Darknesses (23 page)

Another
swath of blue flame swept across the open area of black stone, catching one
Lanachronan trooper. Alucius wondered what the man had been doing out in the
open, but it certainly wasn’t the time to ask.

Alucius
was ready as the next pteridon swooped. While his troopers were firing at the
nomads—and keeping them from gaining the open ledge—he aimed at the pteridon’s
head. Again, while he
knew
he had struck the beast,
there was no sign of any wound. His second shot slammed through the rider.

Once
more…the same thing happened. The pteridon reclaimed the blue metallic lance
and wheeled back toward the nomads’ camp.

For
a time, there was an uneasy quiet across Black Ridge. No more nomads appeared
at the edge of the ledge.

The
nomads couldn’t have decided to withdraw. It was barely midmorning, and they
far outnumbered the defenders.

As
he reloaded, Alucius considered. Unless they could stop the pteridons, they
were doomed. They might be anyway, but it was certain with the blue beasts.
Repelling bullets the way they had…that meant that they were certainly
Talent-creatures. What would work against Talent? He’d been so rushed that he hadn’t
really thought.

The
purple crystal of the Matrial had repelled bullets and sabres, and only the
sense of darkness that lay beneath the lifewebs had helped there. But he
couldn’t get close to the pteridons, not against the blue flame that came from
the metallic skylances. Could he somehow create that shell of darkness around a
bullet that he fired? The way he had enveloped the crystal in darkness?

He
concentrated on wrapping darkness around the bullet of the cartridge in the
heavy rifle’s chamber. Then, rifle in hand, he eased out from the stable
archway.

“Sir…there’s
one of those beasts…”

Alucius
turned, seemingly in slow motion, toward the pteridon that dropped out of the
sky toward the ledge, although it felt as though the blue-winged monster was headed
straight toward him. The rifle came up, and he fired, concentrating on both aim
and a last infusion of that lifedarkness into the cold lead of the bullet.

The
pteridon wobbled in the air.

Alucius
recocked the rifle and fired again—and then again.

A
thin shriek—piercing—filled the air, and the beast literally cartwheeled out of
the sky, crashing somewhere against the trail below.

“Sir!”

Alucius
bolted back toward the stable as a line of blue fire seared across the black
rock of the post. Within moments after the pteridon sailed over the empty
expanse of black rock between the sandstone cliff and the ledge overlooking the
grasslands below, a single rider galloped around the edge of the cliff and made
for the stable entrance.

Alucius
stepped out from the archway just far enough to fire at the next pteridon.
Obviously, he hadn’t concentrated on the darkness enough, because, although the
pteridon wobbled as it passed, it continued onward. He reloaded quickly, then
turned to the scout.

Waris
had had to flatten himself against the bay’s neck to ride into the stable
archway, and he immediately dismounted.

“What
did you find?” Alucius asked.

“The
Deforyans…there’s no sign of them.” Waris gasped. “Deuyrn’s still out…checking
the west approaches. Lucky…there’s a canyon to the east…nomads have to travel
another six, seven vingts before they can circle around. Terrain’s rough…might
take till tomorrow.”

Alucius
looked out through the archway. Three pteridons were headed directly north,
aimed directly at the stable. “Everyone back! Back as far as you can go!”

Alucius
lifted the first rifle, forcing himself to concentrate on two things—the lead
pteridon’s head, and darkness, and more darkness, cast within the bullet in the
chamber. He fired, then switched his aim to the second flying monster. He fired
twice.

Both
pteridons fell, one just as if its wings had collapsed, the other cartwheeling
and slamming into the section of the ridge edge where the ill-fated squad of
the Twenty-third Company had been incinerated.

Alucius
felt, as much as saw, the line of blue flame arcing toward him, and he sprinted
and dived behind the archway of the stable.

Flame
flared above him, and for a moment, he felt as though he had been in an oven,
but as it passed he rolled and brought the rifle back to bear, but the pteridon
was out of range.

“He
veered off to the west,” Longyl said. “You all right?”

“So
far.”

“How
did you manage—”

“Aimed
for their eyes,” Alucius half lied. He
had
aimed for
their eyes.

“Look!”
yelled one of the troopers.

In
spite of himself, Alucius did. The enormous bulk of the pteridon that had
fallen on the ledge just above the trailhead had burst into a bluish flame,
like the bursts from the metallic skylances. After a moment, Alucius focused
his Talent senses on the blazing creature. He moistened his lips. Behind the
blueness was the same evil pink-purple sense that he had felt with the
Matrial’s torques and with the purple crystal that had linked them.

“Back!”
he shouted. “Down.”

He
barely had flattened himself around the corner of the archway when the pteridon
exploded, sending waves of heat across the ledge and into the stable.

