James West - Shadow and Steel

“What did you do?” Leitos asked, staring at the smoking remains.

“Daris thought it up,” Sumahn answered. “You place a wax-sealed vial of water into a jar filled with the Nectar of Judgment, throw it where you need fire, and…” Instead of finishing, he swept a hand over the blackened carnage. “On Witch’s Mole, we did the same thing against the Kelrens and their changeling wolves.”

The Yatoans cried their approval, but Ulmek cut them off with a gesture. “The day is not won yet. We must still find and destroy Adu’lin, and any who stand with him.”

“Once he knows that we have crushed the largest part of his forces,” Damoc advised, “he will flee.”

“And we will follow,” Ulmek said. “There can be no rest until he is dead.”

Adu’lin stared at the distant scene with a shock so deep he forgot to breathe. The demon-filled Brothers were supposed to have destroyed Damoc’s clan. There were other clans spread across the islands, but upon learning of Damoc’s death, they would have fled as far and fast as their boats would take them. In time, Adu’lin would have sent his Kelrens coursing after them, and they would have returned with holds filled with breeding stock.

Adu’lin had laid his plans carefully, never doubting success. Yet now, the most powerful of his forces lay in ashes. How can this be?

The intense eruption of strange fire lingered behind his eyes. He had never seen the like, and he feared what else he did not know. Who were these Brothers of the Crimson Shield, that they could conceive such deadly weaponry? Was it some power forgotten long years, something from before the Upheaval?

Another thought overrode all the others, and infused him with dread. Do they have the means to destroy the Faceless One?

It seemed inconceivable, impossible … but what if it were true, what if the Faceless One was not invulnerable, as all his loyal subjects believed?

Adu’lin backed into the midst of the newly possessed Kelrens, and looked around at their faces with far less confidence than he had ever felt. For the most part, many hours must pass before the demonic spirits within their shells of human skin could fully reform themselves into living flesh.

But he did not have hours.

The Yatoans and the few Brothers who were still human would come for him. Doubtless, they already plotted his capture … or even his death, for what reason did they have to keep him alive?

Adu’lin’s gaze rose above the city, to the mountains beyond the city wall. If he had any hope, it waited within the Throat of Balaam. The Faceless One will protect me , he thought, refusing to heed the doubts of his master’s supremacy.

“Go,” Adu’lin commanded the sea-wolves. “Destroy them.” He meant to project an air of strength, but the words came out as a whisper. Despite that, his newest creations obeyed.

Moments later, they burst from the building and spread out upon the street, racing toward their foes.

Adu’lin did not linger. He took the stairs down to the street, fled to the city wall by way of quiet alleys, and abandoned Armala. Never slowing to catch his breath, he made for his last refuge, and the birthplace of his transformation. Every step of the way his fear grew, reducing him to that which he loathed most in the world: A frightened man.

Leitos and the rest of the company whirled at the shouts of the Kelrens charging up the street. The slavers looked much the same as they had when they attacked Witch’s Mole, swarthy skin branded head to foot, loose breeches fluttering with each step, weapons waving above their heads like a steel hedge.

But they were not the same.

Their flat expressions told him that, even if he could not see the dull, silvery glints of their demon-possessed eyes in the light of day.

Sumahn and Daris, along with the Yatoans armed with bows, began firing arrows, thinning the enemy ranks, but not slowing them a whit.

“We cannot fight so many,” Damoc called.

Adham squinted. “I do not see Adu’lin among them.”

“Nor do I,” Ulmek agreed, cutting his eyes toward the elder. “You said he would flee. Where?”

Damoc thought but a moment, and in that time the Kelrens had halved the distance. In heartbeats, they would be upon them. “He will go to his master. There is nowhere else he can find safety.”

“Then we will follow him, and destroy the Throat of Balaam.”

“What of the wounded?”

Ulmek took in the downed Yatoans. “Gather them, and follow me.”

While a handful of Yatoans kept up a steady barrage of arrows, the others hoisted the worst of the wounded onto their shoulders, and aided the rest in trailing Ulmek.

The Yatoan archers came behind, slowing the Kelrens with coordinated volleys. In that way, the withdrawing company moved toward the southern edge of Armala, while at the same time forcing the demon-possessed sea-wolves to rethink their brazen attack.

At each turn, Ulmek gauged the pursuit of the enemy, until finally gaining enough ground to lose sight of them. After ducking down another alley, he bustled everyone into a building overgrown with climbing vines and thick moss.

Almost before Leitos could pull the last hobbling Yatoan into the musty gloom, Ulmek pressed the door shut, then barred it with a timber near to hand. If it came to it, neither the door nor the wooden bar, both rotted, would thwart the sea-wolves for long. Knowing that silence was their best defense, all remained quiet.

Ulmek joined Damoc at a shuttered window, and peered through a crack in the wood planks. “They missed us,” he said in a satisfied voice.

“Your trick will not fool them long,” Damoc said, facing his people.

Most of slumped against walls, or were stretched out on the floor. In the darkness, it was hard to judge their wounds, but Leitos could smell blood, and hear the labored breathing of those in severe pain.

“My brothers and I will give them a trail to follow,” Ulmek promised. “That will keep you safe.”

“What of Adu’lin?” Leitos asked.

Ulmek gave him a hard smile. “The trail we leave will, by necessity, lead to Adu’lin and the Throat of Balaam.”

Belina stepped forward, showing that she meant to join them. Nola moved beside her, just as resolute.

Ulmek studied them. “You will remain behind to protect your people. If this is the day of destruction for the Brothers of the Crimson Shield, then we will make it a day for songs of remembrance. It will be up to you to sing those songs.”

“My daughters and I will join you,” Damoc said firmly.

“You will remain with your people,” Ulmek insisted.

Damoc shook his head. “I will not allow another to bring justice upon Adu’lin, or to destroy the Throat.”

Ulmek seemed about to protest, then shrugged. “So be it.”

They divided the limited weaponry amongst the two bands. Those who would pursue Adu’lin each carried a dagger, sword, bow, and a quiver with a dozen arrows. Afterward, Damoc instructed his people to wait until dark before leaving the city.

“Fauthian archers may still lie in wait,” he warned. “Avoid them if you can. Destroy them if you must.”

Grim nods met his words.

Leitos sensed among the Yatoans an air of grieving, as if they knew in their hearts that the two bands would never see each other again. He silently promised them that the end they feared would not come. But in the still of his mind, he knew that promise was a frail hope.

“Come,” Ulmek said, leading his band through the crumbling building and out a rear door. “They Kelrens may have discovered by now that they no longer follow us,” he advised. “If so, they will have spread out to search. If we are not careful, they may surround us before we can escape.”