The battle continued to rage, but for the moment it raged around the congegration of Sorcerers on the wall.
Tarrin had sent the three Sorcerers in Keritanima's Circle back with her, getting Dar off the battlefield and quelching Ahiriya's objections by threatening to do something very unpleasant to her if she disobeyed him. Szath and Azakar formed the core of the guard escorting Keritanima off the field, and when they were safely on their way, Tarrin and Jenna turned their attentions to the wave upon wave of enemies that assaulted the gaping hole in the city walls. Though Tarrin's body was still back at the Tower, he had formed a direct strand that ran straight from the main Conduit right to his projection, meaning that he could weave spells with very little extra effort involved. That meant that he could bring very nearly his full power to bear against their attackers. With only a look passed between them, Tarrin raised his projection into the sky, a sky still being fought for control over by the Aeradalla and the Harpies. He rose up over the battle, seeing the assembled allied races defending Suld struggling against the Goblinoids. The Fae-da'Kii and the undead had been destroyed, and all the humans were being held out of the battle, though Jenna's Elemental still sought to chase them down. The breach was being contained by the Ungardt, Arakites, Selani, and the Centaurs, with the Arakites and Ungardt forming a solid wall against which the Goblinoids threw themselves, as the Selani and Centaurs picked off those that managed to squeeze between burning buildings and try to escape the phalanx blocking their path. Tarrin looked down at them and felt a sudden burst of indescribable pride, to know that he was a part of something so great, so grand, so far-reaching in its depth. To be a part of a joining of human and non-human, friends and enemies, all uniting to stand for a common goal. Tarrin had defended the icon. Now, he knew, came the grim task of killing the army assaulting his city.
Paws wide, the concave star of the Goddess formed around his projection, even as it formed around his body inside the Tower, floating within the Conduit inside the heart of the Tower, inside the very room in which Jegojah tried to kill him so long ago. Tarrin opened himself to the Weave, allowed it to fill him to his capacity, so much that his teeth actually began to throb, that his eyesight shivered with every beat of his heart. He reached his pinnacle, and then bent about the task of repelling the invaders.
His first attack was as grisly as it was devastating. Forming a solid mass of Air, he slammed it down onto the largest concentration of Goblinoids he could see, who were bottled up on the grand avenue leading from the east gate and into the city, held back by the Arakites and the Ungardt. It struck like a mountain, crushing the Trolls, Waern, Bruga, and Dargu that were pressing the defenders' lines. The mass of Air was perfectly shaped to kill every Goblinoid in the street, yet did not so much as shiver the hair of the Ungardt and Arakites holding the line, nor did it collapse a single building. Goblinoid bodies were suddenly squashed under that invisible mass, reduced to gory red stains and blots on the flattened ground, their weapons and armor pulverized by the blow. The very few that had survived that attack, who were literally tied up in the lines of his people, were quickly cut down by the defenders. To their credit, they only gawked a moment before a quick-minded lieutenant commanding the Arakites barked a series of orders that caused them to reform into a moving formation, then began advancing back towards the wall step by step. Tarrin looked up, and then sent a multitude of tiny darts of magical power away from him, streaming glowing smoke as they streaked away, and they sought out and brought down every Harpy within a longspan of his projection. They streaked up into the sky and unerringly found Harpies, attacking those closest first, but each remaining one losing its bead on a Harpy once it was dead, only to turn in its flight and go after another. Tarrin recharged and released the spell again and again, sending out more than enough of the magical missles to find and kill virtually all the Harpies in the sky. Once that was done, he knew that the Aeradalla would stop fighting the Harpies and start shooting any enemy that moved on the ground below, adding to their confusion and terror.
Tarrin wasn't the only one to use powerful magic. Jenna had gotten up on the wall, and she was weaving a spell of her own, one so large and complicated that it took her nearly three minutes to finish it. When she was done, she raised her hands up towards the sky and released it, a sky which suddenly began to spin up clouds from nothingness. Jenna was manipulating the weather, the most powerful thing a Sorcerer could accomplish, and as the battle continued to rage, a dark, black, seething mass of clouds formed over the city. The sky grew darker and darker, incredibly dark, and rumbles of thunder began to run through the clouds above. When it was primed and ready, Jenna brought down her hands in a snapping motion, and an absolute avalanche of lightning, so much that it turned the sky bright, blinding white, lashed out from the clouds and came down into the human reserves still stationed across the fallow fields from the city wall. The lightning blasted through their ranks, exploding when it hit the ground, electrocuting the metal-clad men lined up in their neat rows-at least where the Elemental had yet to reach, anyway-and set fire to the grass in a heartbeat, leaving behind scorched earth and a large number of dead bodies. The blast of thunder that rocked across the city was loud enough to shatter windows all over the city, so loud that it was felt more than it was heard.
The wonderful thing about using the weather to attack was that the main energy needed to weave the spell was the part of creating the conditions. Jenna didn't have to fuel the storm to keep it going, only having to guide the quite natural processes that caused lightning, then direct it as it flashed from the clouds above. She had reached as far as she could reach with the lightning, enough to get a good part of the enemy reserves, but the rest were too far away for the lightning to reach, not without increasing the size of the storm. And Tarrin knew that she couldn't do that. She had made it as large as she could make it without inviting T'Kya's wrath. She kept raining lightning down wherever she saw a large concentration of enemies, moving the lightning closer and closer to the city to stem the flow of reinforcements. The Goblinoids that were trying to get into the city stopped rushing towards the walls, some of them diving to the ground, some of them turning around and fleeing back towards their army's reserves, some running in circles or in random directions.
Tarrin wove together a massive, intricate weave of Fire and Divine power, charging it with a great amount of magical power, then he released it. The Elemental spirit which answered his calls flowed into the magical construction he had created for it, and then it manifested before him as a gigantic scorpion of fire, fifteen spans long and with a tail ten spans on its own, dropping to the ground below. Tarrin instructed it to attack and kill any Goblinoids it could find, not to harm the humans, Wikuni, Were-kin, Centaurs, and Selani engaging the Goblinoids, and to render aid to their allies if it saw them in danger of being cut down by the Goblinoids. It assured him it understood the situation, and then waded into the fight with its fiery claws and stinging tail flashing out to strike at their enemies. Tarrin had dropped the Fire Elemental right in the breach, just behind the rubble of the wall, where it could assault the Goblinoids from behind even as the Arakites and Ungardt pushed them back into the Fire Elemental. Now he could concentrate somewhere else and allow his Fire Elemental to act on its own, adding more power to their efforts.
There was still stiff resistance, despite the power of the spells he and Jenna used. He absently incinerated a ki'zadun Wizard, who was using magic to send sheets of reddish fire up at the wall, fire from which the Wikuni musketeers recoiled savagely. Fire would ignite their gunpowder and kill them, and the Wizard seemed to understand that. When the fire stopped, the fifty or so odd Wikuni, all of them mismatched in appeareance but wearing those same red and blue uniforms, all knelt at the command of their officer and then fired their muskets down at a group of Goblinoids that had just climbed over the rubble of the wall. They pulled back to reload, and were replaced by a troop of Sulasian archers, who rained arrows down on the Goblinoids trying to crawl over the rubble of the wall until the musketeers were ready to fire again. The few that did manage to get over rubble alive were either blasted by Jenna's lightning, or found themselves facing a merciless Fire Elemental. They shrieked in panic and agony as Jenna's lightning pounded among them, and then the creatures, stunned by the thunderclap, were rent to pieces by the solid fire claws of the Elemental, or were speared by its tail, or were simply trampled under, where the intense heat the Elemental radiated set fire to their clothes, fur, and hair. Even a glancing blow from the Elemental left charred wounds in its wake, making the creature absolutely deadly to its enemies.
Tarrin saw that Goblinoids were still trying to climb up the walls. He saw a contingent of Arakites and Wikuni pushing ladders away from the walls with long poles, and in another area, they were fighting at close range with a large number of agile Dargu that had managed to get onto the wall. Tarrin realized that he'd wear himself out trying to kill them all, when he could simply do what Jenna did before him. Now that most of the enemy Wizards were dead, they wouldn't be able to stop them a second time. He drew in all the power he could, and then wove together the seven flows to form a Ward, charging it so it would last about an hour. Given the short duration, it allowed him to make its physical dimensions impressive, and he set it so that it ran about ten spans away from the outside edge of the wall, extending about a half a longspan from one side to the other. Wards had to be enclosed, continuous, so instead of a globe or sphere, he formed it as a rectangular box that was twenty spans wide, which brought the outside half of the wall into its area of protection. That made it as good as a wall, one that reached the whole area in which the Goblinoids were trying to climb the walls or enter through the opening Jenna had formed.
It took more than what he could hold at one time, forcing him to weave the Ward in stages, and it took him nearly two minutes to complete. But when he released it, the time and effort were more than worth it, for the Goblinoids on the walls, trying to climb up the walls, trying to climb up the rubble of the wall, they all simply dropped stone dead wherever they were. Those Goblinoids racing forward crumpled to the ground the instant they crossed that invisible boundary, slain by the power of the Ward.
