Tanza (19 page)

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Authors: Amanda Greenslade

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: Tanza
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I scrunched the corner of my mouth and muttered, ‘Sounds like a grand waste of time.’

‘If that’s how you feel, perhaps Krii will show you a better way to use your gifts,’ Jaalta replied demurely.

‘How much longer do we have to wait?’ somebody from behind me asked. Other voices joined in question. ‘Aye, when do we move to help Condii?’

‘The shroud is ready,’ I announced to nobody in particular.

Tyba turned back to the map he had been studying. A number of writing tools littered the table, reed pens and quill pens among them.

‘Soon, maybe this afternoon.’

‘Maybe?’ Major A.S. Abirim asked.

‘The Zeikas have been playing cat and mouse with Condii,’ Tyba replied smoothly. ‘We believe they may be hoping we’ll draw fighters away from Lantaid, which will leave it exposed.’

I looked at him sharply. ‘Prince Tyba, exactly what size force are we facing?’

He sighed and looked up at the gathering crowd. Most of the Anzaii in the strike force were present now. Captain Dathan stood near Tyba with his arms folded and a grim expression on his face.

Tyba cleared his voice and spoke more loudly. ‘It is believed that the Zeikas have superior fighting forces to ours. They have divided their armies and broken through the barrier in multiple places around our border.’

The noise around the camp dulled down and all turned to hear what Prince Tyba had to say.

It was his Sleffion-kin, Amadeus, who spoke next. ‘There were very few survivors from Lokshole and Lander’s Bay. The Zeikas leave only a small regiment, of about 1000 men in captured towns. There has been word on the waves that around 10,000 Zeikas are on the move from Lander’s Bay to Highford.’

Tyba leaned on his skyearl and held his own chest for a moment.

‘There is even worse news,’ he said. ‘It has been coming to Amadeus and I for some time now, but we didn’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily when there’s nothing we can do…’

Ciera listened from afar through me.

Tyba cleared his throat. ‘The Sunbark Cities have confirmed the warning from their scouts that around 24,000 Zeikas are closing on their position. The Zeikas seemed to have gained entry through the barrier somewhere near Fireflow Mountain and were camped in the forest between there and Zoen.’

‘Then send the Defenders from Lantaid and New Rosenvale to assist them!’ someone shouted.

From the maps I had seen it would be days before either contingent could reach the Sunbark Cities, and they were among the most vulnerable cities in Tanza. With their fire-magic, Zeikas could rain destruction on The Sunbark Cities, as most of the buildings were made of wood and suspended in the trees. Zeikas, on their dragons, could even drop fire-brands on the cities from above the canopy, out of their defensive archery range.

‘Even if reinforcements could get there in a useful amount of time,’ Tyba replied, ‘the combined total of warriors in Lantaid and New Rosenvale is only 11,500. My father is in direct communication with the commanders in all of our cities. It has been decided that if war threatens our more vulnerable towns, they will be shrouded and their populations evacuated to the closest fortified towns.’

‘And sire, what are we doing?’ Jett asked boldly. ‘Naltoch and I have friends in Condii and they say things are looking bad.’

Tyba gestured at Furlorny and said, ‘We await the signal from Condii to move the shroud and the Anzaii in. When that happens, the Anzaii will be dispelling the Zeikas’ conjurations as fast as possible, then we’ll move the shroud back, have a rest and do it all over again. In the meantime, learn all you can from the Chief Architect here about defending the city.’

‘Thank you sire, aye, that’s the plan,’ Furlorny said. He glanced at me. ‘Are you up for it Astor?’

‘I already feel like I know it and I’ve never even been there,’ I replied, ‘Two of the Rada-kin imprinted me with their knowledge of Condii.’

He laughed, patted me on the back and said, ‘That’ll be a good start! Now listen up everyone for the human perspective. There are 30 towers around the borders of Condii city, plus six at the main gate and six at the keep, making it one of the most fortified cities in Tanza. The curtain wall encloses the entire city and is three paces thick with a sloped inner passage closer to the outer edge from which arrows can be fired at various heights.

‘There are only six places to get into the passage from the inside and mechanisms are in place to block those off if the thinner outer layer of the wall is breached. Archers and spear-throwing skyearls are stationed at every tower and at the tops of the walls. The Zeikas attack from the skies on their dragons and with their conjurations so there are always squadrons of the Air Combat Group patrolling the sky above Condii.’

