13

Cineste

ALMOST A THOUSAND TIELLANS gathered in the streets of the tiellan quarter of Cineste as the Druids prepared to leave—nowhere near the majority of tiellans in the city. Winter did not like leaving so many behind, but she hoped this exodus would set a precedent. She hoped soon many others would follow.

Some of the elders and matriarchs had already begun leading tiellans out of the city, while Winter, Ghian, and Matriarch Esra remained to lead the main group. Gord, Darrin, and Eranda waited nearby with the children, but Winter had yet to speak to them. She was not sure what to say to Gord and Eranda. They hadn’t told Darrin the details of how the men at the Druid meeting had died, and that somehow made it worse. They clearly weren’t interested in discussing what had happened, let alone hearing what Winter had gone through to bring her to that point.

Winter stood in the middle of a crossroads near the Wolfanger Inn with Galce and Urstadt. Urstadt wore full armor, including her wicked-looking barbut, rose gold to match her armor but fashioned in the shape of a gaping horned skull. She carried her glaive as well, and a short sword at her waist. Urstadt was dressed for battle, on the chance that the humans might resist the tiellan exodus. Other tiellans, mostly those who had been training as Rangers, were armed as well, although they were doing their best not to appear as a military force. They were trying to leave the city, not threaten it.

Winter carried her pack, as well as the pouch attached to her belt, both full of faltira. If something happened, she would be prepared this time.

Throughout the morning, the Cinestean City Watch had hovered over the tiellan quarter. Winter could see a brace of them now, spears in hand, at the end of one street.

Winter walked up to Ghian. “How many of those you’ve trained are with us?”

“About a hundred and fifty,” he said. “But… but they are not soldiers, Winter.”

They might need to be, soon enough.

Ghian gave a brief, inspiring speech, about how the tiellans had been friends of nature before, and would become so again, and how this was their opportunity to make that happen. He could still work a crowd, even when he internally opposed the decision to leave. The Druids, packed together in the streets around the crossroads, received it well; Winter observed hope on most of their faces, although caution and fear were equally prevalent.

Winter’s hand crept toward the pouch at her belt, and she willed it to stop. She did not want to take frost now, only for the high to expire when she actually needed it. She could wait. She could do that much, at least.

When Ghian finished his speech, he took his place at the front of the tiellan crowd. Winter stood to his left, Matriarch Esra on his right. Urstadt remained directly behind Winter, with the other Pranna tiellans a few paces back in the crowd. Winter couldn’t help but wonder what the tiellans thought of her—a young tiellan woman most of them had never heard of, without a siara, suddenly walking next to their Druid leader. She could hazard a guess that, in short enough time, they would all know exactly who she was.

Winter could not say why, but she expected more than what happened next. Ghian simply started walking, Winter and Esra followed, and the rest of the tiellan crowd began to move behind them.

They marched quietly at first. Winter caught a few whispers, and the cries and shouts of children along the way. Winter felt, for the briefest moment, that the silence suspended her and all the tiellans around her. She felt a connection with her people, a singularity of purpose, as they moved together through the city. Perhaps she was not so different from them after all.

The more they walked, the more people began to talk behind her, and soon the tiellan crowd was abuzz with conversation, and the sacredness of the silent moment departed. The Cinesteans they passed along the way stopped to stare at the strange exodus. News traveled faster than the tiellan crowd, and soon both humans and tiellans lined the streets, cautiously hanging back, interspersed with groups of City Watchmen. She could not help but notice the rarity with which she saw members of the City Watch. She would have thought there would be more of them, monitoring the tiellan march.

Looking up, Winter saw other people leaning out of windows, staring with open curiosity at the anomaly before them. She wondered what the tiellans who remained thought of the Druids leaving the city. The Druids had attempted to get word out, convincing others to leave with them, but the response had been reluctant at best.

The elders had chosen the Tiellan Gate as their departure point. It stood perhaps twice the height of a man and consisted of a single large wooden door. The door itself led to a tunnel through the outer wall, inside of which multiple iron portcullises could be lowered. The tunnel opened into a large field of gradual rolling hills on the southeastern side of Cineste. Winter and Ghian were the first in the procession to walk through. Funneling a thousand tiellans through the Tiellan Gate would be a logistical nightmare, and Winter wished she’d argued more strongly against it.

The sun greeted them as they emerged from the tunnel onto a grassy incline. Almost immediately, Winter noticed a large group in the distance at the crest of another low hill.

Urstadt stepped up beside Winter. “Who are those people ahead of us?”

Winter hesitated. “I think they’re the previous groups that left the city,” she said. “They should be waiting for us.”

“I am not sure that is accurate,” Urstadt said slowly.

“No,” Winter said, squinting at the group. A hard knot of fear was forming in her chest. “I’m not sure it is, either.”

The group was farther away than she’d thought, and packed together tightly. As Winter led the march up the incline, she got a better view of the hills around them. Scattered across the rolling hills between herself and the group ahead were hundreds of dark forms, barely smudges against the yellowish-green of the fields. Some alone, others clumped together, all of them still and unmoving.

Bodies.

Winter swore. She could make out many riders on horseback in the group ahead of them. Tiellans who owned horses in Cineste were few and far between.

