The Evermen Saga 01 - Enchantress (60 page)

"S
IR
, I think you had better see this for yourself," the scout said.

Miro raised an eyebrow at Bladesinger Huron, who shrugged. He glanced at Marshal Beorn and Lord Rorelan. "Come with me," he said to the two men, newly made marshals.

It had been hard going, since Mornhaven, but it was with a new sense of purpose that the army had abandoned the Ring Forts for the promised safety of Altura. They had poured down from Sark first, and then the other four fortresses had emptied themselves. Miro had formed them up quickly. There was no use delaying.

The pride of Halaran’s defences would soon be occupied by the enemy.

There had been the inevitable departure of some Halrana who had refused to leave their homeland. Miro had let them go. He could understand what they were feeling. It was still an immense army he led, perhaps four fifths Alturan and one fifth Halrana.

All of the constructs had long faded completely, there were no drudges to pull the great carts, yet the Halrana valiantly struggled to pull the wagons by hand. One day, if the Halrana Lexicon could be found and renewed, the ironmen, woodmen, bonemen, colossi, drudges and golems would fight again.

Miro didn’t have the heart to tell the Halrana about the Primate’s new method of destroying the Lexicons permanently.

For the enchanted swords and armour, the nightlamps and heatplates, it was impossible to hide the fading of the runes now. When he was alone, Miro had activated his armoursilk and zenblade. The light was still fierce, the armour supple yet strong — but for how long?

Miro kept telling himself. If he could get them to Alturan lands, they would live to fight another day.

The scout led the commanders up a hillside and over some rubble. They climbed an abutment and stood on a high crest.

"Lord of the Sky," Marshal Beorn breathed.

The Sarsen curled in a ribbon below them, wide and turbulent in these parts. It formed the borderland between Altura and Halaran, a wild place of cliffs and canyons. There was one place only where the land lay low enough on either side to allow passage. This was the site of the Bridge of Sutanesta, a great stone arch supported by immense columns.

It was a relic of the elder days, the Sutanesta. There was no lore holding it together, it was an example of ancient ingenuity. Each grey block was the size of a house. How they had been put together and assembled was still a mystery.

In the lowland on their side was a sea of people. More people than Miro had ever seen in one place, and he had seen mighty battles. They weren’t numbered in their thousands. They were numbered in their tens of thousands. The refugees of a defeated nation. The men, women and children of Halaran.

Their numbers were so great that they were packed together side-by-side. Children screamed, babies bawled. Fathers jostled for room with their arms in a circle around their families. The crowd surged and fell back, then surged again.

"Skylord save us," said Lord Rorelan.

The Bridge of Sutanesta had been destroyed.

Where it had been was an immense empty space. The beginning and ending of the bridge were still intact. The great blocks that had formed the arch could be seen here and there in the current of the river.

"It’s the work of the enemy," the scout said. "You can see where they laid the runebombs. Massive, they must have been."

Miro took a deep, shaky breath. What to do? He had to be strong. He was the leader. He had brought them to this place. Now only a river stood between his army and the security of Altura. A wide, surging river — and an innumerable mass of refugees.

"What do we do?" said Marshal Beorn.

A cry came from behind them. Miro turned. Prince Leopold stood transfixed, his face drained of colour.

"We should never have come to this place. We had safety in Sark. My father..."

"Your uncle deserted us, all of us, and that includes you," said Miro.

"He will be back," said the prince.

"Not as long as I’m here," said Miro. He waved to one of his captains. "Take him back to the army and keep him away from the men."

"At once, sir."

"You can’t do this!" Prince Leopold said.

"It is done," Miro turned back to the refugees as the man was led away.

"He will hate you for that," said Marshal Beorn, scratching at his beard.

"Let him," said Miro. "We need to plan."

"You know what this means," said Lord Rorelan. His smooth face was creased with worry. "We need to get this army across that river. The soldiers have to take priority."

"I know, I know," said Miro. "There has to be a way!"

