James Barclay - Beyond the Mists of Katura

The multiple detonations ripped up the ground and scattered fire in every direction, slowing the advance of the enemy centre, but they flooded forward undaunted elsewhere across the line, howling and roaring.

Now was when they missed Drech. The Il-Aryn were leaderless under their reluctant figurehead Ephemere, whose voice was quiet and had no carry. To the right of the gatehouse, Auum didn’t even know the name of the nominated leader.

‘Deploy the barrier,’ ordered Auum. ‘Keep their fire from our rampart.’

More arrows flicked out, meeting a wall of shields with only a few finding gaps. A couple of warriors fell. A second volley of orbs drove into the ground outside the gates. This time they struck flesh, wood and leather. Wesmen were hurled backwards and sideways, wreathed in fire. Ladders were reduced to ash.

‘More!’ yelled Auum. ‘Target the ladders. Cast! Cast!’

Beside him three mages were standing and preparing. Below, the Wesmen were scant yards from the wall. Ladders were raised ready to be laid against the stone. Arrows flew thick from the walls while Wesmen archers knelt, nocked shafts and fired.

‘Down!’

Wesmen arrows struck home, punching mages and human archers from the walls.

‘Get fire on the archers!’ Auum stood. ‘Look for the shamen.’

Along his section of the wall, his TaiGethen were marshalling those around them as best they could. The mages next to Auum cast, and a wall of flame sixty feet long sprang up in the midst of the advancing line. Wesmen dived in all directions, some wrapped in flame and screaming. More and more spells were flying down from the walls now. Wesman shields raised in defence were frozen by gales of super-cooled air. Flechettes of ice sliced into unprotected flesh and ripped through leather armour.

But still they came. Ladders thudded against the wall in ten places. . fifteen. Julatsan defenders fired down on the climbers while the TaiGethen stood ready to receive them. The second Wesman line slowed twenty yards from the walls. Shields were raised and, in among them, there was quick movement.

‘Shamen preparing!’ yelled Auum, but his warning was a moment too late. ‘Where’s my barrier? Get down!’

Hands stretched beyond the shields sent black fire from every fingertip. The tendrils scoured the top of the ramparts. Mage, Il-Aryn, TaiGethen and soldier alike were caught in the storm. Fire wormed into bodies and faces, searing and drilling deep, piercing hearts and ripping open stomachs. Wherever it struck flesh, the fire fed greedily. Defenders fell by the dozen, some dead before they hit the ground.

Auum rose and drew a blade, holding it in his right hand. Ulysan moved ahead of him, Ollem behind. Wesman warriors reached the tops of ladders. Axes swung and more defenders fell. The TaiGethen surged into the attack. Spells showered out into the attackers, driving the second line back a few paces.

Auum had almost reached the head of a ladder. It vibrated with the movement of climbers on its rungs. The first Wesman over the top hacked his axe into the head of a soldier too slow to bring his blade to bear. In front of Auum, Ulysan thrust his blade into the Wesman’s chest and he fell.

Another two appeared and, between them, an archer with an arrow nocked. He released, Auum swayed right and the arrow fizzed past him. Behind him, Ollem grunted and Auum turned to see him drop to his knees, the shaft jutting from his neck. Blood was flooding down his jacket.

‘Ollem!’

‘Fight,’ said Ollem, his voice thick with blood. ‘I’ll be all right.’

Auum swung back. Ulysan evaded an axe, ducking under the blade and rising fast. Ulysan’s blades sliced into the Wesman’s gut and face and he tumbled forward. Auum stepped up and jabbed his blade into the archer’s face, tipping him back off the ladder. The other warrior thrust his sword at Auum’s body. Auum jumped back and left, coming in again hard, back-handing his blade into the neck of the enemy.

Still they came. Shaman fire laced across the top of the walls again, driving defenders back and leaving the way clear for yet more ladders and Wesmen. Auum wanted to roar for his barrier again but it was obvious why it wasn’t going to happen. TaiGethen defending the Il-Aryn were moving them back away from immediate threat and indeed some were being directed to ladders to the ground to leave more space for fighting.

Auum glanced at Ollem and thought to call for help, but the young TaiGethen was still and his chest had stopped rising. Auum felt a hot anger settle on him.

‘He never had a chance,’ muttered Auum. ‘Too young, too strong to die like this. .’

‘Auum!’ screamed Ulysan.

Auum snapped round. Ulysan was fighting two Wesmen. The rampart seemed to be full of them. A blade was swinging towards Auum’s head. He used his anger and the threat alike. The axe head slowed before his eyes. He rocked back on his heels, simultaneously bringing his blade to ready.

The look of triumph in the Wesman’s eyes faded. The blade moved past Auum and on to collide with a crenellation. Auum moved forward, pushed the warrior’s head back with his weaker left hand and rammed his blade into his throat.

Auum dragged the blade clear, stepped over the falling body and headed for the ladder. A Wesman archer released a shaft, taking a soldier further along the wall through the shoulder. Auum grabbed his bow and pulled hard, heaving the Wesman onto the rampart, then stamped down on the back of his neck, moved on and buried his blade in the flank of another axe man, pushing the body over the wall, where it fell as a warning among his comrades.

Auum reached Ulysan, dropping out of the shetharyn. Ulysan ripped a blade into the gut of a warrior and heaved his body over the wall. Either side of them TaiGethen and Julatsan soldiers fought to clear the walls of Wesmen and defend the mages.

Spells were still firing out from behind the gates but elsewhere both arrow fire and castings were desultory. The shamen’s black fire played across the crenellations, daring the defenders to expose themselves to fire down.

‘We’ve got to force the shamen back,’ said Auum, ducking as a finger of black fire flickered on the stone a pace from where he stood. ‘Suggestions?’

More Wesmen ascended the ladder, flanked by shaman fire. Ulysan round-housed the first, catching him on the side of the head and clattering him into the next. Black fire reached for the big TaiGethen, who dropped to his haunches, the tendrils clutching above his head. Both Wesmen fell.

‘Get the mages onto the ground and casting blind over the walls,’ said Ulysan.

Arrows flicked over the ramparts. Defenders responded, firing blind from behind crenellations. The Wesmen were relentless, though. Thirty yards to the left they’d established a bridgehead and were forcing the defenders back. Auum saw soldiers fall and Faleen lead her Tai into the breach.

‘It’ll take too long. Got to create a diversion.’

The two elves stared at each other. ‘Cavalry.’

‘Hold!’ yelled Auum to any who would hear him. Hassek nodded his assent and took his Tai directly to a new ladder laid against the walls.

Auum ran back towards the gatehouse, ducking arrows and black fire and forcing his way through knots of fighting. He climbed the stairs three at a time and took a breath when he ducked through the door. Dead littered the gatehouse. Eyes were burned out, arrows stuck from chests and throats. Harild was crouched below the lip of the wall, glancing over and ducking back, roaring orders lost in the tumult. Black fire chased Auum and Ulysan down next to him alongside two aides, both of whom were too terrified to be of any use.

‘Can’t stop the Wytch fire,’ growled Harild.

‘How’s the right holding?’