Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (41 page)

There was a stir in the crowd. "What of the outlanders?  Aren’t they responsible for this strife?" shouted a voice.  Several others echoed similar sentiments.

There was a negative murmur from the crowd as Taros Ranvok gestured for quiet.

"It is true that the arrival of the outlanders has seemed to trigger these events.  But I feel that it may be a blessing in disguise, for it has hastened a confrontation with the Witch, which I believe has been inevitable.  It is better to face her now than ten years hence, when her power might be unopposable.  Also consider that the Outlanders are great wizards and Warriors in their own right.  The three of them slew a Mathi without any aid from us.  In addition, they now bear a magic item of great power, which they plan to use against the wizards."

Some of the crowd was still not convinced.  Cries continued like: "Why not give them to the wizards?" and "Why should we fight the wizards?"

Taros Ranvok motioned to Safreon.  Hemlock turned and saw Safreon moving through the crowd toward the stairs which led to the stage.  He gave Hemlock a reassuring nod as he passed.  She could see that he carried something under his cloak. 

Taros Ranvok continued to speak to the crowd. "Have you considered the wizards and their motives?  They harvest souls from this land and bring the magical Oberon back to the City.  They have a truce with the Witches, which by its mere existence, brings their motives into question.  Did you think that they were your friends?  After all, it is Wizard magic which originally created the veil and sundered our land from that of our ancestors.  Do not question for a moment that the wizards have not been our enemies only because they view us as insignificant.  Like the Witches, they lust for absolute power over the City and all the lands within the veil."

Safreon reached the side of the stage and Taros Ranvok waved him forward, as he spoke,  "Behold, the Wand of the Imperator, an item which wields a magic as potent as that which bound our land to the City."

Safreon pulled the wand from his cloak and held it overhead.  The molten fire within the glass head of the Wand seemed to surge for a moment as the Tanna Varrans beheld it.

A silence overcame the crowd then.  The air in the hall seemed to take on a weight under the flickering brilliance of the magical fire within the Wand, almost as if it were some incendiary eye that held each man and woman rapt under its gaze.

A feeling of reverie had overcome Hemlock, and with her, seemingly much of the crowd.  She felt insignificant in the presence of such a tangible power as the Wand.

"Remember, it is just a tool," she repeated to herself—words that Safreon had said more than once in the past few days when she had looked on the Wand.

Taros Ranvok spoke again, breaking the spell of the wand. "This is the power that has come to us–at precisely the time that we need it most.  It is a power that can be used to defeat the Witch and repel the wizards.  That is what we fight for, no less than the freedom of our people in the coming ages."

The crowd remained silent.

"The Witches and the wizards think that they will defeat us easily.  They have little respect for our battle traditions.  And they do not understand the power of the Outlanders and this Wand.  We will meet them tomorrow in this valley, and great deeds will take place–deeds that will be written about and spoken of in future generations.  Know that whatever happens, that you will not be forgotten; your bravery and your sacrifice will not be forgotten.  And the children, our children, will live in a world that doesn’t have to fear the Witches."

Hemlock saw Tored rise from his seat, behind Taros Ranvok.  He strode forward to stand on the opposite flank of the young leader, beside Safreon.

Tored spoke then, his voice ringing out through the hall in a way that inspired Hemlock.

"It is time for war!" he proclaimed.  Raising his arm high, with a balled fist, he continued, "Death to our enemies!"

The crowd gave a muted response at first.

"Death to our enemies!" repeated Tored.

The crowd roared in response this time.

"Death to our enemies!" cried Tored once more.

The crowd erupted in response. 

Hemlock was astonished.  She had been unsure of their motivation after hearing them speak at the beginning of the address, but it seemed to her that Taros Ranvok had convinced them.

How many of them will die tomorrow?

She noticed Gwineval looking equally grim.  Their eyes met and his glance confirmed to her that they were both thinking the same thought.

A Tanna Varran beside Hemlock grasped her shoulder, clearly caught up in the passion of battle lust, for which Taros Ranvok had laid the kindling and Tored had fanned to a raging fire.

"My life for you and yours!  But you must kill the Witch!" he cried.

"I will do my best," was the best response that Hemlock could manage to shout to the man, before he was swept away by a wave of motion in the crowd.

