The Broken Isles (Legends of the Red Sun 4) (17 page)

Upwards, slowly upwards.

Low clouds vanished leaving white wisps that trailed into the distance. Sunlight materialized, bright red and disarmingly warm at times. The crest of the hill was nearby, and Fulcrom decided to
break free from his position and gallop towards it. Wind lashed his face, but he desperately wanted to get there. It seemed more important than anything.

The horizon lurched into view suddenly, the sky seemed brighter . . .

‘We made it,’ Lan said. ‘We did it.’

Eventually, the hill flattened out to a plateau; the wind picked up even more, but this time it came with a heavy coastal tang of seaweed or salty air. Down below, perhaps a good mile away from
where they were standing, the sea met the rocky shore. The surf was lively; great white waves licked their way towards land. For some distance there was nothing to see except for an old military
fortification or two, which might provide some shelter for those who needed it the most, and several vast, still rock pools. Birds were hovering on wind currents above the sea, in the deep
distance. On the downward slope there was more grass poking up beneath the melting snow, perhaps brought by warmer currents, but it was enough to make him hope the supposedly decades-long freeze
might come to a premature end.

‘What next?’ Lan asked.

Fulcrom took another deep breath of the coastal air, clearing his mind. ‘Well, I say we head down to the shore, then see about whether or not the land-vehicles can become sea-vehicles. As
for the rest – we can either hope for more help from Frater Mercury, or we can scour the coastline for old sailing vessels. None of the outriders has found anything for us yet, but I’ve
not given up hope. We really must set sail as soon as possible. We must.’

Turning his horse, Fulcrom examined the scene behind.

The closest it had been yet, the sky-city was a dark blot on the western horizon. It must have been just two or three miles from them at the most now, and from this new viewpoint its hideous
glory was exposed to its fullest.

Twice the size of before, the thing seemed born from a baroque nightmare: loosely adhering to the shape of a sphere, it was as if a moon had made itself present just above the ground. Vast
spiked pillars stuck out into the air around it and around them tiny black dots flew in slow circles – Fulcrom dreaded to think what they might be. Other structures appeared to be ribbed, or
ribs themselves partially absorbed into the surface. There were glossy, bulbous things, and the shadows of grid-like rows, perhaps resembling some strange roads or streets. There were irregular
flashes of light coming from within these hollows, containing explosions that defied logical thought. The sky itself appeared to veer away from its presence; instead of blue sky perfectly meeting
its edges, there was a darker colour, smears and stains that were perhaps emissions from the city itself.

This thing – this monstrous city – had pursued them across an island, depositing bizarre life forms to attempt to murder those it had not slaughtered already. Fulcrom was not in awe
of it any longer – he was furious at what it had done.

Beneath it, the tide of refugees flowed towards him, up the slope. The immense horses that pulled the land-vehicles came first, and he could see the vast grooves the wooden wheels had left
across the distant landscape. Even if their progress had been swifter, they weren’t exactly difficult to follow.

‘We’ve made it this far,’ he said, ‘we’ve come so close.’

‘It’s not over yet though,’ Lan said. That fierce determination had set in her eyes once again, filling him with positivity.

‘I’m scared, Lan. I seem to have become the centre of this.’ He gestured towards the refugees. ‘This isn’t what I’m used to.’

‘It’s not what any of us are used to.’

‘You’re right,’ he replied. ‘It’s just . . . what if we don’t make it? If we get away from here, then what if we perish on the seas?’

‘Then we perish knowing we damn well tried. The only other option is staying and certainly dying here, on land. We’ve come too far to do that. I refuse to, in fact. Now come on,
let’s—’ Lan jerked her gaze away at the sound.

There was a tremendous ripping noise from the west and, up in the sky, possibly directly above the rearmost of the refugees, part of the sky-city began to detach itself.

Even though it was a good distance away, Fulcrom could see one of the vast, spiked pillars separate from the main structure and lower itself to the ground slower than if it was falling
naturally. There was a strange, ambient silence now, like being in the centre of a storm. Eventually, it connected with the earth, landing like an arrowhead in what Fulcrom thought was marshy
terrain. He waited for the sound to follow, some bass shudder to denote its presence on the ground, but nothing came. Again, a lingering silence. The wind now began to change direction. Sounds
began to travel further, voices being carried on the breeze.