His descriptions went on for a long time and I did my best to match up my imprinted ‘memories’ of the city with everything he said. I finished my tea some time during the speech and obtained another. Everyone around me listened with rapt attention to the master stonemason. What surprised me most were the instructions for how we could evacuate the city if all its defences were, somehow, overrun. Furlorny was adamant that if the Zeikas gained access to the town, we must be prepared to abandon it. The idea of evacuating a town of this size would have been unthinkable in the Upper World, but they didn’t have access to flying shrouds and skyearls.

‘Otherwise, tens of thousands of civilians will perish or be put into slavery,’ he said solemnly.

The fate of Jaria was a stabbing grief in my heart but this was on a much larger scale. I resolved to adhere to the evacuation rule for Condii if it came to that. Nothing was worth saving more than people’s lives, not even this magnificent city. Perhaps after fighting Tanza for centuries the Zeikas would not expect them to flee.

‘I’ve just realised something,’ Tiaro said. ‘You no longer think of yourself as a Jarian.’

‘No, I suppose not, if Jaria is no more…’

‘Nor do you think of yourself as a Tanzan.’

‘…No.’

‘What do you fight for then, Astor?’

‘For me, this is about all Kriites,’ I said. ‘Our faith is under attack. Therefore it does not matter what realm we are from.’

‘The best way out is via shroud,’ Furlorny was saying, ‘but if necessary a few thousand people will fit in the waterways so it’s a quick enough way out of town.’

‘Let’s not dwell on that possibility,’ Tyba said. ‘The surviving scouts reported that the legion that took Lokshole is the one that now harries Condii. We have a very active Commander in Condii, S.T.R. Varal. He has spent significant resources over the past twenty years fortifying the city and equipping the Defender warriors that are stationed there.’

‘Prepare for battle everyone,’ Tyba announced. ‘We expect the signal soon, so go clean yourselves up, bandage any injuries, relieve yourselves. Do not eat or drink—sustenance will be provided if and when it is safe and convenient. Leave your belongings here; take only what you need to fight the Zeikas.’

The camp scrambled into action. I reached for Ciera and found that he was already on his way back. He was walking off his enormous tree meal. I cleaned the dust from my feet with a wet rag and put my socks and boots back on. The rest of my armour followed and Jett helped me buckle it up tight.

By the time I was ready, Ciera was waiting. He looked tired, but ready for action. The great lizard-like tail, which trailed behind him, was never stepped on despite it sometimes being in the way. A variety of Rada-kin cavorted around the grounds, stretching their muscles, sharpening their claws and play-fighting. I yearned for Rekala.

‘Krii’s blessings, my Talon,’ Rekala sent from afar.

Ciera allowed two skyearls to lift the enormous battle-seat onto his back. Next they passed half a dozen spears up to him that he secured in a metal clasp on the battle-seat. The skyearls spent some time adjusting the buckles and making sure they were tight. Under the girth, Ciera’s fur was already rubbed thin from the journey here and to the shroud creation site. I touched the large spikes that were on my shoulder guards, wondering what skyearl had shed them. Or had it been dead when they harvested its feathers and claws for human armour?

‘It is a skyearl’s honour to give its body for human protection, in life or in death,’ Ciera explained.

I nodded solemnly, thinking of the viserion. Would I be willing to die to protect others? If not, could I really be used by the Zeikas, used against all Kriites.

I wondered what it would be like to be waveraded; imprisoned within my own mind, watching helplessly as I enabled my enemies to track and kill my own people. Ciera proclaimed the willingness of skyearls to sacrifice themselves for people but could I sacrifice both him and myself to protect the waves?

‘I don’t agree with the use of life-quenching herbs either,’ Tiaro told me.

‘But what if they do capture me?’ I asked. ‘I can initiate contact with any Rada-kin or Sleffion-kin. If I concentrate really hard, I can pinpoint them in the waves and get a feel for their location in the real world. A Zeika with those abilities would not only be able to listen in on secret conversations, but would be able to find kin in the flesh.’

‘We will deal with it if it arises,’ she said, ‘but I agree, killing yourself is not the answer.’

Jett was right behind me as I patted myself down to be sure I had all my weapons. The marble-hilted knife was fastened to my calf beneath the strap for my shin plates. Fyschs was in the white scabbard at my left side, humming with readiness. Jett handed me a pair of iron daggers in sheaths and I slid them onto the Jarian belt.

