Healed by Hope (2 page)

2

PODHANA, SIX THOUSAND Tugars, and one thousand Pabbajja marched tirelessly through the night. Near dawn, they came within ten leagues of Avici, an impressive feat in the new chieftain’s opinion, especially considering that the Homeless People’s legs were shorter than his forearms. Or at least so he guessed. With all that hair, their
feet
weren’t even visible.

Much to the large company’s dismay, there was no sunrise. The impenetrable cloud that rushed toward them from the east fell across the sky like a blue-black blanket. If not for the Pabbajja’s magical tridents, the company would have been cast into darkness only demons could have navigated. As it was, the humming glow of the three-tined staffs only provided enough light to see for a stone’s throw beyond the main gathering. Podhana pondered what it would be like to be trapped alone in such darkness. Was this how it felt to be blind?

Holding his trident like a torch, Bruugash walked over to Podhana. “What is this darkness,
Kantaara Yodhas
? Has the sorcerer inflicted Triken with further malice?”

“I don’t believe this is the work of the sorcerer,” Podhana said. “If we’re lucky, it is the opposite. I believe
The Torgon
has played a role. In the past, I have inhaled my king’s breath. This air smells like Death Energy.”

“There is Demon Energy as well, blended in with the other,” the Pabbajja overlord said. “Yet I agree with what you say: The cloud does not feel entirely evil. Somehow we are shielded from danger.”

“Regardless of the cloud’s intent, I will continue toward the Golden City,” Podhana said. “The Tugars need the Pabbajja more than ever. Overlord, will your people light our way?”

“It would be our honor,” Bruugash said.

Now the going was slower, as it was no longer wise to run heedlessly, even with the strong bones of Iddhi-Pada beneath their feet. Podhana guessed that it was late morning before the large company stumbled first upon the roaring rage of the Ogha River and then the southern gates of Avici. What they found there amazed Podhana even more than the unnatural darkness.

3

AFTER THE BATTLE with the fiends inside the gates of Avici, things quieted down considerably, and Asēkha-Rati finally was able to take a breath. But small numbers of snarling monsters still sprang sporadically from the darkness. Rati counted groups of three, nine, four, seven, nine, and six interspersed with thirty-seven loners—all dispatched by the Tugars with their usual efficiency.

The Svakarans and Bhasurans grew restless, wanting to do something other than guard gates unchallenged from either side. Rati countered by telling the Mahaggatans that they were free to go wherever they chose, even back to the palisade at the base of Uccheda. But the Tugars would not follow. Though Rati still believed it possible that Laylah was trapped inside the edifice, he knew that it would be suicide to attempt to enter a tower that several hundred thousand monsters still surrounded.

“Help is on the way,” Rati said to them all, not entirely believing it himself, but knowing that additional assistance was their only hope of assaulting the stronghold of the sorcerer.

Gorlong pounded the tail of his trident on the golden wall walk, casting angry sparks. “The leader of the
Kantaara Yodhas
speaks the truth,” the Pabbajja said. “Help
is
on the way, and I sense that it includes a large company of my own people.”

“We will wait only until dawn,” a Svakaran warlord said.

Rati shrugged. “I do not presume to command you or your people.”

All through the night they lingered by the southern gates. There was no shortage of food and wine, as many of the nearby homes and businesses were well-stocked. Rati reluctantly permitted half-a-dozen fires to be built near the banks of the river, where they quickly could be extinguished. But even then, no more of the enemy appeared.

As morning approached, the fires burned out, and almost everyone went to sleep, some on the wall walk, some on the stairs, and the rest along the base of the bulwark. The Tugars did not sleep, choosing instead to meditate with open eyes, which in many ways was more rejuvenating to their bodies than slumber. In the meantime, they remained alert to anyone who might attempt to accost the company.

Rati watched with amusement as Tew and Dhītar snuck into a storeroom on the wall walk and locked the door. When they finally emerged, both looked worse for wear, except for the weary smiles on their faces.

Rati anticipated the arrival of dawn with a combination of hopefulness and dread. At least in the light they would be able to see long distances from the top of the towering bridge, revealing both the city to the north and a long stretch of Iddhi-Pada to the south. However, he and the others also would be more visible to the enemy.

When the black cloud unexpectedly chewed its way across the sky, this amazed Rati as much as anyone. The moon and stars vanished, and it became so dark that the Asēkha could not see his hand in front of his face. For a few scary moments, Gorlong’s trident was the only illumination, but then Maynard Tew approached with a torch and showed the Tugars where they could find more. In a short time, several hundred torches were mounted along the wall walk in iron ringlets; yet the firelight barely dented the darkness.

“Asēkha, from whence came this eternal night?” Silah said. “Is the sorcerer responsible?”