‘What do you suppose
that
is?’ Lan asked.

‘Nothing that comes down from that thing,’ Fulcrom said, ‘has so far been beneficial to us. I have no idea what could be next.’

The descended structure lowered its other end, so that it eventually lay flat, stark and black against the snow. Barbed and smouldering as if hot, something seemed to flip down on its right-hand
side. Out of it spilled a dark tide.

‘Warriors . . .’ Fulcrom muttered. ‘More of them. Dear
Bohr
, please, let there be no more.’

‘Is this it then?’ Lan asked. ‘Is this where the trail ends? Do we just send out the order for everyone to flee wherever they can?’

‘I don’t know,’ Fulcrom replied. ‘We’ve faced attacks before. We’ve done all right. If people just disperse, they’ll die.’

‘We’ve never faced that many – just look at those numbers. They’re filling up the whole landscape already.’

Lan wasn’t wrong. Swarms of these dark things seemed to occupy the terrain quickly; some began to take the form of orderly rows and regiments, tightly packed and intimidating.

‘It’s hard to see, but this looks like a concentrated attack,’ Fulcrom agreed. ‘There’s only one guy who can do anything about this.’

Fulcrom shouted and waved to get the attention of Frater Mercury, whose towering horse had now caught up with their own standard-sized animal. Eventually the god-thing stepped off the
horse’s back, drifted down and connected with the ground effortlessly, using one hand to stabilize himself. Frater Mercury’s half-metal face shimmered in the afternoon sun; his cloak
stirred in the onshore breeze. Fulcrom and Lan both dismounted, and then Fulcrom approached him.

I have been summoned
, the voice said in Fulcrom’s head.
Why?

‘Can’t you see?’ Fulcrom replied hesitantly, then jumped down from his horse, where he gestured to the sky-city’s latest manoeuvre. ‘They’re coming for us.
This is it for us. We’ll die right here if you can’t help.’

Frater Mercury turned his head for a moment then returned his gaze to Fulcrom. Whatever he was – if indeed he was a
he
, Fulcrom only had a priest’s word for it – Fulcrom
hoped he would be able to provide some assistance. ‘What can you do to help us?’

What would you have me do for you?

‘I’d like to see our people survive whatever is going to happen.’

We all die eventually
, Frater Mercury said.
It is a freedom, of sorts.

‘I don’t care for philosophy right now!’ Fulcrom said with irritation. ‘We’ve got tens of thousands of people coming up this slope and I want to see all of them
live a little longer. Now, do you have any idea what is going to happen?’

Yes
, Frater Mercury said.

‘What?’ Fulcrom demanded.

Slaughter is what will happen. But one gets used to it. I have seen enough for dozens of generations. I am indifferent to it.

‘I refuse to
get fucking used
to it,’ Fulcrom said despairingly. He felt Lan’s presence now, as she held his hand – a gentle, soothing touch. ‘I don’t
know what your plans are exactly, but it is
my
responsibility to get these people to safety,’ he continued, ignoring the fact that he had previously thought otherwise. ‘Can you
provide anything – anything at all – to help me do this? You’ve done it before, but this threat seems huge. Whatever you need from this world we can help you – I’ll do
my best, for what it’s worth, but please . . .’

Silence. If Frater Mercury understood Fulcrom’s words, he showed no sign of it.

‘Don’t forget, I did help to see you brought into this world. Why did you come anyway if it wasn’t to help us?’

To die
, Frater Mercury said mysteriously.
For freedom. You have seen my tricks, as you call them, and you wish for many more. Think, dear rumel, what it is like to have millions of
people demand such miracles again. It starts off very simple. The task of seeing that a child does not die of an illness.

The requests become larger after this: governments offer their allegiance if I can provide tools to create their worlds. I oblige and find myself locked in endless, endless councils and must
sit through infinite pleas for assistance. Over the millennia, war comes – on a scale which sees my creations rise up against each other – my own children fighting against each other.
The side I choose, the side of peace, is outnumbered vastly. Ultimately my children
die
. And then the world begins to end – slowly, dully, predictably, when time finally runs out. What
use is any of it? Who can tell.

