Asena Blessed, page 36
part #2 of Altaica Series
Rows of archers stood in the rear of Baldev’s camp. Each archer worked with a shield bearer. They continued to fire return volleys at Ratilal’s troops, while the shield bearer strove to shelter them from the onslaught of arrows that pelted down upon them. Wounded warriors lay about them.
Curro dragged those too wounded to walk to safety on the slope nearest the Falcontine. He kept one eye on his brother and the approaching enemy.
Nicanor waited behind the stakes with the other Bear warriors. When the Boar infantry reached the stakes, they attacked all along the stake line, but several wedges attacked specific spots on the defences. The leading Boar troops sheltered their comrades inside the formation, who grabbed the stakes and began working them loose.
Nicanor stood in a gap between the stakes. He lunged forward, jabbing with a spear aiming for legs or any opening to try to wound the Boar attackers and break their shield wall.
One of the Boar teams had succeeded, and almost pushed through into the encampment.
‘Push forward!’ the Bear captain ordered. ‘Nic, forward!’
They desperately drove the Boar back. Bear warriors filled the gap the Boar had made and were able to attack from the sides between the remaining stakes. Nicanor forced his way forward on the other side, but was driven back and stumbled, taking another Bear with him. Curro leapt into the fray and stood over his brother, swinging an axe, while Nicanor and the other man scrambled to their feet.
His face twisted, red and frenzied, Curro unleashed all his anger and grief. ‘Miserable damn bastards! I’m sick of you all! Get off my brother! Go! Go!’ he bellowed as he attacked.
The Bear now attacked the Boar infantry from the sides and front. Curro pounded on the shield in front of him, heedless of danger. It splintered. He plunged forward, swinging the axe wildly, hacking into the enemy. Nicanor watched him in grateful horror as he fought beside him.
The Bear captain swung his war hammer like a madman on the other side, belting it into the shield before him. The shield tilted. He hammered another blow onto it. It cracked. His war hammer continued its path, breaking the arm of the Boar soldier before him, driving him back. The soldier fell. The Bear captain’s next blow cracked his helmet and smashed his skull.
Along the line, other Bear warriors attempted to stop the wedge formations of the Boar soldiers. They tried to jab between the shields with spears and glaives, slicing legs. Boar troops fell; another of their shield walls broke. United, the Bear drove them back, plugging the holes in the stake line. They pushed out further and a brutal melee ensued.
Baldev, surrounded by his guard, watched the battle unfold. The deciduous trees at the forest’s edge had lost all their leaves. A flock of birds scattered from the trees. Baldev narrowed his eyes, straining to see. ‘They’re trying to flank us to the east of the camp. Redirect the archers. Rain down vengeance upon them before we get there,’ he ordered one the men. ‘The rest of you, to the horses!’
They ran down the hillside to the where their horses were waiting, safely out of arrow range, and leapt upon them.
‘Come on!’ Baldev spurred his horse forward.
The volley of Bear arrows plummeted into the Boar soldiers as they emerged from the trees. Horses and men screamed in pain.
Two rows of Bear cavalry galloped around the slope, emerging into a clear area between the trees and the camp. Baldev and his riders in the first wave aimed their long spears and met them head on. Riders were jettisoned from horses by the thrust of spears. Men and horses fell, impaled. Long sinan gone, or splintered, the Bear drew their kilijs and hacked away at the enemy.
A second wave of Baldev’s cavalry descended upon the battlefield. They swept around the enemy horses and attacked them from behind. Trapped, the Boar cavalry disengaged and fled pell-mell. Half the Bear warriors chased them.
The Boar infantry, driven back and held at an impasse by Baldev’s foot soldiers, saw their cavalry routed and began to panic. Their commanders shouted out desperate orders to hold fast and form up using shields, but they broke and ran.
The Bear cavalry chasing the Boar horsemen drew closer to Ratilal’s lines.
Ratilal watched and waited. His vast army was arrayed across the land. Ordered, disciplined, they waited. The best troops had been kept in reserve.