The storm over their heads began to drift east, carried by the sea breeze, out over the reserves of the ki'zadun, but as it moved, it left Jenna's control. The sudden deluge of rain and lightning did probably cause them some problems, however, for it made it hard for them to see that their Goblinoids were dying off at an alarming rate. Tarrin looked down through his projection, seeing that without the influx of reinforcements, the Goblinoids in the city that were still alive were being cut down quickly, overwhelmed by the superior skills of their human, Selani, Wikuni, and Fae-da'Nar enemies. Even if they committed their human elements, this battle was won.
So why did they continue to press the attack?
It made no sense! They'd lost their Demons, their Priests, most of their Wizards, the Fae-da'Kii, and now they were going to lose their Goblinoids. Why continue to attack? What reason did they have? It was madness! Were they so single-minded that they would throw their entire army away? Were they so afraid to go back and face Val without a victory that they were all willing to die here and now? Tarrin looked out over the reserves, seeing a dome of dryness that held Kravon and that six-armed, snake-bodied Demoness, the one commanding the battle for her side. What was she doing? Was she a total incompetent?
The bodies kept piling up around the walls, and the forces within were starting to run out of Goblinoids to fight. They had slaughtered a huge amount of them before, and what were left either died outside the walls or were cut down by the defenders within. Many of them stood in place, catching their breath, as a few small pockets of fanatical Goblinoids were surrounded and crushed by the defenders, but they were few and far between.
Tarrin turned to look at the Demoness as the storm passed. They had nothing but their human reserves left, about five thousand troops, and that wasn't a match for the force they would have to challenge. But still she didn't order a recall. Instead, she looked down at the emaciated Wizard and said something. Kravon nodded, and then called someone up to him. A small man scurried forward, holding a strange black metal device. What was that thing?
Kravon held it in his hands, and Tarrin could see that he was saying something. No, he was chanting. He was using magic! Tarrin sent his awareness over towards them, and as it got closer, he could sense the power of that black metal rod. It was some kind of magical artifact, and it was powerful!
That had to be their trump card!
Tarrin immediately reached into the Weave and tried to block its magic, but he found himself facing a black wall of impenetrable strength. He couldn't affect that strange thing! He felt at the power, and realized that it was the residual power of a god's might. A god had made that thing, and he couldn't affect it!
Kravon finished, and held up the metal rod. It seemed to pulsate, and then a strange blackness issued forth from it, like some kind of black cloud. It rolled forward, towards Suld, growing larger and thinner as it moved, becoming like a fog bank but easily seen through. Tarrin watched it coming, worked out a spell of Air that would repulse it, and then wove and released it. A sudden gust of strong wind blew out over the wall, rushing towards that black cloud-
– -and then passed through it without doing anything.
It was a magical effect! And he could already sense that he could do nothing to prevent it. The black cloud rolled over the more distant bodies, those slain by cannon shrapnel, muskets, and arrows. And to his horror, those dead bodies began to move. They began clamoring to their feet, even as the black cloud rolled forward.
In horror, he realized why they had thrown away their army. To use that metal rod and cause them all to rise again as undead.
He spun around in the air and looked around. The defenders were absolutely surrounded by the bodies of their enemies! When that black cloud reached them, they'd be overwhelmed!
He realized immediately what they had to do. Pull back to where no fighting had taken place and reset their lines.
Using Sorcery to augment his voice, he shouted down to them quickly. "Everybody fall back! Fall back to the Fountain of the Swans! Damn you all, fall back right now!"
Some of them didn't speak Sulasian, mainly Wikuni, but when the ones on the walls looked out over the battlefield, saw the undead bodies rising up, even as the human reserves roared war cries and began to charge, they understood. "Jenna, Keeper, get everyone back to the fountain, and do it now! We have about two minutes to retreat, or we're going to be surrounded by undead!"
In a near panic, Tarrin mulled over and rejected any number of ideas to try to stop or slow down the black cloud, from an anti-magic Ward to trying to kill Kravon before it reached the wall, but it was moving too fast. He didn't have time to do anything, and besides, they'd need him to help get everyone pulled out. They weren't going to be able to retreat fast enough, and the people on the walls were going to have to literally fight their way out. He wove together a large weave of Air and used it as a giant hand, scooping up the Wikuni, Sulasians, and Arakites on the walls and depositing them on the ground quickly and gently as officers began barking commands for them to retreat. Jenna, clever Jenna, used Sorcery to obliterate as many bodies as she could as the defenders began to run into the city, clearing before the roiling black mist that crept towards them, with the shouts of the ki'zadun reserves behind it. Tarrin did the same, using vast sheets of fire to incinerate the bodies on the walls, both enemy and friend, making it hot enough to burn them beyond mobility. Tarrin could see that Jenna was starting to get very tired, and he couldn't deny that Sorcery was starting to become harder and harder to use himself.
With a gut-based fear, Tarrin pulled his projection away from that evil black mist, afraid to get inside it as it drifted over the walls, reawakening the dead it touched. In a move of sheer desperation, Tarrin wove together a Ward that would only allow living beings to pass through it and set it so it rested only a span above the ground. It wasn't very large, only covering a few square blocks, but he set it in the greatest concentration of friendly forces. It would prevent the undead from standing up, making them crawl outside the area of effect, and that would slow them down long enough for the defenders to pull back safely. That weave also began telling him how tired he was getting, and after one look at Jenna, who was panting and sweating, he realized that they'd also done things the way they had to wear out the Sorcerers before unleashing this new, very nasty part of their plan.
It was a disorganized, ugly, and very dangerous retreat. The black mist swept over the field, terrifying the defenders until they realized that it wasn't lethal, but it caused the bodies of the dead to begin to move. Not just the Goblinoids, either. All the Goblinoids and the humans, even the dead defenders, were awakened by that black mist and began to rise up. The bodies of those who had fought against the ki'zadun were now rising up to do battle for their cause. The bodies of the Wikuni, Selani, Vendari, Centaurs, Fae-da'Kii, and the very, very few Were-kin who had managed to be killed did not awaken. That, at least, was something. The newly formed undead found they couldn't stand up, so they crawled towards the living, many of whom were screaming in fear and fleeing back towards the city in a near rout. Tarrin couldn't blame them, for he found the scene horrifying enough on his own. To someone without exposure to magical phenomenon, it would be a terrifying, demoralizing sight. Men hacked at arms that reached out for them, some going down after being stabbed in the legs by the undead, who were then torn to pieces as their screams and cries of agony spurred the remaining men to retreat that much faster. In a matter of only a few minutes, the defenders withdrew from the main battle areas, away from the newly formed army of undead bodies that were rising up all around them, shuffling forward in a slow, ungainly advance, but they were chaotic, disorganized, and many of them were running away in terror.
And then Darvon was there. Atop a massive black charger, the aged Lord General of the Knights began shouting orders, waving his sword around. The defenders of the city rallied around the Lord General, formed into organized lines, and then withdrew step by step, using the Arakites and their large shields on the flanks of their formation to protect them from the reaching hands of the dead. They pulled back along the grand avenue leading in from the east gate, towards the Fountain of the Swans, which was about half a longspan along the avenue. Jenna and the Sorcerers that had been moving around the battle, helping where and when they could, joined the formation as it retreated cautiously and methodically. Darvon had stopped a panicked rout and turned it into a careful retreat, which would save many men from being the victim of their own fear. Tarrin brought his projection down to the ground as the army retreated towards the fountain, interposing his projection between the defenders and the slowly advancing undead, and he was starting to feel weary. Maintaining the projection had turned out to be more tiring than he had anticipated, but he had enough for one more spell. After that, he would have to release the Illusion and return to his own body. He mentally summoned back his Fire Elemental and told it to attack the undead-it would last about five hours with the magical energy he had bestowed upon it when weaving its shell-and then started weaving one more spell. It was quick and easy, a one-flow weave of pure Fire, and he unleashed it as a vast explosion of fire that erupted from in front of his projection and billowed out into the multitudes of the walking dead. They didn't dodge it or run away, and after it was over, the ones that had not been burned beyond the ability to move still shambled forward as their bodies burned like oil-soaked logs. The burnings ones that walked forward kept coming, even after all the flesh was burned from the bones, but some of them collapsed when the fire ate into the skulls, or burned their necks in half.
"Fire doesn't work, Tarrin!" Jenna called. "You have to take off their heads!" She moved out beyond the retreating lines and began to weave, and Tarrin knew what she was doing before she was done. She slashed her arm across her chest in a backhanded motion, and a slicing scythe of pure Air released at the motion, slashing across the entirety of the avenue before her. She aimed it at a relatively middle level that would take the heads off those of average height, and it was brutally effective. The weave slashed into the buildings on each side of the avenue, collapsing them as it cut them neatly in half, and it sliced through the undead shambling forward without impediment. Many of them were hit in the neck, but the taller ones were cut off at the upper chest and shoulders, and the shorter ones had only portions of their heads cut off by Jenna's spell. Regardless of where it hit, Jenna's weave stopped every undead body on the avenue, causing them to crumple bonelessly to the ground in one vast, seemingly coordinated motion.