Alucius
scrambled and found the rifle he had been using, then handed it to Longyl.
“Have someone clean it.” He recovered his second weapon and eased forward
toward the arch.

Waves
of blue flame crossed the ledge, but none were within thirty yards of the
stable entrance. Alucius looked out with Talent-senses and -eyes.

The
remaining pteridons—six of them—were circling overhead, but trying to stay far
enough north so that no one could fire at them from the entrance to the
corridors. That meant that the lances couldn’t reach all the way to the
sandstone cliff. Alucius smiled grimly, easing out of the stone archway.

“Sir…”

“Just
have some of the squad ready to shoot if any nomads stick their heads up over
the ledge,” Alucius ordered. He eased farther out, then raised the rifle,
waiting.

Crack!

Darkness
and bullet meshed, and another pteridon’s wings folded, but Alucius could not
see where the beast fell.

Abruptly,
the five remaining pteridons began to circle higher, then head southward.

“Twenty-first
Company to the edge of the ledge!” Alucius snapped. “Now! Longyl! Send out
scouts along the trail! We’ll need a warning if the nomads manage to cross over
that canyon or get around it.”

Without
waiting for an answer, he began to sprint forward. If they could just hold the
nomads there, and it was possible—without the pteridons…

Less
than fifty yards down the trail another company of nomads was approaching. Alucius
flattened himself against the ground and began to fire.

Within
moments, others were beside him and firing. Longyl slid in beside Alucius and
handed him the second rifle. “Thought you’d need this, sir.”

“Thank
you.”

“Thank
you, sir.”

Perhaps
a glass passed, with bodies of men and mounts growing on the trail below,
before the remaining nomads began to retreat from the exposed position against
the withering fire.

Alucius
watched for almost a glass before he eased away, then stood and called out,
“Fifth Company! To the ledge! Relieve Twenty-first Company!”

“Fifth
Company! Forward!” Feran’s voice rang out.

Alucius
slipped over to Longyl. “Get the men fed and let them rest. But make sure all
their weapons are reloaded and that they replenish their cartridge belts.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“I
need to find Majer Draspyr.”

Before
he went looking for the majer, as the companies changed places, Alucius studied
the glasslands below Black Ridge. The nomads were setting up another camp, less
than a vingt from the base of the trail up to Black Ridge. Alucius looked to
the southwest, but he could see no more pteridons.

With
a deep breath, he began to walk toward the officers’ section, still carrying
both rifles, and the conference room.

Majer
Draspyr stood in the stone archway that led outside from the conference room.
He looked evenly at Alucius. “Overcaptain…you and your men killed four of those
monsters and disabled two—”

“The
two will be back,” Alucius said tiredly. “We killed their riders, but that
doesn’t stop them.” Then he added, “I sent out scouts. One returned. The
Deforyans have retreated, and the nomads are working to encircle us. They
probably can’t manage it today, but they might tonight or tomorrow.”

“I
was warned about the Deforyans,” Draspyr said. “It’s hard to believe…they’d
just turn and run.”

“They
believe the mountains will stop the nomads, and, if they don’t, they’d rather
fight defending what they think is valuable.”

“You
can’t defend Dereka. It’s too open.” Draspyr shook his head. “I must
congratulate you, Overcaptain. Your leadership under fire is commendable.”

“Thank
you, sir.” Alucius didn’t feel like pointing out that his leadership had been
slow, his understanding of the situation slower, and only the Talent-skills he
had almost failed to use had held off the nomads. “We’ll have to do better.
Much better.”

“Do
you think we should withdraw?”

Common
sense screamed, “YES!” Alucius considered as he spoke. “That would be my first
reaction, sir. We can’t stay here for long, not without support. But there’s no
water on the way back, except at the waystations, and the nearest of those is
more than two days away. And then, too, the nomads are headed that way, and
they might well get there before we do. The Deforyans didn’t take the wagons
with them, and that means we have ample provisions for a while whatever we do.
I think we need to see where things stand.”

Alucius
was also speaking on feel. For some reason, the idea of an immediate retreat to
Dereka felt wrong. Very wrong. He just wished he knew why, because he also knew
they couldn’t stay long at Black Ridge.

“Then
you and I should take a short ride,” Draspyr said. “With a squad or so, of
course. We can see what we might do before we decide.”

Alucius
nodded. “That might be best.” He hoped it was.

I
n
the late afternoon,
Alucius and the majer rode northward along the
narrow trail, with two scouts from fourth squad well ahead, and Egyl and the
remainder of fourth squad immediately following. Majer Draspyr had left one
squad from Twenty-third Company mounting guard on the trail where it left Black
Ridge.

