The Storm's Own Son (Book 1) (19 page)

Close behind the heavy cavalry were a group of officers with plumes, high crests, and gilded breastplates, and
with them horsemen carrying the banners of several towns and cities. One man in particular caught Talaos's notice. He wore a sort of tabard over his armor, decorated with what looked in the distance like circular sigils, a silver band around his head, and a long silver wand at his belt in place of a sword. His horse had small saddlebags of complex design.

Talaos had seen men like that before, and it boded ill for the upcoming battle. Magus.

Following the command group was a small baggage train of light unarmored pack horses, and then a long line, the main body of light cavalry in chain shirts, or leather reinforced with plates. Most had oval shields and long spears. Last of all, trailing by perhaps a quarter mile, were another half dozen scouts. As the last of the enemy army dwindled under clouds of dust, Talaos motioned his men close.

"They should be coming in sight of our lines
at the pass any time now, and they'll have a decision to make. You know what options they'd usually have, and it is our job to make those options harder. But, they also have an option we didn't know," he said.

Expressions grew tense.

"They have a magus with them in the command group."

Several men
groaned.

"A Magus?" asked Halmir.

"A sorcerer, someone who has learned to work magic through study," answered Talaos.

"Ah. We have
a few who do things like that. This is a problem," replied Halmir.

"Part of the problem is not knowing what exactly he can do," continued Talaos, "beyond that he's riding with an army, and so it's probably useful in battle."

"Well let's go kill the goatsucker before he gets the chance to show us!" snapped Kyrax.

"
Exactly," answered Talaos with a sudden laugh. "The trick is when and how. Let's start following them and seeing what presents itself."

Talaos stood up
without further explanation and the others followed. Together, they turned south again behind the enemy column. They kept low and behind whatever cover could be found, out of direct sight of the road. As they went, the sun dropped to the level of the hills to the east, and the light faded from golden to red.

At last,
in deepening shadows along the rolling ground and amidst the scattered trees, Talaos led them closer to the road, close enough again to take a direct look. There a scene presented itself like a siege in miniature.

The line of hills ran in a diagonal out to a spur of land along the coast. The spur itself was
a tangle of seaside cliffs and jagged rocks. At the lowest point in the hills, the road ran up through a gentle pass, and down the other side. Elsewhere, the hills were wooded at the top, with steep, gullied, gravel-strewn north faces. Talaos thought, as Adriko had, that it looked like moderately difficult terrain for infantry, but very treacherous for cavalry.

Adriko had not been idle. He'd dug a trench and thrown up a wide earth rampart at the top of the pass
. Both extended a little bit around the hills on either side. Spiked stakes had been driven into the outer face of the rampart. Atop the rampart was a palisade of stakes, and behind it the massed Aledri spearmen with shields locked and spears ready.

The captain looked to have gotten hold of additional bows, perhaps from the supply caravan, and equipped some of
his irregulars with them.  The latter were now perched up on the hillsides. There was some sort of work still going on, among the trees on the higher slopes of the hills, but Talaos couldn't see what it was in the fading light.

In front of that little fortress was arrayed the enemy army. They'd formed up in
orderly squadrons across the road and the plains on either side. The heavy cavalry was at their center. Behind the main line was the command group. On the far side, to the left of command was the baggage. Nearer, to command's right, four large torches topped tall posts in a square around what looked to be the magus. He himself had set up some sort of table full of objects in the center of that square. On either side of the group including command, baggage, and magus, was a squadron of cavalry, and there were three more behind.

A few scouts were inland, riding slowly and carefully along the relatively flatter land some distance from the base of the hills. No doubt, thought Talaos, there were more on foot
looking for usable routes in the hills, and who knew where else. He'd have to be careful.

Even
from this distance in the deepening twilight, Talaos could see that a lively discussion was going on among the enemy officers. No doubt about what to do next.

Talaos turned to his own men, close by and quietly watching the same scene.

"All right, Madmen, we're going to do this good and slow. You can see the big gaps between those squadrons on guard, but they're cavalry on open ground, not a bunch of bandits surprised in their own camp. The dark gives us lots of cover, and we'll need every bit of it."

"I'll find us a path," said Imvan, eyes already alert.

The Hillman led them on a winding, carefully chosen way in the gathering gloom. As they went, Talaos considered with some pride that they'd grown stealthier and better coordinated doing this kind of travel. It was good, as for all the darkness, they wouldn't have mist and thick forest on their side this time. For a long time, their hidden route also meant they had no good view of what was going on at the pass. When finally they came to a place, the end of a low rise where they did, matters had changed.

"The bastards are trying a night attack!" said Kyrax, managing to whisper and snarl at the same time.

And so it was, saw Talaos. In all the conversations about tactics and war he'd had with Adriko and the more experienced soldiers, he'd heard little to suggest large battles were good ideas at night. Masses of soldiers became easily confused in the dark, and coordination was tricky. For that reason, they were rare, unless one side was short on time or sure of victory.

But there they were. The pass was wide enough that a full squadron of twenty
horsemen could ride abreast, and the enemy had five hundred of theirs in a column, with the heavy cavalry at the front. As Talaos watched, they began to move forward at a slow trot.

Behind the advancing five hundred was a reserve of two hundred more
at the ready.

Some of the
senior commanders were up with the cavalry column. One, who appeared to be the overall leader, remained behind. He was an older man with a high black and gold crest on his open faced helm, a gilded solid steel breastplate, and a richly decorated red cloak on his back. With him were an officer in black and gold and a small bodyguard of heavy cavalry. Messengers galloped in between on dispatches.

