The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (129 page)

“There are no Ancestors,”
shouted the Khargan into the dust. “You seek to invade our land and subdue the
Chanyu!
We are a free people! We will not be subdued!”

The Ten Thousand roared
approval.

The dust began to settle and
they could see a wall of soldiers, lower than those on horseback.

Another cat urged his horse
forward. It was a small horse and a strange cat. The Bear had never seen a grey
cat before and he wondered if it was Magic as well.

“There are Ancestors!” the cat
shouted and again, the Oracle of Karan Uurt translated. “I have been in the
West. They have weapons that make our swords look like spoons for sipping
broth!

“Lies from the mouth of a cat!”

It was an army of cats and
monkeys, banners and armour. But something was missing, something was wrong.

“I am Kaidan, Ambassador of
Pol’Lhasa,”
called the grey cat and this time, he was translated by the yellow. “I am here
with Bo Fujihara of the Gate of Five Hands. We wish to discuss peace and mutual
defense against the Ancestors. If you say no, then we will go in peace but be
warned, the Ancestors will subdue us all unless we unite.”

The Bear narrowed his eyes
again.

“There are no horses,” he
growled and he looked at Long-Swift. “Where are their horses?”

The Irh-Khan shook his head.

“Where are your horses!” the
Khargan shouted over the thudding of his blood.

“Proof of our intentions,”
called the lion. “We come as men, to men.”

“Where are their horses?” he
growled. “This is a ruse.”

“They speak of the Star of Five
Tails,” said the Irh-Khan. “You sent the 112
^th
Legion last summer.
Perhaps we should hear them?”

“The Star of Five Tails…”

The Bear swung on him.

“You,”
he snarled.

“Lord—”

“You have already made a pact
with them!”

“I have spoken with them. They
are not here for war.”

“I knew I could not trust you.
The Eyes were right.”

“The Eyes have turned your mind,
Bear! They—”

“Lord!”
he barked. “I am
your Lord…”

He raised
ala Asalan
as
Long-Swift, a friend since his youth, raised his own in defense. It was
useless. No amount of hammered steel or canine bone could stand against
ala
Asalan
and he swung, hearing the clank of iron as the Irh-Khan staggered
back, dropping to one knee.

“The Fall of Ulaan Baator at
the steel of Ulaan Baator!”
cried a voice but he could hear nothing over
the rush of his own blood.

In the other hand, he began to
spin the
kushagamak.

“I will cut off your legs and
drag you behind the Oracle until you are nothing more than a tattered pelt on
the plain.”

“The Fall of Ulaan Baator,”
cried
the voice again.
“At the steel of Ulaan Baator!”

It was the girl, shouting from
the back of her horse, the cat’s yellow hands against her temples. The Bear
turned to one of his betas.

“Shoot her,” he snarled.

Like a snapping string, an arrow
was loosed, the whistle piercing all hearts and he watched it rush in on her
pretty face, her one blue eye that announced her as Oracle, waited for the
crunch and snap of her skull but there was a swoop of wings and an owl snatched
it out of the sky.

He snarled again, kicked out his
boot and Long-Swift hit the earth, rolled down the side of the mound and the
Khargan followed, the deadly
kushagamak
hook swinging at the end of its
chain. He put his boot onto to Irh-Khan’s shoulder, pushing him down to the
ground.

“Will you hear us?” cried the
grey cat. “Let it not be said that the Khan of Khans was not a man of reason!”

The yellow cat translated and
the Khargan growled again.

“Shoot those on horseback. The
owl can’t catch five arrows at once.”

The shriek of nightmares as
arrows went up into the sky, hurtling toward the riders but before they reached
their marks, they struck an invisible wall and shattered into a rain of
splinters and tips.

The Khargan snarled.

“Magic,” said the Irh-Khan from
his place on the ground. “We must listen. We must find a way.”

“Your death will be my glory.”