Tarrin felt his projection begin to lose its integrity. He gave Jenna a single look that she understood, and was forced to abandon his Illusion and return his consciousness to his body. He did manage to hear a sudden tumultuous shout rise up from the defenders for Jenna before he withdrew his consciousness.
Tarrin opened his eyes and felt his weariness. He hovered within the Conduit, which was again glowing brightly due to his presence, and he managed to get his feet on the ground and step out of it. His exhaustion hit him much harder when he left its power-rich confines, separated from energy that sought to infuse him even without him trying. He put his paws on his knees and tried to catch his breath, feeling sweat drip down out of his hair, over his nose. Tarrin didn't sweat anymore unless he was engaged in heavy exertion, since he wasn't affected by heat. And he was pretty certain that even the sweating wasn't really necessary, probably only a side effect or leftover reaction of his body to heavy work. Jesmind was standing near the Conduit with Jasana, and to his surprise, Triana had joined them. His bond-mother looked drawn and pale, and he realized that summoning that Elemental had pushed her powers to the limit. It had taken everything she had to do it.
"Are you alright, beloved?" Jesmind asked in concern, and he could tell she was just itching to rush over to him. But he had given her an explicit warning not to come any closer to the Conduit than where she was now. Not for Jesmind, but to keep Jasana away from the Conduit. Given her strength, he didn't want her anywhere near the Conduit. That Conduit had been what had awakened his power of High Sorcery, and it had nearly killed him. Jasana was even stronger than him, and he doubted that she could control that much power flooding into her. And he was too tired to do it for her.
"I'm starting to wear out," he panted. "That damn Kravon, they had a plan all along!"
"What happened?" Triana asked in a shallow voice.
Tarrin quickly explained what happened, and it was enough to make Triana frown. "That was damn clever," she said with a grudging respect. "Wear us all out, then make us fight the same enemy twice in a row, but this time they're not as easy to kill."
"Shiika said that marilith was smart. I guess I underestimated her," Tarrin admitted. "Darvon rallied the troops into an orderly retreat. They're going to reset at the Fountain of the Swans and face the undead there." He blew out his breath. "But I'm wiped out. I don't think I could weave a spell to light a candle at the moment, and I know Jenna's almost as tired as I am. The Sorcerers are going to have to do without me until I can rest."
"What happened to the mouse?" Jesmind asked. "I saw them carrying her in at the end of the passageway just before you came out of that, whatever it is."
"The same thing that happened to Jula," he replied. "They had to bring her off the field. Where is Jula?"
"In our apartment, or so Miranda said," Jesmind replied. "Miranda's with her now."
"Mother, I know it's alot, but could you find whoever's in charge of the men here on the grounds and convince him that they need to send some reinforcements to Darvon?" he asked. "And make sure they send some fresh Sorcerers, and maybe some Priests."
"Camara Tal is commanding the forces on the grounds," Triana said. "She'll do it if I tell her to do it."
"They're going to need some extra help, Mother," he told her. "They're about to engage a horde of undead about four times their number."
"Alright, I'll go track her down and tell her, if Darvon hasn't gotten the message to her already."
"Thank you," he said gratefully. She nodded and padded off, and Tarrin went over to his mate and daughter. Jesmind put his arm around her shoulder and supported him as Jasana put her paws on his leg, looking up at him with concern. The little girl looked terrified; she'd been unnaturally quiet and nervous since the Goddess hijacked her, and she realized that what was going on was deadly serious. He reached down and picked her up, holding her close and stroking her back, trying to get her to calm down. "I'm fine, kitten, just a little tired, that's all," he assured her when she looked fearfully into his eyes.
"Come on, my mate. Let's go find you a bench or something," Jesmind said. "Somewhere quiet."
Tarrin didn't want to go someplace quiet, he wanted to go where he could keep track of what was going on. Jesmind glared at him, and then a short, heated argument ensued. Jesmind cut the argument short by simply pulling him off his feet and turning down a side passage that led to the kitchens, taking advantage of his weakened state to physically force him to go where she wanted him to go. Tarrin was too tired to fight her, and that meant that she won the argument. If she knew she was capable of getting her way, she would do it, and when he had no way to fight back, he was at her mercy.
"Tarrin, tell your Elemental how to kill the undead!" Jenna's voice reached him. "It's just flailing around out there!"
"Alright," he said, mentally instructing his Elemental on how to go about killing the undead soldiers. He also told it to accept commands from Jenna also for the time being, that he was off the field and unable to direct it as well as she could. It replied its acknowledgement to him. "Jenna, the Elemental will obey you," he said aloud. "If you need it to do something, tell it, and it'll do it."
"Alright. We've reached the fountain and are in the middle of reorganizing, but the undead haven't reached us yet. Your Elemental is doing a good job of slowing them down. Maybe now it can kill some of them."
"Alright. Tell Darvon I asked Camara Tal to send you some reinforcments and some fresh Sorcerers. They should be getting there soon."
"Darvon already sent a runner asking for them," Jenna chuckled. "But if you did the same, then they'll get here alot faster than Darvon expects. The runner just went out a minute ago."
"Who are you talking to?" Jesmind asked.
"Aunt Jenna," Jasana replied. "Can't you hear her?"
Tarrin gave his daughter a suspicious look, then looked to his mate. "Jenna," he affirmed. "She's using magic to talk to me."
"Aunt Jenna said Papa's, uh, el-ee-mint-ul -"
"Elemental," Tarrin corrected absently.
"That, that it's slowing down the bad people, but Papa had to tell it what to do to kill them." That was what he said. Jasana could hear whispers? Then again, that shouldn't have been a suprise. She was so powerful, and already so close to the Weave. "Papa told it to listen to Aunt Jenna, too."
They reached one of the smaller dining rooms not far from the kitchen, and Jesmind entered it and sat Tarrin down at the closest chair. Just sitting down made him feel alot better, and he felt his strength begin to return to him slowly but steadily. Jesmind grabbed a servant running down the hall and told her to bring them back some food and drink, and do it right now if she wanted to remain healthy. Jasana put herself firmly on his lap, looking up at him in concern, holding onto the end of his tail and wringing it in a rather painful manner.
"Cub, that's my tail, not a washrag," he chided her, leaning back when Jesmind put her paws on his shoulders and began to rub them, trying to get him to relax. But it was hard to relax, knowing what was marching down the streets of Suld. He was glad that the civilians had been evacuated from the eastern sections of the city, that they were all packed into the buildings between the Tower and the harbor, out of the likely paths of the advancing armies. That, at least, was not a worry. Jenna may have to do some serious damage to the city in order to attack the undead advancing on them, and that way she'd only be destroying buildings, not the people who lived and worked in them. He wanted to be out there with them, out defending the city, protecting the people, but he could not. Even if he were strong enough to do it, the Goddess had told him specifically that he could not leave the grounds, and he was not about to disobey her. He could leave using a projection, but that had turned out to be a very expensive means of lending his support. Had he been there in person, he'd still be able to throw magic. The extra effort of weaving through the Weave had tired him out prematurely.
Jesmind's powerful fingers seemed to find the greatest knot, and he felt his muscles relax under her expert ministration. He rested the back of his head against her belly as her paws did what he could not, to relax and allow his body a chance to rest without expending nearly as much energy in nervous tension as it recovered by sitting down.
It was at times like this that he really appreciated his mate.
She patted him on the shoulders, leaning forward so she could look down at him and smile without her breasts getting in the way. "Is that better, beloved?"
"You spoil me, my mate," he told her with a lazy smile. He lifted his head off of her stomach and gave Jasana a reassuring look, and the smell of food heralded the arrival of the servant, carrying a large tray laden with what smelled like cold beef and tankards of water. The middle aged woman, dressed in Tower livery, set the tray down without a word, then bowed hastily and scurried away as quickly as she could.
"Cold," Jesmind snorted as she sat down beside him and picked up a slice of beef.
"I doubt the cooks have much time for cooking," Tarrin told her. "There's a battle going on outside right now, love. They're probably out on the grounds repairing the fortifications the Demons tore down getting inside. And doing it very fast, if I know Camara."
"That Amazon reminds me so much of mother," Jesmind chuckled.
"I think that's why they're such good friends," Tarrin agreed, taking a bite out of a cold piece of roasted beef. It was a bit dry, probably from having sit out in the open, but it was good enough for right now. He had to stay calm, eat and rest, so he could use his magic again if it was necessary. Tarrin handed a piece of beef to Jasana, who took it from him and immediately bit into it. But she made a face, almost spitting it back out. "It's dry," she complained.
"It's all you're going to get for a while, cub, so eat it," Jesmind told her, taking a bit of beef herself.
They ate the beef, not particularly enjoying it, and were washing it down with water when the scent of Kimmie reached them. They all looked to the door as she filed in quickly. Her shirt was torn almost in half, leaving her left breast bare, but she hadn't bothered to find something to replace it. She had alot of blood on her clothes, but had no visible injuries outside of missing all the hair she'd had below her shoulders. Someone had hacked off her ponytail, and it had yet to grow back. She didn't smell particularly good, either. Were-cats didn't mind the smell of blood, but she had Troll blood on her, and it stunk just as bad as they did. Jasana wrinkled her nose when the full force of the smells Kimmie was carrying around reached those sitting at the table, and Jesmind waved her paw in front of her face.
