Torn By War: 4 (The Death Wizard Chronicles) (23 page)

AT THE SAME moment that Yoen encountered Rati and the noble ones, the Tugars made their first serious attempt to force the army of fiends to veer to the southeast. The warriors were thirsty, hungry, and weary, but they followed Aya’s orders without complaint.

Though a few continued to encircle the fiends, the majority of the Tugars massed on their western flank. It was a subtle gathering, made without command. If the fiends noticed anything unusual, they showed no sign.

In unison, a square-shaped formation of twenty-score warriors charged against the bunched-up monsters, pushing with all its strength and hacking recklessly at any fiend within reach. In response, the monsters snarled like wolves but were unable to engulf the warriors. Like a massive flood diverted by an upslope, the fiends veered slightly to their left and resumed their march.

Again and again, the Tugars smashed against them, not stopping until Aya and Silah were satisfied that the fiends had been redirected along the proper path.

“If they don’t turn after this, they will go down the middle of the pass,” Silah said. “We should send at least five score ahead to prepare the ambush.”

“Make it so,
Kantaara Yodha
,” Aya said respectfully.

The fiends did not turn. Left to their own devices, they walked in an amazingly straight line the rest of the day. The Tugars continued to record kills on the perimeter but had managed to slay fewer than one thousand since the initial battle on the dunes, barely putting a dent in what remained of the monsters.

Though it was only the middle of spring, Aya could not remember an afternoon so suffocatingly hot. His warriors were drained, the long chase taking its toll physically and emotionally. Some had run out of water, food, and even Cirāya. At this rate, they could not hold out much longer. But one thing kept them going: The pass where they planned their ambush now was less than three leagues away. If they could hold until then, there was hope.

ILLĪ, THE SECOND of two scouts Aya had sent out, reached Wuul that afternoon. What she found surprised her pleasantly. Kithar, whom she had not seen since he left for the havens the previous summer, had organized an impressive defense of the oasis, banding together a variety of tribesmen that even included several Kalliks. If the fiends attacked the inhabitants of Wuul, they would encounter a stout foe.

Though Kithar opted to remain at the oasis, Illī hastily arranged to return from whence she came with five camels heavily laden with water-bloated skins. A pair of trusty Beydoos volunteered to go with her. Without knowledge of Silah’s plan, Illī set off for the pass, which was the quickest return route from Wuul.

AT DUSK OF the second day since the battle had begun, the fiends came within sight of the pass. Aya feared they might somehow sense the ambush. Instead, they marched straight for the gap without slowing.

Limestone walls that leaned drunkenly outward toward the summit of the ridge enclosed the pass, which was only five hundred cubits broad and long. Entering the pass required caution, even at the most benign of times. Loose rock clung precariously to the sides and littered the floor. The one hundred Tugars who had separated from the main force earlier that day now were cleverly hidden among the boulders. According to legend, the
Kantaara Yodhas
never left footprints. This wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was true that their steps caused little disturbance, and they were experts at covering their tracks.

Now, the fiends’ tactic of bunching together worked to the Tugars’ advantage. The entire army was small enough to squeeze into the pass at the same time. If all went as planned, the desert warriors could bury most of the fiends beneath tons of sand and rock before they even realized they were under attack.

As the sun ran for cover on the western horizon, the fiends entered the pass. From where he stood, Aya was not in position to give commands. Instead he trusted that the warriors already in place would begin the onslaught at the proper time. If the Tugars unleashed the rockslide too soon, most of the fiends would be able to back out of the narrow gap, but if they started it too late, many of the monsters would escape through the far end.

The Tugars who had remained with the fiends, four hundred in all, gathered at the army’s rear flank. If some of the monsters attempted to retreat, they would be met with certain death. Aya watched the fiends flood into the gap, counting his breaths in anticipation.

Silah tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the top of the ridge. On one of the walls, a smoky plume of dust lifted into the night air. A low rumble followed. On the opposite wall, something similar occurred. A moment later, both walls seemed to explode. As hoped, this engulfed the majority of the fiends, but the chaotic collapse was far more severe than Aya had believed possible. Clouds of dust blew outward with the force of a sandstorm, causing the Tugars to shield their faces. It seemed to take forever for the air to clear. The warriors were stunned by what was revealed. The pass was clogged with rubble halfway to the top of the walls.

