Lyndon Hardy - Master of the five Magics

Alodar looked to the crest behind and saw all the rest gathered in small clumps to watch the outcome. The sun reflected brightly off Vendora's gown. At her side he could see Duncan squeezing the pouch that contained his sphere. Basil kept looking over his shoulder as if he hoped to find a refuge he had missed before. At the last moment, Alodar had sent Aeriel away to join them; as he watched, she reluctantly faded into the throng.

Alodar turned back to face in the direction of the drums. The cadence was slow and booming. Each throb seemed to intensify with hypnotic incessancy. On every beat, the troops of the rebellion took another synchronized step down the incline. The slow march was deliberate, Alodar knew. The final yell and haphazard rush would come only after Vendora's defenders had been given ample time to contemplate the might arrayed against them.

They marched in rectangles three men deep and thirty wide, each one marked by a long banner hanging limply from a lance that poked skyward. Only narrow gaps separated groups one from another. But when Alodar looked to the left and right, he saw the air shimmer and the approaching men seem to fade from view. Except for a narrow portion of the line about the same length as that of the royal forces, no more of the huge army that had reached the crest the night before was visible.

"Even though we are outnumbered," Grengor said at Alodar's side, "if they do not choose to use their superior forces to envelop us, we still have a chance. The center will hold, and the savagery of Grak's kinsmen will be more than a match for minds that are demon-doped."

"They all move against us," Alodar replied. "You see but part of the illusion that I am casting in order to nullify some of the advantage. Last night Cedric and Grak agreed that it would be folly to stretch our line to match their length. Densely clustered, we would stand no chance against a sweep of the flanks. They said that they needed to defend a pass rather than a plain. So with the arts, I have attempted to form one."

Grengor wrinkled his brow and Alodar continued. "They came too late yesterday to get a clear view of the land between us. If we can convince them that deep bogs lie on either side, they will compress into the middle and trip over themselves as they try to jockey forward. The imp Gladril carried water-filled jugs into the sky. He periodically dumped them as he rose, thereby replacing their contents with the vapors of the various layers. Upon return to earth, each jug was then subjected to fire and cold as you see at my feet, and the sky above now bends the rays of light as I choose. The warriors coming down the hill do not see the empty plain to our right and left but a far wetter marsh we skirted in the north."

"But shimmering air alone will not bend them from their instructed course," Grengor objected.

"And so the camphor was used to make the solvent, imperfect as it was," Alodar said. "Delivered by the sprites into the path of the march, it has eaten at the grasses and rock for long enough that more than one bog-hole will result. For the rest, though you cannot hear them, no less than a dozen sirens caress their ears as they approach. And this time their song is not a meaningless wail but the word of sorcery as I have instructed them to say. Visions of cattails, rushes, sedge, and milkweed will mix with the flickering air. By themselves, each part of the effect would be insufficient, but together they will do what they must."

Alodar smiled as he saw a block of men emerge from the haze and move behind the line that marched without deflection down the center. Another group appeared and then another. "If I had had a magic sound box for the croak of the frog and buzz of the fly I could have used it as well. But no matter, it seems to be working with what I have already done. We still have to face them all, but at least not at the same time."

Suddenly the drums stopped. With a yell, Bandor's warriors flashed their swords and raced down the remaining portion of the hill. Screaming unearthly warcries, they dashed into the water, tromping up a fine spray with their passage. Some lost their balance and fell, but the ones behind ran over them, eyes gleaming. The precisely formed rectangles pulled apart into ragged lines and then disintegrated entirely. In twos and threes, they staggered to dry land and flung themselves at Vendora's defense.

Alodar caught his breath with the first clang of sword on shield. He saw a nomad nimbly sidestep an awkward thrust and then slash downward on the exposed neck and shoulder that tumbled after. More warriors reached the line. With a shout of their own, Cedric's center and Grak's barbarians met the attack. The noise of contact popped and groaned all along the line into the morning air. Alodar saw the mailed militia momentarily fall backwards from the shock but then stand firm and cut down the first who reached them. The nomads whirled their swords in great swinging arcs and leaped forward to meet their foes knee deep in the water. The attackers fell like wheat before a scythe.

Before the nomads advanced farther, hastily barked commands pulled them back into a more disciplined line. With taunting swords, they awaited the next rush, which came with far more caution. Bandor's troops reconsolidated into a wall, and the first row waded across to meet the defenders. More blocks squeezed in behind but hesitated at the far side of the lake, unwilling to stand in the cold water behind those who fought in front. Farther up the hill, other groups ducked behind their shields as they came within range of the hail of arrows. Alodar quickly surveyed the entire line. For the moment they had held the first charge.

Alodar let his breath out and then snapped his attention back to his own duties. "Quickly, Grengor," he ordered. "Untether the horses that pull the wagon and get two men alongside the barrels. I will tell you in a moment where we will best need them."

"Our proper place is down on the line with the rest, master," Grengor shot back. "I do not like this meaningless guard duty. The wounded who can walk will find this place well enough and the thaumaturge and alchemists can tend to the mending as well as you."

"We cannot hold this position, forever," Alodar said. "We must be ready for the breakthroughs wherever they may come. Do as I say. Your utility will be far greater." Alodar did not wait for a reply but swung his eyes to the small fire under the bottle on the left. In an instant, he willed his presence through the flame. A sparkle of light, no bigger than a firefly, danced before him.

"You make a great error, master," a tiny voice whined. "Even the most immature imp has powers which are great compared to mine. Why, since my hatching, only the wizard Maxwell on another world has even bothered with my summoning."

"Into the glove," Alodar ordered. "There is no time for wordy quibble." He picked up the bellows and ran to the wagon. As he climbed aboard, the spark of light followed and disappeared into the interior of the contraption in his hand.

"To what position?" Grengor asked, slapping the reins against the horses' backs. "I would think that the nomads on the east will most need whatever help we can offer."

"Cedric says that stopping the first penetration, no matter where it occurs, is most important," Alodar replied. "No one can aggressively hold a line if he feels his backside threatened. And if the enemy is halted once, they will be less bold a second time. Now silence, I must concentrate on where it will be."

Alodar looked back at the line. The battle surged forward and back. In the center, as men fell on either side, those behind moved up to fill in the gap. Cedric's forces buckled and bowed, alternately retreating among the pikes or pushing the attackers back into the lake. The struggles of the barbarians gradually diffused into an unstructured melee, each nomad fighting alone, whipping his sword in all directions in vengeance for his fallen comrades. With each passing minute, they thinned and weakened, but the confusion they caused on the other side was as great as their own, and no advantage immediately could be taken.