The Arcanist (47 page)

“But how could you leave without saying good bye?”

For a moment he was caught almost speechless as he tried to make sense of the crazed. And then he gave up trying. There was no point. Some days Edouard didn't understand his sister, and this seemed to be one of those days.

“I am saying good bye.”

“Not me you dolt!” She slapped him again and Edouard flinched a little under the continuing assault. His cheek was really beginning to hurt. He wondered if he could persuade her to try slapping his other cheek instead.

“Kyriel! Why didn't you say farewell to Kyriel?”

“But – … I –  … why?”

“Because it's what you're supposed to do. But no you just run off and leave her without a single word. You cad!”

Cad? Why was he a cad all of a sudden? And how did she even know that he hadn't said farewell? Not that he had but she surely couldn't know what he'd done and not done an hour or so before. Unless that was more of the hamadryad's magic at work.

“April.” He tried placating her, but by the look in her eyes didn't succeed. At least though she didn't slap him again.

“You left her in tears!”

“Tears?”

Edouard was sure his little sister was going crazy. Had she not met the woman? If there was one thing he knew about Kyriel it was that she would never be caught crying. He doubted she even had the necessary mechanisms to cry. Though she had confused him the last time they'd spoken. More than confused him.

Could she be right? Could Kyriel really have feelings for him? Edouard wondered about that. And in truth it wasn't the first time he'd wondered. Not since she'd treated his wound.

Strangely he suddenly realised he hadn't seen her since then. She'd made herself scarce around the fort and mostly stayed in the shrine or back in the temple for the past few days, while he'd been busy in his workshop. Maybe she'd been hiding from him. Maybe she'd been embarrassed by their conversation. And upset by the fact that he was marching off to war.

Edouard didn't know what to think of that. Whether it was a good thing or bad. But the thought that she might have feelings for him pleased him – even if he knew that nothing could ever come of it.

He was saved from having to say anything more by Thomas who grabbed his hand and started pumping it furiously and telling him how lucky he was to be going to war. As usual he was filled with excitement and far too much vitality as he told him to kill all the rock gnomes he could. He alone thought this was a grand adventure, and if his parents had let him he would have come with them. But then he was only fifteen and had led a sheltered life in the family estate. Until the fall of Theria he had never even seen death.

Next it was Innosen’s turn who it seemed was annoyed at having to sit the fight out. But father had been clear. Someone had to remain behind, and if Marcus was riding into battle, Leona's husband had to stand back. If he hadn't had the spark of fire and thus been valuable to the war, his father would have made him remain behind as well. Meanwhile Edouard's niece and nephew who at ten and twelve didn't really understand the seriousness of what was happening stood shyly beside their father, looking a little confused. But Britta and Henk were good children, well-mannered as their mother demanded that they be, and they politely wished him well and he equally politely thanked them. He even shook their hands. They were too serious he thought, but they smiled when he told them that while the war was being fought they could come and stay in a real fortress. They liked that. Something about princesses and castles he guessed. Leona was always reading them bedtime stories about such things.

In the end it was a short visit. It had to be. Marcus was expecting him at the camp within the hour and much of that time had already been used up. But by the time he left Edouard was feeling much the better for having made it. In the end though he might be the third son and fourth child who could never inherit, nor hold any position in the world, he was still a part of the family. That was what mattered.

He only hoped that he would be able to make this visit again when the war was over.

Chapter Forty Seven

It was Abbotsford where they first met the enemy in battle, and it was sooner than they had expected. Much sooner.

They were barely a day's march into Therion, camped outside of the little, now deserted village, and settling in for the night. The army was in good spirits, many chatting happily with their comrades around the fires, a few singing, and a few despite Marcus' orders, drinking. Edouard suspected he wouldn't be too upset about it, provided they didn't go too far. Ale and soldiers were a natural combination. Stopping them would have been unpopular. His goal wasn't to stop them. Just to make certain that they didn't drink so much that they weren't able to march the next day – or fight.

For his own part Edouard was restless. This was his first campaign, and he hoped the last. He was both excited and nervous and constantly wavering between the two. He was sore as well. He was no horseman, and a full two days in the saddle had left him aching and chaffed in places he didn't like to be chaffed. The only good thing about it was that he had plenty of salve for what hurt.

Marcus had placed him with the other sparks, right in the middle of the army. It was the best place for them he guessed. They were not trained soldiers, and if the enemy attacked or when battle came they would not be in the front lines. They would be standing back a way, lending their aid to the others, and hopefully not getting killed. Part of him liked the idea that they would be protected. But he also felt a little humiliated by it. By the thought that they needed to be looked after, like children. He did have some of the most powerful muskets they had after all, together with a good aim and a now well practised fireball.