“There are Ancestors,” shouted
the grey cat once again. “And so we must unite. We must form an Alliance with
all the Kingdoms. The Kingdom of the Cats, the Kingdom of the Monkeys, the
Kingdom of the Dogs and the Kingdom of the Horses. If you don’t believe me,
perhaps you might wish to ask the horses…”

A ripple went through the Ten
Thousand of the Khan. It turned quickly into a roar as all attention was
diverted to the flanks. The Khan growled as he finally saw the reason for the
plains of dust.

Far to the east and far to the
west of the Ten Thousand of the Khan, flanking them on both sides were horses,
rider-less horses. Seven thousand fearless warriors in the Army of Blood.

***

Fallon Waterford-Grey swallowed,
took a deep cleansing breath as she moved her half of seven thousand horses
into position.

“Well,” she said to the baby on
her back. “It
was
my idea, after all. And boy oh boy, do I have big
ideas.”

The baby blinked his bicoloured
eyes but he was bundled tightly in a sling and had no means to move.

She studied the Ten Thousand
from her position on the south flank. A good quarter turned where they stood,
brought their weapons to bear on the new armies east and west. Perhaps five
hundred abreast, perhaps twenty rows. Yep, ten thousand dogs on foot, at least
half with the whistling arrows of death. She shuddered, remembering that sound.
It would stay with her now for the rest of her life.

She cast her emerald eyes over
her equine army. Ten riders per flank, two flanks with thirty-five hundred
horses each. Each a formidable army in itself. The horses snorted and stomped,
shook their heads to the jingling of metal and snapping of leather. They would
charge in a heartbeat, they would trample the dogs into sand.

The dogs didn’t stand a chance,
even with the whistling arrows.

She ran her hand along the
horse’s painted neck, hopeful it wouldn’t come to that. She’d lost far too many
horses over the last two years. She was beginning to get a reputation.

She took a deep breath and
looked back at the Stones.

***

The rock was weeping. The
strange rock was whispering a warning and Kerris rolled forward as the rock
came down where his head had been.

A shadow twice his size fell
across him and he looked up. It had no pelt and its leathery skin swung like
canvas, like black canvas sails across its massive frame. There were tufts
around its face and a thin strip of metal around its neck and it rose above
him, bellowing in the guttural language of the Gowrain at the miss.

It looked like a bear, a
leathery, hairless bear. Kerris thought it was almost the most fearsome thing
he had ever seen.

“Can you speak?” he asked,
bouncing up onto the balls of his feet. “I’m sure you can. You just need to
try…”

The leathery arm swung and
the grey lion ducked back, noticing the hand and the lethal claws at the end of
each finger. He marveled at them, so thick and curved and dagger-like and once
again, he called for the sword. He could feel it trying, could feel the metal
all around it, cursed the metal and the earth and the lack of sky.

The bear swung again and
again he ducked, but the animal charged and it was unexpected and the two of
them crashed backwards onto the rocks. Kerris kicked up with his feet and he
raked the creature’s chest and belly with his pedal claws. It roared and hammered
its leathery elbow down onto the grey chest. Stars popped behind Kerris’ eyes
and he struggled to draw breath. He could have sworn he heard cheering but it
could have been the stars.

He heard the rock whisper
once again, reached out his hand and suddenly, it was there. He swung it into
the leathery head, once, twice, three times before the bear rolled away and
Kerris scrambled to his feet, one hand on his ribs, the other gripping the
rock. He shook his head, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed from his chest.
Something was bad, something was broken but honestly, all he could hear was
cheering. He was hearing cheering and he looked around at the false tree line,
the unnatural sky. It made no sense.

Slowly, the bear rose to his
feet and studied him, the skin sliced along his chest and belly, dripping blood
onto the ground. Kerris dropped the rock, held one hand out in front of him to
pacify and calm. His head was spinning and he could taste blood on his tongue.

“Peace, brother,” he panted
in Imperial, then in Hanyin. He didn’t know Gowrain. Didn’t think most Gowrain
knew Gowrain, but little was known of their culture in the Upper Kingdom. And,
being a world away, this creature likely would not speak it anyway. It made no
sense.

