Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (32 page)

“What
is this?” Jager demanded.  The others were silent, eyes nervously darting this
way and that as new tails of smoke appeared, wiggling into the few remaining
spaces of cracked earth. 

“Ready
yourselves,” I said.  One by one, the pillars of smoke slowly congealed into
something more solid, as the fearfully familiar forms of black-armored soldiers
set solid feet on the crumbling ground where the smoke had so recently
emerged.  First there were a few, and then more, and more, and more, like a
deadly wave washing over the plain in a vast, sweeping arc, until thousands
upon thousands stood around us on every side, plates of dark armor glistening
with every subtle movement in the hazy midday sunlight, a shimmering sea of
dark water.  Then came a sound that would have instilled fear in the heart of
the most dauntless warrior: the near-simultaneous unsheathing of thousands of
deadly blades.  I turned to issue a command, but found no words.  Then, from
somewhere amidst those swarming masses, the sound of a battle horn.  The sea
swelled, its tsunami waves inexorably encroaching upon our tiny island of calm,
threatening to engulf it.  Magus’ army was charging.

29

This
was my moment. We were but six in number, but one look at the fantastic beasts
we rode, the pulsating glow of my armor, of my weapons, and I knew - numbers
were not a factor here.  Holding my staff high I shouted, "Follow me!"
and rode out in a scything path that paralleled the ever-narrowing circle of
the enemy's front line. I felt a surge of panic at the sight of that
strangulating ring of death, the closing maw of a vast, undulating black beast,
bristling with row upon row of razor-edged fangs. My response was instinctive;
a primal cry that rang with authority and demanded obeisance, "Back!"
The word shook the foundations of the earth and rebounded off the distant
mountain peaks.  The first few concentric rings of enemy combatants were
blasted outward with an unseen shockwave that lifted them from their feet and
tossed them limply into the bodies and onto the blades of their fellow men. 
The impact created a limited domino effect as the next dozen or more rows were
staggered by the unexpected backlash.  The result, while amusing, was quickly
over as those that remained standing wasted no time clambering over their
fallen friends and resuming the attack. 

My
mount stepped nimbly over the bodies and advanced to meet the new front line,
pausing occasionally to deliver a killing blow with a sharply aimed hoof to the
head of any of the fallen who attempted to rise.  In its wake its thick tail
whipped about viciously, taking down more with each pass.  A glance to the rear
showed me that the other creatures were following a similar pattern, including
the unmanned beast.  As we neared the leading edge of charging soldiers, I
turned my mount sharply, bringing my bladed staff to bear on the dark army. 
Swinging my staff in a sweeping arc, I hoped to intimidate those leading the
charge and quell their advance, if only for a moment.  Instead, a blade of
light extended from my weapon’s edge and sliced deep into the ranks of dark
warriors.  Where it passed, heads were loosed from bodies, weapons cleft in
two, limbs and bodies rent asunder.  In all, fully two hundred men fell in that
single slash.  I eyed my gleaming blade with awe, glanced back at my
companions, and smiled.  Then I turned my attention to the next wave, rushing
no less enthusiastically than their unfortunate peers to meet the tip of my
staff.

Slash! 
Another hundred or so fell.  Slash!  A few dozen more.  Now the beasts had an
easier task finding those that needed finishing.  I lifted my staff high over
my head and brought it down with a chopping motion, its tip coming to rest low
to the ground before me.  Slash!  A road appeared between rows of enemy
soldiers, a path of bodies between dark waves as enemies were tossed to each
side and piled high.  My mount acted quickly, using the path as a runway of
sorts, accelerating to its end and then leaping and soaring, landing in the
midst of a fresh batch of troops.  It landed with such force that its wings flared
suddenly, a halo of real flame scorching outward with the heat of a blast
furnace, roasting scores of Magus’ men.  As the smoke and the shimmering heat
in the air began to clear, I lifted my eyes to survey the battlefield. 

