gelding down. Ebon, though, did not slow its flight. As he closed the distance on the Kinevar back markers, the smell of rot became stronger. The raiders hadn't given any sign they were aware of their pursuers, but it was only a matter of time before they heard the rumble of the horses' hooves. Yet Ebon was still glad for the noise if it meant a respite from the spirits' whispering.

Even as the thought came to him, one of the Kinevar looked back and let out a shrill cry.

The prince could now make out the Galitian captives—a knot of lighter-skinned figures roped together near the middle of the Kinevar column. The enemy nearest the prisoners started milling around, and for a heartbeat Ebon hoped the raiders would abandon the captives and flee for the forest. Then a voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. A score of the raiders separated from their kinsmen and turned to face Ebon. The rest of the party resumed their flight to the woods.

Ebon smiled without humor. That made his job easier. First rule of military engagements: never split your forces. Just because the stationary Kinevar wanted a fight didn't mean he had to oblige them. He raised a hand to signal the troop to ride round and continue the pursuit of the main group.

Then his gaze came to rest on the man who had taken command of the smaller force. A handspan taller than his companions, he carried a staff and was chanting in a deep voice. He thrust his arms into the air as if he were beseeching some immortal for aid. His face was painted with symbols that flashed silver as the sun caught them.

Ebon cursed.
An earth-mage.

There was no sorcerer in Seffes's troop who might counter the Kinevar's magic, but they still had a chance if they could get to him quickly. The warriors surrounding him had no shields with which to form a shield wall, and there were too few of them to withstand the squad's charge.

Suddenly the mage whirled his staff above his head and brought it down to strike the ground.

The earth trembled.

Ebon's horse stumbled, and he pitched forward in his saddle. He threw his right arm round the gelding's neck and hung on. “Steady!” he shouted as the animal struggled to regain its footing.

The lead elements of Seffes's squad thundered past, throwing up a cloud of dust.

As the earth tremors began to subside, the ground in front of the Kinevar mage bulged and split. A vast head burst from the earth, followed by two arms as thick as tree trunks. Ebon's hands went slack on the reins. The elemental clawed its way out of the ground like a corpse escaping from the grave and gave a gravelly roar. The wind tugged loose dust from its sides, making its form appear hazy round the edges. One of the Galitian riders ahead of Ebon hurled a spear into the creature's chest. The elemental ignored it. It surged to attack the thrower, battering him with an enormous fist. The soldier raised his shield to take the blow, but the metal crumpled like parchment. Man and horse were crushed into the ground with a tortured cry.

“Not the elemental!” Ebon called. “Take out the mage! The mage!”

But his words were drowned beneath another despairing yell as a second man went down.

The prince drew his saber. Somewhere Vale was shouting at him to ride clear, but Ebon ignored him. Wrestling with his horse's reins, he coaxed the gelding into the elemental's shadow. The creature loomed above him, its arm swinging down like Shroud's scythe. Ebon's saber flashed to meet it, intercepting the strike and severing the limb between elbow and fist. It fell to the ground in a spray of dust. Then Ebon was past, the elemental's bellow of rage ringing in his ears.

The Kinevar were waiting a short distance beyond, bonewood swords and spears in their hands. Scalps hung from their belts, and about their necks were necklaces of blackened human ears. They were drawn up in a ring with their commander at its center, and around the mage buzzed a cloud of flies. The ground swarmed with more insects, an endlessly moving mass that rippled like black water.

A spear flashed toward Ebon's head, and he raised his shield. The missile struck with a clatter and fell away. The next spear, though, was onto him before he could react, and it buried itself in his horse's neck. Ebon felt the force of it through his thighs. The gelding screamed, half rearing as it snapped its jaws at the spear shaft. Then its front legs gave way, and the prince flung himself from the saddle.

He took the brunt of the landing on his shield, the impact sending a jolt up his left arm. The ground here was shin-deep in insects, biting and rustling and scuttling. As he rolled to his feet, bugs tumbled from his shirt. No time to put his thrashing horse out of its misery. A glance behind revealed the elemental had stopped the squad's charge and was in among them. Its severed arm had re-formed, and the creature was flailing around in a berserk frenzy, punching riders from their saddles. For a heartbeat Ebon considered going to their aid, then he remembered his own advice.

The mage. The mage was the key.

He could see the man more clearly now. Insects crawled over his bare arms and torso like a second skin, and the power radiating from his staff made the air about him shimmer. A handful of Seffes's squad had fought in close and were hacking down at the fighters circling him. Then the sorcerer opened his mouth and a cloud of wasps spewed out to engulf a Galitian horse and rider. The man shrieked, his horse bolting. For a moment the pressure on the Kinevar warriors eased, but they made no move to advance, seemingly content to defend and watch while the elemental wreaked its havoc.