‘It’s working, High Lord,’ Ratilal’s commander said. ‘They’ve split, they’re coming.’
Baldev glared at his pursuing cavalry. ‘Recall them!’ he hollered.
The strident note of a horn sounded. The Bear cavalry broke off and wheeled back to their camp, hacking at the fleeing Boar infantry as they passed through their ranks.
‘My lord, we had them.’
‘Don’t be a fool. You can damn well bet that Ratilal didn’t cross the Upper Divide with just that lot. Get our warriors behind the lines. We need to reinforce the defences. And we’ll have bloody little time to do it.’
From the slope of the hill, Baldev stared at the boggy ground below while his commanders awaited his orders. ‘Anil, send your guardian to the nearest towers across the Upper Divide. I want to know how Ratilal has crossed. Then I want to know his troop numbers and layout.’ To one commander he said, ‘Get a small party into the forest and get what you can to shore up the defences before the next wave—quickly.’
Anil lay down, they covered his prone body with shields. He merged with his guardian and the large rufous owl took flight. Its reddish-brown form disappeared from sight.
‘My lord, we could try to cross.’
‘We could. We’d be slaughtered,’ Baldev said. ‘Ratilal would sit on this hill and pick us off. Even if some of us were to stay and fight as rear guard I suspect we’d soon be overwhelmed. And once we’re gone, he’s free to head to Gopindar. Its walls may still stand, but the people will be in no shape to defend them. And even if they were, they no longer have the food supplies to hold out against a prolonged siege.’
‘There’s still Lord Karan.’
‘He’s chasing Ratilal’s scum, just as Ratilal wanted us to do.’
* * *
Hamza had split off to Bear Tooth Lake. Karan’s forces stuck to the forest trails to obscure their convoy. Isaura was grateful for all the training Pravin had insisted she do riding through the hills. She’d never thought horses could move so fast over such rough narrow tracks. Alejo never faltered, he never tired; nor did she. Isaura stayed merged with him, half in the spirit realm, and The Wild seeped into them and restored them as they travelled. She glanced back along the column.
Pravin, dogged protector, rode behind her with Gabriela beside him—grim, pale and grieving. Yet no longer fragile. Asha was surrounded by Āsim and her guard. After the murder of Umniga they would not let her out of their sight. Suniti rode beside her, another grey ghost seeking retribution.
The autumn leaves were gone in the flatland areas of the forest, only the dark conifers of the slopes were green. The world below looked stark and dead. A few days ago I wouldn’t have thought that, but then I felt so much younger. Into that bleakness they would ride and bring death. We’ll bring it because sometimes there is no other recourse. Sometimes the path to a better world lies through blood. A vision of those brown plains swathed in red confronted her; bile rose in her throat.
Karan called a halt, so they could rest the horses briefly.
Isaura pulled the crystals from her pocket and rolled them about in her hand. As always they would glow briefly and fade. She’d tried focusing on them, trying to will energy into them. ‘Damn it.’ She sat on the ground and Alejo rested his chin on her head. ‘I need to talk to her.’
Karan walked to Suniti. ‘Send your guardian ahead to Baldev’s camp. I want to know if he is under threat or if I’m just being paranoid. If he is being attacked, Ratilal will have lookouts in the hills. You need to locate them so we can kill them.’
‘I can go,’ Asha said.
‘No, Asha. Fihr is not exactly discreet. If Ratilal sees him, he’ll know we are coming. Another forest owl will not attract attention, particularly if Suniti is careful.’
‘Karan, I can do it,’ Isaura said. ‘I can spirit walk there again. I can report more quickly.’
‘They won’t see you. If they need help they won’t know we are coming.’
‘But at least you’ll know if you need to send Suniti at all.’
‘Fine,’ Karan said.
Asha scowled. ‘The lookouts are mine to kill then.’
Isaura slipped into the spirit realm, knowing Alejo would shield her thoughts and true intent as always.
I’ve been waiting, Isaura, Primara said.
I’ve work to do. You can accompany me if you wish.
I’d rather chat.
Then follow me, Isaura said flatly as she began a series of small jumps toward the Falcontine.