"You're a mess, Kimmie," Jesmind noted.
"It's a mess out there," she blew out her breath. "They sent me to find you, since nobody knows where you are, Tarrin," she said immediately, scrubbing at some blood in her tabby fur on her left arm. "I am so wanting to take a bath right now," she said. "I got Troll blood all over me, and I can't get rid of the stench."
"Just go jump in the baths," Tarrin told her. "Changing out of those clothes would help."
"Bah," she snorted, pulling the remainder of the shirt off and throwing it to the floor, leaving herself bare-chested. Kimmie may have been turned, but she had long ago adjusted to the Were-cat indifference to showing skin. "I don't have time to visit, Tarrin. I'm going back out in just a moment. They wanted you to come to where the fence was breached. That's where they're concentrating their forces, since it seems that the magic of the fence is still working everywhere else. If they want to come in, they're going to have to come through that hole."
"I'm too tired to use magic right now, Kimmie," Tarrin objected. "I wore myself out fighting the Goblinoids at the wall."
"I saw that," she grinned. "Tired or not, they want you there. Whether or not you go is up to you, of course."
"Kimmie, don't leave that vile-smelling thing laying on the floor," Jesmind warned.
"Sorry," she said, reaching down and scooping it up. "Is that water? Can I have some, please?"
Jasana held out her tankard of water, and Kimmie advanced on them and took it with a grateful look. Jasana blew out her breath as Kimmie downed it in what looked like one swallow. "Go back over there, Aunt Kimmie!" Jasana ordered shrilly. "You smell too bad!"
"I think I will go jump in the bathing pool," Kimmie said ruefully, putting the tankard on the table. "And maybe find a chain jack and a sword."
"What do you need those for, girl?" Jesmind scoffed.
"I had a Troll cut off one of my breasts with an axe," she said with a wince, putting a paw over her left breast defensively. "Trust me, Jesmind, that was not a very pleasant experience. I didn't think it would hurt that much."
"You have to watch Trolls, Kimmie, they're alot faster than they look," Tarrin told her.
"I believe you, trust me. It ticked me off, and I killed it. That's where I got the blood on me," she retorted. "Since I don't feel like grabbing heads and pulling them off, I think finding a sword or an axe would be a good idea. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go jump in the bathing pool. I'll see you after all this is over, alright?"
"Be careful out there, Kimmie," Tarrin cautioned.
"Kill a few for me," Jesmind called with a vicious look in her eyes.
Kimmie gave her a wicked little grin, then padded out of the dining room holding what was left of her shirt. "Well, it looks like our kin are having fun without me," Jesmind grunted.
"It's not fun out there," he told her. "I saw a few dead Were-kin, but no Were-cats. At least not yet."
"We're alot tougher than our cousins," Jesmind shrugged. "What are you going to do?"
"Go out and see what Camara wants," he replied. "I want you and Jasana to stay here, love. I'll be alright, and I don't want to take Jasana out onto a battlefield."
"She's old enough."
"She may be, but I don't want her out there," he said firmly.
Jesmind looked about to object, and he realized why. Jesmind didn't want to leave Jasana, but she also didn't want to leave Tarrin either. The only way to keep both of them in sight was to keep the family together. "I'll be fine, my mate," he said assuringly, taking her paw and holding it. "I'm alot harder to kill than the average Were-cat. And the fighting is taking place in the city right now, love. I don't think I'll have to do any fighting for a while."
She gave him a flat look, then sighed. "Alright. I'll take Jasana back up to our apartments, and we'll watch Jula for you. I doubt Miranda will want to stay there with Kerri being in the same condition."
"That's fine. I'll be up as soon as I can, alright?"
"Alright."
He leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss, then kissed his daughter on the cheek and put her on Jesmind's lap. "I'll be up to see you in a while, cub," he promised her. "You go keep an eye on your sister for me, alright?"
"Alright, Papa," she nodded seriously.
He tapped her on the nose, which never failed to make her giggle, then got up and filed out of the room on the heels of Kimmie's scent. He didn't like the idea of leaving Jasana, but as tired as he was, he wouldn't be able to counter her magic anyway. She'd be much less apt to try to her magic if she was in the confined, controlled, safe environment of their apartments, so that was the best way to keep Jasana's power under control at the moment.
The Tower grounds showed definite evidence of their unwelcome visitors. There were some bloodstains on the ground, but no bodies, and some of the smaller outlying buildings had been damaged by the Demons' passing. One of them was still burning, reduced to the blackened bones of thick wooden planks. He padded past hurrying servants and warriors, the servants carrying things to and from the fortifications and the soldiers either carrying messages in or out of the Tower or moving in small patrols on the grounds. Tarrin moved among them without speaking, and they all gave him a very wide berth. He cleared the outlying buildings and saw the fortifications, an impressive breastwork set behind a wide ditch dug just inside the fence perimeter, a ditch about ten spans wide, five spans deep, and lined with sharpened stakes. They had done quite a great amount in a very short time. The fortifications went completely around the Tower, but most of the manpower was concentrated where the fence had been breached. Tarrin had little doubt that there were reserves ready to rush to any part of the breastwork at a moment's notice. It didn't take Tarrin long to spot Camara Tal, wearing a breastplate with an eagle etched into its front and her pattern tripa skirt, but now she wore leg and arm greaves, a burgonet helmet, and was carrying a round shield in addition to that battered old sword of hers. She looked every bit the general, pointing with her sword as she rearranged her forces for some reason. Standing beside her was an Arakite man, bald and rather wrinkled, but Tarrin saw that he'd been wrinkled by the sun and wind, and not by age. He wore a very ornate, almost gaudy breastplate inlaid liberally with gold and silver, the design on the back a pair of lions facing one another, the design on the front a falcon with its wings outstretched. He was a rather small man, but it was apparent that he was powerfully built, and the sword hanging at his side looked to be a part of him. This was a high-ranking Arakite officer. Standing on the other side of them was a face he hadn't seen in a very long time. It was Sevren. The tall, thin Sorcerer was wearing what looked to be the very same brown robes in which Tarrin had last seen him, the wire-framed spectacles on his face slid down to the end of his nose, looking over the tops of them at Camara Tal.
"It's about time," Camara Tal told him as he approached them. "What, did Kimmie stop to get something to eat before telling you?"
"I was hiding," he replied blandly. "It's been a while, Sevren. Where have you been?"
"Tor," he growled in reply. "I was sent there not long after you left, Tarrin. You're looking, tall, my friend. They said that happened to you."
"Blame his Empress," Tarrin said, pointing at the Arakite. "She did it to me."
"Empress Shiika is, unpredictable," the Arakite said with a light smile, in flawless Sulasian. "But she's honest. That puts her a rung above most of the Emperors we've had the last century."
"Tarrin, this is General Kang," Camara Tal introduced. "The Arakite commander."
"I heard some very impressive complements about you, General," Tarrin said with a nod. "From people who are very hard to impress."
"I try, my Lord," he said with an almost outrageous bow, something that Faalken would have done. It made Tarrin like the man immediately.
"You realize, of course, that Shiika was controlling all those Emperors?" he asked.
"Of course, but we don't blame her for their ineptitude," he replied with a mischievious grin. "Since they're all dead, we pretend that the problems we had with them came from them, and not from her. It's a rather pointless game, but we play it nonetheless. Empress Shiika seems to prefer it that way."
"How's she been doing?" he asked curiously.
"Politically? She's rather heavy-handed," he replied honestly. "Empress Shiika lacks something of a gentle touch. It took the Minister of Law three days to convince her that instituting a justice system that only had the death penalty as a punishment was a very bad idea. But she's learning. In about five years, she's going to be a very good monarch."
Tarrin was a bit surprised at his honesty, but it did sound like Shiika. "And nobody minds that she's a Demon?"
"After the last six Emperors we've had, my Lord, maybe getting a Demon as an Empress was a trade up," he replied with an absolutely straight face. "Besides, I think you of all people understand that our Empress is not your average Demon. She's much more than that, and I think that's why the people accept her."
Again, it was blunt honesty, and again, it sounded exactly what he expected to hear. Shiika was alot more than just a Demon. She lacked that fundamental evil that made her kind so feared and reviled, and though she was no sweet maiden, at least she wasn't a psychotic killer. Tarrin wondered absently just what had made Shiika different from all the other Demons, so different that she could find acceptance among those not of her kind.
"After the battle, I'll tell you that story," Shiika's voice called from behind. Tarrin turned to look, and saw her walking up to him, with two of her Cambisi, neither whose names he knew, just behind. She was still in her winged form, wearing a black haltar with an iron ring just under her collarbones to which the straps leading from the bust of the haltar and the straps going over her shoulders were tied, and a tail that formed a point straight down. She wore a pair of undyed leather trousers, rather thick ones from the looks of them, and a pair of soft knee boots. Kang and Sevren bowed deeply to her, but neither Camara Tal nor Tarrin bothered. "How is it, Kang?" she asked professionally.
