The Red Sea (35 page)

Dante pressed his lips together. "Too late, by the look of it."

"They came straight to the Peaks. They outnumbered us a hundred times over. We had no choice but to retreat."

"There's no shame in not throwing yourself on the enemy's swords. Winden's gathering your troops as we speak. We'll meet her on the way back."

"It won't be enough." Niles grabbed his elbow. "Your ship's coming in soon, isn't it?"

"A few days. More than enough time to stick our boot up Tauren ass."

"You have to leave. We'll take to the jungle. Cure as many of our people as we can. And sail away."

Dante drew back his head. "You can't possibly be serious. We can fight them, Niles. And we can win."

The older man smiled sadly. "Heart and spirit can't beat raw numbers. You've already done more than I could have asked. With the Star Tree, we have the chance to live on. It just won't be here."

"Run away, if you think that's the best use of your legs. As for us, we'll meet Winden. And we'll make our stand."

"Why?" Niles crinkled the corners of his eyes, mouth a taut line. "This isn't your fight, Dante. It never was."

"You're right," Dante said. "Maybe this entire island deserves to burn down to ashes. Not just for what the Mallish did. The Dresh were slaughtering each other long before the invasion swept them away. That's how they lost the Star Trees in the first place. My people are no different—a thousand years ago, after decades of fighting, we all but obliterated an entire people. The history of humanity is the history of the strong killing the weak. The warlike killing the peaceful. It's probable that every one of us alive today is here because of some atrocity committed by our ancestors. Maybe there
are
no good people left. If there ever were any innocents in this world, I expect the guilty massacred them long ago.

"But despite everything, I'll help you. Because whatever your sins, the Tauren are much worse. They show no signs of an impending change of heart, either. Fighting them is our chance to restore some small piece of good to the world. And to finish my father's work."

Across from him, Niles' eyes were bright. He blinked back tears. Resolve spread across his face. "I don't know if we stand any chance to win. But you're right. We'll fight them. We'll fight to the very end."

"The Broken Valley," Blays said. "That's where we'll ground our spears. We'll fill the ravines with so many of their bodies you'll be able to walk across them."

Niles burst into laughter. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

They turned and headed back the way they'd come in. Now that Niles was into the spirit of the thing, he spoke professionally and analytically, discussing how best to hold the valley and stall the Tauren without exposing their own troops to the danger of being cut off on one of the plateaus.

With the land continuing to dry out, they made good time, camping overnight and reaching the Broken Valley the next morning. There was no sign of Winden yet, but with so little time to spare, they prepared to hold the valley anyway, tearing down the ropes and vines near its southern edge. The work stirred up a number of rodents. Dante dispatched two of them, sending them miles south to watch for the advance of the Tauren.

That afternoon, they moved to the north side of the valley to take it in as a whole. Most of the little plateaus were distributed regularly, but here, there were two clusters large enough to hold scores of men, while being close enough to the north rim to minimize the risk of being cut off during a retreat. If the Tauren were foolish enough to engage them there, the Kandeans might be able to hold them off indefinitely. Niles' men went to work on the platforms, chopping down branches and small trees to build barricades. Dante strung multiple lines of vines between each one, along with others trailing down the sides of the plateaus to allow for a hastier withdrawal.

"I'd like to harass them for every foot of the valley," Niles said. "But it won't be easy. We don't have enough men to hold a line across the entire southern front. The Tauren could climb down whatever part we're not defending, bypassing our skirmishers altogether."

Blays scratched his jaw. "They'll have two options: descend to the floor and hack their way through the growth, or cross from platform to platform. Either way, they'll be slow enough for us to outmaneuver them."

"They will have the numbers, though. We'll have to be very careful not to get flanked."

"We'll hurt them as best we can." Dante gestured to the northern cliffs they were standing on, which were far narrower than the southern approach, no more than five hundred feet across. "But here's where they'll be most vulnerable. Trying to cross from the platforms to the cliffs. They won't be able to bring their troops across fast enough to hold out. We'd slaughter each man as he came over. They'll have to hike up the cliffs, where we can fire down on them all the while. Will they even be able to get up?"