Still
they came.  Gathering courage, I tore into them anew.  Slash!  Another hundred
or two.  Slash!  Slash!  A few hundred more.  When I was able, I turned to see
how my comrades fared.  They were scattered across the battlefield, each
engaged in similar skirmishes, though without the aid of
supernaturally-enhanced weaponry, of course.  Corvus’ beast was particularly
aggressive, as if drawing something of its nature from the disposition of its
rider.  It snapped up men by threes and fours in its powerful jaws, crushing
them until their armor buckled and snapped, their lifeblood dribbling down its
chin and staining its breast.  Meanwhile Corvus dispatched enemies individually
with well-placed thrusts of his sword between the plates of their armor. 
Knox’s mount preferred to charge headlong into groups of soldiers, barreling
them over and leaving them for his rider to finish.  Knox would frequently
dismount, savoring the fairness of a face-to-face battle, until after defeating
a few more foes his creature would nudge him with its vaguely deer-like snout,
urging him to return to his place on its back.  Charr’s did more with its feet,
repeatedly taking to the air and coming down with deadly scissoring kicks. 
Charr seized these moments of elevation to launch volleys of crossbow bolts into
the ranks of enemy combatants.  Kuro’s beast used its wings of flame, spreading
its fiery cloak over a group of men until they were gasping and smoldering,
then moving on to find an as yet unburned spot.  Jager’s mount appeared more
stoic, more deliberate, assaying the field to locate individuals among the
swarming masses who appeared to possess leadership qualities, then soaring in
for a decisive kill, leaving the surrounding men notably disheartened and
confused.  Jager would then cut these stragglers down in their stupor before
they could think to reorganize. 

It
was fascinating to watch, but I couldn’t afford to linger; the dark army came
on, wave after ruthless wave.  Slash!  I cut another swath through the sea. 
Slash!  Slash!  Perhaps three hundred fell.  On and on we fought, and every so
often, when the soldiers would seem about to overwhelm us, I would shout again,
“Back!”  Many would fall, the area would be clear once more, and I would take
up the fight anew.  Slash!  Slash!  Slash!  Thousands lay dead around us.  It
would have felt effortless if it wasn’t so much work.  I was starting to
fatigue from the sheer monotony of it.  Apparently my divine gifts offered no
defense against exhaustion.  I realized my team must be feeling it as well, so
I decided to gain a better perspective on the situation.  Kuro was nearby,
doing battle with a group of enemy soldiers, so I addressed him, shouting over
the noise.  “I’m going up,” I said.  “Can you hold them for a minute?”

“We’ll
find out!” he said.  I directed my mount to ascend, rising with great beats of
its fiery wings in wide circles over the battle below.  The shiny black armor
of so many moving soldiers gave the impression of countless cockroaches
scurrying for cover under the sudden insult of a nocturnal light switch.  But
these insects inspired far greater terror, as they rushed toward the light, not
away.  I rose higher, scanning the distant plain in search of an end, a slice
of untouched sand beyond this sea of chaos, but I searched in vain.  There was
no end, no finitude to the dark and storming masses, no glimmer of hope that
with perseverance we might prevail.  And that was not all.

I
detected a stirring, a different sort of motion within the steady push of the
endless masses.  Here and there, quicker forms wove their way inward through
the thickness of armored bodies, determinedly converging upon a single, central
point: us.  They moved with a swiftness and lightness that left little doubt as
to their identity – assassins.  And farther out, at a distance of perhaps a
mile, larger shapes were moving among the greater swarm.  I wasn’t able to
identify them at first, so I goaded my mount to glide to a position more nearly
over them, and then it was clear.  Not a few, but a hundred or more riders mounted
on armor-cats.  They were not the only representatives of the animal kingdom,
either.  Beyond them, lesser in number but an imposing force just the same,
several dozen puur-deer.  They, like the cats, bore the mechanical
accoutrements and glowing orange lights of Magus’ diabolical control.  They
lurched awkwardly forward, evidence of the mutilation of their natural forms to
accommodate the biomechanical abominations.  And there was something else.

So
focused was I on the movement of troops on the ground that it was some time
before I became aware of a darkening cloud rising in the distance, out of the
ruined city.  An entire fleet of dirigibles, drifting effortlessly over the
battlefield and casting a dark shadow on the troops below.  And from somewhere
in their midst, the angular shapes of powered gliders appeared, assumed a
multi-tiered V-formation, and preceded the balloons toward our position.  I
shook off a growing sensation of numbness and retrieved my dangling jaw in time
to realize that the six of us would not stand long against so great, and so
diverse a force.  We needed help.

Returning
to the ground, I bellowed at the top of my lungs, “Get back!” and an invisible
shockwave blasted the nearest soldiers back with such force that those on the leading
edge were instantly killed, several more rows lifted high into the air and
tossed like ragdolls deep into the ranks of their comrades, leaving a broad
disc of earth untrodden between them and us.  My riders were unaffected, and I
quickly called them to gather at the center of the clearing.  “We need
reinforcements,” I said.  “It’s time to call for Reya and the armies of the
dam.”

“What
do you mean?” asked Jager.  “They couldn’t possibly get here in time to be of
any assistance.  We’ll be overrun.”

