Sam Bowring: Soul's Reckoning

‘Open the north tunnel,’ growled Galfin. The man stared at him for a moment, then nodded and bolted.

Galfin glanced at the sky. As if on cue, rocks came spinning into view. Further up, a dark blur showed him the Zyvanix still fighting the Graka – at least the wasps could get away from this menace.

He strode towards the fighting. Back from the breaches soldiers milled about, confused, ready to fight but unable to get to the multiple fronts that were already clustered thick with bodies. He spied Kalda directing troops to fill up gaps, and almost sent a prayer thanking Arkus for guiding him to her – but could not quite bring himself to, given that the gods also owed them this ruin.

‘Kalda,’ he said, ‘we’re retreating!’

‘But sir, our orders …’

‘I would rather be accused of insubordination than sacrifice countless lives for no reason. Do not question me further – there’s no time.’

A boulder smashed through the roof of the armoury not far away.

‘I’ve ordered the north tunnel opened,’ said Galfin, ‘but we cannot send all at once. I’ll join the attacks, you see to the rear. We must flee in stages, Kalda. I will hold back the shadow for as long as I can. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then be off!’

She disappeared into the mass, and he heard her shouting orders.

‘Right,’ he muttered. ‘Let it not be said that I fled hastily, abandoning those who covered the passage of the rest.’

He moved into the throng, pushing soldiers aside. ‘Let’s keep them busy!’ he called. ‘Make them pay for every step they take!’

He felt like a poor imitation of Corlas, but around him soldiers seemed to take heart at his words.

At one of the breaches, the wall was still smoking with foul shadow magic, and enemy soldiers were funnelling through. With a cry of rage, Galfin launched towards an Arabodedas wielding a mace, slashing him across the face.

‘Protect the gerent!’ he heard someone call, and quickly he was flanked by several young soldiers.

‘Push them back!’ he shouted, as arrows came in through the hole from enemy archers outside. He glanced behind, trying to make out how many soldiers were already moving towards the north tunnel, but could not see through the jostling.

A Vortharg landed on him, knocking him onto his back. He saw the creature’s rubbery lips descending, opening, its long tusks dripping, and knew he was about to get a face full of poison. Then an arrow plunged through the side of its warty head and it rolled off him. For a moment he lay dazed, then he shook his head and clambered unsteadily to his feet.

No time to take a nap.

A great crackling came from his left and he looked over to the next breach along. The Shadowdreamer stood inside a circle of his minions, now well within the fort. More streamed in behind him. They had established a solid front, the dreamer himself maintaining his own powerful ward over them all. Light magic could not penetrate it, yet the ward did not stop shadow mages from firing outwards, or warriors from swinging their swords. Shadow tendrils crept from the dreamer, seeking any that were near, making them convulse as dark energy rippled through them.

Again Galfin thought of Corlas, who had managed to wound the dreamer at the end when all seemed lost. But staring at the protection around Losara, Galfin knew he had no chance of getting through. His soldiers were being battered and beaten, dying on their feet all around him. The best he could do was to salvage what he could. Hopefully Kalda had had enough time.

‘Fall back!’ he called. ‘Come on, you fools! Fall back! You,’ he ordered a lightfist, ‘no more attacks! Protect our folk! Wards! Fall back!’

Somehow his orders were passed along, and as one his soldiers began to retreat from the breaches. Lightfists turned their attention to defence, and light wards appeared scattered randomly about. As they deserted the inside walls, more of the enemy was able to get through.

Galfin saw the dreamer’s creature scurrying past nearby, leaving a grisly path of death behind it. Even retreat is a massacre, he thought. Hysteria kissed him, but there was no fear for himself …all he wanted was to save those he still could from this terrible mess.

‘Disperse!’ he bellowed. ‘Save yourselves! Make for the north tunnel! Abandon the fort!’

He turned and ran, leaping over corpses. Others joined him, fleeing through the dusty town in the centre of the fort. Off to the side rose the top of the hill on which the fort was built, the entrance to the mine at its crown.

Such a towering monument , Galfin thought gloomily, just to protect a burrow in the ground.

He approached the north tunnel – a failsafe dug after Corlas’s time. Its gate, made of the magical metal shine, was raised and wide enough for some twenty people abreast …but soldiers were stampeding now, pushing others aside and even trampling them underfoot. Kalda was standing at the gate, shouting about maintaining order, her voice barely audible above the panicked throng. Galfin reached her side.

‘How many through?’ he puffed.

Kalda wiped her face with a dirt-stained hand, leaving a black smear across her brow. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Not enough. You should get inside, sir.’

‘No. I’ll stay with you. We shall see our people safely through.’

As soldiers continued to rush past, the creature appeared around a building and lazily knocked a sprinting blade from his feet.

‘By the light,’ said Galfin. ‘If that thing gets in the tunnel …hey!’ he shouted, striding suddenly from the gate. He noticed a sputtering lantern that had been dropped and stooped smoothly to pick it up, then swung it over his head. The creature’s gaze snapped to his.

‘Remember me?’

He flung the lantern at it, then dashed away up the hill. Chancing a glance over his shoulder, he saw that he’d succeeded in catching the creature’s attention. It chased after him, squeezing through buildings, knocking down walls.

Just have to get it away from the tunnel.

Galfin wondered where he was going, for there was nowhere to hide in the direction he fled, save inside the mine itself. A hiss met his ears from not far behind. The mine entrance loomed before him, and into the dark he plunged, forcing himself to slow lest he crash into a wall. Lanterns weren’t lit, as work had ceased some days ago, preparations for the impending attack taking priority. Thankfully he knew the network well and moved further in, around a corner, then paused to look back and watch the entrance. Only a sliver of moonlight crept in, and for a moment he feared the creature had given up on him, and turned back towards easier prey. The noise, the explosions, the screaming – all would surely entice it away from one lone man. Or perhaps the Shadowdreamer was too far away for the creature to pursue him any further?

Then a great shadow blotted out the moon as the creature passed inside. Of all the things to be thankful for , thought Galfin.

In the wall by his hand Galfin felt a bracket, in which a lantern hung unlit. Carefully, slowly, he pulled it free, even as he heard the thing sniffing its way towards him. If memory served, just opposite him was a passage that sloped sharply downwards. Praying for his aim to be true in the pitch dark, he flung the lantern with all his might. A few moments later it hit the ground, clattering down the steep passage. The creature’s footfalls paused at the sound, and Galfin flattened himself against the wall.

Down the tunnel with you , he prayed, sweat beading from every pore. Surely he reeked, surely the thing would smell him in an instant. Then he heard it move into the opposite passage, its claws scratching smooth stone as it slid down the slope after the lantern.