A hundred score fiends had somehow avoided the conflagration and were in full retreat, but now they were scattered. The Tugars went about the gruesome task of hacking off their heads. Immediately afterward, the warriors scrabbled upon the rubble and searched for Tugarian survivors. Of the one hundred who had hidden in the pass and started the avalanche, twenty were missing.

Though the Tugars were exhausted almost beyond their ability to stand, they found the strength to tear through the debris. Sadly, they uncovered far more fiends than warriors. Their despair over their fallen brothers and sisters grew more desperate with each breath. Upon finding lifeless bodies, several warriors burst into tears. In the end, only five more Tugars were saved. Five others were found dead. The remaining ten were never uncovered. It was the greatest loss of Tugar life in a single event since the war against Slag more than eight centuries before.

Silah was the most devastated of all.

“If I had only known,” she repeated over and over.

“But you did not,” Aya said. “Nor did I or any other. And yet, even if we had known, we would have risked it. What else could we have done?”

Now they had no water and were still a full day’s march from the oasis. Though it hurt him deeply, Aya was forced to call off the search for other survivors. If they didn’t start toward Wuul soon, they would lose more than fifteen.

On their way to Wuul, they discovered the tracks of several hundred fiends that had made it through the pass and appeared to be headed toward the oasis—with a considerable head start. But the Tugars were in no shape for a chase. The inhabitants of Wuul were on their own.

At dawn, their hopes were renewed. Illī, the Beydoos, and the camels appeared at the crest of a dune. The water they brought came none too soon.

As for the fiends who escaped the rockslide, they did not survive their assault on Wuul. Kithar’s makeshift army put up a remarkable fight—and when Rati, his Tugars, and their Beydoo escorts arrived as reinforcements, it became a rout.

Despite the apparent victory, other fiends haunted the desert for days to come.

Including one in particular.

TATHAGATA STOOD on the dagger-sharp crest of a towering fossil dune. The squirming mass of
undines
that inhabited her body sensed the destruction of the army of fiends, causing her to scream with despair. Immediately the moth in her ear seized the opportunity to incite more hatred.

“The Tugars must pay for this blasphemy!”

Instead of screaming, the monster snarled.

“And imagine how big you’ll grow when it’s Tugarian flesh you’re eating,” the moth whispered.

What remained of the High Nun’s sanity whispered back, barely audible. “We eat and are eaten. But life goes on.”

“Don’t
listen
to her!” the moth said. “She is weak and stupid. You are strong and wise. Listen to
me
 . . . instead. Vengeance is sweet.”

“Even horror can bring awakening,” sanity responded.

But the monster that Tathagata had become paid little heed to sanity. The moth’s proclamations rang truer. Vengeance
would
be sweet. The Tugars
would
pay. Perhaps, when she was finished with the warriors, all others would pay too.

On the same morning that Mala’s army arrived at Nissaya, Sister Tathagata arrived at the Tent City.

Only she was bigger, stronger, and a good deal meaner than she used to be.

To make matters worse, the Simōōn was not in place to stop her.

LUCIUS LED THE Daasa a league into Dhutanga, calling a halt before they penetrated deeply enough to be at serious risk from the will of the black trees. In this location, an ordinary blend of hardwoods and conifers continued to dominate their surroundings. As dusk approached, the Daasa leapt into the roiling foam of Cariya, the deadly currents and hidden boulders providing more opportunities for play. Once again, their behavior charmed the firstborn, causing him to dread the upcoming battle more than ever. Though they were formidable in their “meanie” state, it was probable that many of the Daasa would not survive their encounter with the druids. Losing just one more would break Lucius’ heart. How could he bear the death of hundreds or thousands?

Part of him wanted to cross back over the river and flee eastward to the Mahaggatas. Within those dense mountains were countless places to hide until the wars were over. When Invictus prevailed, it still might be months before Mala deemed them important enough to hunt down.
Months
! How blissful that would be. The Daasa might even make new homes in the forests of the valleys, becoming as innocuous as deer.

Bonny approached silently, startling him.

“I have never seen you look so troubled,” the pirate woman said. “And that’s saying something. I know you are not scared, but are you having second thoughts?”

“Can you read my mind?”

“You are the love of my life. That’s just about the same thing as being able to read your mind.”

Lucius kissed her on the mouth. “You’re right on both counts. I’m not afraid, but I
am
having second thoughts. The Daasa will be outnumbered against a terrible foe. How many will perish?”