"Look, they'll post their archers on platforms near enough to fire back. We won't be able to shoot at their advance without exposing ourselves." Niles turned in a circle, surveying the area. "I wish we had some high ground to fire down from."

"What, you mean like this?" Dante nicked the back of his arm and plunged a swath of nether into the earth. The dirt swelled, raising five feet high. He shaped it into a rampart ten feet across and twenty feet long.

Niles' men watched, wide-eyed. When Dante stepped back, Niles laughed, smacking himself on the thigh. "How much more of that can you do?"

"That depends on how many days they give us."

"Say they occupy a platform with a hundred archers. Would you be able to topple the whole thing?"

"Only if there were no other nethermancers," Dante said. "If there are, they'll be able to stop me. Besides, if this battle goes like our previous ones, I think I'll be too busy negating their attacks to make many of my own."

During this, Blays had wandered off on his own, inspecting the cliff and the ground around it. He returned, smirking.

"I know that look," Dante said. "About to suggest something fiendish?"

"Barring miracles, we'll have to fall back eventually. So why not make that part of the plan?"

"To do what? Hand them a faster victory?"

"We'll hold them off for a while. But before they've got enough people up here to overwhelm us, we'll retreat. They'll want to seize the rampart at once. Almost certainly before they've got everyone up here. Unfortunately for them, however, they will discover they've advanced into a field of harvested candlefruit."

"Which we'll set on fire," Dante said. "Splitting them off from their reinforcements. We'll massacre them."

Niles brows raised. "That might win the battle on its own. At the very least, they'll have to regroup, giving us time to get out of here."

"And then what?"

"That depends on how fortune rewards us, doesn't it? If we're in good shape, we can press the attack. If that would be too risky, it might be best to retreat all the way to Kandak. It will stretch their supply lines while contracting our own."

Under Niles' direction, Dante expanded the rampart several more feet. Finished, he got a candlefruit from one of the men and grew a thick line of candlefruit shrubs in front of the cliffs. He kept the plants squat, heightening the grass around them to conceal them.

With a few more days and a heavy supply of shaden, he might be able to make the north end of the valley nearly impregnable. Then again, if he fortified it too well, the Tauren might choose to detour around the other side of the Jush Backbone. Dante had to strike a delicate balance between a defense strong enough to give them a chance of winning, but not so obviously strong that the Tauren would bypass them altogether.

That afternoon, a pair of scouts trotted in from the north. Winden was on her way. She had close to two hundred warriors with her. A small reserve remained in Kandak in case the Tauren tried any advance raids. She arrived within an hour. Her people carried an array of spears and bows, along with a handful of swords and pieces of armor.

Winden greeted Niles, then sized up Dante and Blays. "Then there was no engagement at the Peaks?"

"We didn't make it in time," Dante said. "Vordon's army is untouched. We'll have to break him here."

They met with the men, familiarizing them with the points of defense and the general plan. For the most part, the warriors were able-bodied, but few had seen combat. They all had some training, however—the last few months of Tauren raids had been good for that much—and many were capable bow hunters. They spent the rest of the daylight drilling, with special emphasis on quickly climbing across the ropes between plateaus.

As dusk neared, Dante's rodent scouts located the Tauren. They were less than ten miles to the south. And still on the move. He perched a rat beside the path, counting soldiers. Some were spread out through the trees, making a precise count difficult, but he believed two thousand had indeed been an exaggeration.

Fifteen hundred was not far off, however. A full quarter of that with swords and some bits of armor. Vordon walked near the head of their column, face printed with a self-satisfied smile. A few dozen personal guards, commanders, and advisors clouded about him.

"They're on the march," he told the others. "There's no chance they'll be here in time to fight, but their scouts may be in the area. They could be on us tomorrow."

Niles grunted. "They will be. Every day they wait is another day they have to feed themselves. And another day for us prepare."

Dusk fell. The Tauren walked on. He was sure they'd stop when the daylight ended, but they stayed on the march, guided by the trail. Another hour, and they were upon the valley's southern cliffs. There, scores of camp fires sprung up, studding the darkness with shimmering orange light.