The bear opened its mouth,
raised its upper lip as if trying to speak. It swung its head back and forth,
back and forth and dropped its arms to pound the rocky ground.

Kerris shook his head.

“I don’t know what you want,”
he said. “But we don’t have to fight. That’s really not a good idea…”

It stared at him a long
moment and Kerris thought its eyes were rather sad. It swung its head again,
looking over its shoulder before looking back at him. And then it did a rather
strange thing.

It sighed.

It was as if all the air left
its body when it did so, but it sighed, the sound of thunder and earthstorms
and a lifetime of sadness.

Kerris sheathed his claws,
dropped his arms to his side, took a long deep breath but winced again as the
pain stabbed up from his ribs. There was a new smell now, a yellow one running
along the clouds and suddenly, a light began to flash red and the sky split
with the sound of shrieking metal. He clapped his hands over his ears while
jolts from the metal at his throat threatened to send him to his knees. The
bear bellowed at the sky, pounded the ground once again. The yellow eased up so
Kerris could breathe and suddenly, it all made sense.

“No!” he shouted to the walls
of trees and sky. “We will not—”

Yellow again, turning white
with waves of heat from the metal at his throat.

It was over in moments, and
he stood with hands on knees, panting for breath.

Lightning,
the yellow
whispered in his mind.
I am your lightning. Call me.

“We will not fight,” he
gasped and he raised his eyes to the bear, could see the creature swinging its
head, mouth open as if wailing but in silence. With all his senses, he could
feel the yellow buzz from the bear’s collar and this time when it turned back
to him, there was no sadness, only fury.

And Kerris understood the
weeping of the rocks.

***

They could hear the whistling
arrows and Sireth prayed the Shield would hold. There were only two of them
gifted and the Alchemist’s eyes were as black as the night. He did not know how
much longer she would stand against the Oracle’s attacks or how he would stand
if she fell.

Arrows shattered and dropped
away, heads and shafts and splintered wood raining down on them as they
thundered past. The wall of dogs was growing larger as they neared—
spears, swords and deadly halah’bards raised to impale. He glanced over at his
wife riding without reins, saw the fierce light in her eyes, her dual swords
clutched in each hand. She was a warrior, glorious in battle and his heart
swelled at the sight.

Naranbataar dropped to his
knees, skidding along the rocky ground and he released arrow after arrow as he
slid. The foremost dogs fell, their weapons hitting the ground and the horses
leapt into the heart of the Legion.

***

“This is a bad idea,” mumbled
Kerris to the monkey at his side.

“Does your wife
have
bad
ideas?” asked Bo.

“The Khan is proud and
short-sighted,” said Kerris. “He won’t back down from a challenge like this.”

“If it is war he wants,” growled
Kirin. “We can give him one.”

“You have the heart of a
diplomat, brother.”

Kirin grunted, glanced over at
the Oracle, at Yahn Nevye sitting behind her in the saddle. The man looked
strained, his odd white eyes unfocused and he recognized the look from years of
riding with Sireth benAramis.

“They’ve made a Shield,” he
said. “benAramis and the others. They’ve engaged the Necromancer.”

“You will be fine,” said Kirin.
“You are stronger than you think.”

“I can feel his teeth closing
in. I don’t know how to fight him.”

“Can you make the Shield for us
again?”

The man released a long breath,
and then another.

“For as long as I can, I will,”
he said quietly. “Blue Wolf.”

“Yellow Cat,” answered the
Oracle.

“If they can’t make the Shield,”
said Bo. “Then I would rather die by an arrow than face one of their swords.”

“I would rather not die at all,”
muttered Kerris.

“You pulled the sticks?”

“Five.”

“Ah, well. Life is like the dew
of morning.”

“Frozen?” asked Kerris but he
grinned.

Kirin turned his eyes back to
the dogs, ten thousand soldiers on the Field of One Hundred Stones.

***

ala Asalan
in one hand,
the swinging
kushagamak
in the other and one boot on the back of his
Irh-Khan, the Bear was a fearsome sight.