“Such is war,” Bonny said.

“This is my war, not yours or theirs.”

“The Daasa didn’t ask to be enslaved. I didn’t ask for a golden soldier to rape my mommy. So, yes, it’s our war, too—and I would fight even if I had never met you.”

“Bonny . . . I’m sorry. You didn’t tell me your mother was raped.”

“There are some things better left unsaid, even to the man you love.” Then she stepped back and glared at him, her eyes ablaze. “Lucius, it will feel good to do some killing. To be honest, I am looking forward to it.”

“Will it feel good to the Daasa?”

Bonny’s eyes remained full of fire. “It will hurt them. It always does. But they have some avenging to do too.”

In the middle of the night, Lucius and Bonny wandered to a distant place and made love. To Lucius, it felt like their final encounter. Though he had never been a soothsayer, he couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom. It had taken his entire life to find freedom and happiness; yet he had been permitted to enjoy it for just a few short weeks. Life could be so unfair. Watching some of the Daasa die would be bad enough, but watching Bonny die? He didn’t believe he could survive it.

As she slept naked beside him, returned again to her “nicey” state, Lucius lay on his side, head propped on his elbow, and studied her. Everything about her brought him pleasure, from her round, pretty face to her muscular body. Laylah would be in danger tomorrow, as well; yet Lucius found himself thinking only of his new love. He managed an ironic laugh, which woke her.

“What is it, sweety?” she said, with a sleepy smile.

“No matter what happens tomorrow, there is something I need to say. You told me earlier that I am the love of your life. Well, it’s time for me to say the same to you. There are no doubts anymore. And there never will be again. I love you, Bonny, with all my heart. I would take you across the sea with me and never return, if I could.”

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, but she said nothing in response.

Before dawn, the sound of humming awakened them. Though it was low and distant, it was extremely unpleasant, as if designed to instill madness. Lucius felt the now-familiar feeling of his face beginning to flush and swell, and it took a considerable amount of effort to resist changing to his “meanie” self. He looked over at Bonny and saw that she too appeared agitated.

When they returned to the Daasa, they found the pink creatures milling about nervously. Lucius feared they might charge off, without warning, in the direction of the sickening sound. But when he calmly went about the business of preparing a small meal, his behavior seemed to encourage the Daasa and relax them.

“The druids are probably ten leagues from here,” Lucius said to Bonny in a monotone voice. “What’s going to happen when the Daasa actually
see
them? Will I have any control?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Bonny said. “But somehow I think it’ll be all right.”

Before returning to Jivita, the white horsemen had provided Lucius and Bonny with ample supplies. While the Daasa foraged for nuts, bark, and spring berries, Lucius and his lover ate potatoes and onions fried in pork fat, followed by dried blackberries to sweeten their breath. Afterward they went their separate ways to relieve themselves. When he was finished, Lucius knelt down on the west bank of Cariya and filled his skin. A pair of Daasa sidled up next to him and licked his face, causing him to splutter and laugh.

“If you had any idea what’s about to happen, you wouldn’t be doing that,” he said. The Daasa were not dismayed. Instead, they rolled onto their backs and invited Lucius to scratch their bowl-shaped stomachs. He laughed again.

Lucius met Bonny by the fire. Both packed their gear and broke camp, trudging westward through the forest, with the Daasa following happily along, scrambling up and down trees, wrestling with each other, and making a considerable commotion. Lucius wished he could quiet them down, but whenever he tried, they became even more raucous. However, by noon the humming sound had grown loud enough to drown out the Daasa and all other living things. Lucius began to despise it.

Eventually, the humming became a tangible force, creating fear, frustration, and disorientation. Was it possible the sound could grow even louder? If so, the druids might win the war without having to fight.

In the early afternoon, Lucius called another halt, sat down on the trunk of a fallen poplar, and covered his ears with his hands. He felt hot all over and out of breath, and he found himself struggling with an increased desire to change. He believed that once he transformed into the “meanie” state, he would become a reckless killing machine, lacking the discipline to make rational decisions, so he needed to hold back until the last moment. But the druid cacophony was testing his resolve.

Bonny, who seemed to have better control over her transformations, put an arm around his shoulder. “You are doing fine, Lucius,” she said in a loud voice. “You should have seen the way I struggled with it, early on.”

“When was the first time?”

