The Crow (18 page)

The messenger nodded and vanished down the stairs to the Ernan, Hem supposed. But he and Zelika rushed eagerly to the west wall and stared hard into the distance, screwing up their eyes against the bright sunlight.

He could see that there was movement at the city walls: large siege engines were being wheeled toward the defending towers, and something was happening at the West Gate. Arrows flew through the air, catching the sunlight as if they were on fire, and he could see the occasional flash of magery or sorcery. But Hem stared impatiently beyond the walls, wanting to know what was happening farther afield.

It was a while before they spotted the deathcrows. The guard's starglasses meant he could see farther than Hem and Zelika could. But eventually, behind the mass of the army that filled the Turbansk Fesse, they made out a black, swirling mist rising up out of the hills and moving toward the city. Closer, but dwindling into the distance, they saw with a thrill in their hearts the birds of Turbansk. They were flying much higher than the deathcrows, well out of range of the Black Army's arrows. Ire was bobbing up and down on Hem's shoulder with excitement. Hem resisted the urge to tear the starglasses out of the guard's hands: it was very frustrating not to be able to see clearly.

As they watched, the two clouds of birds, one light, one dark, met in midair. It wasn't until they were close together that Hem could see that the Turbansk birds outnumbered the deathcrows. He started to hop from one foot to another, biting his lip. As they neared their destination, the Turbansk flock divided into two, and then swiftly encircled the deathcrows. For a moment the two forces were clearly visible, and then they seemed to fuse into one.

"They
are
attacking the deathcrows!" said the soldier next to him, letting down his starglasses in astonishment. The other guards looked over from their watch.

"I don't believe it," said another, but looking west he confirmed it for himself. "By the Light!"

The first soldier put the starglasses to his eye again. "The Light willing, they will prevail. I cannot tell... it is just a confusion out there... no, it looks as if the other birds are retreating. No, they are high again, but the deathcrows seem fewer, they do not head this way, anyway..."

It was agonizing. Hem's eyes were watering with the strain of trying to see, and his heart hammered in his ears. Now that the two flocks were embroiled together, he couldn't see which was winning. He could see tiny red flashes arcing upward from the battlefield, and he thought that maybe Hulls were trying to drive off the birds that attacked the deathcrows.

Then he saw the lighter flock climb back into the air, withdrawing. And now there was no sign of a black mist beneath it.

"The deathcrows... the deathcrows have vanished!" said the soldier. "They've just gone!"

"They killed them. They killed the deathcrows!" said Zelika. "Hem, it worked! It really worked!"

Hem stared again into the distance. Now the flock of Turbansk birds was flying slowly back toward the city. It was smaller, he thought, than it had been. But the soldier was correct: there was no sign of the deathcrows behind them. He was filled with a wild elation, and turned to hug Zelika, who was dancing, whooping with joy, while Ire plunged through the air in his own celebration.

Now all the guards were staring at the children. "Do you know about this,
Lios Hlaf?"
the first soldier said, using Hem's nickname. He stared curiously at the boy.

"The birds of Turbansk fight with us," answered Hem, his face glowing. "They fear the deathcrows as much as we do."

"That is clever," said another guard. "But alas, it will not be enough."

"No. But each little bit helps, Inurdar," said the first guard. "You said yourself only yesterday that the deathcrows were a curse beyond the hurt they do us."

Hem and Zelika sobered, remembering that the defeat of the deathcrows was only a small part of the battle for Turbansk. For a moment they had felt as if they had won the war.

A sudden
boom
sounded from the harbor beneath them. They became aware that they could hear the cacophony of battle, faint at this distance, but still clear. He and Zelika exchanged swift glances, and ran to the south wall of the watch.

From this side, the Red Tower dropped sheer down to the Lamarsan Sea. To their right stretched the walls and towers of Turbansk Harbor. Looking down, Hem had an aerial view of a vicious sea battle.

The boom they had heard was from a ramming ship that had smashed into one of the walls of the harbor. It was driven by sorcery, Hem could see, not by wind or oars; it moved too nimbly in the water. Even as they watched, the ship backed swiftly from the wall and drove toward it again. This time they saw the wall give, and one of the smaller towers, newly built and not as solid as the others, half collapsed. Stones tumbled down the side of the wall and splashed into the water. Hem saw some tiny human figures fall with them, and with a sudden constriction of his throat remembered that Saliman was defending the harbor.

Those who fell had little hope of being rescued: he saw bowmen on the black ships shooting them in the water.

"That's what Saliman said Imank would do," said Zelika at his shoulder. "He said there would be attacks from sea and land. And Imank planned to send the deathcrows too, to make defense impossible. Well, there are no deathcrows to help them."

"It's bad enough," said Hem. He could not take his eyes off the harbor.

