Wizard of the Winds, page 40
* * * *
There was a deafening explosion and Luka's mount reared, shrieking in fear, claws pawing the air.
A cloud black as night and stinking of sulfur burst up between him and the fleeing humans.
Monstrous forms, all frighteningly ugly, all human, swirled out of the cloud, gnashing and grinding their flat teeth.
Luka heard his warriors howl in terror and knew they were experiencing the same thing. He tried to call out to them not to panic, to keep going until they reached the other side of the smoke curtain. But no one could make out his commands from the cries of hysteria.
Then it came to him that he was alone.
All his warriors had retreated and he was alone in the sulfurous darkness, filled with nightmare forms.
Luka wheeled his mount and retreated as calmly as he could.
When he'd cleared the smoky curtain he saw his father bearing down on him on his big white elephant.
"Why did you stop? his father shouted. Why didn't you go on?"
There was a thinly failed accusation of cowardice in his father's questions and Luka hated him for it.
"The humans caught us by surprise, Majesty, he said. It seemed best to regroup. Besides, it was only a small force, and most of that was illusion."
Manacia jabbed a talon at the ebbing curtain of smoke. Are you telling me Protarus isn't waiting out there?"
"I don't believe so, Majesty, Luka answered. I think he waits where our scouts say he waits. Near the place of the Two Rocks. This was only a diversion. He was testing us."
"Well, you're a fool to think that! Manacia snarled. He's out there, all right. I can feel it. He rapped his golden mail. In here I can feel it. He tapped his demon nose. And I can smell him. I can smell the human wizard, too."
Lord Fari had come up in time to hear the last. Are you certain, Your Majesty? he asked. I too sense a presence out there. But perhaps it is only another illusion."
Manacia snorted. Bah! I'm surrounded by fools and cowards."
He shouted for an aide. Sound the attack, he commanded.
A moment later the air was filled with the cacophony of trumpets and drums and booted feet and clanking mail as Manacia's vast army poured across the empty plain, seeking humans to kill.
To support them, Manacia gathered his best wizards together, including Fari, and they made a mighty spell.
Boiling clouds filled the skies. Lighting cracked Thunder rolled. Horrible beasts, dragons and winged lions, raged across the heavens.
Manacia worked himself to exhaustion, forming and casting war spell after war spell.
Several hours passed and the first scouts returned from the main force to report there were no signs of even a small band of humans to be found, much less a whole army.
By now Manacia had collapsed on his traveling bed, surrounded by his wizards. He'd just heard Fari report that the huge magical hammer they'd created had been for naught.
After Fari heard what the scouts had to say, he dared to approach his king. I think it is clear, Your Majesty, he said, that all our efforts are being wasted. There's no one out there."
"So I'm the fool, am I? Manacia raged.
"Not at all, Majesty, Luka broke in. Lord Fari meant nothing of the kind."
The old demon was surprised to see this unprecedented show of support from the Crown Prince.
"It is Protarus who is the fool, Majesty, Luka said. How dare he toy with you? And such empty gestures. A few were hurt, even killed. But it's like a flea bite on a camel's ass. Nothing more."
Manacia was roused from his weariness. He slammed one taloned fist into the other. I'll teach him to trifle with me, he said.
Again, the demon king shouted for his aides. We march for the Two Rocks at dawn, he commanded. We've seen Timura's magic. And it's nothing. Now let's see if Protarus can fight!"
* * * *
Safar waved and the battlefield vanished. Gundara hopped onto his shoulder and quietly accepted his sugary reward. Safar turned to Iraj.
"Manacia should be good and angry now, he said.
"Good, Iraj said. He gave a hard jerk of his head. Now, he'll get here quicker."
* * * *
The night before the battle Safar and Leiria made love for the first time in a long time.
In the beginning Leiria was fierce, but later she wept.
Safar held her, letting her weep. Suddenly she raised her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I would never betray you, Safar, she said, hoarse. Never!"