Perhaps the fires were meant to intimidate the Kandeans, but Dante appreciated their cheery glow. They announced that the Tauren were finally making camp for the night. He kept one of his rats close enough to Vordon to catch snatches of conversation. Aware that the Kandeans waited across the valley, Vordon sent scouts out on the nearby rocky islands protruding from the ground, harvesting vine ladders to link them to the cliff.

He talked surprisingly little strategy. Either he'd anticipated a battle here and had already discussed it, or he thought his army was so much larger it didn't matter where he fought. By the time Vordon lay down to sleep, all Dante had learned was that the Tauren seemed to be planning to hack their way across the valley floor.

After that, there was nothing to do but watch the firelight flicker.

"He's right over there," Blays said. "Think we should take a run at him?"

"Too dangerous," Dante said. "Even if you shadowalk up to him, he'll be able to feel you. If we die before the battle, the Kandeans are doomed."

"I don't suppose there's much point, is there? Plant him in the dirt, and we'll still have to contend with his fifteen hundred friends."

Since the arrival of the Tauren, Winden and Niles had been speaking with the warriors and dispatching scouts. With this concluded, they joined Dante and Blays in staring across the valley.

"Morning's eight hours away," Winden said. "That means you still have eight hours to run."

Blays laughed first. "I'm afraid you're cursed to be stuck with us. The good news is that the curse might not last another 24 hours."

"I've never seen them in such numbers," Niles said.

"The fires always make an army look bigger," Dante muttered. "They probably camped in plain view intending to give us a poor night's sleep."

Blays stretched his arms. "We'll have to thwart them by turning in early."

He soon made good on that threat. Winden departed a few minutes later.

"I know you don't think much of us," Niles said. "But if we make it through this, you'll be remembered here forever."

Dante rubbed his eyes. "Then I'll try extra hard not to die tomorrow."

They said their goodbyes. Dante slept as best he could, which turned out to be better than expected. There were no alarums from the scouts, and every time he woke up and checked in on his rat, the enemy camp looked at rest.

He got up for good around three in the morning. The Kandeans rose, preparing quickly. Within twenty minutes, they were climbing across the ropes and vines. These were stretched horizontally, meaning the going was much slower than on his first visit to the valley, when they'd used the handlebars to skim from tree to tree. Now, however, they had several different lines, allowing the troops to advance steadily. As dawn neared, they arranged themselves on four platforms just out of bow range of the southern cliffs.

After their long march the previous day, the Tauren were slow to get moving. Sun shined across the rocky islands. With his troops arming themselves, Vordon walked to the edge of the cliffs and stared out at the Kandeans. It was too far to see his expression, but Dante was sure he was smiling.

"Is this all of you?" Vordon called in his Deladi-accented Taurish. "Maybe I don't even need Kandak."

"Feel free to turn around," Dante yelled back.

"I don't think so. I think I will walk straight through you, take your town, and kill anyone stupid enough to have stayed there."

Niles moved to the edge of the platform and jabbed his finger at Vordon. "We'll bury you in this valley. Your loss today will be your final legacy."

Vordon laughed and pulled down his trousers, waggling himself at them. "This will be one of the last things you ever see. Enjoy it!"

He returned to his people, who were lighting fires and cooking food. Completely unhurried. Dante's head throbbed from lack of sleep. They'd eaten a breakfast of cold san paste. At that moment, he would have traded all his other skills for the ability to conjure up a plate of hot bacon.

At nine o'clock, Vordon's commanders moved along the many tents. The warriors rousted themselves. Archers formed up along the bluff. One man fired a single shot, testing range. It fell well short of Dante's platform.

A mass of Tauren moved two hundred yards to the east toward a trail zagging down to the valley floor. Niles yelled to his people. Dante, Winden, and the two lesser Kandean Harvesters sent vines flying between the pillars of land, bridging a path to the east. Warriors climbed along them, supported by loops of rope slung over the vines. Dante queued up, among the first twenty to make the crossing. He grabbed hold of the vine and swung off the ledge, legs dangling.