“I am reminded of Dammawansha’s vision,” Rati said to the female Tugarian warrior. “The High Monk said to me: ‘There will be only darkness, as deep as nothingness.’ Somehow, though, it does not feel evil to me.”

Rati guessed that another bell passed before he began to hear the cacophony of eerie sounds coming from the interior of the city. At first it reminded him of the madness of Kauha, and he felt as if he again were stranded inside the swamp. But then the sounds grew louder and more horrific. When he heard screams coming from the Mahaggatans at the base of the wall, Rati realized what had occurred. The fiends, all of them, had broken free of the palisade and were attacking en masse.

“Close the gates—and flee!” Rati shouted to the Tugars who had been stationed near the elaborate mechanisms at the base of the wall.

A few of the Svakarans and Bhasurans were able to slip through the gates before they clanked shut. The rest—along with the Tugars—escaped over the side of the bulwark on rope ladders, which were then set on fire. All told, only about three hundred, including Gorlong, Tew, Dhītar, and all the Tugars—survived the surprise assault. Now they stood in the darkness on the outside of the Golden Wall as tens of thousands of fiends pressed against the metal gates, howling and snarling. Other fiends clambered up the steps and cast themselves off the wall walk, but they splattered when they hit the ground. Eventually the rest stopped jumping.

Without warning, a series of booming sounds erupted from somewhere within the inner city. This seemed to further enrage the fiends, who pressed even harder against the metal grating. But the gates had been designed to forestall an invading army—and they held.

Rati wasn’t sure what to do next. Since arriving at the border of Kauha, he and his Tugars had been besieged. A part of him felt that it was his responsibility to make sure the fiends did not escape Avici and wreak havoc on the rest of the world. But he also knew that he did not have nearly the strength to stop them, if they were to somehow find a way out.

Then, the help they had long hoped for suddenly appeared.

When Podhana and his large company arrived, Rati felt like jumping for joy. If there had been enough light, he would have been compelled to rush around and count every one of the new arrivals. Instead, he had to take Podhana’s word for their numbers.

When the Asēkha informed Rati of his ascension to chieftain, Rati instantly assumed obeisance.

“What now, chieftain?” he said.

“We must find a way to kill all the fiends,” Podhana said.

“But there are scores beyond even my count,” Rati said. “Killing that many will be next to impossible—and the darkness makes matters more difficult.”

“We number six thousand Tugars and a thousand Pabbajja,” Podhana said. “We will suffice.”

A pair of Homeless People came forward, each bearing a glowing trident. Rati recognized Gorlong, whose hair was filthier and more tangled than the others, but he did not know his companion. Podhana introduced him as Bruugash, high overlord of the Pabbajja. Even Gorlong was subservient to him.

“
Kantaara Yodhas
, the Pabbajja have a plan, if you would listen,” Bruugash said. Then he gestured toward his companion. “It was Gorlong who first conceived it.”

“You are too kind, overlord,” Gorlong said.

“Truth is truth,” Bruugash said.

“If you have a plan, it is one more than I possess,” Podhana said.

Bruugash’s eyes wobbled. “The Pabbajja have suffered much. Gorlong has informed me that many score of my people perished in the swamp.”

“I was witness to this tragedy,” Rati said. “A great number fell in Kauha, including the queen of Nissaya and the black knights who accompanied her. Of the Pabbajja, only Gorlong managed to survive.”

“One is better than none,” Bruugash said. “Still, our losses weigh heavy on our hearts. And they have made us even more bitter and vengeful. Nothing would please us more than to play a role in the destruction of the blasphemies that are massed within the gates of Avici.”

“Of those among us, only the Svakarans and Bhasurans—along with a Senasanan countess and her companion—are vulnerable to the bite of the fiends,” Rati said. “But the sheer weight of their numbers could cause serious harm. When the
Kantaara Yodhas
did battle with the fiends in Tējo, there was concern that individual Tugars could be trampled and smothered. The monsters are not entirely mindless.”

“You are correct when you say that the Pabbajja are in no danger of transformation, though we can be damaged in other ways,” Bruugash said. “But Gorlong’s plan should enable us to destroy large numbers without too much risk.”

Podhana and Rati listened carefully. A short while later, they and the other Asēkhas ascended the grated gates by hand, each holding a small torch between their teeth. When they reached the wall walk, an angry swarm of fiends met them. The torches provided barely enough light to see for a few cubits, but each Asēkha had trained for thousands of hours in deep darkness and knew how to fight blindly. They spread out just far enough to be in no danger of each other’s blades, and then methodically dispatched the fiends as they made their way down an inner stairwell toward the mechanisms that worked the gate on the eastern side of the river. Podhana and the Asēkhas formed a partial ring around Rati, who’d already become accustomed to the intricate mechanical workings of the device.

The gate swung open just a crack.