Safar was surprised at this announcement. He wondered what could be its cause.
But all he did was hold her closer.
And all he said, was, Of course not. Murmuring it over and over again. Of course not."
Until she fell asleep.
* * * *
On the second dayjust as the sun reached its highest pointManacia's scouts came to the place of the Two Stones. There they found Protarus waiting.
His forces were arranged strangely. The main group was focused in the centerbut pulled well back from the rock columns as if they offered some sort of shield, rather than just two incredibly tall pillars springing out of an otherwise empty wasteland.
Out to the side were cavalry wings, all bristling with the small bows of the plains warriors. Behind them were ranks of slingmen, all on foot. The slingmen were thinly guarded by small cavalry detachments and a few well-armed foot-soldiersmuscular men with short heavy spears in each hand and axes in their belts.
The scouts roamed the edges, letting their witch sniffers loose to find the magical center. The creatures looked like squat dogs with hyena faces. They dashed about, scratching at the ground and sniffing the air.
In the end they returned to their demon masters, tails between their spavined legs to show failure.
* * * *
Safar watched the scouts ride offheading north toward the Demon Moon where Manacia's forces were slowly moving forward.
He was perched on the crown of the westernmost rock column and had an excellent view. With him were Leiria, and four wizard helpers. There was a similar number posted on the opposite column, commanded by Horvan, his most able mage.
The spells he'd cast to shield the rock columns from the witch sniffers had been child's play. What had not been child's play was getting on top of those rocks. The task had been so difficultthe rocks so sheerSafar's plan had nearly been wrecked before he started.
Iraj's soldiers were all men of the plains. Mountains were unknown to them. The highest any had ever climbed was to the backs of their horses.
Safar had watched in awful suspense as the team Iraj had selected attacked the first rock column and failed time and again. They would get no higher than ten feetfifteen at the mostthen come off the smooth rock all flailing arms and shrill cries, like clumsy chicks falling from their nest.
The only fortunate thing was no one got hurt, beyond skinned fingers, knees and pride.
Finally, there was nothing to be done but have Safar attempt it himself. Everyone protested, Iraj the loudest.
"I'll not have my Grand Wazier killed before the battle even starts, he said.
"I'm a child of the mountains, Safar pointed out. And the only one with climbing experience. Besides, I'm eventually going to have make the climb anyway. The team was just supposed to set up ropes so they could hoist me and my mages into place."
He shrugged. It seems silly to risk all our plans over something so easily solved."
Finally, Iraj assented and Safar found himself next to the western column, peering up at the crown. He made a few cautious experimental attempts, fingers and bare toes skittering on the smooth rock, searching for hairline cracks just deep enough to give purchase.
The whole army was watchingan army that feared heightsand each time he fumbled and slid gently to the ground they gasped in unison as if he were plummeting to his death.
It reminded Safar of the nail-biting crowds at Methydia's Circus when great acrobatic feats were being performed. The thought brought back the skills he'd learned from Arlain and Kairo, and so on his first true attempt he scampered up thirty feet without pause.
The fifty-thousand man army cheered and applauded like the greatest audience ever gathered under one tent. Safar became carried away with the moment. Although he had good purchase, he pretended otherwise and made as if he'd lost his grip and was falling.
The army moaned in horror. It was an awful sound, a frightening sound. Nothing like a circus audience, which know deep in their hearts the performer will ultimately prevail.
It came to Safar the warriors were putting all their hopes in him. Yes, they knew Protarus was a great king and a mighty general who had carried them through the worst circumstances. Iraj was not a monarch who believed in wasting his soldiers lives. But they feared the demons, especially demon magic and they were looking to Lord Timura, the Grand Wazier, wizard above all wizards, to save them. Hadn't King Protarus himself attested to Lord Timura's abilities? And hadn't they already seen his early successes with the demons who'd held Kyrania, and in the shadow fight with Manacia?