I have become imprisoned by the neediness of my creations. Yes, I seek freedom, too, but I first wish to see the landscapes I helped to populate
.
I would like to know how my . . . my
work has flourished in this realm before I see to it that things are ended.

‘Your work,’ Fulcrom interrupted, ‘as you put it, is about to be fucking wiped from existence soon. Is that how you wanted to see it? If you did indeed create these things, is
this what you hoped would happen? You have the choice now to not let many of your so-called children die in a genocide. This is not dignified.’

Dying rarely is.

‘Please,’ Fulcrom said.

After a lengthy silence, Frater Mercury added,
There is an endearing persistence in your mind, rumel
,
though it is a story I have heard many times before.

‘Look, all I ask is that our people get the chance to move east across the seas,’ Fulcrom pleaded. ‘There we can seek our own military personnel or somehow organize ourselves
naturally. It at least gives us the time for a fighting chance. We didn’t ask for this,’ Fulcrom waved to the airborne threat, ‘this is something that has been brought out of
nowhere. I would not have so many people die at once. If you don’t like making decisions any more, let me make this for you.’

Frater Mercury seemed to consider these words – or that’s what Fulcrom hoped. He looked again to the swarms of the enemy that had extended so quickly and so far across the
landscape.

What would your wishes be?
Frater Mercury asked.
You who have designated yourself leader of these people. I know you feel the
burden
– it is a burden, is it not? –
so please, tell me, what do
you
first require?

Fulcrom’s heart skipped a beat. He had to think quickly. What was the most urgent thing, protection at the rear or seeing that they could leave the island?
Think, man
, he told
himself.

‘The land-vehicles,’ Fulcrom said. ‘I want them to travel through water, first, but I want more of them. I want to get all our people over this hill, down to the shore and
simply to carry on eastwards. Is there any way you can do this before it’s too late? Can we get more vehicles to do this? We need to be quick, because we both saw the power of this thing. All
we’re asking for is a little more time.’

It is possible
, Frater Mercury replied. He spun then walked down the slope.

‘Now what?’ Lan asked. She was now on foot, her arms folded in the chill of the coastal wind.

A noise in the distance, like a horn: the swarms began to move forwards at the rear of the convoy. Fulcrom could see in the clarity of the late afternoon sun how the refugees from Villjamur and
Jokull were being attacked.

‘
Now what?
’ Lan repeated. ‘What’s he going to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ Fulcrom said.

‘We should try to fight,’ Lan said. ‘Defend the people we can. See if some can escape in time – or until this Frater Mercury decides to help.’

‘You’re right,’ Fulcrom said. ‘I’ll give the order.’

They began to move towards their mare, watching the crowds begin to move past them and over the slope.

‘We’ll probably get killed before nightfall,’ Lan said nonchalantly. ‘I’m fine with that, but before that happens, I just wanted . . . I never got a chance to say
thank you – for giving me something I’ve never had before.’

Fulcrom placed a finger on her lips. ‘It isn’t a charity I’m running. I’m in love with you, Lan, or had you not noticed? Now then.’ Fulcrom placed his foot in the
stirrup and levered himself up. He offered to take Lan’s hand, even though she didn’t need it. She just tuned in to her internal powers and leapt up effortlessly.

*

After giving instructions for those at the head of the convoy to continue downhill towards Frater Mercury, Fulcrom and Lan galloped down the line, passing the miserable and
concerned faces until they met up with clusters of soldiers. Fulcrom had been careful in planning their route to navigate close to the few military installations, outposts and training camps that
were scattered throughout the wilderness. The further they travelled, the more soldiers they accumulated. Granted it had not been much, perhaps a couple of hundred troops here and there, but that
was better than nothing. Just as importantly, Fulcrom had located a few cultists who had lost most of their relics, but still clutched a few items that might come in useful – and now was just
such a time to try.

As Fulcrom and Lan dashed down the vast line, he gave the orders for any soldiers, cultists and anyone who could bear arms to follow. Those on horseback came immediately and the rest progressed
quickly on foot, brave and determined.