The barrier shattered in an explosion of stone and twisted iron, Sollis and the Lonak ducking the boulders that flew across the courtyard. The four-legged beast that charged through the gate stood at least six feet tall at the shoulder, its massive, hump-backed body covered in a thick shag of black-brown fur. Its broad, bovine features were framed by a massive pair of horns, curving out into dagger like points from a dense mass of bone in the centre of its forehead.
“Muskoxen!” Sollis heard one of the Lonak snarl, the stocky woman with the spear. She darted forward, nimbly diving and rolling under one of its horns to drive her spear into the beast’s flank in what was evidently a long practiced move. The muskoxen bellowed in range and whirled, the Lonak woman leaving her spear embedded in its flesh as she dodged back, fractionally too slow to avoid the horn point that took her in the chest.
The other spear-bearing Lonak surged forward as the muskoxen flung the woman’s body aside. It went into a frenzy of flashing hooves and scything horns, cutting down another two Lonak despite the poisoned spear blades they repeatedly jabbed into its flesh. Sollis sprinted forward and leaned back into a crouch, sliding along the mossy surface of the courtyard to slip under the muskoxen’s belly. The star-silver edge of his sword sliced deep, unleashing a torrent of guts and blood before Sollis slid clear. He came to his feet, watching the animal let out another bellow, pain erupting from its mouth in a gout of steam as it sank to its knees. The Banished Blades fell on it, spears stabbing in a frenzy.
A fresh scream dragged Sollis’s gaze to the now open gate in time to see a Lonak brought down by a trio of apes, claws and teeth biting deep whilst a tide of wolves, cats and apes rushed into the Reach. With a shout the Banished Blades charged to meet them and for a time the courtyard became a chaos of tooth, claw, knife and spear.
Sollis ducked the slashing arm of an ape then hacked it off at the elbow, the animal falling dead a second later as the Black Eye took hold. Whirling he saw a snow-dagger coming for him, long body stretching and contracting like a spring as it closed the distance, mouth gaping. A loud, snarling growl came from Sollis’s left and a brown blur caught the edge of his vision as Red Ears sprinted to intercept the cat. The hound’s jaws clamped tight onto the cat’s neck before they enveloped each other in a savage thrashing, tumbling away into the confusion of the courtyard.
Sollis fought down the pang of guilt as he stopped himself running in pursuit. Despite his promise to Oskin, a swift glance around the courtyard was enough to convince him there was no hope of victory now. The last of the warriors on the wall lay twitching as a crow pecked at his eyes with methodical, precise jabs of its beak. The Banished Blades still battled on in the courtyard but it seemed to Sollis that one died with every passing heartbeat. He saw Fehl-Ahkim bring down a wolf with a blow from his war club before a snow-dagger leapt on his back, its elongated fangs sinking deep into the builder’s neck. Still he tried to fight on, flailing about with his club even as blood fountained from the twin wounds. Sollis lost sight of him as a quartet of wolves closed in, masking him in a mass of red and white fur.
Tearing his gaze away he ran for the stables, hacking a hawk out of the air as it swooped low to stab its talons at his eyes. He found Smentil with bow in hand, crouched behind the bulky corpse of Vensar. The stallion had plainly been set upon by multiple beasts at once, his spine clawed and bitten through in several places and his ribs showing white amidst the mass of gore that had been his chest. Sollis took a morsel of comfort from the sight of an ape lying with its skull crushed under one of Vensar’s hooves.
“At least he went down fighting,” he muttered, hurdling the body and crouching at Smentil’s side. “The tunnel?”
His brother jerked his head to the rear then abruptly tensed and loosed an arrow. Sollis glanced back to see a charging lynx fall dead a few yards away. Proceeding into the part demolished stable, he found Elera crouched at the base of the wall, the two children and their grandfather huddled nearby. Verkehla sat slumped and grey-faced to Elera’s left, Sollis seeing with surprise that her eyes were open.
“She stuffed something foul smelling up my nose,” the shaman said with a grin that was more of a grimace. She flailed a hand at him. “Help me up. We need to find…”
“We’re leaving,” Sollis broke in. “The Reach is about to fall.”
He moved to Elera’s side, seeing her using a long bladed knife to scrape away the mortar surrounding a stone marked with the Far Western symbol for tunnel. Most of the mortar was already gone and Elera grunted as she worked her fingers into the gaps, vainly trying to work the stone loose.
“Won’t come out,” she panted. For the first time Sollis saw fear in the gaze she turned on him, though he doubted it was for her own safety. He bent lower, trying to prise the stone free but finding it stuck fast. Hearing another twang from Smentil’s bowstring he tried again, grunting with the effort and cursing when the stone failed to budge.
“Could try pushing instead of pulling,” Verkehla suggested in an oddly conversational tone. Her voice had the dull, distant quality of one about to lose purchase on the world.
Sollis paused then pushed a hand against the stone. At first nothing happened but then he felt it give a fraction and pushed harder. The stone slid into the wall for several inches before coming to a halt. Sollis renewed his efforts, Elera joining her weight to the labour until whatever obstructed the stone’s path was either crushed or pushed aside and it slid free of their hands. Sollis heard it tumble into some empty space beyond the wall, leaving a gap no more than a foot wide.
