Torn By War: 4 (The Death Wizard Chronicles) (26 page)

THE JIVITAN ARMY that surged northward toward Dhutanga was half a league wide and half a mile deep, which included five thousand infantry at its rear along with hundreds of supply wagons. The first row was composed of heavily armored cavalry. Four rows of lightly armored archers followed. This arrangement was duplicated eight more times. It took the army until late afternoon to traverse seven leagues.

In the middle of the first row rode Queen Rajinii, her black hair flowing beneath her helm. To her right were Elu, Torg, Laylah, Ugga, and Bard. To her left, Navarese, Julich, Manta, and two other necromancers. Of the nine hundred in the lead row, only Torg, Bhojja, and ten-score Tugars did not wear armor.

General Navarese called a halt three leagues from the southern border of Dhutanga. Soon after, the queen rode forward and turned to face the army. When she spoke, her voice carried a great distance. Though the horsemen were dispersed over more than one hundred hectares, the majority of them could hear her speech.

“We await the arrival of our ungodly enemies. As we know, the druids prefer to fight at night, hoping to spread terror in the darkness. But we do not fear them, even when the sun has fallen. The
One God
, whom we name
Ekadeva
, will provide us with whatever illumination is needed for victory.”

In unison, the white horsemen cheered. When the clamor dissipated, Rajinii spoke again.

“By the glory of the
One God
, may we all survive the battle. But do not mourn those who die beneath
Ekadeva
’s banner. Their reward will be eternal bliss.”

Amid more raucous cheering, the queen urged Arusha forward. As she passed Navarese and his mount, she said, “The army is yours, general. Do with it as you will. I am now just another soldier.”

Navarese removed his helm and bowed in the high saddle. Then he rode forward and turned to face the massive gathering. When he spoke, his voice also was amplified, and Torg saw that he carried a staff of rare white oak similar to the queen’s, though the gem imbedded in its head was jasper instead of jade.

“White horsemen, we will await our enemies here. But do not mistake torpor for cowardice. To the contrary, we are as confident of victory as we are in our faith. Even so, we will pay a dire price on this day. The druids will show no mercy. Therefore, we must not relent until every one of the enemy is destroyed.”

There was no cheering; only the subtle tapping of countless arrow shafts.

As if in response, the modest beginning of a dreaded sound crept toward their ears from the north.

Humming.

There was a collective series of gasps, but Navarese was not dismayed.

“Every one of you has spent years in training so that on this day you would stand proud.
Discipline
, white horsemen! Trust in it. If you do, we . . . will . . .
prevail
.”

The cheering that followed was the loudest yet, and for a time, it overwhelmed the distant sound of humming—but it could not do so forever.

When Navarese returned to his post, he spoke to the queen in a voice only she and a few others could hear. “Soon I will retreat to a place of safety. I beseech you one final time, your highness. Join me.”

“One final time, I deny your request,” the queen said. “Nay! I will not retreat. None among you have the might to dictate my behavior.”

Again, Navarese bowed in the saddle. “As you say . . . your highness.”

“Indeed!” Rajinii snapped.

TORG PAID LITTLE attention to the orations. Instead, his great mind focused on the sorrow in his heart. Through his psychic connection with the Tugars, the wizard recently had sensed that two Asēkhas had died, though he was unable to identify who or where. Was Nissaya already under attack?

Torg kept his fears to himself, gaining comfort from Laylah’s presence. He held her gauntleted hand, which his bare palm dwarfed. She knew what he must do next, and it was obvious that it troubled her.

“I will return with news of the enemy,” Torg said to the general.

“If it weren’t for the demise of the eagles, I would not ask such a thing,” Navarese said.

“I know this well.”

With Torg on her bare back, Bhojja cantered off. At the last moment, Laylah urged Izumo forward and joined them.

“My love, you must not follow,” Torg said. “Izumo is great, but he is no match for Bhojja.”

“I will not follow. I come only to wish you well.”

Torg smiled. “Rathburt often accused me of enjoying the role of hero, but in this instance, at least, he would be wrong. I am not so vain as to believe that I can defeat the entire druid army by myself. This time, I am a scout and nothing more. No harm will come to me, I promise. Bhojja will see to it.”

The mare nickered.

“If you don’t return, there’ll be no one here to protect me,” Laylah said.

Torg leaned across his horse and kissed her.

“Look for me at sunset!” he cried, before riding off in a blur of hooves and dust toward Dhutanga.

Immediately, Bhojja picked up speed, reaching the southern border of the forest in a fraction of the time it would have taken an ordinary horse. But to Torg’s surprise, the mare came to a sudden halt and bowed, urging him to dismount. When he did, the mare transformed into Jord.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Torg said.

“From here, I would prefer to fly. I can run very fast, but not always quietly. It’s not the druids I fear. They are so consumed by hatred, their senses are blinded. But your friends might hear or see me.”

