Sam Bowring: Soul's Reckoning

‘The move will have cost his mages energy,’ she said.

‘We can certainly hope so. Are our own catapults ready?’

‘Yes, sir.’

He looked down into the fort. The majority of his soldiers waited in rows, along which rode cerepans, taskmasters and phalanx commanders. All were ready for what approached, and there was a rare quiet, the air alive with tension. In the midst of the soldiers was a flat area, where the ropes of their own catapults strained taut, ready to unleash large chunks of stone. Some of them had originally been Battu’s, left behind when he’d retreated all those years ago, and it seemed fitting that they would now be used against Fenvarrow. Galfin had assigned lightfists to each – the mages would be able to levitate rocks onto the catapults from their stockpile more quickly than soldiers could carry them. He meant to fill the sky with stone.

The forefront of the shadow army ground to a stop just out of arrow range. As the rest caught up, they began to spread out in a long line, encircling the entire southward side of the fort. Galfin felt as if he was staring into a great abyss that threatened to crash in and swallow him.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘this should be interesting.’

Kalda stared at her hand and clicked her fingers.

Galfin frowned. ‘Some kind of good luck thing?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I do it when there’s something coming that …well …’

‘You wish there wasn’t?’

‘Aye. After whatever it is has been dealt with, I look at my hand and click my fingers again.’

‘Why?

‘Because then it’s like no time has passed at all.’

Galfin gave a grim smile.

The sun was almost gone, and runners moved around the fort lighting torches. Mages on the walls began to conjure glowing beacons, which floated off like clouds, illuminating the ground below. The moon seemed to shine more brightly than usual, and Galfin wondered if Arkus was watching over them. The combined light sources were no substitute for daytime, but at least he could see that the enemy’s catapults were finally setting down.

‘I look forward to that second click,’ he said. Then he nodded out towards the enemy. ‘I’d say that’s close enough.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Galfin took a deep breath, feeling the many sets of eyes that were focused upon him …and bellowed into the fort. ‘Catapults ready?’

Cries in the affirmative answered.

‘Begin the barrage!’

There was a series of swishing noises as ropes were released and the first wave of stones sailed into the air. They cleared the walls and, as the stones reached their apex, for a moment seemed to hang lazily, catching the moonlight as they turned …then plummeted towards the ground.

Glimmers of blue energy showed in the front lines of the shadow army. Large blue bolts, conjured by more than one shadow mage, went hurtling up to meet the rocks. There were explosions in the sky as they were blasted to pieces, but not to dust. Shards of rock still fell, not as catastrophically perhaps, but enough to result in cries of pain and skulls smashed inside helmets. A couple of the boulders were missed entirely and fell unhindered upon lines of enemies. Meanwhile lightfists were working fast, levitating rocks off a great pile. As soon as they were set down in position, a soldier would release the rope and off the boulder would soar. They were not all firing at the same time, as the various teams fell quickly out of sync, but that was what Galfin wanted – a pelting that was constant, yet unpredictable.

‘That’s the thing about living in a mine!’ he shouted at the shadow army. ‘Always got a lot of rocks!’

Laughter came from his soldiers, a sound that gave him strength.

‘Lightfists!’ he called. ‘Make ready – they seek to hurl some of their own!’

Taskmasters repeated his orders along the lines. As the Fenvarrow catapults unleashed a wave, lightfists were already channelling bolts, which shot out to meet the oncoming rocks with a series of whump noises, making them shudder in the air and sending them falling back to earth, to land short of the fort. There they hit the hill and rolled back down with gathering speed. The shadow front lines scattered to avoid them, exposing those behind to be crushed.

‘Did you think it would be easy?’ Galfin yelled, and cheers of defiance rose from his soldiers. More boulders flew over his head, one of them even smashing into another that was only just rising from an enemy catapult, showering fragments on those who had unleashed it.

Then, out of the front lines, something moved that caught his attention. Long and sleek, hard to make out in the dark, it wound its way like some kind of enormous lizard. Behind it followed a group, led by …yes, a man with blue hair. He was accompanied by a goblin, and a group of mages conjuring a mighty shadow ward to protect them. The creature took off suddenly, up the slope towards the fort. It stopped about halfway up, then ran along a line parallel to the walls, as if it dared not come any closer.

‘Lightfists!’ shouted Galfin. ‘Let’s have some spells on that monster!’

In answer more bolts went forth, and fireballs, and streams of lava, and glowing orbs. The creature froze to cock its head curiously at the approaching storm of light and fire. The first lava stream hit its back and sizzled over it, and the creature gave its tail a flick. Light bolts smacked into it, not even rocking it on its feet. A fireball burst across its hindquarters, leaving a streak that quickly faded.

‘What is that thing?’ muttered Galfin.

Behind the creature, the Shadowdreamer and his entourage were making their way up the hill. As they did the creature came further forward, maintaining its distance from them and matching their speed.

‘As if it’s tethered to them,’ observed Kalda, and Galfin realised she might be right.

‘Then that’s who we need to stop,’ he said. ‘Lightfists! Attack the dreamer!’

As the order travelled down the line, the barrage of spells realigned from the creature to the blue-haired man. In response the dark lord’s mages expanded their ward, which wobbled as light spells began to slam against it. A rock fell from the sky towards the group, and Galfin saw the Shadowdreamer raise a hand. The rock stopped suddenly in the air as if caught, and Galfin felt awed by the power on display. Then the dreamer brought his hand forward, and the rock came rushing towards Galfin with a speed not born of any catapult.

‘Down!’ he shouted and dived, dragging Kalda with him. The wall where he’d been watching exploded, spraying him with chips.

‘Graka!’ he heard someone shout, and pulled himself to his feet. Sure enough, a great flock of the stony creatures was climbing into the sky.

‘Time to put our special recruits to work,’ he said. ‘Send forth the Zyvanix!’

He hoped the dreamer had not expected they’d have a swarm of the wasps on hand here. Indeed, Galfin had been grateful when they’d arrived, sent ahead from the main army by Brahl several days ago – not exactly a secret weapon, but one which the enemy may not have thought of. A great buzzing sounded as Zyvanix rose inside the fort, wielding their distinctive stinger-like spears and barbed arrows. They were faster than the Graka, and would meet them somewhere high above before they ever managed to get over the fort.

The dreamer was now halfway up the hill, his creature almost touching the fort’s base. As the light spells continued to pour down, one of the dreamer’s mages cried out and fell thrashing, on fire. The others ignored him, labouring on slowly under the bombardment. Meanwhile the creature reached the wall, and began to climb.

‘Bows,’ Galfin shouted, ‘kill that thing!’