Crown of Crystal Flame
Page 33
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Tairen breath and tairen venom combined. Fire exploded from Rain’s muzzle, a great, incinerating jet of magic flame that burned hotter than any natural fire. Stone, flesh, bone, magic: Nothing could long withstand the searing fury of tairen fire.
The sky before Rain went dark with sel’dor arrows, shrapnel bolts, fiery mortars, all hurtling towards him as he hurtled towards them. Unfaltering, he flew, clearing a path with his flame. The scurrying ants on the wall became people, armored men lifting bows, racing to reload artillery, the oval shapes of their faces illuminated by moonlight. He drew a deep breath, filling his lungs.
The boiling cloud of tairen flame engulfed the western wall of Kreppes, consuming the bowcannon and trebuchets mounted there, along with all the troops that manned them. The tip of Rain’s tail raked the northwest tower as he passed, gouging a crater in the tower’s outer wall. The supporting wall compromised, the tower collapsed, raining stone and screaming, flailing men into the spike-filled pit below.
Steli, Xisanna, and Perahl strafed the other walls with similar results.
Roaring in fierce triumph, the four tairen circled and dove in for a second run.
In the few chimes’ respite from bombardment afforded by the tairens’ attack on the castle, the allies regrouped. Bel sent out a massive Spirit weave to locate and summon the men next in the chain of command of the Celierian forces. As the new leaders of the Celierian forces made their way to the Fey encampment, the field commanders gathered their troops, and the chaos of the allied camps yielded to a ragged semblance of order.
In Ellysetta’s makeshift healing tent, the first of the wounded had arrived on her tables—men with limbs missing, skin scorched away, screaming in agony.
“Las, las,” she crooned, stroking bloody, burned brows. “I am with you. Don’t be afraid. Ssh. There is no pain, kem’storran. There is only warmth and light. Do you feel it?” A golden glow of powerful magic radiated around her as she worked. The rest of the world, the other wounded, the battle raging less than a mile away: All faded from her consciousness. The entirety of her thoughts, the concentrated power of her great magic, was focused solely on each dying man carried to her table.
Gaelen and her secondary quintet ringed around her, keeping close by her side as she spun her healing weaves.
Despite Ellysetta’s orders, Bel and the other warriors of her primary quintet refused to leave her. Instead, to accommodate Ellysetta’s commands without fighting the dictates of their lute’ashieva bonds, Bel had set up a military command post beside her healing tent, and it was there that he, Tajik, Rijonn, and Gil met with the Fey commanders and the new leaders of the Celierian forces.
A map of Kreppes and surrounding area—modified by Rijonn to show the recent fortifications and topographical changes—lay flat on a large table. The commanders gathered around it.
“Most of our heavy siege was inside the castle,” Bel said, “but we still have the trebuchets and bowcannon mounted on the hilltops.” He spun a Spirit weave to mark their locations. “These are within firing range of Kreppes.” He indicated the siege directly north of the castle. “We need to reposition them to provide cover fire for the tairen and do what we can to keep the cannon off those walls. Quintets of Earth masters will move the others into position here and here and here.” The small, glowing replicas of the siege weapons on the far eastern and western hilltops disappeared from their current locations and reappeared in the formations placed to attack the west, east, and south walls of the fortress. “The rest of the Earth masters will start constructing siege towers and ladders to scale the walls.”
“Commander Tarr.” Bel fixed his gaze upon the Celierian officer in charge of the king’s archers. “I need your archers in position along these lines.” He pointed at the map and drew the lines in Spirit. “When the tairen aren’t firing the castle, your men should be.
“Commander Nevin, Chatokkai vel Amah, as soon as the towers and ladders are ready, you’ll lead your men up the southern wall. Commander Bonn, our Earth masters are working on a battering ram. Your men will storm the gate on my signal. Fifty quintets will accompany each of your attack forces to weave shields and keep Mage Fire off you.”
Bel stepped back from the table. “My lords, my blade brothers, we either retake Kreppes, or we bring it down.”
In the outlying fields surrounding Kreppes, two dozen men broke off from the mass of Sebourne troops, each taking a different direction into the crowd of allied troops.
There were so many men running hither and yon, no one paid any attention to Sebourne’s men… or the small white stones they dropped in their wake.
Two young Celierian infantrymen rushed through the crowded encampment towards the area where Commander Bonn was marshaling his forces. One of the two fell behind, and his companion turned to scold him.
“Get a move on, Kip. The battering ram is nearly done, and Commander Bonn won’t wait on us.”
“Wait a chime, Jamis,” Kip said. “I thought I saw something over here.” He took a few steps towards one of the paths between the lines of allied tents, drawing his sword as he went.
“Saw what? Kip!” his companion exclaimed. Kip had disappeared into the shadows between the rows of tents. “Kip!” He started towards the place Kip had disappeared, then stopped when his friend emerged from the shadows. “What was it? Kip? Are you all right?”
