Rise of the Citadel (The Search for the Brights Book 2) (44 page)

Vincent shouted,
“We won’t have long. They
will
come to check if we are still alive.”

“Give me a
moment.” Bowie shouted back and then turned to the archers, “No more teams; all
of you on my mark. Vincent, how far out are they?”

“ A hundred
paces when I last looked, give or take,” He replied.

Bowie stepped
back and started shouting, “All swordsmen to the gaps and all archers behind
me!”

A moment later
knights and archers came pouring into the small gap they had established at the
last panel and Borgen and John came running to the center.

Borgen looked
around and saw everyone awaiting Bowie’s order, “Have you taken charge?”

“No one else was
here giving orders, Sir.”Bowie said.

“Report then, I
am here to give orders now,” Borgen wiped his blade clean on one of the fall
soldiers.

Bowie nodded his
head and watched as a bloody Chit came trotting by. His sack jingled of metal
as he passed Bowie to join the other swordsmen at the gaps. He neglected to
wipe the dripping blood from his mule-headed blade. He was armored but did not
carry a shield.
He is either stupid or welcoming danger.

Bowie reported
“Sir, the rest of the Fire Realm army is on the other side of this last panel.
Their men are about one hundred paces out from it” Bowie said pointing at the
last gap.
            “Well, you gathered all the men here, what was your plan now?”
Borgan asked examining his knights.

“Sir, I suggest
a volley; draw them to us. If we cross into that gap, we will be pinned against
the wall,”Bowie argued.

The large stoic
Lieutenant pointed behind the men.

“The panels and
forest behind us burn as it is. Soon we will be pinned here either way.” Borgan
stood still waiting an answer from Bowie.

“We need to draw
them in. We do not have enough arrows or men to fight their army. If we manage
to take them on in small groups we will last longer.”

The lieutenant
nodded in acceptance of that being true. Borgan smiled, “Let them bring this
war to us now that we have traveled all the way here. I like it.” Borgan patted
on John on the shoulder, “You lead the archers, so take charge. I will take the
front line with the swords.”

They nodded at
each other. Bowie joined the line of archers as each men readied an arrow for
flight.

A collision on
the other side of the wall erupted into flames that seemed to crawl over the
top. John quickly gave the order to raise bows and soon a volley was released
into the enveloping smoke. Cries of pain could be heard as John gave the order
for a second volley. The second twang of the bow seemed to give hope to Bowie.
They had managed to take control of the Fire Realm’s defenses and give the
advantage to their own men.

After the second
volley, a large crash could be heard on the opposite side of the wooden wall.
Borgen, with a few of his men, ran to the back of the wall the archers were
hiding behind. The wall started to tilt inward, threatening to fall in on top
of their men. Borgen already had the soldiers there to prop it up. Another
crash of ice and flame threatened to speed the collapse. Auburn leapt into the
fray using imbued strength to push on the wall.

Panicking, Bowie
followed after. Two more earth wielders should have been able to change the
direction of the walls falling, but it wasn’t. Bowie pushed hard, watching the
wall creep ever closer to crushing Auburn. He felt another slam of magic into
the far side of the wall. His feet began to lose their footing as the soft dirt
gave way to the barrier. Bowie pushed with all his might, he even tried to
picture himself as a tree. He remembered something Mica had said to Kilen;
Wind
may be the strongest of the elements
.

Bowie left the
wall, leaving Auburn and all the wielders still trying to hold it up, then held
out his hands as if it would help him bring the wind. He was always slow to
start, but he closed his eyes and willed the wind to his command. The yellow
swirling magic began to tame and align itself with his will. The others cried
out as now they would surely all be crushed by the weight lowering itself onto
them. At first, a gentle breeze then slowly a stronger wind amassed until the
archers were moving out of the way to keep from being blown under the wall.