Time for me to create some of my own.

Insects crunched beneath Ebon's feet as he waded forward. One of the Kinevar moved to intercept him, hissing between black teeth. Its skin looked like tree bark, and its bonewood sword glistened as it swung for Ebon's chest. The prince parried once, twice, then ducked under a head-high cut and kicked his attacker's legs out from under him. The Kinevar went down, tripping another assailant behind. Ebon's saber darted out, quick as a striking wither snake, and both raiders died.

Their bodies sank beneath the heaving swell of insects.

A Kinevar female jabbed at Ebon's face with her spear. He raised his shield at the last instant but could only deflect the weapon's point, and it traced a line of fire across his left temple. Blocking another thrust with his shield, he hacked his attacker's spear shaft in two with his saber. As the Kinevar reached for a knife at her hip, Ebon stepped in close and ran her through, then spun in time to parry a lunge from a second assailant. The saber danced in his hand, feinting high before striking low as another enemy fell.

Seffes's squad was now pressing in all about in a melee of dust and blood. The thunderous steps of the elemental were close behind Ebon, but he dared not look round. Vale was to his right, also on foot, attacking in a blur of motion too fast for the eye to follow. Ebon was damned if he'd let his friend have the kill. As the Kinevar mage turned toward the Endorian, the prince saw his chance. He thrust his shield into the chest of a defender, sending him staggering backward. A gap opened in the Kinevar ranks, and Ebon burst through.

A swarm of flies enveloped him, so thick the world disappeared behind a buzzing black curtain. Better flies than wasps, though. A wave of Ebon's shield scattered the swarm enough for him to make out the mage beyond. The Kinevar was facing away from him, chanting as he unleashed a shaft of crackling sorcery at an unseen target.
Not Vale. Please, not Vale.

Ebon shouted a challenge.

The mage swung to confront him.

Ebon's saber flashed out, and the Kinevar lifted his staff to block. The blade should have cut a good chunk out of the wood, but instead when the weapons clashed there was a shower of sparks and the prince's saber shattered midway along its length.

A heartbeat passed as he stared disbelieving at the broken blade.

The mage counterattacked. Ebon tried to angle his shield so the Kinevar's weapon would glance off it, but the crunching contact still drove him to his knees. The staff punched a hole through wood and steel, only to trap itself in the mangled slivers of metal. A sharp twist of the prince's wrist wrenched the weapon from the mage's hand. Ebon surged to his feet. The Kinevar tried to back away but found his retreat checked by the ring of his defenders. Trapped by the very warriors meant to protect him.

A backhand cut with the stub of Ebon's saber opened his throat in a spray of blood.

There was a roar of frustration behind, and the prince turned to see the elemental a dozen paces away, a snarl frozen on its face. As it advanced a final faltering step, its left leg crumbled to dust. Then its entire body collapsed, raining dirt down on the combatants.

The fight went out of the remaining Kinevar, and they were quickly dispatched.

Breathing heavily, Ebon shuffled through the mass of insects until he reached clear ground. He shook loose the bugs in his hair and clothing, but he could feel more moving beneath his shirt, and he tore it off and flung it away. His skin was swollen with bites, and burned as if flames played across it. A tic-beetle had burrowed into his right wrist. Swearing, he used his broken saber to dig the insect out.

The body of his gelding lay a pace away. Flies had settled around the horse's eyes, and the prince bent down to close them. Blood was running down his cheek. Raising a hand to the cut at his temple, he found a flap of skin hanging loose. He pushed it back into place and held it there. His fingers came back sticky red. He saw again the Kinevar's spear coming at his face, his shield rising to intercept it. A moment later with his block and the thrust would have taken him through the eye. The years of seclusion that followed his spirit-possession had left him weak and slow.
It is time I put that right.

Ebon searched the distant line of trees to see the main Kinevar party disappear into the forest. There was movement both north and south of the point where the group entered, and the prince kept his gaze on the shadows between the trunks in case the creatures returned. Screams started up as the Kinevar began avenging their mage on the Galitian prisoners. In Ebon's mind, the sound was echoed by the spirits.
The sound of my failure.

Vale moved alongside. The Endorian had emerged from the battle with no more than insect bites and a shallow cut to his neck. “Tell me we ain't going in after them.”

Ebon shook his head. “We have done all we can.”

“Sense at last,” the Endorian said, turning to leave. When Ebon made no move to follow he added, “You done admiring the view?”

A single Kinevar warrior stepped from the forest. He hopped from one foot to another, gesturing at Ebon with his spear. “It seems daylight no longer holds any fear for these creatures,” the prince said. “The villages bordering the forest will have to be evacuated.”