Primara smiled smugly at the crystals in Isaura’s hand. I thought you weren’t interested in them.
Inwardly, Isaura groaned. These are different. Do you know why they just glow and fade?
No. Events … took an unexpected turn. You should have been able to harness the energy of the crystal. Everything about you, your aura … you are closer to my people than the clans are.
So I can’t use these at all? They can’t help me?
It seems not. Unless you want to try again with a new flame eye … you did come very close. You were able to shatter those boulders.
It’s a miracle I’m alive. I should just throw these away, they’re no use … Wait, can you touch them like you could the other?
Primara reached out, and as her hand drew near the crystal arcs of blue light speared out of them, lancing her image and fracturing it.
Primara?
She reformed, some distance away. Her face screwed in distaste. Clearly I cannot.
I want to talk to you about Pio, Isaura said. You know he can use the crystals.
He’s a bard. The crystals only respond when he plays, and what power has he? Music? Pah!
Isaura breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps then we can have a truce.
Primara’s lips curled. Were we at war?
Don’t you get tired and lonely? Ah, you can’t get tired, can you? But you know what I mean.
That was cruel. What do you want?
Isaura stopped. Her spirit form hovered over the area of Baldev’s camp. In the distance lay Ratilal’s forces. Dead men and horses lay on the brown plain between. Primara’s eyes narrowed.
I know you feel something for these people, Isaura said. I know you’ve guided them in the guise of Rana and you mourn the loss of Umniga. Don’t you want to help them now?
Primara was quiet for some time. What do you want me to do?
Help us in this fight.
How?
Use the Kenati Anil. Tell them aid is coming. For them to know their goddess is going to aid them will give them a boost when they most need it. Isaura stared hard at Ratilal’s camp. You can get into most people’s heads, yes?
If they’re sleeping—sometimes.
Find this Ratilal. Give him nightmares. Let him think Rana is against him. Let him know that the Asena Blessed is coming. Let him believe that I am the instrument of your vengeance. That I will kill him. Put the fear of the gods into him—literally.
Primara smiled gleefully. We have more in common than you realise. She hesitated. He’ll come for you, Isaura.
I know. I may not have the power you wanted, but I have enough.
Primara, thoughtful, quirked her brow. I suppose you do at that. I believe perhaps you have more strength than I ever did. Abruptly she said, What will you offer in return?
I’ll stop ignoring you. We can work together with these documents Karan wants me to translate. I’ll help rebuild your world.
Done.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Anil’s guardian landed on roof of the timber tower, his claws making little noise. He heard the voices of the Boar soldiers within.
‘That didn’t go well.’
‘We outnumber them. It’s merely a matter of time.’
The rufous owl launched into the air. Dead men and wounded littered the field. Bear warriors quickly dispatched any enemy still alive and ended the misery of the badly wounded horses. He swooped low over the pontoon bridges, never missing a detail and climbed higher to view the array of Ratilal’s army. By the gods, Anil thought as he looked through the owl’s eyes. He must have mobilised every man in the south.
Rows of infantry, archers, cavalry—a seething mess of manpower. They were still fortifying the southern section of their encampment with stakes and trenches. They had wicker mantlets as cover for the archers.
How did he get all this across in one night? Why didn’t I see them?
On the ground, Ratilal smiled as the owl circled around the camp. He drew back his bow and took aim, carefully tracking his target.
Anil felt another presence overwhelm his guardian. The owl suddenly veered to the side. An arrow brushed past the owl’s wing tip. A woman’s voice chastised him.
You linger too long, my Kenati. Be gone! Back to your camp. Be not so careless! Aid is coming.
The owl winged its way rapidly back to the Bear camp.
* * *
Baldev bellowed at his men as he helped shore up their defences. They dragged saplings and branches from the nearby forest into the line of stakes, filling the weakened spots. ‘Quick now, they’ll be back for another go before long.’
He left to check on the wounded lying on the far slope of the hill. He asked the field surgeon, ‘Of the wounded, how many can fight effectively?’
‘About half.’