Still, Edouard hadn't objected. Marcus was the soldier, not him. And for the moment he was really just looking forward to a good night's sleep. Or at least the best night's sleep he could get on a bedroll. Already he missed his bed, and he hadn't even settled down. Sleep though was soon the last thing on his mind.

An owl hooted, and for a moment Edouard thought nothing of it. Nothing until he heard the sudden silence all around and remembered that there were no owls nearby. It was the sentries, calling out that they'd seen something. Edouard stood with the others around the camp fire and clutched his musket tightly. It might be nothing. It might even be an actual owl. Perhaps there was one in the village. But they all knew it could be the start of something.

“Wolves!”

The cry came from the front, and for a moment Edouard didn't understand. Why would there be wolves anywhere near them? And then his mind clicked into gear. They weren't wolves. The ancient writings had spoken of them. They were fire demon dogs. Fire elementals encased in steel armour that were shaped like wolves. The Cabal had used them as their shock troops in every battle they'd ever faced. That was one of the reasons that he hadn't guessed sooner what the wind demons were. They were a far more advanced soldier and had been used in far less battles. Or at least mentioned less often in the histories.

“Fire dogs.”

He told Hendon and Bar what he thought, but they were already ahead of him, thinking the same thing. As the two sparks of fire that had been hired, they had been preparing specifically for them. And they'd been training for weeks, not just a couple of days like him. He could see the fire in their eyes already and he quickly started gathering his own.

If they were fire dogs he knew his best weapon would be to disenchant them. The fire was bound within the armour by enchantments woven into it. Enchantments they could all undo. As long as it was fire. But if there were any wind demons out there they would be defenceless against them. And against the rock gnomes themselves it would be a matter of using their muskets and fireballs.

They stood there, the three of them, waiting nervously. The other sparks with them were perhaps more nervous still. Their magic after all would be completely useless against the fire dogs. They didn't have to wait long.

There was a sound, metal beating against metal and then a heartbeat later there were men screaming and muskets firing and they knew the battle had been joined.

“Myan now!”

Who shouted it Edouard didn't know, but the man was right. The histories had all said that the rock gnomes preferred to attack by night, thinking that they had the advantage. Perhaps they did. Until someone had thought to hire a spark of light.

Instantly Myan cast his magic into the air high above them and the battlefield turned into daylight. They could see the enemy; better still, the enemy knew that they could be seen. That came as a shock to them and many foolishly looked up into the sky wondering what had happened. They were cut down in split seconds as they did so, having stupidly made themselves targets, and Edouard knew they wouldn't be getting back up. They might be resistant against one or two hits, but this time they were riddled with holes. Not much survived that.

Meanwhile he and his fellow sparks had to worry about the fire dogs. The rock gnomes had brought fifty of them to lead the assault.

It was the first time Edouard had seen one of the demon dogs. He’d heard that they had been spotted elsewhere, and he had seen drawings of them in the books the dragon had given him. But he had never seen one. Now seeing them, he knew that the reality of them was far worse than his imagining.

Like the wind demons they had no actual bodies. They were just pieces of steel armour in the shape of wolves, moving as if they were being worn by the beasts. But where the inside of the wind demons had been spinning eddies of air and dust, the heart of these beasts was fire. They burnt from the inside out, and some of those flames escaped through the gaps between the armour plates, making it impossible for a man with a sword to attack one.

They were a terrifying sight, the more so when they howled, and seeing them Edouard knew why they had been the enemy's shock troops. But he also knew how they worked and why the rock gnomes had been so desperate to get rid of everyone who had the spark of magic. Because the simple reality was that what could be summoned could just as easily be sent away.

Edouard and the other sparks of fire cast their thoughts into their midst – not an easy thing to do when they were charging furiously towards him – and found the nearest enchantment. A moment was all it took. The enchantment was strong but also rigid. It had to be to hold so much fire. And all he had to do was open up the magical bonds between the plates. Edouard did that with a thought, and instantly saw a fireball appear in the distance as the magic was released.

If there was more time he would have congratulated himself, but there just wasn't, and immediately he reached for the next one. The others were doing the same and soon there were fireballs all the way through the pack. But it wasn't enough. Not when a few heartbeats later a good forty of the steel beasts smashed into the front lines.

Men screamed in terror, and he heard the clangs as steel smashed against steel. Edouard saw bodies flying in all directions from the impact, some of them in pieces. He heard screams and saw some of those men flying through the air in flames and he knew it was because the men had drawn their swords and the fighting had become hand to hand. And all he could do was keep breaking down the enchantments one by one. It was too slow.