Finally, like a
kite, the wall began to move in the opposite direction. With the combined
strength of his magic and the muscles of the others, the wall still held its
ground. Bowie opened his eyes and saw a pleading Auburn straining to survive.
He couldn’t understand it, but his abilities increased. The wind howled and the
wall lifted off of the fingers from everyone that touched it, as if there was
no weight to it. It lurched forward into the air, the wind digging it out of
its hole and dropping sand and debris on those it hovered over. Twenty to
thirty paces forward, Bowie dropped the wall onto the ground, revealing his men
to the army, but freeing them of the weight.

Shields were
retrieved and arrows launched into the oncoming wave of men. Bowie watched as
the Fire Realm now ran at the small band of less than a thousand men grouped
together. Fire balls launched from some as well as shards of ice that hurdled
through the air. Magic from both sides collided in an explosion of elements.

It seemed that
the regular metal and wooden weapons were the only real instruments of killing
in this battle, as magic users did little other than negate each other. Bowie,
on the other hand, did nothing. He didn’t knock an arrow or run to support the
others. He stood feeling the wind on his hair. He had control of the wind. He
was the wind. He flexed his magic like muscles, expanding his control to its
limits, feeling the strength at which he had attacked the wall.

He turned around
to feel the wind on his face and saw a tremendous black cloud trailing up from
the burning forest behind him. A smile touched his face, Bowie could control
the cloud. The cloud changed directions and started to flow down instead of up.
It moved with the speed of a person diving into water; it dove through the air
and crashed onto the battlefield, plunging the enemy army into darkness.

Someone with
magic resisted the black poisonous air forming a clean pocket of air beneath
the cloud, Bowie let them for the moment. He was the wind. Bowie lashed out
trying to throw an enemy soldier back by striking him with a forceful blow, but
watched as the soldiers leather belt ripped open and a slash appeared on his
chest. Bowie had formed a weapon out of the wind. Bowie walked forward for a
clearer view; he couldn’t see the army that his black cloud consumed, and if he
couldn’t see them, he couldn’t stop them. He had the overwhelming need stop
them, they had tried to crush Auburn.

Bowie’s mind
moved forward, but his feet did not move. He could feel his feet but they were
a long way behind him now. His body collapsed where he was standing. He felt as
is his body was the wind. He knew exactly what he was now, an elemental. Lite
and without weight he moved swiftly amongst the army slashing and throwing men.
Kilen had formed a elemental before, training Bowie in the form of a swirling
cone. Bowie emulated that shape, becoming a black cyclone of heated smoke and
debris.

Some of the Fire
Realm’s men possessed wind magic of their own and tried to change control, but
Bowie already had his grasp of the air and rebuked them when they pulled. Men
were thrown from his way, others were cut down by concentrated blasts of air.
Bowie watched as the lines of the Fire Realm broke, and the remaining men began
to run. Only a few wielders stood firm to fight. He pushed them in different
directions to scatter them on the battlefield.

Four of the
wielders held their arms together as they sent waves of magic against what was
left of the thousand Earth Realm soldiers. The men must have had imbuements of
strength because Bowie’s attempts to separate them did not work. He even
managed to lift them all from the ground and throw them forward five paces. The
men got up and started running together towards the wooden panel defenses the Earth
Realm hid behind. One launched repeated attacks of flames, another spears of
ice. Vines reached from the ground grasping the wielders and archers protecting
Bowie’s body. They were too close for Bowie to fight with the wind so he turned
his attention to the others on the field.

Bowie felt a
weight, but not on his elemental body; on his physical one still amongst the
archers far behind him. The weight was crushing him, making it hard to breath.
He felt his body more as the pain increased. He hurriedly threw wind at the
fleeing army. His physical body began to pull at his lungs for air, until his
consciousness snapped back from the elemental it was in. His body was was
laying face up with Auburn on top of him and another knight on her, struggling
to fight one of the four men that had broken through their lines.

Fire and ice
spears ravaged the men as they struggled to keep their footing on the shaking
ground. The struggling men on Bowie toppled over onto the ground, letting him
catch his breath. Auburn quickly ended the struggle by stabbing the unarmored
man in the neck with an arrow. The ground stopped shaking and arrows were
loosed with steady hands once again. The threat in the camp ended with the
man’s breath trying to draw in from the arrow hole Auburn had made.