‘Of the rest, how many can at least fire a bow.’
‘Half again.’
‘Get them up.’
Anil lay nearby. Baldev tensed as the rufous owl landed next to him and Anil returned to his body.
‘Report,’ Baldev snapped at him as soon as he sat up. He listened to Anil relate what he had seen. His face grew more sombre with each word.
‘My lord,’ Anil said, clutching Baldev’s arm. ‘There’s more. Rana spoke to me. Ratilal would have shot down my guardian, but she saved us. She says aid is coming.’
Baldev shook him off. ‘Unless she means Karan, I hope she has a battalion or two to send us,’ he spat. ‘I don’t suppose she said how far away they are?’
‘Er, no, my lord,’ Anil stammered.
A grim-faced runner approached Baldev with a message from his second in command.
Baldev’s face twisted in frustration. ‘Then we’ll just have to try to hold on for as long as we can.’
* * *
Ratilal left the field hospital and retired to his tent. Baldev had proved more resilient than he’d expected; he’d resisted several assaults during the day. ‘I should’ve thrown everything at him. I will tomorrow. When the wounded are seen to. The men are exhausted.’ He lay on his bedroll knowing his aide would wake him shortly.
Ratilal’s breathing grew relaxed as sleep overcame him. His dream took him to his suite at Pramod’s brothel where three of his favourites awaited him; he was aroused.
A gentle voice whispered to Ratilal, ‘There shall be no more such dreams for you.’ Her tone caressed him, he moaned in pleasure. Pain like he’d never known assaulted him. He writhed in agony, clutching his groin. Ratilal heard hoof beats in the distance; a gaze laced with blue fire speared him.
His sister, Samia, stood before him, laughing, smiling, then he saw her pressed against a wall by … someone … him, a look of despair upon her face. Finally she stood with her arms outstretched and blood dripping from her wrists. ‘You caused this. You will pay.’
The hoof beats grew louder.
Asha, beaten and defiant, spat at him. Pain flared in his cheek from where she’d gouged his flesh months earlier. ‘You will pay.’
The figure of a distant rider and horse galloping toward him flashed before Ratilal.
The image morphed into his father, Shahjahan, as he fell upon the sand at Parlan clutching his throat. His eyes met Ratilal’s and he whispered hoarsely, ‘You did this. You will pay.’ Shahjahan’s eyes streaked with blue lightning before the life left them.
The scene rearranged to a kitchen in a cottage where a mother and son sat bound, murdered. ‘You will pay.’
The hoof beats grew louder.
The kitchen became a forest and Umniga, arrows protruding from her, lay dying in the arms of Asha. All the while more and more voices cried, ‘You will pay,’ until it reverberated through his mind.
They coalesced into one voice, no longer soft and sweet, but ironclad. ‘Ratilal, son of Shahjahan—you will pay.’
A beautiful woman stood before him—young, dressed in a grey robe, with startling blue eyes and long silver hair that ended in blue tips.
‘Rana?’
Her smile was predatory. ‘For your crimes you have been judged. And my judgment is coming.’
The hoof beats grew louder.
‘The Asena Blessed will hunt you down.’
The horse and rider returned, and while Rana’s voice condemned him, their image grew steadily larger—the hoof beats became thunderous.
‘There is nowhere you can run that she will not find you.’
Ratilal was sweating, he couldn’t move. Charging toward him came the Asena Blessed. She rode a giant horse, her eyes burned blue, and in her hands she held the heads of his men. Those heads screamed their terror at him and the Asena Blessed pointed her sword at him and smiled.
He bolted upright, his chest heaving. That voice. Rana? Her voice haunted him. Her judgement for his sins was absolute and that judgement was coming.
The Asena Blessed. He’d seen her in the dream. Those eyes!
A commotion began outside his tent. ‘Look out!’
‘By the gods!’
‘Damn it.’ Ratilal lurched upright and stepped out of his tent.
Three rotten heads lay on the ground outside his tent. Even in the state they were in he recognised his men. The milky eyes stared in horror at him.
‘She is coming.’
* * *