To them, if Safar fell to his death it might very well portend their own. Safar took pity and ended his antics.
But he was showman enough to free a hand so he could wave while he nodded his head to show it was all in good fun.
A huge explosion of nervous laughter carried him the next ten feet.
He resumed the climb, but cautiously, soberly. It turned out to be much more difficult that way. Without the crowd-stirred energy of a performer to aid him he quickly became tired, his fingers and toes numb and a few times he really almost did lose his grip and come off the wall. When it happened he was at a height that would have crippled him, or spelled his doom.
He was exhausted when he finally reached the top. Although the cheers were thunderous, he felt nothing when he sent down the ropes to let the others up.
All he could think of was the other stone column. There was no getting around the fact it too had to be climbedand by him and him alone.
The only true blessing the Old Gods granted living things, and this grudgingly, was that all ordeals, all pain, must eventually endone way or the other. It was Safar's good fortune his ended well. And now he was perched on the first column he'd climbed, a little tired, but certainly ready for Manacia.
After awhile he saw the dust ridge rise up under the Demon Moon and knew the enemy was approaching. He flashed a palm mirror to signal Iraj. Orders were shouted from below, trumpets blared, and there was a shifting sea of warriors coming to life and moving into position.
The dust ridge grew larger by the hour, soon walling the entire horizon. Still it approached, until there came a point when Safar could almost make out the dark outlines of mounted demons. Then all forward motion halted and the ridge became a huge dusty boil. It was like an old, weary dog who'd found a suitable place to rest and was turning round and round, to finally settle nose to tail.
Safar signaled againManacia was making camp.
* * * *
The demon king scoffed at the battle map. It was clear to him what Protarus meant to do.
"He wants to use the stone columns to make us come to his center, he said to Luka. That's where his main force is gathered."
He gestured at the wooden markers to the left and right of the main forces. And he'll try to use his cavalry to pinch us in from the sides to make certain we stay on the course he prefers."
Manacia slammed his taloned fist onto the table, toppling the markers.
"Well, I don't intend to meekly follow this king's commands, he said. I've fought this battle before. Hells, I've fought it four or five times at least."
He tapped his horned head. It's all here, he said to his son. A game of minds. I almost feel sorry for Protarus. It's clear he doesn't know who or what he is up against."
Fari cleared his throat for attention. What of the wizard, Timura? he asked. He'll most certainly figure into Protarus plans."
Manacia scowled. It's true we haven't located him, he said. Or any source of human magic for that matter. I suppose he's shielded himself. It's not an easy thing to do, so I mustn't underestimate him. Still, I've got similar shields in place, protecting a much larger wizardly force.
"We'll wait until he strikes and reveals himself. He won't stand a chance when we reply."
Luka and Fari exchanged quick looks. Each could tell the other was impressed with Manacia's reading of the situation.
The Crown Prince bitterly accepted his father's military expertise. He had no doubt when the battle commenced Manacia would prevail.
"We'll attack at dawn, Manacia said. Just as the humans are stirring at the camp fires."
He gestured at the Demon Moon hanging over the northern horizon. We'll have that at our backs to confound them, he said.
Manacia slapped his thigh in delight. There's nothing I enjoy more than attacking an enemy with the light in his eyes."
* * * *
Iraj surveyed his assembled troops. He let a broad grin play through his beard. Here we are again, lads, he said. Up to our callused behinds in hyenas and no way out!"
His voice, magically amplified by an amulet Safar had given him, rang with manly good cheer. The warriors roared laughter at their king's humor.
Iraj pointed a dramatic finger through the stone pillars, which perfectly framed the Demon Moon.
"Once again, he said, we're facing a fellow who doesn't think we're fit to empty his piss pot."
The warriors rumbled their disapproval.
"But we've taught royal prigs like that a thing or two in the past, haven't we lads?"
The warriors shouted agreement.