"It is going smoothly, your Imperial Majesty," he replied immediately. "We've finished redeployment here, and sent fresh troops to General Darvon at the Fountain of the Swans. I've not received any reports from them quite yet, so I don't know if they've engaged the undead forces quite yet. I have enough reserves on hand to be able to defend any part of the fortifications within three minutes of signals of an assault. It may come to that, for the Aeradalla report that the human forces attached to the enemy army are trying to circle around the undead and the defenders, looking for an unimpeded path to the Tower."
"I see the fence is still active, despite being broken."
"Yes, Empress. The magical protection of the fence was considered when we changed our deployment. It should slow down the enemy long enough to set up our defenses, if they do try to assault the grounds without support from the undead."
She looked down at the smaller man. "I'm pleased, Kang. Bringing you is turning out to be a good thing."
"I'm humbled by your praise, your Imperial Majesty," he said with a deep, flourishing bow.
"I know he's not being sincere, but I just can't help liking it when he does that," Shiika said to Tarrin in a conspiratorial fashion. "Kang is the only general I have that will tell me I'm being a fool to my face. He keeps his head on his shoulders by being such a flatterer."
"You asked me for an honest opinion, Empress. I would never disobey a direct command from you. I'd cut off my own head with a butter knife first."
"See what I mean?" she told him with a smile.
Tarrin let that slide. "Why did you call me out here, Camara?" he asked.
"Because I want you out here," she replied. "I sent most of the Sorcerers and all of the Priests to Darvon. Priests can turn the undead, so they'll be more use there than here. That leaves me with about six Sorcerers, five Wizards, that mad mage Phandebrass, and you."
"What did he do now?"
"What hasn't he done!" she suddenly growled. "He tried to stop a Demon and ask it questions! I almost killed him myself!"
Despite their situation, Tarrin had to laugh at that. "That does sound like something he'd do," he admitted. "Sometimes I don't think Phandebrass lives in the same world with the rest of us."
"I think he's been snorting some of his spell components," Camara Tal grunted. "Anyway, if you don't mind, I'd like you to stick around, Tarrin. I've seen you use magic before. I can't think of any Sorcerer I'd want backing up my lines other than you."
"For you, Camara, I will," he sighed, "but I should warn you right now that I'm very tired. If I have to use magic, I doubt I'll get off more than two or three spells before I'm totally wiped out. They'll have to carry me back inside."
"From you, Tarrin, two or three spells may be all we need," the Amazon said confidently. "How is Triana? She looked about ready to fall over when she came out here."
"She's probably resting now," he replied. "She used up most of her energy summoning that Elemental earlier, and she still hasn't recovered. I hated sending her out here, but she was the only person I could find to come out here and relay that message. The only one I could trust, anyway."
"Are you going to stay and observe, Empress?" Kang asked.
"I think I will," she replied. "I have my own magic, you know, so I may be useful if the fur starts to fly. Sorry, Tarrin," she apologized at the use of the saying.
Tarrin realized that, again, someone had managed to avoid his attention so far. "Where is Sarraya?" he asked.
"I borrowed her," Shiika replied. "Faeries are small, fast, and they can go almost anywhere without attracting attention. So I convinced her to go out onto the battlefield and kill enemy officers."
"You got her to agree to that?" Tarrin said in surprise.
Shiika nodded. "She did a damn good job of it, to boot," she said with a satisfied little smile. "That little Faerie is a strong Druid, and she was able to use her magical power to knock off quite a few of the enemy's officers. She caused absolute chaos in their chain of command." She looked at her fingernails absently. "She should be back pretty soon. She's probably out of officers to hunt down."
Tarrin was surprised, but not too surprised. That was a rather clever thing to do, and Sarraya would be very well suited for it. It also explained why it seemed to take so long for the enemy to change their tactics. For all he knew, maybe the marilith did try to change the attack plan, but without many of her officers, it would have been very hard to implement her orders on the field. Sarraya, he realized, was the almost perfect assassin. She was tiny, quick, smart, and was a very powerful magician. She could go absolutely anywhere without being seen, strike from complete surprise, then fade away before the body hit the ground. And the people who found the body would never find out what happened. With Sarraya's Druidic power, she could make it appear like the victim died of a heart attack, or just about any other natural manner of death. They'd never know it was an assassination.
There was little to do but wait and worry. Minutes, then an hour, passed without much activity. Runners came in from the city to keep Kang and Camara Tal apprised of what was happening out there, and the news was reassuring. The Sorcerers had managed to rebuild a large Circle using Allia and Jenna, and Jenna had woven a very powerful spell that had destroyed a very large chunk of the attacking undead. With what power she had left, she wove a Ward that trapped about a quarter of the undead inside a five block area, a Ward that did not allow anything not living to pass, not even clothing. The size of it came with a duration limit, and the messages said that Jenna told them they'd have about two hours to set up to destroy those undead before the Ward dissolved. That took about half of the undead out of the battle, and that made the numbers more even. Darvon and his army held the undead back, the messages reported, but they were taking some considerable losses. When one could only strike the head off a foe to kill it, it made it very hard to fight the opponent. A dismembered undead warrior would continue to fight, even its severed limbs seeking to grapple with foes, until the head was taken from the body from which the fighting limbs had come.
After Camara Tal shared the latest report with Shiika, Sevren, and Tarrin, he and the specatcled Sorcerer spent a brief moment to catch up. Tarrin found out that not long after Sevren had started looking for the spy, he had been shipped off to Tor by the Council to investigate some leads about the Firestaff. It had been a complete waste of time for him, and he wasn't surprised to find out that the spy had been on the Council. In that position, Amelyn could simply reassign anyone that was getting close to her secret, and there wasn't much the Sorcerer could do about it. Tarrin related again the reason why he was so much taller than the last time Sevren had seen him. "It took me a while to get used to it," Tarrin admitted. "But all in all, I'm not entirely displeased. It's hard to find a chair that fits me, but at least everything in my rooms are made for someone my size."
"I think he turned out rather well," Shiika smiled, reaching out and grabbing him by the wrist, holding it up and running her fingers through the shaggy fetlock on the outside of his forearm. "Want to grow a little more?" she asked with a grin.
"I don't think I'd like that, Shiika," he said, disengaging his arm from her grip. He rubbed at his wrist absently.
"Strange that you two were enemies, yet Tarrin seems to tolerate you, your Majesty," Sevren noted. "It's not like him to be so forgiving."
"We were never truly enemies, Sevren," Shiika told him. "We opposed one another for a little time, but in the end we realized we were both actually trying to do the same thing."
"What was that, Empress?"
"Keep the Firestaff out of the wrong hands," she replied easily. "That's why I'm here, you know. I don't want anyone but Tarrin finding that old pain the butt, because I'd have to kill them. And I have more important things to do than run around the world tracking people down."
"I didn't know you had such an interest in it."
"It's more of an intense desire to be able to forget about it," she grunted. "I was here the last time someone used that damned thing. I don't want to see something like that happen again."
"Strange position for a Demoness. If you'd forgive my forwardness, your Majesty."
"Oh, it's not about doing the right thing or being a crusader, Sevren," she admitted easily. "I am a Demon, after all. It's all about how inconvenienced I'm going to be if someone uses the Firestaff. I'd rather do a little work right now then have to do a whole lot of work later."
"Well, at least you're honest, your Majesty," he smiled.
"I know. Honesty out of a monarch. The world should be turning over about now, shouldn't it?"
Sevren laughed, but an Aeradalla landed just to the side of them and went straight to Camara Tal. They were close enough to hear what the Aeradalla had to report. "The smaller element of the enemy forces are forming up on that street that runs from the north gate to here," the tall, thin, graceful winged man reported without any fanfare or pleasantries. "I think they're about to start advancing. Oh, and they have that six-armed creature with them, the one we were told to keep track of."
"Thank you, sentry," Camara Tal nodded. "Go back up and watch them. If they start advancing, signal us somehow, but don't take your eyes off them."
"As you command," he said with a sharp salute, then took a few steps away and vaulted back up into the sky.
"Zinshu, go," Shiika ordered to one of the Cambisi behind her. "If they start moving, let me know."
Tarrin heard no reply, but the redheaded Alu nodded to her mother, turned, and also climbed up into the sky to join the dozen or so odd Aeradalla who were circling high over the city, keeping track of everything happening on the ground. "Zinshu will let me know the instant they start moving, Camara," the Succubus told her.
"I hate to admit this, but you and those daughters of yours have been very handy, your Majesty," the Amazon admitted with a grunt. "I thought you'd be nothing but trouble."
"Well, we'll do our best to be nothing but trouble after the battle's over, just for you, Camara," Shiika smiled.
Camara Tal didn't look very amused, but she did nod vaguely. "If that information you gave us is accurate, your Majesty, they're the ones we're going to have to watch. They have their general with them, and generals often don't get into a fight unless they're rather certain that they're going to win. Sorry, Kang."
"You should never apologize for the truth, Camara Tal," Kang told her easily. "Generals usually don't get directly involved in fighting unless we're going to win. It makes us look more courageous, you know. We generals like to impress one another with stories of how brave we are."
"He's impossible," Shiika laughed. "But he's the best general I could find."
"Sometimes you have to put a light face on very dark things, your Majesty," Kang told her. "It makes it easier to bear."