There were three ramming ships, protected by perhaps half a dozen fighting dromonds, one of which was already broken in two and floated directionlessly on the water, its front half in flames. Standing well back from the immediate battle was a fleet of ships with black sails and figureless black shields painted on their sides. On the deck of each dromond stood dozens of soldiers, so that each ship seemed to bristle with spears.

The dromonds nearest the harbor were in battle with ten Turbanskian ships, which were smaller than those of the Black Army, and more maneuverable; they also, Hem could see, were driven by magery. They were aiming to break the ramming ships, but these were well protected by the enemy dromonds. Then, with a deadly whistling noise, something catapulted from a tower by the harbor and one of the black ships burst into flame. The harbor walls seemed to be raining fire. The black ship blazed so suddenly, from its prow to its stern, that Hem blinked; he couldn't see where the fire came from. He could see people jumping from the deck of the burning ship into the water. Some missed their mark and fell into the sea, sending up great gouts of steam, but others hit three of the black dromonds and one of the ramming ships. The Turbansk ships broke through the line of dromonds and two of them attacked one of the remaining ramming ships, breaking its hull so that it began, with a strange slowness, to list and then sink.

The final ramming ship shot backward, away from the harbor walls, and dodged the Turbansk dromonds. Hem could see that the remaining black ships were also withdrawing toward the waiting fleet. But this time he felt no elation: his eyes were fixed on dozens of figures he could see struggling in the water. He could not tell which were defenders and which were attackers. One of the Turbanskian dromonds was sending down ropes to pull survivors out of the water, but Hem could already see that most of those in the water were fated to drown. He looked away from the smoking wrecks up into the clear blue sky, feeling sick.

"We beat them back," said Zelika with satisfaction.

"A tithe of their strength is all," said the guard who had watched the battle with them. "And we cannot leave the harbor until we destroy the fleet. They wait like wolves for our ships to leave haven."

Hem didn't know how long he had been watching the sea battle; it felt like ages. But he squinted at the sun and realized it had hardly moved. It was still early in the day; the skirmish he had just witnessed had taken very little time at all.

"I don't like this battling much," he said to Zelika.

She looked at him with what he thought was a strange pity. "Whether you like it or not, it is on us," she said.

As she spoke, the air around them suddenly filled with the beating of wings, and the great pelican perched on the western wall, folding his wings and letting out a sharp cry. In the air a creature of grace, when he landed he seemed clumsy and heavy. He called for Hem, using the same nickname given him by the Turbanskians, White Crow. The guard jumped back, alarmed; this close up, the pelican's wildness and size were alarming. Hem strode forward and greeted the bird respectfully.

We destroyed the deathcrows that flew this way,
said Ara-kin.
They fell like rain from the sky. They have no fast ties to life, and die easily.

We saw,
said Hem.
It was a brave sight.

The black sorcerers sent up fire to scatter us,
the pelican continued.
Many of our numbers died by beak and claw and flame. Yet we prevailed.

Our thanks can never be enough,
said Hem, bowing his head.

We fight for our nests, also.
Ara-kin turned his head and looked west.
There are more of these evil creatures. My kin watch the skies, and will see when they stir.

How many more?
asked Hem, dismayed.

At least as many as those we killed,
said the pelican.
But we are more.

Will you fight them, also?
Hem asked.

Ara-kin outspread his wings in a sudden flourish, and despite himself Hem stepped back; the bird's wings must have covered more than two spans.
We will fight them,
the pelican answered.
We fear the black sorcerers. But we will fight them and we will win. Your enemy is very great: I do not think you can kill them all.

Maybe not,
said Hem.
But we must try.

Ara-kin turned his head and fixed Hem with his yellow eye.
Fight bravely, then, as we do. Farewell, White Crow. Send your messenger, if you want word of us.
Ire cawed in assent, and the pelican leaped off the parapet into the air.

Hem watched the bird until he was a tiny speck in the sky, and then turned around to find all the soldiers had momentarily abandoned their watch and were staring at him in undisguised amazement.

"Well, what did Ara-kin say?" asked Zelika.

"He said there are more deathcrows, and they watch them and will destroy them as they did the others," said Hem.

"By the Light, did you think of that?" said the soldier called Inurdar.

Hem blushed and stared at the ground. "It was just a thought in a dream," he said.

"Lios Hlaf is
not the name for
you,"
said another guard. "You should be named the Emperor of Wings. The General of Birds!" The other soldiers laughed, but there was nothing unkind in their laughter, just an amazed admiration.

Hem did not know how to respond to their banter, and suddenly felt very tired. He had had enough of watching battles.

"I'm hungry," he said to Zelika. "And I want to find out if Saliman is all right."

"Let's go back to the Ernan, then," she answered. "It's still early, but I know where the kitchens are."

"Eat while you can," said Inurdar. "These are but the first skirmishes. The real battle is yet to begin."

VIII

S
IEGE