Tored, Taros Ranvok, Safreon and Gwineval had decided to split the Tanna Varran forces into two to face each of the approaching armies.  Hemlock had been assigned to deploy with the Tanna Varran forces that were opposing the Wizard and City forces.

Hemlock
fell in
to step with
the rear rank of
a
Tanna
Varran foot company
as the unit moved forward.
 
It had been decided that she would stay
at the rear of this unit, which was positioned in the center of the field
,
because
the Tanna
Varran
s had chosen to employ a tight formation that allowed them to use their spears to maximum effect against the Wizard and City forces.
 
Hemlock needed some room to fight effectively with her sabres and was not used to fighting with a spear.
 
She
planned to
engage
the enemy
in any area where the Tanna
Varran
lines lost cohesion.   Her role was to be that of a roving
fighter
, moving to the point of c
ritical need during the battle.

It had also been decided that the Tanna
Varran
s would try to engage
the enemy no farther from the Town than
the maximum ef
fective range of their Ballistae
, so that they could retreat under the
Ballista’s
covering fire if need be.
 

The Tanna
Varran
s were
walking
forward
resolutely
to
a
preordained line,
moving
in advance of the
approaching
Wizard forces.

Slowly the
Wizard
units in front of Hemlock
’s unit
gained in clarity.
 
There was a large conti
n
gent of City Knights on foot in the front and middle of their line, flanked on each side by units of tattooed Wizard fighters.
 
Behind these front lines, a uni
t of mounted knights rode along
side two lumbering Harvesters, whose great iron limbs glistened with morning dew.
 
The Harvesters
'
joints
groaned as they moved to and fro and their sound dominated the battlefield, taking on a terrifying aspect which seemed to shake the morale of the Tanna
Varran
s.
 
Hemlock wondered if that sound had been magically enhanced, but she did not detect any evidence of that.
Gwineval, who was at her side, hissed loudly to her
.
"Hemlock, can you see an
ything unusual in their lines?"

She was about to respond negatively when something did strike her
as unusual
.
 
She detected a subtle magical vibration coming from the Harvesters directly ahead
—in the center of the battle line
.
 
It was emanating from the sound that they made and it was not amplification magic like she had expected
it to be
, but
magic of
illusion.

"The Harvesters in their center are illusory I think
,
" she s
houted in response to Gwineval.

"
All right!
" Gwineval responded, alerting
the
Tanna
Varran
u
nit commanders that stood near him.

Hemlock looked at
Gwineval
and was nervous for him.
 
She knew that he and Safreon were about to attempt magic that was on the very
frontier
of their abilities.
 
She hoped that they knew what they were doing.

Hemlock continued to stride forward grimly.   She could see that only a hundred yards or so separated the battle lines
of the wizards and Knights and the Tanna Varrans
.

Suddenly the two Harvesters ahead and the two units of First Circle Wizard troops flanking the center Knights took on a wavering appearance.

"
The Wizard units
in the center
are illusion too!
"
hissed Gwineval
loudly
. 
"
They are concentrating their forces at the flanks
!"

"
What should we do?
"
asked Hemlock, noting that the Knights on foot were moving to fill in the gap in their lines left by the illusory Wizard troops.

"You
move to the left flank and I’ll move to the right.  We have to prevent them from turning our flanks
,"
hissed Gwineval urgently. 
He
nodded to her and turned
,
r
u
n
ning
toward the right flank.

Hemlock heard a great clash as the Tanna
Varran
foot
soliders
met the City knights.  The Knights were initially held at ba
y by the wall of spears.  Some K
nights fell under the rain of spear thrusts, but some were able to dash into the Tanna
Varran
lines and initiate desperate swordplay with the lighter armored Tanna
Varran
s.  The Tanna
Varran
s were disciplined, however, and their rear ranks supported the front and felled many knights as they broke through.  The knights were inflicting
significant
casualties with their heavy swords though, which could not be turned by the lighter Tanna
Varran
armor.

Hemlock resisted an impulse to rush into the fray.  She knew that she had to stay with the plan, but she wasn’t used to leaving comrades to fight
alone
and not rushing to their aid.

Hemlock
shook her head
with resignation and turned and ran along the rear of the Tanna
Varran
lines toward the left flank.