Kang may have been a bit irreverent, but with that statement, Tarrin realized how wise the man was. This was more than just a good military man. This was a man of true intelligence.
Camara Tal moved her reserves up to the north side of the grounds, to counter any direct attempt on that side of the fence, though they all doubted it. The magic of the fence was still in effect, and it would stop any attempt to climb over it by holding fast anyone that touched it. But Camara Tal and Kang were too wizened to not take that possibility into account. With that Demon out there, just about anything was possible.
Shiika announced that they were moving, and Camara Tal ordered her troops to be ready to move in a hurry if it was necessary. They all waited in tense silence, watching Shiika, who was in telepathic communion with her daughter, who was in the air observing. "They're charging now," Shiika related. "About six blocks from the fence." There was a pause. "Three blocks, and they're still coming," she said, and Tarrin found himself getting anxious. Would they turn at the great street that ran the outside circumferrence of the fence? Would they not turn and assault the fence itself, confident in some plan or device that would defeat the fence's magical protection? Tarrin found the suspence to be almost unbearable, and they all stared at Shiika in intense anticipation.
"They're splitting up!" Shiika shouted. "Some are throwing themselves on the fence, and half just turned towards the breach!" Tarrin was surprised at that. They divided their forces? "The archers in the reserves just opened up on the ones at the fence. By the pit, the soldiers are climbing up the backs of the ones trapped on the fence! They're going to get over it!"
"Dispatch three divisions to reinforce the northern quadrant!" Kang snapped in a loud, crisp voice, a voice of command. "Sevren, if you would, send a Sorcerer or two over there!"
"That Demon is staying with the northern group," Shiika said. "She's attacking the defending forces with magic!"
"Then I'm going over there," Tarrin said, drawing out his sword from the elsewhere. "If the Demon is over there, then that's where the main part of their plan is giong to take place."
"Hold on, take Thalia with you!" Shiika called. "Thalia, go with Tarrin and help him take on that marilith!
"Yes, Mother," the night-haired Alu said aloud with a nod. "Come, Were-cat, we have an enemy to kill!"
"Camara Tal, go with them and take command of the northern divisions," Kang ordered. "I'll command our forces here. Don't hesitate to call for reserves if you need them."
"Aye, Kang," Camara Tal said as a large group of the defenders began to pull out of the breastwork fortifications, going to reinforce the northern section of the fence. Tarrin and the night-haired Alu ran ahead of the others, as Camara Tal shouted at them to get their butts moving and get over there.
It took them only moments to cover the distance, a distance that made Tarrin a little tired, given how exhausted he already was, but it was apparent they were needed. The breastworks behind the ditch were on fire, and Knights and Vendari alike were furiously retreating from the conflagration as Sulasian archers tried to fire over the flames, but they were shooting blindly and doing very little damage to the enemy. More and more black-uniformed humans got over the fence, a fence that had at least a hundred men magically pinned to it on both sides of it, men who had sacrificed their mobility to provide the rest of their army the chance to get past the obstacle safely. Already over the fence, on the edge of the ditch, was the six-armed Demoness, her snake body writhing as she wove her arms before her in some kind of sinuous dance. She was chanting in a loud, strange voice, and he realized that she was using magic. Not the innate magical powers of the Demons, but Wizard magic! This one was a Wizard as well as a Demon! A black mass formed over her head, then it streaked forward and expanded, blooming out into a cone of inky magical power, and it flowed over a section of the retreating forces. When it winked away, everyone who had been caught in its area of effect was laying limply on the ground, and the human Knights were ashen-skinned. He realized that they were dead.
This one was dangerous! Drawing himself up, Tarrin reached into the Weave and strangled the strands in the local area, choking them off and leaving them incapable of conducting Wizard magic through them. The Demoness blinked and started, and then her dark eyes seemed to focus on Tarrin as he rushed up from the south. But Tarrin saw that the damage had been done, for the black-uniformed men whom the Demoness commanded were rushing forward with great shouts, running through the ditch as the fire burning the logs in the breastwork died away, almost as if by some kind of cue. The ki'zadun were rushing towards the hole left behind by the spell of the marilith, seeking to gain a foothold on the inside of the fortifications and split the defenders in half. Knights and Vendari reversed their retreat the instant the fire died away, and the first of the enemy forces to jump over the charred logs found not a hole, but a thin line of Knights and Vendari seeking to prevent the enemy from penetrating any further. The twenty or so Knights and Vendari fought with furious desperation as the others in the line charged to support them, but their noble stance ended in death for all the Knights and many of the Vendari, swarmed over by superior numbers. But the ki'zadun found that for every Knight or Vendari they killed, another would rush up to take his place, preventing them from advancing more than a step for every enemy they cut down. But those steps quickly began to add up, as the lines of the defense bulged dangerously around the breach the Demoness had formed in their defense.
Then the Demoness appeared at the forefront of her forces. Each of her six arms held a sword, and she crashed into the Knights and Vendari like a whirlwind of death. Their weapons bounced off of her scaly snake body and her soft flesh upper torso harmlessly, but she killed a defender with each wave of one of those six swords. The ki'zadun formed up behind her, making her the point of a wedge, and they began to overwhelm the defenders in short order.
Tarrin sprinted forward, literally knocking defenders out of his way as he circled around to where the Demoness would come face to face with him. He watched her even as he moved, saw how competent and deadly she was with those six swords. He realized that trying to fight her one on one was suicide, even for him. He had one weapon, and no amount of weaving and dodging would keep him out of the reach of those six weapons for very long. But yet, what choice did he have? By blocking her Wizard and Demonic powers, he prevented himself from using Sorcery; it would be too strenuous to try, given how tired he was. He had to confront her physically.
He couldn't use Sorcery.
Tarrin stopped, reaching within, through the Cat, and touched the eternal, endless energy of the All. He remembered clearly some of the spells that Sathon taught him, and one of them would work perfectly in this situation. He formed his intent and image, though the image was little more than his own body, and then pushed his will into the All. It read his intent and responded to his request, and he felt magical power surge into him, through him, infusing his body with its power.
And the world began to slow down. Not apparently at first, but the Knights and Vendari began to move slower and slower, the sounds of the battle became lower and lower pitched, sluggish, and even the dust in the air began to swirl lazily. It became more and more apparent, until men hung in the air for impossible amounts of time between footsteps, and arms and legs moved like dandelion fluff floating in the still air.
Tarrin had used Druidic magic to accelerate his body, to increase his speed beyond natural limitations. The spell ususally came a a dreadful cost to humans, for it put incredible stresses on the body and caused it to accelerate its aging during the time it was sped up. A man could die of old age within ten minutes if the accelerated state was maintained, so it was something Druids usually used as a last resort. But Tarrin's body was immune to the effects of age, so it would be safe for him to use, at least for a few moments. He hoped that a few moments would be all it took.
Tarrin blazed through the men and came face to face with the Demoness. She moved much faster than the men around her, but she was still very slow to him as he engaged her without any warning or challenges. The surprised look on her face was very apparent to him, but he concentrated on keeping those six swords away from his body. He moved like lightning, but he was using a single weapon against six, and found himself parrying blow after blow, coming from above, below, in front, the sides, and every angle in between. The Demoness used the six swords in complete, total harmony, and Tarrin was hard pressed to do anything but defend against her, despite the fact that he could move more than twice as quickly as she. He barely managed to parry a stunningly complicated and fast series of slashes that came in from every angle at once, and he hissed in pain when one of the edges of those weapons slice across his waist, leaving a bleeding slash wound nearly five fingers long in his side.
Tarrin backed off, realizing that he was using the wrong weapon. He traded his sword into the elsewhere for his staff, a single weapon whose two ends and middle would give him a great deal more versatility and options against this dangerous foe. He came right back at her fearlessly, holding the staff in the center-grip, and she again unleashed a stunning series of interwoven slashes and thrusts that would have killed three men in seconds. But Tarrin used the entire staff to slap those attacks away, spinning it in his paws so quickly it whistled through the air with every movement, and it forced the snake-bodied Demoness to stop advancing forward as he turned and attacked her, knocking wide two weapons on her left side, parrying a third from the right, then turning the staff and driving it point first into her belly, just above where the mottled scales of her snake body began, jamming the staff's butt right into her navel. She actually slithered back a few spans, giving up the ground she had won as she struggled to take a breath, but Tarrin waded right into her, literally right into the wedge formation she headed, keeping the Demoness off balance and not giving her the chance to recover.
Tarrin's stand gave the defenders a chance to regroup themselves, and they fell on their smaller or more lightly armored foes with a renewed fury. They smashed into the wedge formation, crushing its left side and bending back its right as the Vendari and Knights drove the wedge back into itself. The Demoness hissed sibilantly at Tarrin, but then he sensed something on the edge of his awareness, and realized that the Demoness was communicating telepathically with her troops. They began to pull back, retreat as the Knights and Vendari threatened to encircle them and cut them off from the troops still coming over the fence and through the ditch, to reform their lines and attempt another breakout. Tarrin killed a few of the ki'zadun that tried to block him away from the Demoness, and then re-engaged her as the rest of her troops retreated behind her. She fought with a renewed vigor, moving faster than she was before as she took him very seriously, and he could see the look of intense concentration on her face as she sought to cut off his paws with her swords, attacking not his body, but the staff and the paws holding it. Tarrin spun the weapon precisely before him, parrying those attacks on his paws and fingers, but she got closer and closer with every new slice. They traded furious blows as Tarrin tried to disarm her even as she tried to disarm him, a dazzling display of weapon handling as two masters of their respective weapons wove intricate designs before them in a contest not of strength, but one of delicate nuance and skill, a contest where a miscalculation of a mere finger's width could spell the difference between victory and defeat.