Rati rushed through. Podhana and the others followed. Standing shoulder to shoulder less than a stone’s throw from the near bank were the Pabbajja, their tridents aimed toward the river like glowing pikes. The Asēkhas sprinted along the edge of the river until they came to the end of the line of Pabbajja, then turned and watched as a stream of fiends poured through the opening of the gate and trundled along the riverbank only a few feet from the water’s edge.

The Pabbajja waited until at least a thousand of the monsters had made it through the opening before unleashing their power. Magic from their tridents blew outward like dragon fire, setting the fiends aflame. Some burst asunder while others tumbled into the river, where they would be battered to pieces on razor-sharp stones. Tugars rushed in from behind the Pabbajja and cast slews of ruined bodies into the raging currents.

Soon after, a thousand more fiends met the same fate. Rati feared that the monsters would comprehend their danger and refuse to exit through the gates. But the fiends that loomed behind the others did not have a clear view of what was occurring, and they were not able to sense the full extent of the danger.

More and more monsters met their doom, falling like dry grass succumbing to flame. Rati estimated that in a bell’s time, the Pabbajja had killed an amazing five thousand score. But it was taking a terrible toll. The Homeless People were weary, and their fire was growing less lethal. A few even collapsed from exhaustion. Rati and a hundred Tugars were finally forced to call a halt to the slaughter and slam the gates shut from the outside, bracing them with boulders so that no more fiends could pass through the narrow opening. Afterward, the great among them gathered to assess what had been accomplished—and at what cost.

Bruugash leaned against his trident, white clouds puffing from his mouth in the increasingly chilly air. “They are too many,” the overlord said. “And we are too weary. We must rest for at least a day before we can expend such energy again.”

“How many do you think are left?” Podhana said to Rati.

“At least twice as many as were slain, which was no small number.”

Gorlong’s eyes wobbled even more than usual. “I am sorry,
Kantaara Yodhas
. My plan has failed.”

Podhana smiled, then patted the Pabbajja on the crown of his hairy head. “You did anything but fail. The enemy has been reduced. And now you have given me an idea.” Then he looked at Bruugash. “It is the Tugars’ turn to wreak havoc. I know that you are exhausted, but does enough of your strength remain to manage light instead of fire?”

“Despite our weariness, I believe that this can still be done,” the overlord said.

When the boulders were removed and the gate swung open again, more fiends poured through the breach. But instead of incineration from the Pabbajja’s tridents, they met the wicked blades of the Tugars. In the dim glow the weary Pabbajja provided,
uttaras
flashed and gleamed.

The fiends came on, heedless of the danger. The desert warriors threw the corpses into the river as quickly as they were slain. The Ogha, ever hungry, carried them away. The wide and powerful river did not clog. Body parts, bloated and hideous, would probably be found along the banks for weeks to come, attracting every form of scavenger. But none of the horrid
undines
would survive. When the host body was destroyed, the demonic worms also perished.

Despite having had little food or sleep for several days, the Tugars did not tire, so supreme was their endurance. Rati took forty-nine heads before trading places with another warrior to play the role of street cleaner, dragging countless bodies and tossing just as many heads into the water. Still the fiends came, foaming at the mouth like rabid dogs. But though their numbers were stupendous, they were not infinite—and with each of the six thousand Tugars killing dozens apiece, the stream of fiends lessened until it became just a trickle.

And finally . . . nothing.

Pools of blood, gore, and dead worms, in places more than ankle deep, were splattered along the riverbank for half a mile or more. Rati found a lighted torch, propped it in a crevice between two rocks, and then splashed water on his face. Podhana knelt beside him in the dim firelight and did the same.

“How many fell?” Podhana finally asked him.

“Most but not all,” Rati said. “Some of the fiends must have wandered elsewhere. It’s possible . . . probable . . . that tens of thousands are still wandering the streets of Avici—or elsewhere within the Golden Wall. There is a wide expanse of land between Avici and Kilesa.”

“Can any escape beyond the wall? That would not be a good thing.”

“I would think not, but who really knows?”

Podhana sat on his haunches and sighed. From this short distance, Rati could barely recognize his face in the darkness. “You say there is food and wine aplenty inside the gate?” he said hopefully.

“More than enough for many drunken feasts,” Rati said. “Still, an important task remains, does it not?”

“Uccheda . . . I know. But if we are to assault the tower, we will need all our strength. I have no idea what time of day it is, but I believe it is far past dawn. Even Tugars need sustenance and rest. I do not remember the last time I slept more than a few moments.”

“If Laylah is imprisoned in the tower, every moment she spends in Uccheda will be equal to a lifetime of horrors.”

Podhana sighed. “I have witnessed the sorcerer’s powers first-hand.
The Torgon
saw them too and ordered the Asēkhas and Tugars to flee, knowing that we would be helpless against him. If Invictus holds Laylah in the tower, we lack the might to rescue her.”