Alucius
studied the road and the terrain around it carefully. For the first half vingt
north of Black Ridge the trail clung to the mountainside, a ledge generally
less than two yards wide in most places, cut out of the sheer stone. While the
nomads could not move many men along it at once, the problem was that there was
also no real cover for the defenders, and even if they erected a barricade, the
best that they could hope for was a standoff, and in the end, they would be
overwhelmed when they ran out of ammunition or were starved out. Alucius was
looking for better than that.

“Be
hard for them to move along here,” Draspyr pointed out.

“I’d
like to see if there’s a place where we could use more firepower, and they would
be just as exposed,” Alucius replied.

The
next section of trail was through a steep cut in the sandstone where the trail
widened to almost three yards. While Alucius might have been able to place some
snipers above, they would be totally exposed to the pteridons, and there was
room for only a comparative handful.

They
covered another half vingt, and then another, the trail returning to its
previous narrowness and winding upward and clinging to steep cliffs.

As
they rounded yet another curve, Alucius looked at the area ahead. The trail
went west, then curved eastward, winding back around a low promontory that
jutted out into the canyon on the east. The top of the promontory, a stony
ridge, was gradual enough that either horses or men could climb it, and less
than a hundred yards to the west, the sandstone rose into another cliff wall,
arching out in a way that would be difficult for the pteridons to attack
effectively.

“That
might be promising,” Alucius suggested. “We’ll have to see.”

Draspyr
looked at Alucius, but didn’t say anything.

“Where
that juts out, it’s an easy climb to the top, with cover there from this side.
I’m going to climb up and see whether what sort of angle it has on the trail to
the north.”

“This
is quite a ways north of Black Ridge,” Draspyr pointed out.

“It
is, but there’s no way they can get behind us.”

The
majer didn’t reply as they rode around the curve toward the promontory.

Once
they reached the spot Alucius had mentally marked, one of the spots where the
trail widened enough for turns or passage, he lifted his arm. “Patrol halt!” He
dismounted and handed Wildebeast’s reins to Egyl. “Hope this won’t take long.”
Carrying one of his rifles, he started up the sloping sandstone. Although he
skidded and slipped several times, before long he was at the top, where he
looked northward.

From
there, he could see almost all of the next stretch of trail, which curved
westward once more, then back eastward—giving a long field of fire for any
troopers on the top of the promontory. At the end of the promontory, where the
road made a sharp curve, it was narrow enough that one of the Deforyan wagons,
turned on its side and filled with rocks, would provide enough of an obstacle
to keep riders from charging or jumping it. Another wagon, placed farther
north, could also slow the nomads and make them more vulnerable to fire.

Alucius
looked northward again.

A
single rider in the colors of the Northern Guard rode southward on the trail,
occasionally looking over his shoulder. Even from a distance, Alucius recognized
Dueryn. He called down. “We’ve got a scout returning! Looks like Dueryn. Have
him wait for me.”

As
Dueryn rode toward the patrol, Alucius kept checking, to see just how exposed
any riders would be. Except for one stretch of about twenty yards, the
sandstone rampart of the promontory would provide a good location from which to
defend the road, and a good two squads could fire on the exposed road from a
shielded position.

With
a nod to himself, Alucius started down the sandstone, carefully. He was mounted
and still had to wait for Dueryn.

“Sir?
Didn’t expect to find you out here.”

“Did
you locate the nomads?”

“Yes,
sir. The canyon here on the east…it goes ahead another ten vingts or so, and
then just almost stops. They’ve set up a camp just on the east of a narrow
ridge that joins the road. They could cross that to the road tonight, or maybe
in the morning. On the west…” The scout gave a ragged laugh. “There’s a deep
gorge. It must go for twenty vingts if not more. There’s no way they’ll get
across on that side.”

“There’s
no way we could get past them?” asked the majer.

“Not
on this trail, sir,” Dueryn. “From the ridge, they could fire down on the road
with at least three companies, maybe more, and we’d be in single file. They
could also charge across at us.”

Draspyr
nodded as if he hadn’t expected any other answer. He looked at Alucius. “We’ll
need to send a company out here as soon as we get back.”

“Third
Company,” Alucius suggested. “We’ll have to rotate some, though.” He turned to
Egyl. “Leave a pair of scouts here until we can send out a company.”

“Yes,
sir.” The squad leader turned. “Feshyn and Dorayn! You’re to watch the road
until relieved. Any nomads come this way, you get moving and warn us.”

Alucius
remained at the rear of the column, as did the majer, while the riders eased
their mounts back around on the narrow trail.

“You
think the nomads will attack?” asked Draspyr.

“Don’t
you, sir?” Alucius replied.

“From
what I’ve seen, they will. It doesn’t look good.”

“No,”
Alucius admitted. He had some ideas, but he wasn’t ready to say anything,
especially to the majer. Not yet.