“Not much of a tunnel, brother,” Elera observed then shrank back as the lower half of the wall collapsed. The passage beyond was cramped, perhaps four feet tall, but wide enough to allow entry.
“Brother!” Sollis called to Smentil. He cast about, finding an extinguished torch that must have fallen from the parapet above, and quickly struck a flint. “Lead them on,” he said, handing the lighted torch to Smentil. His brother hesitated, doubt creasing his brow until Sollis gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll be along,” he said, hoisting Verkehla over his shoulder.
Smentil crouched and started into the tunnel, Elera pushing the children ahead of her as she followed close behind. Sollis nodded to Khela-hahk who took a brief look into the gloomy passage before spitting and shaking his head.
“Would you rob me of the chance for a good death, Blue Cloak?” he said. Hefting his war club, he turned towards the courtyard then paused and tugged the aged war banner from his belt. “Here,” he said, tossing it to Sollis. “If the banner never falls then neither do the Stone Crushers.”
The skitter of multiple claws drew his gaze back to the courtyard and he flicked an impatient hand at Sollis. “Go!”
Sollis had to cradle Verkehla in his arms as he shuffled along the passage, his head making frequent, painful contact with the rough hewn roof. He kept his gaze fixed on the partly obscured glow of Smentil’s torch, ignoring the soft but insistent protestations of the woman he carried.
“No,” she groaned. “This is not her vision…”
Behind them the sound of the old man’s final battle echoed along the tunnel. The tumult continued for far longer that Sollis expected, making him wonder if the boasts of the Shatterer of Skulls hadn’t been exaggerated after all. By the time the sounds of combat came to an abrupt end Sollis could see the glimmer of morning light ahead.
The tunnel opened out onto a narrow ledge barely two yards wide. It snaked along the face of a tall granite cliff rising to at least a hundred feet above. A brief glance over the edge of the cliff revealed a sheer drop into the misted depths of a canyon far below. He could see no hope of climbing either up or down, leaving them no choice but to proceed along the ledge. Smentil led the way with Elera following, the boy and girl held tight against her side. Sollis was grateful at least that dawn had finally broken, bathing the cliff face in sunlight that was for once unobscured by cloud. Navigating this route in the dark would have been impossible.
After a distance of close to a hundred paces the ledge came to an abrupt end where it met a huge curving outcrop of rock. Where the ledge joined the outcrop lay a single, steel-clad corpse. It wore the rusted armour of a Renfaelin knight, the flesh long since faded from the bones to leave a curiously clean skull. It stared up at Sollis as he came to a halt, its bared teeth conveying a distinct sense of mockery.
“At least one of Morvil’s men made it out, it seems,” Elera observed.
“He was wounded,” Sollis said, noting the withered remnants of an arrow lying close to the fallen knight’s gorget. He set Verkehla down, the shaman groaning as he propped her against the cliff.
“There must have been others,” Elera went on, glancing around at the walls of granite. “Perhaps they climbed out.”
Or got tired of starving and jumped, Smentil signed. He scanned the cliff above with an expert eye before turning to Sollis with a grim shake of his head. No handholds.
A strange groaning sound drew Sollis’s gaze back to the far end of the ledge and the small dark opening of the tunnel. It took him a moment to recognise it as the massed breath of many beasts in a confined place.
“There must be some way,” Elera insisted, sinking to her knees and peering over the lip of the ledge. “If they couldn’t climb up, perhaps they…” She trailed off, then a moment later voiced a soft, surprised “Oh!”
“What is it?” Sollis asked, moving to crouch at her side in the hope she might have discovered some means of navigating the cliff. Instead he found her staring at a cluster of small plants growing from a patch of moss covered rock a few feet down. Plants with narrow stems from which sprouted four, pale white flowers.
“Jaden’s Weed,” Elera said, voice both sad and joyful. She reached out a hand, lowering herself further over the edge.
“I think we have more pressing concerns, sister,” Sollis told her, reaching out to ease her back.
Feeling an insistent pat on his shoulder he turned, finding Smentil sinking into a crouch, bow aimed at the beasts now emerging from the tunnel. The apes came first, streaming out of the hole in a dense mass at least thirty strong, spreading out to scale the cliff above and below. They seemed immune to falling, their claws making effortless purchase on the stone. The cats came next, far fewer in number but showing similar agility. Lynx and snow-daggers seemed to bound across the rock. Of the wolves Sollis could see no sign, making him wonder if they had all perished at the hands of the Banished Blades.
Smentil’s bow thrummed, Sollis seeing a large male ape slip lifeless from the cliff-face, dislodging two of his companions as he tumbled into the depths. Smentil’s next shaft took down a snow-dagger, his third another ape, then his string fell silent. He gave Sollis a helpless shrug, gesturing at his empty quiver before setting the bow aside and drawing his sword. Sollis followed suit, moving to stand in front of his brother and pausing to cast an urgent glare at Elera.