Vincent ran
around and freed the Fire Realm’s wielders of their burdensome imbuements and
stuffed them into his canvas sack. Some of soldiers retrieved imbuements from a
few of their own fallen comrades.

Covered in
blood, John made his way to Bowie, “Borgen is dead.”

Bowie went to
remove his hat but remembered he didn’t have one. “You should probably gather
the archers and ready for another attack,” Bowie said to John still trying to
catch his breath.

Vincent finally
made his way to John, “The Fire Realm is fleeing. We lost quite a few men in
that last fight. I want your men ready to move back to camp as soon as
possible.” Vincent turned to Bowie, “You did well and probably saved all of our
lives, Archer.”

All of Bowie’s
former soldiers patted him on the back as they passed to help carry their
fallen comrades. Bowie went to help carry Borgen, but was turned away by the
armored wielders.

John grabbed him
by the shoulder as he tried to pick up one of his former archers. “I need you
to keep the men steady while they carry the fallen.”

Bowie nodded at
John and began reenergizing the weary, blackened faces so their dead could be
collected. All the men worked in silence until they were on their way back to
camp, and even then, few words were uttered.

**********

  Fleeing
towards the Fire Realms forces Mary stopped behind a large evergreen and
started to cough; smoke must still have an effect on fire wizards. Kilen used
his magic to trickle water in his eyes and down his throat just as Brent had
taught him when spying on Chit in the castle. He cleansed Mary’s eyes and
filled her cupped hands with water for her to drink.

  “I’m feeling
better now.” He said even though he wasn’t; there was still a crying man and a
knot of a warrior still inside his head.

Jace formed a
body briefly to point Kilen in the direction he should go.

He stood and
pulled Mary to her feet, “We need to go this way. Hurry.”

  There was no
way for Kilen to tell which direction he was going. There were only trees and
smoke. He managed to find a member of the Crimson, bleeding from small cuts he
had taken. Kilen refreshed his eyes and offered him a drink. They continued on,
blindly trying to escape King Atmos.

  Mary hurried
Kilen on as the Crimson warrior reluctantly followed. Every few minutes another
soldier would be found and helped. Some had gathered into small groups, but
they came together and continued on to escape the smoke. Kilen wondered where
all the smoke was coming from; the king had only thrown one ball of fire and
Mary had only ignited a few trees during the skirmish, yet the air was thick
with the choking fog.

  The farther
from Atmos they traveled, the more the smoke lightened. Kilen and the others
started to run to clear themselves of the trees. Kilen followed Pada and the
rest of the Crimson chosen to attend the meeting. Pada was the Crimson’s
leader, he was older than Elric and seemed to care little for pleasantries. He
kept looking back to see if Kilen had left the group.

  Mary had a
hard time keeping up, but Kilen used his magic to rejuvenate her a couple
times. He offered his strength to the others, but they refused. In his few days
in the Fire Realm’s defenses, he’d come to know them as a very proud force.
They devoted their days to learning weapons and combat. It was a wonder King
Atmos had tried what he had with them around. These men lived for battle and
Atmos had promised it to them with a handshake.

  Kilen looked
up in the direction they were running and saw smoke trailing into the sky. He
slowed his run as the others stopped to look at what he saw. Pada stopped when
he noticed Kilen and the others looking at the sky.

“Your king has
betrayed your meeting. He’s taken our king captive and now attacks our men.”
Pada ended his speech by spitting at Kilen’s feet.

  The smoke
cloud gathered into a black tornado, throwing men and debris above the
treetops. Kilen could barely make out the shapes in the distance.

A voice
whispered to him, “Do not go to close. Men are dying there.”

Kilen knew that
it was Jace’s voice, but none of the soldiers knew where it was coming from.
Using the wind vision Kilen could see Jace’s shape on the wind. He knew it to
not be a warning of physical danger but danger to those like Kilen trying to
avoid gathering more voices.