Kip had a strange, disoriented look on his face. His sword arm dangled at his side, and his fingers curled loosely around the hilt of his unsheathed blade.
The sky before Rain went dark with sel’dor arrows, shrapnel bolts, fiery mortars, all hurtling towards him as he hurtled towards them. Unfaltering, he flew, clearing a path with his flame. The scurrying ants on the wall became people, armored men lifting bows, racing to reload artillery, the oval shapes of their faces illuminated by moonlight. He drew a deep breath, filling his lungs.
The boiling cloud of tairen flame engulfed the western wall of Kreppes, consuming the bowcannon and trebuchets mounted there, along with all the troops that manned them. The tip of Rain’s tail raked the northwest tower as he passed, gouging a crater in the tower’s outer wall. The supporting wall compromised, the tower collapsed, raining stone and screaming, flailing men into the spike-filled pit below.
Steli, Xisanna, and Perahl strafed the other walls with similar results.
Roaring in fierce triumph, the four tairen circled and dove in for a second run.
In the few chimes’ respite from bombardment afforded by the tairens’ attack on the castle, the allies regrouped. Bel sent out a massive Spirit weave to locate and summon the men next in the chain of command of the Celierian forces. As the new leaders of the Celierian forces made their way to the Fey encampment, the field commanders gathered their troops, and the chaos of the allied camps yielded to a ragged semblance of order.
In Ellysetta’s makeshift healing tent, the first of the wounded had arrived on her tables—men with limbs missing, skin scorched away, screaming in agony.
“Las, las,” she crooned, stroking bloody, burned brows. “I am with you. Don’t be afraid. Ssh. There is no pain, kem’storran. There is only warmth and light. Do you feel it?” A golden glow of powerful magic radiated around her as she worked. The rest of the world, the other wounded, the battle raging less than a mile away: All faded from her consciousness. The entirety of her thoughts, the concentrated power of her great magic, was focused solely on each dying man carried to her table.
Gaelen and her secondary quintet ringed around her, keeping close by her side as she spun her healing weaves.
Despite Ellysetta’s orders, Bel and the other warriors of her primary quintet refused to leave her. Instead, to accommodate Ellysetta’s commands without fighting the dictates of their lute’ashieva bonds, Bel had set up a military command post beside her healing tent, and it was there that he, Tajik, Rijonn, and Gil met with the Fey commanders and the new leaders of the Celierian forces.
A map of Kreppes and surrounding area—modified by Rijonn to show the recent fortifications and topographical changes—lay flat on a large table. The commanders gathered around it.
“Most of our heavy siege was inside the castle,” Bel said, “but we still have the trebuchets and bowcannon mounted on the hilltops.” He spun a Spirit weave to mark their locations. “These are within firing range of Kreppes.” He indicated the siege directly north of the castle. “We need to reposition them to provide cover fire for the tairen and do what we can to keep the cannon off those walls. Quintets of Earth masters will move the others into position here and here and here.” The small, glowing replicas of the siege weapons on the far eastern and western hilltops disappeared from their current locations and reappeared in the formations placed to attack the west, east, and south walls of the fortress. “The rest of the Earth masters will start constructing siege towers and ladders to scale the walls.”
“Commander Tarr.” Bel fixed his gaze upon the Celierian officer in charge of the king’s archers. “I need your archers in position along these lines.” He pointed at the map and drew the lines in Spirit. “When the tairen aren’t firing the castle, your men should be.
“Commander Nevin, Chatokkai vel Amah, as soon as the towers and ladders are ready, you’ll lead your men up the southern wall. Commander Bonn, our Earth masters are working on a battering ram. Your men will storm the gate on my signal. Fifty quintets will accompany each of your attack forces to weave shields and keep Mage Fire off you.”
Bel stepped back from the table. “My lords, my blade brothers, we either retake Kreppes, or we bring it down.”
In the outlying fields surrounding Kreppes, two dozen men broke off from the mass of Sebourne troops, each taking a different direction into the crowd of allied troops.
There were so many men running hither and yon, no one paid any attention to Sebourne’s men… or the small white stones they dropped in their wake.
Two young Celierian infantrymen rushed through the crowded encampment towards the area where Commander Bonn was marshaling his forces. One of the two fell behind, and his companion turned to scold him.
“Get a move on, Kip. The battering ram is nearly done, and Commander Bonn won’t wait on us.”
“Wait a chime, Jamis,” Kip said. “I thought I saw something over here.” He took a few steps towards one of the paths between the lines of allied tents, drawing his sword as he went.
“Saw what? Kip!” his companion exclaimed. Kip had disappeared into the shadows between the rows of tents. “Kip!” He started towards the place Kip had disappeared, then stopped when his friend emerged from the shadows. “What was it? Kip? Are you all right?”
Kip had a strange, disoriented look on his face. His sword arm dangled at his side, and his fingers curled loosely around the hilt of his unsheathed blade.