Someone sent lightning into the horde following the fire dogs, hopefully sending a few more to the afterlife. Just before a band of men charged them with pikes, hoping to either separate the steel plates and release the fire, or else just hold them at bay while the musketeers filled them full of holes.

Then the cannon spoke.

It came as a shock to hear them roar. Their thunder was so loud against everything else. The sound reverberated around the distant hills and shook the ground under his feet. But it was a good shock. And as Edouard concentrated on undoing the fire dog's enchantments he celebrated each and every new crack of thunder.

Soon a dozen fire dogs had fallen to him and the others had been similarly successful. What was left of the pack was no longer a strike force; just a few angry steel clad elementals. Edouard felt pleased by that, but he was still worried by the numbers of rock gnomes he could see emerging from the far side of the village and charging them. There were so many of them! The cannon were firing continuously, tearing holes in the advancing lines, and the soldiers were firing as well. Everywhere he could see rock gnomes falling. But there were just so many of them.

He kept disenchanting the fire dogs, knowing that there were only a few left and that the sooner they were destroyed the sooner the soldiers fighting them would be free to reload and start taking down the enemy. And the sooner he would be free to start lobbing a few fire balls their way.

Thirty seconds was all it took, but by the time the last of the fire dogs was gone the front lines of the enemy were already on them. They hit like waves crashing into one another and there was total confusion in front of them, and for a while Edouard had no clue as to which way the wave would roll. But as he started lobbing fireballs into the pack behind them someone else remembered the plan.

“Myan!” A man screamed the spark's name and instantly Myan responded, sending his light balls deep into the lines of the enemy. The result was immediate. The rock gnomes started screaming, covering their eyes as the eye-wateringly bright light cut through their veils, and that gave their soldiers the chance they needed. They struck back, swords and axes finding the soft parts of the enemy and it was the rock gnomes who screamed. Blinded they couldn't defend themselves, and their soldiers knew exactly how to take advantage of that. That was why Myan's most powerful magic had been held back until just then. To strike confusion into the enemy just when they were within range of the soldiers melee weapons.

Soon it was their lines that were advancing into the rock gnomes. Marcus somewhere up near the front was bellowing orders, and Edouard's hope was that they were winning. They had to be winning!

The rock gnomes began falling back, their lines in disarray, and the soldier's lines began reforming into something solid. Meanwhile Edouard and the others kept sending their magic flying into the fray, adding to the enemy's confusion, and as the fireballs rained down on them they finally broke.

Like mice fleeing when the cover of whatever they were hiding behind was taken away, they ran, scattering in all directions, and Edouard knew then that the battle was won. So did everyone else and the men started cheering and screaming with triumph. Not that they let it stop them shooting the rock gnomes that fled or killing those that had fallen. Nothing could be allowed to stop that.

It was a rout. The rock gnomes were in complete disarray, their lines had been broken, their ordered retreat had become a shambles, and the soldiers put them down in their hundreds. While Myan's light bombs had them blinded they were almost defenceless. They didn't even know which way to run. Some of them even fled straight into the waiting arms of their forces. They didn't last long.

Five minutes later it was over. The enemy was gone and all that was left behind were bodies. Lots of bodies. The battlefield was covered with them. Edouard had no thought as to how many that must be. A battlefield six hundred yards wide and at least twice as many long was now covered in the dead. He knew the rock gnomes' dead had to number in the thousands. The rock gnomes had paid a terrible price for their attack.

But at the same time Edouard was struck by the fact that they could afford to lose such a number. Fifty fire dogs! That said they'd been very busy building their army of bound armoured demons. And an army of three, four or five thousand soldiers? The very fact that they could find so many was frightening. Even if they'd lost perhaps half of them in this single battle, it still left him wondering just how many more they had.

He also wondered how many of their own they'd lost. Most of the bodies that he could see wore the black of the rock gnomes. But not all of them. And unlike the gnomes they had limits on how many more they could call on. Maybe that was why he could see his brother up ahead, already riding back and forth, shouting for the injured to be carried to the healers, and for the dead to be counted. The soldiers wanted to cheer and shout; he wanted to know how many they'd lost and save as many of the rest as he could.

Perhaps that was the real lesson to be learned here. That this was war, and in war, everyone lost. The side that triumphed was the side that lost the least or could afford to lose the most.

Were they that side?

Edouard wondered about that as he heard the cries for the healers being sent out. As he watched the fallen being brought back to the heart of the camp for them to be tended to. He finally understood exactly what it was that the rock gnomes had feared in those with magic. And he knew he and the others could make a valuable contribution to the war. They could undo the rock gnomes’ most powerful magic.