There was another thing. The magus was now standing at the center of a large circle lit with
fire. The four tall torches formed corners a few feet outside the ring. Talaos got a better look at the man. He was clean shaven, with chin-length, graying hair under his silver circlet. Under his strange tabard of sigils he wore a silver breastplate and a long white tunic. He held his long silver wand, almost a staff, in his right hand, and his raised left hand circled in peculiar motions.

"Looks like we're going to have to make our own opportunities
," said Talaos. "If we can use stealth to get close enough to kill that magus, we will. Otherwise, we'll try to draw out some of their cavalry and get ourselves horses."

The men nodded with grim smiles
. As Talaos moved on, they followed. At first there was some whispered discussion of terrain and tactics. Then they fell silent, well out of earshot of the enemy. Overhead, the last twilight vanished, and night fell.

Ahead, the column of cavalry was advancing in ordered ranks and with no sense of hurry.

The spearmen on the earthen rampart were readied for battle in close-spaced ranks of their own. On the hillsides, the irregular archers and a few footmen waited. All told, only about half of Adriko's company were visible.

Talaos sped up, moving gracefully through the dark. The others followed, leaping quietly across little gullies and through stands of shadowed trees. The moon, indifferent to all, shone silver overhead,
but far away in the east, the black clouds had grown brooding.

Something else was happening.

Where the magus was circling and gesturing his outstretched hand, little lines of brilliant golden fire appeared; complex geometric lines in a circle in the air directly before him. Then the magus raised his staff skyward, and up from it flowed a kind of faint, flickering red fire. Higher and higher rose the flames, and as they rose they grew stronger.

So much for stealth, thought Talaos
. He broke into a sprint. He ran in great leaping strides, faster and faster. The others tried to keep up, running fast and well over the dark, uneven ground beneath, but gradually at first, then ever further, they fell behind.

The enemy cavalry were still moving slowly forward, only now reaching
the lower slopes of the pass.  Talaos focused his attention on the magus. He felt life, power, and will rise within him. The distant, slow-gathering, storm called to him. Or, he thought, perhaps he called to it. He felt the ground flying past beneath his feet and air against his face as he hurtled onward. He felt like an arrow in that wind, a javelin hurled at the enemy.

High in the air above the magus, the column of fire was roiling in circles. It grew brighter, as if being fanned in a furnace. It had stopped rising, and at the very top it was roaring like a massive bonfire, flames licking in all directions.

Talaos sped on. He reached the end of any sort of cover, and passed out onto the coastal plain. The magus was still far away.  Some distance behind the magus was the rearguard of sixty cavalry, and between him and Talaos were twenty more horsemen on guard.

The roiling flames above the magus now condensed,
flowed, and began to form a shape. Great burning wings spread on either side. The fire took the form of a great bird of prey, like an eagle made of flames, though a hundred times larger.

A scout spotted Talaos,
wheeled, and rode hard back to his army with horn blowing. The squadron of horsemen guarding the nearer side of the road turned to look, then with shouted commands from their officer, turned in formation to face Talaos. Of the three squadrons in the rearguard, the nearest did the same.

Alone, Talaos raced across the plain.

The great eagle of flame overhead now began to move slowly forward, flickering and roiling, more like a fire in motion than a bird.  The spearmen at the pass looked up at it uncomfortably. Some of the irregulars took cover or retreated up the hillsides.

Talaos focused on the magus. The man was moving his
left hand in a new way in front of the floating circle of golden fire. Talaos had thought the eagle of fire was some sort of creature or spirit summoned with magic, but he saw that it moved in exact time with the mage's hand, like a puppet and its puppet master.

He
decided to cut the strings. Faster and faster he sprinted toward the enemy.

The eagle began to roar, like a
bonfire in the wind.

The squadron of cavalry blocking his way now trotted towards him. Their front rank held long spears level and ready. The rear rank had
spears at their backs and javelins in their hands. The horsemen charged, and the men with javelins hurled them.

The
javelins came at him quick as striking snakes. He dodged one, spun, and caught another in mid air with his right hand, then spun further and kept running. Some among the rearguard must have had bows, he thought, because an arrow struck him in the left thigh. With his free hand, he ripped it out and cast it aside. Blood poured from the wound, but he ran on.

In the sky, the ea
gle of flame screamed, and swooped toward the men at the pass.

Below,
doubtless timed to arrive after the striking flames, the main enemy force charged.

Ahead of him, ten cavalry charged with lowered spears, and another ten behind drew fresh javelins.
Even now, the magus was far away, farther than any javelin throw he'd ever heard of, as far as a long bow might shoot.

Talaos ran, and
focused his mind on what he must do. Focused his mind on the weapon in his hand. Focused his intention, everything he had, on the moment in which he must succeed. Focused his will, his strength, his power, all on his goal, and the javelin.

He
drew back his right arm, ready for the cast.

The eagle shrieked from the sky at lines of frightened men.
Yet, men who still held fast.

Talaos threw
. There was a sound of cracking air like a thunderclap. Far across the plain the javelin flew, and straight through the armored flank of the magus. Crackling gouts of blue white lightning shot from the man's ribs on the opposite side as he fell, dead and ruined.

The circle of golden fire vanished.
Overhead and no more than a hundred feet from the men at the rampart, the eagle of flame flickered out, like a candle blown by some mighty breath.