“Do you have any Black Eye left?” he asked.
“A little. But what good will it..?” She fell silent as he switched his gaze to the children. They sat huddled together at the end of the ledge, faces pale though lacking in tears. It occurred to Sollis that he had seen neither of them cry during this whole sorry episode.
“I don’t know why she wants them,” he said. “But I know it will be a kinder end.”
Elera’s features seemed to drain of colour and expression as she stared back at him. In anger or grim resolve he couldn’t tell. “Very well,” she said in a harsh whisper, reaching for her pack.
Sollis turned back to the approaching beasts, finding the nearest ape no more than ten yards off. He was reaching for a throwing knife when the beast came to a sudden, frozen halt. The stillness quickly spread to the rest of the horde. Every ape and cat stopping to hang from the rock, breath misting the air as they stared at their prey, eyes empty of either hunger or rage.
“Such perfect soldiers they make,” a voice said, echoing from the tunnel mouth. The woman emerged into the light in a crouch, straightening to move along the ledge with a somewhat unsteady gait, reminding Sollis of a drunken lush seeking to convince others of her sobriety. Her features were even more emaciated now, streaked by blood that rendered them into something from a nightmare.
She bleeds like Verkehla, Sollis realised. These gifts extract a heavy price it seems.
“No grumbling, no lust for loot or rapine,” the woman continued as she approached. “No wayward thoughts or dreams of past lives to trouble my hold on them.” She came to a halt twenty yards away. Too far for an accurate knife throw. “Would that it was always so easy.”
She angled her head to survey them, baring reddened teeth in an awful smile as her gaze alighted on the children. Sollis saw her lips twitch in anticipation when her eyes tracked to Verkehla.
“Not yet dead,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I thought I felt a spark still fluttering away.”
To Sollis’s surprise Verkehla let out a harsh, half-choked laugh. “Such a fool,” she said, shaking her head as she climbed to her feet. She sagged against the stone and Smentil reached out to help her up, drawing a faint smile of gratitude. She leaned heavily against the cliff as she moved to Sollis’s side, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Baroness Yanna Forvil,” she said. “You’ll find her in a holdfast near the north Renfaelin coast. If she still lives, I should like her to know I never blamed her, never hated her for what she did.”
Sollis reached out to steady her as she swayed but she shook her head, face drawn in pain as she clawed her way along the ledge to confront the woman. “The wolf already took what you came for,” she told her. Sollis took note of how she leaned against the cliff, both hands flat against the stone. “The child is far beyond your reach now.”
The grin disappeared from the woman’s face as her gaze, fiercely inquisitive now, switched back to the children.
“Just bait,” Verkehla told her, laughing again. “And how willingly you stuck your leg into the snare. All the years you have infested this world, and still you retain no more wit than the beasts you command.”
The woman let out a snarl every bit as bestial as anything uttered by one of her beasts. The horde instantly resumed its charge, apes and cats swarming across the stone.
“Water,” Sollis heard Verkehla say and saw that she was smiling at him, fresh blood streaming from her nose and eyes. “It’s in everything, brother. The air, the earth, even the mountains…”
He felt it then, a deep tremble in the stone beneath his boots. “Back!” he told Smentil, pushing his brother towards the far end of the ledge. A huge, thunderous crack sounded and he whirled, seeing a fissure open in the cliff where Verkehla had placed her hands. Fragments of stone flew as the crack extended along the length of the cliff, sending several beasts tumbling into the canyon. He saw the woman charging along the ledge, a short sword in her hand and murderous intent on her wasted features as he closed on Verkehla.
The torrent exploded from the fissure like an axe blade, snatching away the woman and Verkehla with a swift, savage blow. They hurtled into the depths of the canyon, Sollis hearing a final scream of enraged frustration from the woman, but not a sound from the shaman. The water gave a monstrous roar as it continued to pour from the fissure, more cracks snaking through the stone to unleash fresh torrents, sweeping the entire beast horde away in a scant few seconds. It abated after several minutes of fury, leaving them gaping at a misted cliff face shot through with a rainbow as the sun crested the eastern ridge.
Of the beasts only one remained, an ape perched high above the fissure and staring about in obvious terror and confusion. It let out a plaintive hoot as its eyes roamed the canyon, no doubt searching for vanished pack-mates. Its calls subsided when no answers came and Sollis saw it cast a curious glance in his direction before it climbed to the top of the cliff and hopped from view.
Sollis rose from the tight crouch he had adopted, looking down to check on the others. Smentil stared about in relieved amazement, as did the children. Elera’s face, however, betrayed no joy at their deliverance. Instead, clutching her jar of Black Eye with such a depth of shame and guilt on her face that Sollis found it hard to look upon.
“You didn’t…” he began, moving to the children, staring into their eyes for the encroaching grey mist.
“No,” Elera said, voice soft with self-reproach. “I couldn’t. I… I am a coward, brother.”
“Nonsense.” Sollis bent to grasp her elbow, helping her up. “There were no cowards here. Now, let’s see about retrieving your weed.”