They broke in a stalemate, and then Tarrin felt his heart suddenly begin to race wildly. The spell was starting to do damage to his body, and he knew that he'd have to break it any moment. His heart hammered in his chest as he rushed forward, understanding that if he didn't defeat the Demoness right then and there, he was going to have to retreat from her, and she'd be free to head up another wedge to break through their lines. He attacked her like a cyclone, pushing her into a defensive position as his staff blurred before him, seeking to hit her in some vital area, but he saw that she was making no attempt to fight back, only parrying the furious series of blows he levelled against her. She must have realized that he couldn't maintain his speed much longer, and now she was stalling! He redoubled his efforts to penetrate her defenses, but her six swords flowed with utter grace and complete harmony, proving that she could protect herself as effectively as she could attack.
Tarrin felt his blood begin to burn. He had to end the spell, and do it now!
He dropped back a pace as the battle continued to rage around them, and ended the spell. Everything around him sped back up, but his blood continued to burn and he felt very winded and a little dizzy. The Demoness grinned wickedly at him, raising her six swords and preparing to slide forward and battle him while he was trying to recover.
But then Thalia was between them. She rose her sword and gave an undulating cry not unlike the one the Selani used, then attacked the marilith without fear. The marilith seemed much more wary of Thalia than she had been of him, and seemed unsure of what to do as the Alu was turned away, then took one step back and stopped moving. The marilith did the same, and that confused Tarrin. What were they doing? Staring at one another? But then sensed something else going on, another battle taking place on another level, and he realized tht the two telepathic beings were battling with one another with their telepathic powers. Thalia must have feigned a physical attack to either confuse the marilith or make her think that she wasn't capable of such a mental assault.
It only lasted a moment, little more than two heartbeats, but then it was over. Her wings drooping, Thalia simply collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap. It was obvious that the marlith had won that confrontation.
But those two hearbeats were enough. Tarrin had felt the amulet around his neck become suddenly heavy, reminding him of its presence, and he again realized that he never had to fight the Demoness in the first place. It was on the Tower grounds, close to his Goddess! He could banish it the same way he banished the others! He was such a fool!
He took the amulet in his paw and remembered the words he had used before. They were words of power, a spell created with words instead of weaving, and he began to repeat them exactly. His voice rose in power by degrees with each word that escaped his lips, and the Demoness suddenly looked at him in total shock, seemingly taken aback by what she was hearing. She recovered quickly and surged forward with all six swords leading, seeking to kill him before he could complete the chant of the spell, but some unknown Knight suddenly interposed himself between Tarrin and the Demoness, sword and shield at the ready, prepared to stop her at any cost. The Knight had literally come out of nowhere, and the Demoness slashed at him at her full speed to knock the mortal out of the way-
– -but all of her attacks were smoothly either parried or blocked. The nameless Knight remained in her path, forced her to stop, gave Tarrin that critical moment he needed to complete the spell. The marilith looked down at her foe in fury, raising one sword to cleave his head in half as another darted in to strike at his shield, as a third clashed with the Knight's broadsword, and then a fourth plunged just inside his shield to drive through his armor and burst his heart, the sword's tip erupting out of the back of the armor.
The sword had no blood on it.
The sword that was high struck the visored helmet, but failed to penetrate it. It did knock the helmet off, however, revealing the man inside the armor. But it was no man.
It was Faalken!
There was no doubt, it was Faalken! The cherubic Knight's head was somewhat hazy, almost opaque, and Tarrin realized that the man within was nothing but a ghost, a shade, a spectre without form. The armor and weapons were real enough, but the Demoness could do no harm to the force giving them mobility. Tarrin nearly forgot the next word of the spell as the shock of seeing Faalken again hit him, and his voice stumbled slightly. But he kept chanting, not losing the spell, and then finally felt it reach its climax. He held up the amulet for the Demoness to see, presenting the holy symbol of his Goddess as an instrument through which she would deliver her might, and his voice thundered across the grounds. "In the name of Niami, Goddess of magic, I abjure ye, creature of darkness! Begone to the pit that spawned ye, or face the wrath of the Goddess!"
The Demoness screamed then, a scream of fury, rage, pain, and bitter frustration. "This is not over, Were-cat!" she screamed at him. "Your soul is mine! Mine, do you hear! I'll return to take it from you!" she promised, spitting the curse at him, and then her body simply evaporated into a hazy black mist, which itself vanished a second later.
There was a stunned silence on the field, which suddenly became a collective groan from the forces of the ki'zadun. It intensified when Camara Tal's reinforcments arrived and joined the lines, doubling the numbers of defenders they would have to defeat to break through. They just lost their general and their greatest weapon, and all of them had suddenly lost the will to battle with the deadly Knights and Vendari. But Tarrin didn't hear them, didn't see them cringe, didn't see the defenders give a great rallying cry and surge forward with renewed vigor. Tarrin's eyes were locked on Faalken, who just grinned that grin at him, gave him a wave of salute, and then vanished into nothingness just as the Demoness had vanished, leaving the armor and sword behind to clatter to the ground.
Just like that, he was gone. Faalken had saved him, protected him long enough to complete the spell. Even from the grave, Faalken continued to make his presence known, continued to aid his old friend.
Tarrin sank to one knee, feeling totally exhausted, and released the Weave to allow magic to flow again. He didn't know whether to feel happy or sad to see Faalken, and at the moment he was too tired to care about it. He crawled over to Thalia as the Knights and Vendari pushed the ki'zadun up against the breastworks, pinning them in place and then proceeding to slaughter them, but he didn't take notice. He rolled the Alu over onto her back as gently as he could, a hard job because of her wings, but he gave up being gentle when he looked into her glassy, blank eyes.
Thalia was dead.
She had sacrificed herself to protect him, just as Faalken had done for Dolanna. Despite being half Demon, she had given her life for the noblest of reasons, to protect someone else, and he felt a strange, towering pride for her. She had saved him, and in her own way, she had turned the tide of battle by giving him the time he needed to banish the Demoness. He said a silent prayer for Thalia, a humble beseechment of the Goddess that she look over the soul of Thalia and guide her to an afterlife deserving of her heroic actions. The shock of seeing Faalken again, of knowing that yet another had died because of him, it was a little too much. Tears formed in his eyes as he reached down to close her dark eyes, prepared to carry her back to her mother and apologize for what happened.
Then, to his absolute shock, Thalia took in a ragged breath. Those glassy eyes blinked, then she looked up at him in confusion. "What's going on?" she asked.
"I thought you were dead!" he gasped.
"It's possible to kill through the mind, but it's not easy," she said to him with a sudden grin. "It just took me a while to shake off the defeat, that's all. I guess I must have looked dead." Her grin faded as she realized that he was weeping. "Tears, for me? I'm very touched, Were-cat," she said gently. "But a little misplaced. I took on the marilith through the mind, knowing that she wouldn't be able to kill me with her swords. And I knew someone would come along behind me and keep her from finishing me off," she winked. "You know, the desperate defense of the fallen sacrificial lamb, and that sort of thing."
Tarrin laughed helplessly. Goddess, but Demons were cunning little things! "Thalia, you're just like your mother."
"Thank the pit. At least that means that I was paying attention when she taught me."
Tarrin laughed again, and then they struggled to help each other up. Tarrin was exhausted, totally drained, both physically and emotionally, after everything that had happened, but the result did seep through that as he saw the fruits of their labor and preparation. The enemy forces had been destroyed on their side of the fence, and the survivors were fleeing back into the city, leaving their screaming comrades still trapped on the fence behind. The loss of the marilith had crushed the will to fight out of them, and now they were running away in a full rout.
At least on their front, the battle had been won.
Now it fell to Kang and Darvon to win their battles, and the war would be over.
The battle at the breach in the fence was pitched and furious.
The remaining Wizards for the enemy were all concentrated there, and they used their magic liberally to burn at the palisade, to force the defenders away from the breastwork long enough for the soldiers crawling across the ditch to gain a foothold on that side of the ditch. The Sorcerers were taken aback by the flurry of magic, but then formed a Circle with Sevren leading and choked off the Wizards' powers, eliminating their advantage. It turned into a bloody stalemate as ki'zadun and the defenders exchanged blows over the palisade, neither side able to gain enough of an advantage to either push the attackers back or breach the lines of the defenders.