“Lucius and Bonny?”

“Not them. It is Rathburt who concerns me. The two of you must not meet. The time will come, but it is not now.”

“Says who? Your superiors?”

“You must trust my intentions. Do you believe it possible I would betray you?”

“No.”

“I will carry you, then. But not as Bhojja.”

Then she transformed into the mountain eagle named Sakuna and lowered her head in obeisance. Torg climbed onto her back and nestled in her warm feathers. Though he had ridden on her before, he noticed for the first time that a green glow clung to her skin beneath her plumage. When he touched the shimmering magic, his fingers tingled.

Sakuna sprang into the air and rose above the trees, following Cariya northward, then turning west and skimming the canopy. The green shimmer expanded enough to encase both of them, matching the foliage like camouflage. They flew in silence, casting the barest of shadow.

In a short time, Torg saw the Daasa skittering about recklessly, and then Lucius and Bonny leading the way. Quickly, Sakuna veered slightly north and picked up speed, then lighted on the upper branches of a gigantic poplar, one of the last of its kind to thrive this deep within Dhutanga.

In the soft light of a setting sun, Torg dismounted. The air was still, but the forest was anything but peaceful. The humming shook the largest trees, causing the leaves to dance and hurting even a wizard’s ears. Less than a league distant, Torg saw the first of the approaching druids, and not long after, the monstrous incarnation of Urbana. Torg sensed the vampire’s newly acquired power, fueled by the psychic will of the druid queen. The border of the massive army passed within three hundred cubits of where he and the eagle crouched, but if any noticed their presence, they made no sign.

Soon after, Sakuna and Torg flew farther westward and then veered south, zooming past the druid army with ease. Then the eagle alighted again on a high branch and transformed back to Jord. The white-haired woman pointed down into a hollow that lay below. A pair of figures struggled up its side, one tall and dark, the other less than half its size but glowing like phosphorus. Torg could hear their conversation clearly.

“Is there a flat piece of land anywhere in this demon-cursed forest?” said the larger figure. “Up and down.
Up and down
.”

“I would think an experienced woodsman like you wouldn’t complain so much,” said the smaller of the two.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just stating facts.”

“You seem to enjoy stating the same facts over and over.”

“Hmmph!”

Rathburt, my friend! “I can’t speak to him, even for a moment?” Torg said to Jord.

“I would recommend against it.”

Torg sighed. “Does Peta know I’m here?”

“You know her better than I. What do you think?”

“For some reason, I don’t believe she does.”

“Why would that be?”

“Karma has rarely been so vigorous. I’m not sure even the ghost-child can keep up with it anymore.”

Jord’s face grew alarmed. “It’s time we go,” she said, her green eyes luminescent.

Down below, Rathburt’s voice raised another octave. “My
feet
hurt!”

“You’re a Death-Knower. You’re beyond pain.”

“I’m Rathburt, not
The Torgon
.”

Torg chuckled.

“It’s time we go,” Jord repeated with urgency.

“Very well.” Then he waved at his friend, who continued to struggle up the steep slope. “Goodbye, Rathburt. I hope when I see you again, this nightmare will be over.”

WHEN TORG AND Bhojja approached, Laylah’s heart did a dance in her chest. It had been a restless wait for her and the others. Wagons had passed between the ranks bearing water and grain for the horses, wine and cheese for the riders. Ugga and Bard drank so much, they became sleepy, but Elu paced ceaselessly, wearing a tiny trench in the grass.

“How long has it been?” he said to Laylah. “When will he be back?” he said to Ugga. “Are you sure it was safe to send him?” he said to Rajinii.

“Not very long.”

“Master Hah-nah will be back soon.”

“He wasn’t
sent
. As if anyone could
send
him.”

Finally a Tugar named Ukkutīka, the senior warrior at Jivita, approached the Svakaran and knelt before him. “Have no fear,
Nibbhayo Yuddhako
(Brave Warrior),” the Tugar said. “
The Torgon
is in no danger. Do not waste your energy on worthless movement. Instead, watch your inhalations and exhalations with mindful concentration. It will calm you.”

After that, Elu became more relaxed.

When Torg and Bhojja appeared, they were met with an explosion of cheering, sword clattering, and arrow tapping. Even the destriers nickered in delight, though more for Bhojja’s benefit than the wizard’s.

Elu started to run toward the open plain, but Ugga scooped him up in his massive arms. “Careful, little guy! Do ya want to get trampled?”

Laylah leaped onto Izumo’s back and was the first to greet Torg, their horses side by side.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, my love,” the wizard said.

She kissed him, rather than speak.

Navarese, anxious for news, was the next to approach.

“How close? How many? Are Lucius and the Daasa in position?”

“The druids will reach the border of Dhutanga a few breaths after dusk,” Torg said. “As I estimated, there are five thousand score. And yes, Lucius and the Daasa are where they should be. But there is an unexpected danger.”