James West - Shadow and Steel

He entered a large clearing roofed by interlaced branches, below which waited the four overturned longboats they had used them to escape Geldain a year ago. Dust, dried leaves, and bird droppings covered the hulls.

Leitos circled the boats. All lay quiet and stuffy under the thicket, the ground free of any sign that Kelrens had been there. He paused to listen, an arrow half-drawn. After a moment, a songbird lighted in the branches overhead. Another joined it, and they began chattering. Ba’Sel and Adham had taught him that birds across any land were fair spies….

Leitos stiffened. There had been no birds when they emerged from the sanctuary, where there should have been many sheltering from the day’s heat in the tree boughs. Something had driven them away-

Before the thought was finished, Leitos was running back the way he had come.

Leitos burst out of the thicket and dropped behind the nearest boulder. Far up the hillside, lost among the trees, his Brothers remained invisible. Dark clouds gathered over Witch’s Mole. Leitos began to relax. The coming storm might have driven most of the birds to cover-

An inhuman howl cut off the thought. A heartbeat later, a screaming horde of warriors, men and women alike wearing only baggy black or white breeches, exploded from all available cover between him and his Brothers. A hail of arrows fired by hidden archers flew over their heads and streaked into the trees where the Brothers waited.

Leitos cried a belated warning, and then loosed an arrow just ahead of the lead Kelren. The barbed head tore through the man’s bowels, and he fell in a tumbling roll.

All at once the Brothers surged from the trees, bucklers held at shoulder height to deflect falling arrows, as they sprinted toward Leitos. Every third man returned arrow for arrow, but they were far outnumbered. Even as he watched, the number of Kelrens tripled.

Leitos took aim at another target. Waving a pitted sword overhead, the howling woman outdistanced her companions. Embracing a sense of cold dispassion, Leitos fired. The arrow flew true and sank deep into the pit of her arm. Her cry cut off, but she ran a few more steps before toppling.

Leitos fired at another slaver. The sea-wolf fell, an arrow jutting from his neck. Before Leitos could target more enemies, the horde fell upon the Brothers of the Crimson Shield. Leitos sprinted up the hill to join them.

In the time it took for him to halve the distance to the battle, the Brothers had abandoned bows for swords, and presented a phalanx of whirling blades. Wave after wave, the Kelrens bled and died upon that blurring wall of razor-edged steel. Eager war cries became screams of agony.

Adham, Ba’Sel, and Ulmek formed the center of that line, fighting as Leitos had never imagined men could fight. Sea-wolves fell before them, throats torn out, limbs shortened to gushing stumps, entrails spilling. The Brothers advanced in lockstep, trampling the dead and wounded underfoot.

Just before Leitos reached the Brothers, a pair of changeling wolves circled the battle and attacked from behind. Where the Brothers fought with terrible beauty, the wolves ravaged mindlessly. Blood flew from their rending jaws. Teeth as long as a man’s fingers, and claws even longer, slashed like daggers.

Caught in the haze of battle, the Brothers closed ranks when their fellows fell, unaware of the threat at their backs.

Close enough now to smell the sharp odor of blood, Leitos ran faster, his sword replacing his bow. “Father!” he cried. “Behind you!”

The furious storm of battle crushed his voice before it reached a single ear. And still the Kelrens came, eroding the line of defending Brothers. Dust rose into swirling clouds, obscuring sight of the slaughter.

And then Leitos stumbled into the fray. All blurred around him, friend and foe becoming one. His sword slashed at branded skin, knowing it belonged to Kelrens.

“Now!” Ulmek yelled, sounding near.

Leitos heard breaking pottery, and then a flash of indigo light exploded before his eyes.

Nectar of Judgment! Terrible understanding filled him, even as a blast of heat and smoke knocked him sprawling. Within heartbeats, flames were sweeping through a line of screaming Kelrens, allowing the Brothers a chance to retreat.

Chaos capered and spread, separating enemies into smaller pockets. Leitos fought his way toward the longboats. Around him, hoarse shouts, the clangor of steel, the inferno’s whooshing crackle, all blended into a maddening roar.

From that madness emerged a changeling wolf, its spiny pelt smoking and charred. It spotted Leitos, growled low in its throat, and came near not on paws, but humanlike hands, the clutching fingers tipped with black talons. As it closed, its scorched hackles rose.

“Yours is the blood of Valara,” the wolf growled. Silvery threads of drool dripped from its teeth. Its huge chest blasted breaths that smelled of burned meat. “I’ve glutted upon your bloodline before. Kneel before me, and your death will be quick.”

“And what reward would your master grant for killing a prize he would rather have delivered alive?” Leitos shouted.

The changeling’s baleful yellow eyes narrowed. “The Faceless One commands less than he knows.”

Done banding words with a demon-born, Leitos attacked. The wolf reared, and Leitos ducked raking talons, even as he slashed his sword across the changeling’s belly. The wolf screamed and bounded away.

Leitos spun and came on, drawing his dagger. Belly awash in blood, the wolf turned back, jaws snapping. Leitos crouched low, allowing talons to whicker past his face, the tip of one dragging a bloody scratch down his cheek. He wrenched his head sideways and thrust his dagger deep into the wolf’s chest, then leaped away.

When the wolf turned and sprang again, Leitos dropped to his knees, and drove his sword deep between the changeling’s ribs. The wolf’s roar became a whimpery yelp, and the creature landed heavily, struggling to face Leitos.

“You have won nothing,” the demon-born rumbled through the froth of blood coating its muzzle. “You and all your weak kind will die-the age of men is finished.”

Leitos’s sword whirled and fell, slicing the wolf’s thick neck to the bone, and the beast crumpled.

Before Leitos could get his bearings, Ulmek sprinted out of the smoke, caught hold of Leitos, and hauled him along. Only a few Brothers ran with him.

“My father?” Leitos cried, struggling to look over his shoulder.

“Run!” Ulmek growled.

With Leitos between them, Ulmek and the other grim-faced Brothers raced down the hill, angling toward the thicket and the longboats. The sea-wolves came together and gave chase.

Moments later, Leitos crashed headlong into the thorny wall of bramble. Numb with worry, he felt nothing, and he smashed his way through to the passage.

When he came to the first longboat, he heaved it over. The rest of the Brothers tossed the oars inside. Haversacks followed, landing in a haphazard pile. Ulmek moved to the bow, and the rest took up positions around the sides. Behind them, howling Kelrens drew nearer.

“When we reach the sea,” Ulmek said Leitos, “you and Halan use your bows to hold them off. The rest of us will row until we are clear of the shore.”

“Where are the others?” Leitos demanded. Of forty Brothers, only eight remained.

“Some are dead,” Ulmek said, looking back the way they had come. By the sound of it, Kelrens were using their swords to clear a wider path.

“My father…?” Leitos could not say the words.

“Adham and Ba’Sel were taken. We may yet save them, but not without first saving ourselves.”

Sick with dread, Leitos took his place near the stern, and helped lift the boat. At Ulmek’s word, they followed a passage through the thicket, and came out at a precipitous trail leading to the cove.