“Thankfully, not until I had seen twenty winters. If it had happened to me as a child, I might have killed my mommy and anyone else who tried to tell me what to do. But growing up, I never did change. Did the
Mahanta pEpa
hold me back like it did the Daasa? I’m not sure. Maybe those with human blood are beyond the Great Evil. But I think people like you and I have to be up close to a lot of the Daasa before we finally transform.

“It wasn’t until I began to hang out with friends by the slave pits that I had these strange feelings. Once, I got sloppy and left a tavern too close to nightfall. A Mogol warrior grabbed me from behind and dragged me into an alley. He was about to have his way with me when I changed. As you might imagine, he is no longer among the living. That was fifteen winters ago.”

“I’m sorry again, Bonny.”

“Don’t be! I liked being able to fight back. Killing him was . . .
fun
!”

Lucius grunted. “Afterward, the transformations happened more frequently?”

“Yes, though at first only when I got mad. After a while, I was able to control when, where, and how. But it took practice. Even now, if I get real mad or scared, it’s hard not to give in—though the more you do it, the more you crave it, even if it does hurt.”

Lucius grinned at her. “I know one of the ways you crave it.”

She laughed and slapped his arm. Then her face grew serious. “You know . . . you are learning to control it already, finding ways to distract yourself when the feeling comes on.”

Lucius sat up straight. “I do feel a bit better, I admit—though being around you always makes me feel good. I think the first moment I met you, I knew you were the one.”

“Well, you had a funny way of showing it back in Duccarita!”

After that, they ate bread, cheese, and more blackberries. Once again, the day had become unseasonably hot, even beneath the trees. The Daasa lay down all around them and took naps. Bonny soon joined them, and even Lucius succumbed to drowsiness, despite the intense buzzing that caused the branches to tremble.

While asleep, he dreamed he was back in Uccheda, disciplining Urbana for her rough treatment of Laylah. But this time, the vampire didn’t lower her head and pretend to be intimidated. Instead, she smiled wickedly, bared her fangs, and pounced on him. He sat up in a rush, unaware of where he was. Not until Bonny comforted him did he regain his bearings.

“It’s nearing dusk,” she said. “Either I’m going crazy, or the humming’s gotten even louder. I guess we should be going, huh?”

Lucius stood and took a long drink from his skin.

“I can think of few things I’d rather do less. Now I wish I had asked for some Jivitans to come along as escorts. It would feel less lonely, somehow, to have others with us to share this burden.”

“They’ll be sharing it—just not where we’ll be able to see them.”

“If we do see any Jivitans again, it will mean there is hope.”

They left a relatively flat area of forest and entered a meandering succession of hills, hollows, and coves. Though they were traveling due west instead of north, they began to encounter sparse stands of the horrid trees that dominated Dhutanga’s interior. The Daasa avoided these trees as if their bark was poisonous. Even Lucius could sense the evil consciousness that resided within the black wood. It reminded him of the Hornbeam.

“This place could get downright spooky at night,” Bonny said.

“I don’t like it either,” Lucius agreed. “Even the Daasa seem out of sorts. Imagine how bad it would be if we were forced to go farther north.”

“I’d fight the entire druid army myself before I’d do that.”

The humming was louder than ever, assaulting their senses like thunder that never ceased. Abruptly, they came to a crest that overlooked a deep, winding cove choked with shadows. Lucius, Bonny, and the Daasa lined the crown. Lucius peered down into the dark depths. What he saw chilled his heart.

Tens of thousands of crimson fireflies, traveling in close-knit pairs, filled the cove. At first, Lucius was thoroughly confused, but then he comprehended what he was seeing. The druid army was advancing through the cove, and the fireflies were their glowing eyes.

Several of the Daasa began to transform. Lucius sensed it before he saw it. In his mind, he shouted, “No!”

The Daasa contained themselves and slunk back. The rest also obeyed his silent command. Despite his horror at seeing the druids, Lucius felt a swell of pride.

“If I can control myself, I can control them,” he thought. As if in response, Bonny touched his hand and smiled.

However, Lucius’ momentary pleasure was quickly erased. A being appeared among the druids that was far greater than any of the wood-eaters, its head as broad as his arm was long. Despite its enormity, Lucius could not see it well enough to identify it. But the focus of the creature’s attention soon became clear. The monster stopped and looked up. Lucius didn’t believe it could see him clearly, but he had little doubt it sensed something.