“He’s
right,” Kuro echoed.  “We’re scarcely making a dent.  Our only option is to
retreat, and hope the way out of the city isn’t barred.  Then we can regroup
outside the walls, and come up with a different strategy.”

“Your
powers are great,” Charr added, “But there’s just too many.  We can’t take them
all at once.  Maybe if we can funnel them through a natural bottleneck, like a
valley, and take them down a few at a time.”

“No!” 
The unexpected cry came from Corvus.  All eyes turned to him.  “Martyr will
lead us, be it to victory or to death.  It has been written.  Hear his voice!”

I
think we were all a little shocked, but no one offered further counsel, waiting
instead for my next move.

“Gather
the kirin here,” I said.  “Form a circle.”  The response was not immediate. 
“Now!”  I shouted, “There isn’t time to delay!”  This got their attention, and
they soon formed a tight circle.  “No, it needs to be wider,” I said.  The
circle expanded, and I took my place as well, all seven beasts facing
inwardly.  “Now…show me Reya,” I said to my mount.  A sphere materialized in
the center of our circle, and within it could be seen Reya, mounted on a
puurr-deer and fully armed.  Behind her we could see row upon row of her
resistance army, standing at the ready.  No two wore the same armor, and many
had none, but almost all were exceptionally well-armed, thanks to Kuro’s
weapons stockpiles at the dam.  I addressed the image of Reya.  “Reya, are you
ready?”

“She
can’t hear you,” Kuro said, suppressing a chuckle despite the dire nature of
our circumstances.  “Their powers only produce an image.  Sending a verbal
message takes far…”

“We’re
ready!” came Reya’s answer.  Kuro nearly fell from his mount, the others
looking equally amazed.  When he recovered, he did laugh, not in mockery, but
delight, a hearty sound that came from the gut.  For a second, we almost forgot
that Magus’ dark army was rapidly closing in on our cozy circle of wonder. 

I
directed my mount to side-step until I was alongside Knox, creating a small gap
in the circle, then I spoke clearly, “Come through.”  All eyes turned to me,
then slowly back to the sphere.  No one spoke a word.  A moment later, Reya’s 
mount stepped out of the sphere, placing its feet tentatively upon the ground
before us.  Reya smiled warmly and offered a hasty greeting, then passed
outside of our ring and turned to the side, taking stock of the battlefield. 
One after another her men followed, some on deer, most on foot.  They came at
first hesitantly, one at a time, but soon four and five were leaping out of the
sphere at a time, taking up place with Reya outside of the circle. 

As
they continued to pour from the sphere, Reya, veteran warrior that she was,
immediately started issuing commands to her troops, needing no direction from
me.  They fanned out to confront the advancing troops, forming small,
delta-shaped legions flanked by deer-mounted cavalry.  These met the enemy
lines at speed, staggering them and pushing them back several paces before
reaching a sort of equilibrium where blade met enemy blade.  After that, it
began to get a bit messy, but the resistance fighters, still fresh to the
battle, held a decisive advantage.  Reya had prepared them exceedingly well in
the little time they had had, and their tactics were markedly superior to the
“mindless rush” strategy of the enemy. 

As
the last of Reya’s troops emerged, the sphere dissolved, and I quickly rode up
to her position near the front line.  It took me a moment to catch up to her,
as she was continuously racing along the rear guard of her battalion, shouting
orders and modifying their tactics on-the-fly as the situation changed.  When I
reached her, I immediately informed her about the assassins I had seen.  With a
nod she began to address individuals within each of her legions who were
specially skilled to meet this threat, instructing them to identify these
particularly dangerous foes and intercept them before they could reach the rest
of her soldiers.  I watched as these men pulled back slightly from their
current positions and began to scan the field before them.  I saw one of these
men locate an assassin, wait until he was only a few rows away, then signal his
allies, who crouched to form a sort of human ramp.  The man gained a running
start and launched himself from their backs, soaring over the bristling tips of
enemy weapons that jabbed at his passing in vain.  He landed square in front of
the assassin, delivering a jarring blow that halted his advance and staggered
him briefly.  Then ensued a display of exquisite swordsmanship from both
warriors, who seemed about equally matched.  The sea of dark soldiers surged
past them undeterred, too single-minded or too respectful of the assassin’s
skill to interfere.  This basic strategy was followed in the other legions as
well, each time an assassin was identified.  As needed I lent the aid of my
field-leveling slash with more than the usual precision to create a path of
retreat for one of Reya’s warriors who had just defeated one of these deadly
foes.