"We need to begin clearing the refugees so that our men can start rebuilding the bridge," said Marshal Beorn. "I have to warn you, it will take days."

Miro cursed. "We don’t have days."

Lord Rorelan laid a hand on his shoulder. "We also need to think about our defences."

Sighing, Miro nodded. "Get the men to start digging trenches. I want them spiked and ready before sunset. Detail some of the Halrana soldiers to take care of those refugees. We need them to allow some space for our engineers to get through to the remains of the bridge. Send some enchanters with them. In two hours I want a report on what we can do to cross that river. We’ll put the bladesingers and two colossi on that ridge there. The colossi may not be functional but the enemy may not know that. The mortar teams and dirigibles can go up on the hill to the side there. We want the heavy units up the front. When the Black Army comes, it will be with everything they’ve got."

Men ran in all directions. Miro looked down at the refugees again. They were so helpless, milling around in confusion. The task of getting so many people across the Sarsen seemed insurmountable.

Miro closed his eyes. He remembered Layla’s talk about the Eternal. It was time to pray.

57

The constructs of Raj Halaran disgust me. Gross, mechanical creatures — who could love such things?

— High Lord Vladimir Corizon to High Cultivator Draco Brasov, 538 Y.E.

K
ILLIAN
trudged up the hill, his back bowed under the weight of his pack. He glanced at Evrin beside him. The old man had changed his clothing back to the faded priestly garb. From all outward appearances they were pilgrims on their way to Stonewater.

He sighed. He was still ignorant as to his past. What he really was. Why he was different. Evrin seemed content to have found him. The old man had explained his plan, now here Killian was.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he was yet again the pawn of someone’s grand scheme. It was the thought of Ella that kept him going. She knew who she was — she didn’t need to be told. She had made it clear to Killian whose side she thought he should be on. He wondered where she was. He hoped she had found her way safely back to Altura.

Evrin gave Killian a significant look. They were getting close to the peak of the mountain now. They rounded a bend in the rock. Evrin drew to the side, pretending to be out of breath. Killian stepped forward as if offering his aid. There was a break in the line of pilgrims. They ducked around the rock and scuttled over the scree to a protected cleft in the side of the mountain.

Killian took a moment to gather his breath. He thought about what Evrin had told him, "This substance the Primate has made from essence. This… technique he uses to turn people to his will. I don’t see how you are to blame."

Evrin’s blue eyes studied Killian. "It is a long tale, too long for today. But it was I who left the lore where it could be found. There are some pieces of knowledge that are better left untaught. This is one of them."

"What do you need me for? Why don’t you do this yourself?"

The old man ignored him. He was busy rummaging through his bag. He turned to Killian, a small brown bottle and a scrill in his hands. "Take off your shirt. This won’t take long."

Killian noticed Evrin didn’t bother with gloves. "Aren’t you worried about the poison?"

"No, I am not. Off. Take your shirt off completely."

Killian removed his shirt.

Evrin deftly dipped the scrill and began to draw runes with a quick, sure hand. The smoke rose from the bare skin of Killian’s chest. He felt nothing but a slight tingling.

Killian had seen Ella draw the symbols, but this was something else. Evrin drew rune after rune without pausing, without thinking. Killian’s chest was soon covered in the matrices, followed by his neck. His arms followed. Finally Evrin drew the runes on Killian’s back.

"There," he said. Evrin drew away to regard his work.

It had taken only minutes. Killian hadn’t seen many runes, but he had the feeling that this was lore of a level beyond anything, beyond even the loremasters of the houses.

"
Shak-lan
," said Evrin.

Some of the matrices came alive, glowing with silver light.

"What have you done to me?" Killian said.

"It is a rushed effort, but I have enhanced your body."

"Enhanced? What do you mean? Why don’t you enhance yourself?"

Evrin sighed. He seemed to lose some of his strength. "I cannot. It was my final punishment. They took it away from me. Now, I am just like the common people. I can create lore on items, such as my clothing here. Essence does not harm me. But the abilities you have, I no longer possess." He activated some more sequences, naming the runes one after another.