He reached the next platform, continuing immediately to the next. Directly across from it, Tauren soldiers made their way down the trail. Dante reached out to the dirt and rock within it. Before he could shift a single pebble, a light-haired woman on the top of the cliff splayed out her hand, knocking away his grasp.

He tried again, testing her. Again, she dislodged him. Her attacks didn't feel especially refined. More like she was swinging a mallet around. She was probably drawing on the shaden. Pointless to exhaust himself against that. Besides, even if he were able to kill a few of them on the switchback, ruining it in the process, they'd simply go harvest another way down. He could only watch as the Tauren descended to the valley floor.

There, the Tauren hacked their way forward with machetes, clearing a path. Niles' archers crowded onto the island with Dante, along with the platform beside it.

Blays squinted. "It can't be this easy, can it? They're like cows leading themselves into the slaughtering pen."

With the exception of some tall brush, they'd have a clear shot down on the enemy. Slowed by their work, they'd be easy marks for the archers' arrows. Even as Dante thought this, runners moved along the cliffs, carrying broad, curved shields. These were clearly lightweight, but they had no doubt been harvested for impenetrability. Dante lobbed a bolt of nether at the lead runner. Again, the light-haired woman deflected it.

With the shields delivered to the valley floor, soldiers took them to the front of the path and fanned out to hold them over the machete-carriers' heads. Two minutes later, Niles gave the order to fire.

Forty archers unleashed a volley. The arrows soared through a low arc, striking the shields in a cluster of sharp raps. But there were a pair of screams, too. A shield faltered. The archers nocked a second round. As they drew back their strings, the female sorcerer unleashed a blast of shadows toward the bowmen. Dante sucked in breath, slamming nether into the incoming strike. Black dust exploded from the contact, twinkling into the open air and fading away.

Under steady fire from the archers, the path-cutters veered to their right, working their way around the back of a plateau across from the Kandeans. The woman on the cliffs gestured. Dante saw no result, but he could guess what she was doing: harvesting a ladder up the back of the plateau. His suspicion was confirmed when a line of soldiers jogged down the cliff, followed the trail, and reappeared on the platform. Taking cover in the trees there, they opened fire on the Kandeans, driving Niles' archers back into the cover of the vegetation.

Which allowed the trail-cutters to push forward under minimal fire. A few dropped to the Kandeans' arrows, but the path advanced steadily. The female nethermancer attempted the occasional attack on the archers, but she, like Dante, appeared to be conserving her strength.

A second group of enemy soldiers descended the bluff and made their way up the plateau next to the one they'd already claimed. Now fired on from two angles, the Kandeans were reduced to erratic sniping. Niles called for a withdrawal. The harried archers retreated across the ropes to the platform behind them. Dante was among the last to leave. This process repeated across the Kandean lines until all four groupings had retreated.

The Tauren's strategy was sound. Rather than advancing more quickly across the platforms, where a mistake or a Kandean gambit might cripple their entire army, they were taking the safe route through the ravines. It would be slow going, and they'd concede a trickle of casualties for the lengthy duration of the advance. But they had more than enough troops to sustain those losses.

And it granted them zero risk of an unfavorable outcome. Soon enough, they'd cross the valley. And there would be nothing left to stand between them and the Kandeans.

Blays found his way next to Dante. "This is less like a battle and more like a life-sized game of Nulladoon. The only thing missing is the mad king ordering us around. Unless that's you."

"You know how these things go."

"Do I? Because I don't remember ever swinging from platform to platform, outnumbered ten to one, while all the other guys are doing the work."

"We're feeling each other out. I doubt there'll be a major engagement before the north cliffs. If there is, then either they've made a major mistake, or we have."

Over the next several minutes, the Tauren pushed them back another row of islands, and then a third. Only half the Tauren were actively engaged in the assault. The other half, including Vordon and most of his court, remained on the southern cliffs, which were now several hundred yards away. The only sorcerer on the front lines was the light-haired woman.