She could see that the Harvesters there
, now visible after being hidden by Wizard magic,
were beginning to rain down terrible
destruction
on the Tanna
Varran
units there.  Streams of fire
emanated
from the eyes and mouths of the two Harvesters, immolating
many Tanna Varrans
on the ground.  Hemlock could see that the protective wards which Gwineval had cast on the Tanna
Varran
s were having some effect as she saw several fighters shrug off fire that should have left them horrib
ly burned
and continue to fight.

Hemlock could see the First Circle Wizard units
engaged with the Tanna Varran line in front of her;
these wizards were
inflicting terrible losses against the foot
soldiers
as she got into position behind them on
the edge of their forces.  The First Circle wizards
were
obviously far
more dangerous foes than the City K
nights, although
they were fewer in number
.

Fortunately, the streams of fire
jetting from the Harvesters
had become less frequent.  Looking up, she saw that hundreds of winged Lancers were engaging the
Iron golems
.  They were flying around the
huge
head
s
and casting spears into the eyes and mouths of the
Golems
.  The
wizards
suddenly
switched
their tactics and began
to
throw
lightning bolts
at the flyers.

T
he sound of thunder
claps
resonated over the battlefield. 

The flying Lancers were
now
taking terrible losses against the Harvesters, but Hemlock saw more than one Wizard fall from the head
s
of the lumbering
giants
,
becoming
victims of expert spear throws.

Hemlock paused for a moment and wondered
,
Is Falignus in one of these iron beasts?
  The gravity of the situation made her think of him more intensely for reasons that she didn’t understand.
  Putting aside her thoughts, she
sprinted toward the nearest fighting.

As Hemlock entered the fray, she felt oddly disconnected from herself.
 
She had always felt motivated by some injustice when she had fought in the past.
 
Now, things
seemed so complicated that
she was no longer sure exactly for whom or
for
what she fought.

But soon a Wizard was before her, his tattoos blazing as he launched into a series of thrusts, trying to slay her.
 
Hemlock saw
unmasked
cruelty in th
at
Wizard
's eyes and it heartened her and rekindled her
sense of justice and righteous indignation
.

With a cry she stepped inside a fast, but clumsy thrust and slashed the man's throat.
 
Running, she slashed out the hamstrings of another nearby Wizard and soon she was wreaking havoc amongst the Wizard ranks and the Tanna
Varran
troops near her
were able to disengage and reform
their ranks
.

F
ire began to rain down around Hemlock, singing her hair and burning her
limbs
.
 
The magical resistance which Gwineval and Safreon had cast helped
her resistance
, but she still received
several minor burns from
glancing hit
s
by
stream
s
of f
lame
.

Hemlock
heard a cry overhead and
looked above
her.  She
saw that the Tanna
Varran
flying Lancers had disengaged
from the Harvesters, leaving the wizards in their great iron faces to begin
to concentrate
magical
fire on the Tanna
Varran
ground units again.

Without a thought
,
she prepared to fly into battle against the Harvesters, but then a strange sound rang out over the battlefield from the opposite
side of the Tanna Varran line in the direction that Gwineval had headed
.

Waves of
noise
travelled over the battlefield, producing a strange echo and crackling effect which drowned out the groaning of the great iron limbs of the Harvesters and even the concussive fire
streams that the
wizards
were casting from atop them.

Gwineval is starting his casting
,
Hemlock
realized
,
as she paused
to look toward the right flank
and searched for the serpentine Wizard.

Many
other
eyes also turned toward that sound and
they beheld
a green
, misshapen
form
rising
above the field
i
n pulsating spasms of growth.

Hemlock gasped at the sight.
 
To her, it seemed like she was watching the accelerated growth of some great primordial Lizard.
 
She knew that it was Gwineval transforming himself, but the creature that writhed and cried out as it grew bore only a faint resemblance to him.
The head had elongated and lost all trace of human origin.
 
The upper limbs shortened proportionally, while the lower limbs grew thicker and more powerful.
 
The jaws of the creature, which Hemlock
now had difficulty
think
ing
of as
Gwineval
, became huge and
lined with serrated with teeth.
In mere moments, the
strange green
creature had assumed the full height
of a Wizard Guild Harvester.