The
rest of the ride back to Black Ridge was quiet, and in the early evening, the
cooks had supper for both officers and troopers, although there had to be two
shifts, in order to relieve the troopers guarding the ledge and the trail up
from the grasslands.

After
the evening meal, Alucius gathered the scouts from both Fifth and Twenty-first
Companies in the conference room. “Here’s the problem. We can probably hold
Black Ridge so long as we have ammunition and food. But every day we stay here,
there will be more nomads behind us, and no one is coming out to rescue us.
Dueryn says that on the west side of the trail, there’s no way for the nomads
to reach us. What I want you to find out is whether there’s any other way,
probably to the west, that will bring us back to the main trail north of the
nomads. It sounds impossible, but this entire trail was cut on purpose. I have
a hard time believing that whoever cut it didn’t have another way out of here.”

Looks
passed between Waris and another scout.

“I’d
like you to leave as soon as you can see in the morning. You won’t do us any
good falling off a cliff at night. That’s all.”

Once
the scouts had left the room, Alucius walked out to the end of the ledge where
two squads of Eleventh Company were stationed. Two squads were more than enough
to hold the ledge for long enough to summon the other three squads, and that
way, more of the men could get some rest during what might be a long siege.

Out
of the growing darkness, Koryt stepped toward him. “What do you think?”

“They
could attack tonight, or tomorrow or the next day, or anytime in between. I
don’t see them leaving us alone.”

“Neither
do I,” replied the captain.

“You’ve
got your troopers well placed. We’ll be here if they do.”

Koryt
nodded.

Alucius
returned the gesture and headed for his quarters. He thought he ought to try to
get some sleep.

Feran
looked up from where he lay on his bunk as Alucius entered the dark quarters.
“Anything changed?”

“Not
yet. The nomads are still down there, and everywhere else.”

“They’ll
attack tonight. They were building up fires.”

“Look
who’s the cheerful one now.”

“Get
some sleep,” Feran suggested, rolling over.

Alucius
wondered if he would sleep well—or at all—even after he stretched out on his
bunk and could feel his eyes close.

He
had barely drifted into sleep when distant shots echoed down the sandstone
corridor, and he bolted upright in the narrow bed.

“Attack!
All officers and companies forward!”

Alucius
yanked on his boots and grabbed both rifles and the ammunition belt. Feran was
close behind him.

Once
outside, Alucius could hear shots passing well overhead as he made his way to
where Twenty-first Company was forming up in the darkness, just forward of the
barracks area of the sandstone cliff. Fifth Company was forming just to the
west of Twenty-first Company. Again, Alucius was grateful for the night vision
that allowed him to see as if it were only early twilight. He frowned. What
about the pteridons? Could they see or fly at night?

He
cast out his Talent-senses…but he could find no sign of the flying creatures.

“Twenty-first
Company, ready, sir!” Longyl snapped.

“Thank
you, Longyl.” Alucius barked out the orders. “Twenty-first Company! By squad!
From the eastern end!” Then he walked toward Feran. “You ready to take the
middle section?”

“We’ll
do it.” Feran raised his voice. “Fifth Company, middle section!”

“Stay
low as you near the edge!” Alucius called out. “Low!”

He
watched as the troopers ran, then crawled into position to reinforce the two
squads of Eleventh Company. The firing from below became stronger. Alucius
checked the skies once more, with eyes and Talent. Still no pteridons.

Alucius
sprinted forward and eased his way into a prone position beside a trooper—Ryem,
he recalled.

“Sir?”

“Just
keep your eyes on the nomads, Ryem.” Alucius took aim on one of the lead
nomads, less than fifty yards down the trail, then fired.

A
sheet of rifle fire sprayed across the narrow trail, already littered with bodies,
mostly of men, rather than mounts, indicating to Alucius that the attackers had
attempted the assault in stealth and on foot.

Under
the intensity of fire by the defenders, the nomads either fell or fell back.
How many Alucius had shot, he had no idea, only that he had been effective, but
in the darkness, no one would know, and that was certainly for the best.

After
a half glass of silence, Alucius eased back away from the ledge and stood.
“Twenty-first Company…back to barracks!”

“Fifth
Company…” echoed Feran.

“Eleventh
Company…” came from Koryt. “Fourth and fifth squads, hold. First, second, third
squads, back to barracks until the next watch…”

Alucius
paused, waiting until the troopers passed him. He looked up into the night sky,
still puzzled by an attack without the pteridons. Was it too difficult to fly
in darkness, or was there some other reason? As he pondered, his eyes took in
the greenish half-disc of Asterta, the moon of war and of the horse goddess.
Did the nomads feel she favored them? Did it matter? He wondered how many more
attacks there might be—and whether there really was another way out of Black
Ridge. He hoped the scouts could find one, even as he considered, fitfully, how
they might be able to attack and evade the nomad hordes.