Iraj waved them to silence. It so happens that this time the prig we're facing is a demon."
There were low mutters, manly mutters, but forced.
Iraj thumped his chest. I've fought demons before, lads, he said. I fought them as a boy. And it was the demons who fell, not your king, boy though he was.
"You've never heard this story. It's a secret Lord Timura and I have kept for many years. But now I think it's time for all Esmir to know."
Iraj commenced to deliver an abbreviated, but highly dramatic account of the event.
"So you see, my lads, Iraj said when he was done, demons bleed the same as all of us. They have magic, but so do we in Lord Timura. They have us outnumbered, but I've just told you a story of outnumbered boys so you know that's no problem to men like yourselves.
"But I won't lie to you. The demons are formidable foes. Yet, what would be the pleasure of fighting if all our foes were weak?"
This struck the men of Plains of Jaspar particularly well and they all thundered their approval.
"What do you say, lads? Iraj shouted. Shall we wait until Manacia brings the fight to us?"
This was met with a resounding NO!"
"Shall we carry to the fight to him?"
This drew an overwhelming YES!"
"Then let's go to him, lads! Iraj thundered. Let's catch him with his breeches down and buried to the hilt in some demon whore."
The skies shook with their roared approval.
* * * *
As it so happened, Manacia was pleasuring himself with an enthusiastic demon maid when the news of the attack came. He wasn't buried to the hilt, but he was definitely considering such an action when someone scratched at the entrance to gain his attention.
Manacia tumbled out of his harem tent, buttoning up his breeches. Why do you disturb me? he roared.
His aide gibbered, then pointed south. Forgive mmm-mmm-me, Mmm-ajesty! But Pppp-protarus is attacking!"
Manacia's eyes shot south. It was dusk, but it was the eerie dusk of the Demon Moon, and the figures he sawhuman warriorswere cast large and bloody red.
The demon king was no hysteric. He'd dealt with surprise attacks before. He calmed his fears and shouted for his generals to counter.
* * * *
It was a Jaspar blood charge. No quarter given, none asked.
It was a screaming mass of horsemen, but not a man among them offered himself as a target. Each rode bareback, a thick leather harness girdling the horse's body, a slender rope lead to its mouth.
They whirled about the harness strap, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes hanging beneath the horse's belly. As they circled their mounts, they fired a constant stream of arrows from their small bows, so many that the sound was like a plague of biting flies descending in a black cloud on a cattle herd.
It was a mad charge, a charge where death was no consideration.
Arrow swarms disturbed the dusk with their black flight.
The screams of the demon wounded defied the desert calm.
And then they were among the demons, dropping their bows and drawing scimitars. Slashing this way and that.
They drove straight up the middle, nearly reaching Manacia himself, who was clambering aboard his elephant.
Iraj led that charge. He was a monster soldier, a soldier who could not be hit when the demon arrows swarmed back. His sword was a monster sword no blade could counter, no pike could match, no battle ax could confront.
He swept through the demon ranks. He was the arrow point, his men were its wounding flare, and the Demon Moon was his target.
He drove through the massed soldiers, aiming for the moon's blood spot, then he whirled and attacked the other way.
Iraj saw Manacia clambering on his elephant. A king-against-king fury took him and he struck toward his ultimate enemy.
But then Manacia's guard swarmed around him, spears tipped with deadly magic were hurled at himcountered by Safar's amulet which he wore about his neckand Iraj wisely turned aside.
He led his warriors out of the demon horde, doing even more damage in his retreat than in the initial assault.
* * * *
Gundara shouted, Shut up, shut up, shuuuttt up!"
Safar broke in. Quit arguing with your brother. I'm trying to concentrate."
"It's not my fault, Master, the little Favorite whined. Gundaree won't stop bothering me."
Safar fought for calm. He'd learned from Methydia that Art and Temperament came in the same package. If you couldn't deal with the Temperament you had no business telling Art what to do.
He offered some treats.