But that changed when Shiika and her lone Cambisi daughter entered the fray. Safe from Wizard spells, they waded over the palisade and attacked the ki'zadun with swords, and proved to be as devastating to the ki'zadun as the marilith had been against the Knights and Vendari. Neither of them even bothered to defend themselves, they hacked wildly at the men before them. They were invulnerable to the weapons of their enemies, and that protection proved fatal for the men facing the two Demonesses. They cut a huge swath through their opponents, pushing the ki'zadun back to the ditch where they were fighting. It went on like that for long moments, until the two of them pulled back to the defender's side of the palisade and took a short break to rest.
The stalemate raged even as the bodies began to pile up on both sides of the palisade. Kang engaged the enemy personally at the center of the lines, taking his own turn at the forefront of the breastwork to keep the enemy on the other side of it. The short Arakite proved to be a deadly warrior, a master of his longsword and the doom of every man who came up against him. Kang was a fencer, using his sword in light, delicate movements to brush aside the opposing weapon and deliver a lethal stab to the throat or chest, or a killing slash over the head, neck, or upper belly. The ground on the other side of the palisade from Kang began to pile up with the bodies of his opponents, and with his help, the line remained strong and unbroken.
About that time, one Wizard appeared to be up to something. It was a tall, emaciated man that looked like a walking cadaver, wearing black robes and carrying a black steel rod. He rose it up and began to chant in a strong voice, and it was apparent from the shocked looks on the faces of the Sorcerers that this was magic they couldn't counter. When the realization that this was the one that rose all the undead that Darvon's men were currently fighting reached through the lines, there was a sudden tension on their side. But the Knights and Vendari were too seasoned, too well trained to run away. They simply prepared themselves to face a newly populated force with plenty of undead. But when they realized that the dead on their side had been carried off the field, behind the lines, there was a sudden panicked call to decapitate all the dead before they woke up to attack them from behind.
Kang swore. If they raised all the dead, his forces would be surrounded!
For several seconds, it hung there, dead silence except for the chanting of the thin Wizard. But then a strangled cry issued forth from beyond the fence, then another, and then another, and the thin Wizard suddenly stopped chanting, and it was apparent that he didn't do it because the spell was over. A figure exploded from the ranks of the men around the thin man, a man wearing armor that was polished so much that it shone brilliantly in the noontime sun, almost like polished silver. The Wizard seemed to recoil from the armored warrior in the worst way, looking to be in total terror of the man, and then he turned to run from him. But the armored warrior moved with blazing speed, was upon him in five steps, and slashed that sword down the back of the Wizard. The Wizard shrieked in agony, fell to the ground and writhed in intense pain, trying to reach behind him to the wound. A wound that, Kang saw when he climbed atop the palisade and watched, bled with such profusion that it had to be unnatural. The armored figure stood over him, cackling in glee, then sliced him again on the side, then again on the arm, then again on the leg, light wounds, little more than scratches, that bled so liberally that it looked like the blood was fountaining out of the man like a geyser. Absolute silence swept over the field, except for the cackling of the man and the screams of the Wizard.
"Jegojah, he knew the Sorcerers would block yer magic, yes," the armored man hissed in delight. "Does it hurt, Kravon? Promised ye, Jegojah did, that Jegojah would bleed ye and watch ye die. Oh, and promised, Jegojah did, to cut ye for the Were-cat." He put a boot on the Wizard's neck to stop his thrashing, then dropped the tip of his sword down and, quite deliberately, raked it across the eyes of the Wizard, putting them out. "Now then, Jegojah hopes that ye don't die too quickly. Too long has Jegojah waited to avenge himself against ye, yes. Entertain Jegojah, Wizard, before we both go on to our final reward."
The wizard thrashed on the ground with his hands over his face, blood spewing from between his fingers like a crimson waterfall. As they all watched, Vendari, Knight, ki'zadun, Sorcerer, and Wizard alike, the thrashing and convulsions of the man on the ground grew weaker and weaker as a pool of red formed around him, soaking into the cobblestones of the street. The man's pale skin became pale white, and he moved with only the feeblest jerks, whimpering incoherently. And then he moved no more. The blood stopped flowing, flesh turning gray, and Kang realized with some reserve that somehow, every drop of blood had been leeched out of the man's body.
There was only the cackling laughter of the armored man, and that abruptly stopped. The man saluted the defenders with his sword and called to them. "Tell the Were-cat that Jegojah got their man," he said to them. "Tell him that Jegojah, he wishes him good luck and Gods' speed on his journey. Tell him that Jegojah bids farewell."
And then the man simply collapsed.
They watched his body crumple to the ground, and nobody did anything for a very long moment. And then, like a sudden tide, all the Wizards on the far side of the field turned and began to run away. Seeing their Wizards break, the footsoldiers turned and fled back over the ditch, back out of the breached fence, running without formation or discipline out into the city. It was a rout.
The strange armored man had somehow broke the spirit of their enemies! That must have been one of their leaders!
The defenders gave out a great cry of victory, but Kang knew that it wasn't over yet. He quickly ordered his troops to chase the fleeing enemies, to make sure they didn't regroup and attempt another assault.
But that was only the finishing touches on what had been a long, intense battle, the battle the likes of of which Kang had never thought to be a part. A battle for the history books.
A battle they had won.
The enthusiasm didn't exist at the Fountain of the Swans.
Anchored by a warehouse on one side and a large inn on the other, the Arakites formed an anchor to which the rest of the defenders clung, forming a shield wall to hold back the terrifying masses of undead warriors as they strove to break through. The undead fought with and without weapons, those without seeking to drag men out of the lines and into their numbers, where they would be torn apart. The defenders fought furiously to hold the lines and prevent themselves from being dragged out to their doom, as the mindless undead pressed up against the interlocked shields of the Arakite Legions as men behind pushed them away with pikes and spears, trying to drive them through the heads of their enemies
Darvon was in the middle of it, using a pike to push away undead pulling at the shields of the Arakites, men literally being held in place by the Ungardt and Centaurs to prevent the undead from grabbing the edges of the shields and drag the men out to where they could be rent apart. Things could have been alot worse, if Jenna hadn't killed at least a thousand of them with magic that cut through them like a scythe, decapitating a mess of them at once. The Ward that contained the others made their numbers at least managable, but that had been all that Jenna could muster. She was sitting unceremonoiusly on the ground about twenty spans behind the lines along with the Keeper and the other Sorcerers, who were all completely drained. There would be no more magical assistance from them, but they had already done more than enough to give them a fighting chance. Darvon returned to the grim task of pushing back undead, many of them wearing the uniforms of the Arakites and the Sulasians, bodies hijacked to fight for the other side.
There was a scream to his left, and one of the Arakites was pulled into the writhing mass of undead, his screams cut brutally short as he was torn to pieces. Undead suddenly surged into the hole the man had occupied, and for a terrifying moment, Darvon thought that they were going to break the line. The Arakites struggled to close the hole, but too many of their undead enemies had taken up the space he'd occupied. One brave Ungardt bodily slammed into the undead, using his great height and size to bull them out of the hole, but paid for it when the undead grabbed hold of him and dragged him past the Arakites. Darvon saw that the man had saved them from having the line breached, but he was about to pay for it with his life.
But something odd happened. All the undead seemed to shudder, all at once… and then they all fell to the ground.
The Ungardt that had saved the line stood out there, all by himself, about a span in front of the startled lines, looking around in confusion. But all the undead had fallen to the ground, and none of them were moving.
Darvon blinked. Had the magic that created them expired? One of the Arakites jabbed at the corpse of a Dargu with his spear, but it didn't move. None of them moved.
The defenders held the line, wary that they would all get up again, but it didn't happen. They stayed in formation, muttering amongst themselves in a nervous kind of anticipation for long moments, ready if the bodies moved again.
But they didn't.
An Aeradalla landed behind the lines, and was quickly rushed over to Darvon. The winged woman saluted him sharply, out of breath and obviously excited. "The troops at the Tower have repulsed the humans trying to break in!" she announced. "They killed the enemy commanders and captured the magical device that made all the bodies move, Lord General Darvon. The enemy troops are running away!"
There was a sudden roar of relief and joy from the assembled armies of the defenders, and Selani and Arakite exchanged congratulations as Ungardt pounded Centaurs on the back, and Sulasians clapped hands with Wikuni and Were-kin.
"General Kang requests that you dispatch troops to catch all the fleeing enemies, Lord General," the Aeradalla said happily. "They're in a full rout!"
Darvon blew out his breath, saying fervent prayers of thanks to Karas. That had come literally in the nick of time. If those undead had had five more minutes-he didn't even want to think about it. "Alright then, let's break up and capture all the enemies running away!" he boomed. "When that's done, it'll be time to celebrate! Lieutenants, take your squads out into the city and capture any enemies you encounter! My dear, if you would be so kind as to go up and tell all your friends to circle over the enemy soldiers, we'd appreciate it. They'll be much easier to find with your help."
"Of course, my Lord General," she smiled sweetly at him, then turned and vaulted into the sky.
"All right then, why are we standing around here?" he called in good-natured ribbing. "We have orders to carry out! Let's go, let's go! A little more, and then we feast and celebrate our victory!"
There was a sudden booming roar from the defending armies just before they broke up and began scouring the streets for the routed enemy, for they all knew that for all intents and purposes, the battle was over.
They had won.
To: Title EoF