Killian felt his body… change. His skin firmed, his weight grew lighter. He bunched his fists. His arms felt like steel.

"If you only had the knowledge, we could do more. Much more. Your dreams could only half describe the things that could be done." He regarded Killian’s glowing body. "I have kept it simple. You will not need to name any runes yourself. Wait a moment." He drew a quick succession of symbols on Killian’s trousers.

"
Sur-an-ahman
," Evrin said.

Killian felt nothing. Then he looked at his hand. There was nothing there. He looked down at his body. Nothing could be seen of him. He was invisible.

"Are you ready?" Evrin said.

Killian nodded. Evrin just looked at him, his eyes slightly unfocused. Then Killian realised. He couldn’t be seen. "I am ready," he said.

Evrin pointed up the hill of the mountain. "There is a special entrance, guarded by templars. It leads to the first in a series of chambers. They store the lignite ore here —
raj ichor
in its raw, unrefined form. Each small block of lignite contains the life-force of a thousand trees, or a million blades of grass. Are you listening?"

"Yes, I understand," Killian said. "The first chambers contain the ore. Is this really the right thing to do? What of the Halrana Lexicon? That’s what I came here for."

"Listen to me, Killian. Imagine every person you have ever cared about being held above a flame. You have a choice. To free them, or to taste a single drop of the tainted essence, and watch them burn in front of you, their screams haunting your nightmares for the rest of your days. Killian, if you were in its thrall, you would choose to watch them burn."

"But to destroy the relics…"

"We’re destroying the Primate’s methods of production. The Primate uses essence to produce
raj nilas
. If he can no longer produce essence, his supplies of
raj nilas
will soon run dry."

"But the houses…"

"The houses have their essence stockpiles. And Killian?"

"What?"

"The knowledge, how to produce essence," Evrin tapped the side of his head. "Right here."

"What about the Halrana Lexicon?"

"It may have already been destroyed. If it has, there’s nothing we can do. First destroy the relics, and then you can worry about the Halrana Lexicon. As you know, Stonewater has a wide shaft running vertically through the mountain’s core. The most secure place is at the foot of the shaft. This is where the refinery is housed, and where essence comes into being. It would stand to reason that the essence is further refined into
raj nilas
here. When your mission is complete, look for the animators’ Lexicon somewhere near the refinery.’

Killian closed his eyes, breathing in, and then slowly opened them. He was filled with a new determination. If the Primate didn’t have any more of the tainted essence, he could no longer bend the houses to his will. This was his chance to save lives, the lives of people like Ella. "So what’s after the ore chambers?"

The old man gave Killian a further set of instructions, and then handed him three small cubes. Each was covered in tiny runes. Killian could see each of the cubes was numbered from one to three. "These will destroy the relics. To activate them, say, ‘
Lot-har
,’ followed by the number. They will explode ten seconds after you activate them."

Killian put them into the pocket of his trousers.

"Each has great destructive power. Make sure you are far away when they go."

The old man suddenly looked his age. He held out his palm. Killian gripped it. It looked like Evrin’s hand gripped nothing. "Be careful. When you return, we will talk. And Killian?"

"Yes?"

"The yellow eyes. Be careful of the yellow eyes."

58

We need to understand more about the elixir. Use the homeless of Salvation as test subjects — preferably those without families. When the world is united under one banner, they stand the most to benefit. Their sacrifice will be remembered.

— Primate Melovar Aspen to Templar Zavros, 539 Y.E.

M
IRO
had pushed the men hard, and himself harder. They had accomplished miracles in the two days they had been in the borderlands. Somehow though, it hadn’t been enough.

From his command at the summit of the tallest hill, he gazed out over the incessant activity below. He studied the wide loop in the river. They had cut the loop, forming a half circle. Their defences now formed a ragged line from one point in the river above the bridge, to another point lower down. The treacherous ground rose and fell, making a straight line impossible. Miro had taken advantage of the terrain wherever possible, deploying his strongest units on the crested hills and natural rises.