Settings

The Desert Spear

Page 15

   


Abban gripped Jardir’s arm, and he turned to see his friend point a shaking hand at the terrace wall just a few feet away. All along the terrace, the mists were rising, and there on the wall a wind demon was forming. It crouched, wings folded, as it solidified. Neither boy had ever been so close to a demon, and while the sight filled Abban with obvious terror, Jardir felt only rage. He gripped the spear tighter and wondered if he could charge the creature, knocking it from the wall before it was fully formed and dropping it into one of the demon pits below.
Abban squeezed Jardir’s arm so tightly it became painful. Jardir looked at his friend and saw Abban looking right into his eyes.
“Don’t be a fool,” Abban said.
Jardir looked back to the demon, but the choice was taken from him in that moment as the alagai loosed its talons from their grip on the sandstone wall and dropped away into the darkness. There was a sudden snapping sound, and the wind demon soared back upward, its huge wings blocking out the stars as it swooped by.
Not far off, an orange clay demon formed, barely distinguishable from the adobe wall it clung to. The demon was small and snub, no larger than a small dog, but a compact killer of bunched muscle, talon, and thick, overlapping armor plates. It lifted its blunt head, sniffing the air. Kaval had taught that the head of a clay demon could smash through almost anything, shattering stone and denting fine steel. They witnessed its power firsthand as the demon charged them, smashing headfirst into the wards around their alcove. Silver magic spiderwebbed from the point of impact, and the clay demon was thrown back. It moved back up to the wards immediately, though, digging its talons into the cliff face as its head shot forward repeatedly, hammering at the wards and sending magic rippling through the air.
Jardir took his spear and thrust it at the demon’s maw, as he had seen the dal’Sharum do on the trek across the desert. But the demon was too fast, and caught the point in its jaws. The metal speartip twisted like clay as the demon shook its head, tearing the weapon from Jardir’s grasp and nearly pulling him out of the safety of the alcove. The demon whipped its head aside, sending the spear spinning over the wall and into the darkness.
Hasik saw the exchange from his alcove farther down the terrace. He was stationed as a Baiter, and would soon emerge to lead the demons to their doom.
“Waste another spear, rat,” he cried, his s’s still whistling after all these years, “and I’ll throw you over the wall after it!” Jardir felt a burst of shame and bowed, withdrawing farther into the alcove to wait for commands.
The Krevakh Watchers, balanced atop their ladders, could move from one level to the next in seconds. They surveyed the battlefield from above and gave signal to the kai’Sharum, who blew the Horn of Sharak, beginning the dance.
Hasik immediately stepped from his alcove, yelling and cavorting about to draw the attention of the demons nearby. Jardir watched in fascination. Whatever his feelings about Hasik, the man’s honor knew no bounds.
Several clay demons shrieked as they caught sight of him, leaping to give chase. Their short, powerful legs pumped with terrifying speed, but Hasik stood unafraid, letting them commit to the chase before taking off himself, running for the ambush point up ahead, past the first barriers. The clay demon on the wall by Jardir’s alcove leapt at him as he went by, but Hasik twisted and brought up his shield, not only deflecting the attack but also angling the shield so that the magic sent the demon hurling over the wall and shrieking all the way down into the pits—the first kill of the night.
Hasik sprinted into the maze of debris, dodging around the barriers with a speed and agility that belied his heavy frame. He moved out of Jardir and Abban’s sight, but they heard him cry “Oot!” as he approached the ambush pocket. The call was a traditional one for Baiters, signaling to the dal’Sharum at an ambush point that alagai approached.
There were shouts and flashes of magic as the hidden warriors fell upon the unsuspecting demons. Alagai shrieks filled the night, and the sound sent a chill down Jardir’s spine. He longed to make demons shriek their suffering, as well. One day…
As he mused, a Watcher, Aday, popped up over the wall right in front of them. Their twelve-foot ladders were just enough to make it up the wall from one level to the next.
Aday pulled on the stout leathern thong attached to his wrist, drawing the ladder up after him. He moved to set it to scale the next level, but a growl above halted him. He glanced up just as a clay demon leapt at him.
Jardir tensed, but he need not have worried. Quick as a snake, the Watcher had his ladder turned crosswise to catch the demon at arm’s length before it struck. Aday kicked cleanly through the rungs, knocking the alagai down to the terrace floor.
In the time it took the clay demon to recover, Aday skittered back several feet, extending the full twelve feet of the ladder between them. The demon leapt again, but Aday caught it between the side poles and lifted the ladder with a twist, easily hurling the small demon over the wall. In seconds he was back to setting his ladder.
“Bring extra spears to the Push Guard in the courtyard,” he called to them as he sprinted up to the next level, his hands never even touching the rungs.
Jardir grabbed a pair of spears, and Abban did likewise, but Jardir could see the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me, and do as I do,” he told his friend. “This is no different from the drills we did all day.”
“Except that this is night,” Abban said. But he followed as Jardir glanced both ways and darted for Hasik’s alcove, keeping crouched low behind the wall to avoid the notice of the wind demons circling high above the village.
They made it to the alcove, and from there down the steps to the courtyard. Clay demons fell like rain from above as the dal’Sharum drove them over the terrace walls. The ambush points were precisely placed, and the majority of the alagai fell directly into the makeshift demon pits. As for the rest, and the sand demons that had formed in the courtyard, the Push Guard harried them into the pits with spear and shield. One-way wards were staked around the mouth and floor of each pit; alagai could enter, but not escape. The spears of the warriors could not pierce alagai armor, but they could sting and shove and harry, sending the demons stumbling back over the edge.
“Boy! Spear!” Kaval called, and Jardir saw that the drillmaster’s own spear was snapped in half as he faced a sand demon. Seemingly unhindered, Kaval spun the broken shaft so quickly it blurred, driving it into the demon’s shoulder and hip joints, preventing it from finding balance or any footing save in the direction the drillmaster wanted it to go. All along, Kaval continued to advance, pivoting smoothly to add force to thrusts and to bring his shield into play as he forced the demon ever closer to the pit’s edge.
But while the drillmaster seemed to be in no danger from the demon before him, more were falling from the terraces at every moment, and the inferior weapon was slowing him at a time he needed to finish the demon quickly.
“Acha!” Jardir called, throwing a fresh spear. At the call, Kaval shoved the broken shaft down the demon’s throat and caught the new one in a smooth turn that brought him right back in to attack with the new weapon. In moments the sand demon fell shrieking into the pit.
“Don’t just stand there!” Kaval barked. “Finish and get back to your post!” Jardir nodded and scurried off, he and Abban similarly supplying other warriors.