"Good news." Dante smiled. "They've made a mistake."

The Tauren were presently occupying three adjacent plateaus and the two behind those, overlooking and defending the advance of their soldiers through the thickets below. The enemy nethermancer was on the frontmost central platform. Across from her, Dante flung shadows at the archers sharing her position. She clubbed aside each strike, as aggressive as always. Drawing on one of his shaden, Dante sent a second salvo at the archers. While the light-haired woman contended with these, he moved into the tree above her. Branches stabbed down at her head and shoulders. She shouted a curse, sending the nether into them, bending them aside.

Giving Dante the opportunity to split the earth she stood upon.

With an ear-piercing crack, the rim of the plateau cleaved beneath her. She turned, jumping toward solid ground, but Dante rooted her feet in place, sticking her to the falling rock. The woman's scream punched through the clatter of stones. The shorn-off rim slammed into the ravine below, rattling the ground beneath Dante's feet. A hemisphere of dust erupted from the impact.

And with no friendly nethermancers within range, the archers were now painfully acquainted with Dante's wrath.

Shadows whipped across the divide, felling one Tauren soldier after another. They broke from cover, rushing for the ropes at the rear of the platform. Dante homed in on a knot of five men, picking them off one by one. After he'd slain the first four of them, the lone survivor swerved to the edge of the rocky island and leaped out into open space.

In less than a minute, he'd killed some thirty men, draining one shell and starting in on another in the process. A contingent of replacements was scurrying along the ropes from the southern cliffs. As when he'd lifted the land bridge to Spearpoint, the quick use of the shaden left Dante's nerves feeling frayed, implying he couldn't keep it up all day.

Still, with no one close enough to resist him, he went after the archers on the plateau next to the one he'd destroyed, slaying just enough of them to flush them from cover, exposing them to Kandean fire. Together, he and the warriors shredded their way through another thirty of the enemy before the first black bolts raced to intercept his.

Vordon had arrived, his helm gleaming in the afternoon sun. Backed by two men and a woman—nethermancers, certainly—he stomped to the edge of the outcrop, pointing at Dante.

"You think you're so strong?" he bellowed. "My men fight clean, and you kill them like ants?"

Dante moved from behind a tree, keeping the nether at hand. "For years, you've used your armies to squeeze the life out of these people. But you've never faced someone like me. As long as you hide in the rear, your people will die."

Vordon clenched his hands into fists. He drew a knife and slashed it across the skin of his bare stomach, feeding his blood to the nether. He lashed across the gap, hammering Dante with a barrage of blows, any one of which would have torn his flesh to the bone. Dante drew hard on his second shaden, barely keeping up his defense.

"Don't just stand there!" Blays yelled at the warriors. "
Shoot
him!"

The awestruck archers nocked arrows, firing on Vordon. He danced back, harvesting a wall of shrubs in front of him.

His three nethermancers dispersed across the nearby platforms, attacking any archer who rose to take aim. Dante was so busy battling them off he had no time to strike back. Winden assisted him, along with her two Harvesters, but they were modestly talented. In rapid succession, the Kandeans were forced back three rows of plateaus, struggling to regroup. With each retreat, Vordon and his sorcerers hurried along the ropes to the newly-vacated platforms, pressing the attack.

Throughout this, Blays kept busy giving orders to one of the divisions of archers. During a lull, he crossed over to Dante's platform, sweaty and dirt-streaked.

"Well," he said, "if your mission was to make Vordon fall in hate-love with you, you've succeeded wildly. Which has given me an idea."

Dante kept both eyes out for any sign of incoming shadows. "Which is?"

"Next time we retreat, I take a stroll into the nether. And stay right here. Until Vordon delivers himself to me."

"Which will leave you surrounded by Tauren soldiers. And probably at least one other nethermancer."

"I'll be cutting his throat, not making him dinner. I'll be invisible again within two seconds."

"Unless one of their sorcerers shoves you out of the shadows. Like the Minister did back in Spiren."

Blays waved a hand. "Then I guess you'll just have to keep the others off of me."