Jett wore two longswords, criss-crossed on his back, a crossbow and a bolt-pouch at his side. There was a shield for each of us, a lightweight metal disk with wooden grips. I noticed Naltoch nearby, sharpening his beak on a whetstone.

When Jett and I were ready we followed Ciera to the far corner of the strike force campsite where the leaders and their guardians had gathered.

In the lead squadron there were twelve humans in all: Prince S. Tyba, Captain S.T. Dathan, myself and our aides and guardians, including Sergeant S. Corypha. I was the only Anzaii. The other Anzaii were still preparing their skyearls for battle, chanting battle-songs or meditating while their guardians put the final touches to their weapons and armour.

There was something ritualistic about the way each sword was drawn from its scabbard and sheathed again, each buckle and strap tugged and refastened, each bolt and arrow checked for cracks or splinters.

It wasn’t until I saw someone dipping their arrow-heads in a red, bubbling poison that the magnitude of what we were about to do hit me. This was a war—and a war like nothing I had ever seen. There would be no quarter, no negotiation.

Sergeant Corypha stood next to me and gazed out over the campsite where I was looking. ‘It’s us or the Zeikas, you know.’

I nodded.

‘They’ll do everything within their power to crush us,’ he went on, ‘even turn our own magic against us.’

I turned to face him, perplexed by his relentlessness. We had never spoken before, yet he was already trying to persuade me to his view. He mistook my expression for confusion.

‘Just think about it,’ he began, ‘Tyba said the Zeikas have broken through our protective barrier in more than one place. They use ritual sacrifice to do that. It’s a twisted counterpoint to the magic of Krii’s sacrifice, the sacrifice that broke the great seal. And they use it to break our barrier. How much more, then, are they able to tap our wave powers?’

I had wondered that myself, not long ago. I resettled the helmet on my head to release some pinched skin.

‘The last person I encountered with those concerns had just killed the only Anzaii that Jaria had left.’

The silence between us became deadly.

Then Corypha squeezed my arm and said, ‘I’m sorry to hear about what happened to Jaria. Is that why you came here?’

I took a deep breath and let it out again. ‘Yes—Sarlice and I came here to find help for our peoples. She is from Lyth and I am from Jaria.’

‘Ah,’ he sighed out as if he’d discovered a great truth. ‘Is she the one with red hair?’

‘Mmm,’ I mumbled.

‘I saw you with her in Centan,’ Corypha said to me with a nudge. ‘Known her for long?’

I kept my eyes down as I tried to think back over the time Sarlice and I had been travelling together.

‘We met nearly a year ago this summer,’ I replied.

‘And she’s in Centan still, isn’t she?’

I nodded. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Oh I just know how hard it is to be parted from those you love in times of war.’

I chuckled nervously, sighed to myself and muttered, ‘I hope she will go to Lantaid to escape with our Rada-kin.’

‘That might be wise,’ Corypha said, eyes widening. ‘Do let me know if you want one of the viserion packets, won’t you?’

‘Trees! Go stuff your viserion up your—’

His Sleffion-kin called him away and I was relieved my thoughts hadn’t become a reply.

Chapter Thirteen—The Many

 

A
ll too soon we were mounting up, along with the rest of the strike force. The Chief Architect and several members of his manor staff were ordered to stay behind at the camp. It didn’t surprise me that they wanted to keep a man of his genius safely away from the battlefront. Some people spoke of him as the best engineer in Tanza, a man capable of utilising the height and lifting power of the skyearls to construct anything from immense buildings and bridges to giant catapults.

Tyba waved farewell to Furlorny as Amadeus launched into the air. The great purple and orange skyearl gave a roar of anticipation and the entire strike force followed him in one immense wave of spread wings. Once we were airborne, Ciera flew ahead of the main group, buffeting them with the force of his wing beats and letting them ride his wake.

We reached the shroud and continued to fly with it trailing beneath us. Some of the smaller skyearls, not much bigger than Fleetfoot, landed on the shroud to rest and reserve their strength for the coming battle.

I hadn’t realised how close we were to the city, but we soon came upon one of the thirty towers. Five spear-skyearls were standing watch on the flat roof, the claws on their four cat-like feet clutching the wooden railings that had been installed for them. The lances they held were twice my height, with glistening red tips. There were ten humans stationed there, five of whom were the spear-skyearls’ sleffion-kin. The other five were unbound members of The Defenders, in the archery division. One of the archers cheered when she saw us. The others raised their bows in a sign of victory.

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