“That’s the City Watch,” Winter said. The hard knot in her chest grew as it sank and filled her gut.

“And those are the tiellans the elders and matriarchs led out before us,” Ghian said softly, looking out at the corpses on the rolling fields. Then he swore sharply, turning on Winter. “I told you we should not have left yet. We were not ready.” He pointed his finger in Winter’s face. “Their blood is on your hands.”

What Ghian said was true. She should have known something was wrong when she saw so few of the City Watch actually monitoring their march through the streets of Cineste. She should not have allowed the others to lead groups ahead of the main Druid body. There were many things she should have done, and had not.

She packed the guilt, fear, and anger away for a later time. Instead, she reached into her pouch, but stopped herself. She needed to save her powers for the imminent battle.

“We need to break through their force,” she said, her mind racing. “The future of our group, of this movement—Goddess, of our entire bloody race—rests on what we do next. If we don’t make it through, or if we take heavy casualties, the Druid movement will be crushed beyond repair. But if we can break them, we keep hope alive.” And ourselves as well.

Ghian, his eyes wide with fear, nodded. He looked back at the tiellan mass behind him, still pouring out of the Tiellan Gate. “Rangers!” he shouted. “Into formation at the head of the crowd, immediately!” Armed tiellans began pushing their way forward.

Then, he turned to Winter. “I am a spiritual leader,” he said. His voice trembled, but he met her eyes unwaveringly. “I am not a general. You’ve gotten us into this, and I need you to get us out of it.”

“Yes.” The moment she said it, the lead ball in her stomach vaporized. This time, she did not need to consult Chaos. She knew exactly what she needed to do.

Be a weapon.

And with that thought, Winter was surprised at the swelling purpose she felt within herself. That moment of belonging, of suspended purpose she had felt in the city as they walked in silence, returned. Even as a little girl she had never felt she belonged among her people. She had never felt she belonged anywhere, to be fair, but least of all with other tiellans. Even when her father was alive, even when she was growing up, she’d always felt out of place. Without purpose.

But now… now she felt something different.

She had value. She could not remember the last time she had felt as though she had something to contribute.

“Should we treat with them?” Ghian asked.

“Look around, Ghian. They did not treat with those we sent before us. They will not treat with us. Our only option is to fight our way out of this.” Winter observed the armed tiellans, lining up directly behind them.

“Are any of your Rangers at the end of the column?” Winter asked. When Ghian didn’t respond, she grabbed him by the arm.

“Ghian. Have you set up a rearguard?”

“I… no. No, I haven’t.”

“Do it.”

“It will split our forces,” Ghian said. He stared at the City Watch, eyes wide.

Winter looked to Urstadt, who nodded at her. “We need a rearguard,” she said. “We cannot risk an unprotected attack.”

Ghian’s voice was monotone. “But we’ll need all the Rangers in our front ranks to deal with the Watch.”

Winter grabbed Ghian by the shoulders, forcing him to look at her.

“You asked me to lead, Ghian. Let me lead.”

Ghian’s face was pale, but he nodded. “Yes, you’re right.”

Winter released him. “Take a fifth of the Rangers to the back of the crowd,” she said. “Lead the rearguard. We need someone there to take charge. Leave Urstadt and myself to lead the vanguard.”

“All right,” Ghian said. He began to walk away, but turned to look at her.

“What if the Rangers in the vanguard aren’t enough?” he asked.

“Then you have me,” Winter said.

This, surprisingly, seemed to calm Ghian down somewhat. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

As he walked away, Winter called after him. “Tell the Rangers who you’re leaving in command. Make sure they know who to follow.”

Ghian took a deep breath, then addressed the Rangers.

“My friends,” he said, his voice steady. His nervousness and doubt all but disappeared as he addressed the crowd. “Many of you recognize Winter Cordier. I have appointed her as your commander. She, and her guard captain Urstadt— that’s the tall one in the armor—will lead you in the coming battle. You are better off in their hands than mine, for the time being. I will take some of you behind our friends and family to act as a rearguard.

“We do not know what awaits us, but we need to protect our people. That is what matters. You will follow every order Winter and Urstadt give as if it were my own. They will lead us to victory. First Ranger company, with me.” Ghian signaled, and a group of Rangers peeled away, following Ghian to the back of the column.

The tiellan crowd, having now seen the force awaiting them and the bodies scattering the hills, was beginning to panic. Another problem that needed solving.

Winter looked back to the City Watch, still stationary at the crest of the hill. They hadn’t charged, which Winter counted as a blessing. The tiellans were so disorganized coming out of the city, the Watch could have slaughtered most of them before they knew what was happening. This way, her people at least stood a chance.

And Winter had faltira. She could use that to help, but the force ahead was large. A few hundred at least. She could not take them all.

She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, the elders and matriarchs grouped in conversation.

Winter turned to Urstadt. “Keep the Rangers in line,” she said. “I need to see what this is about.”

Before Urstadt could respond, Winter walked quickly over to the cluster of old tiellans speaking with one another.

“We need to keep the elders and matriarchs safe above all else,” Pendir was saying. “Otherwise we are all lost. We should slip away.”

Winter grabbed Pendir by the collar, and threw him to the ground with as much force as she could muster. “Like Oblivion you will.”

Pendir fell into the dust with a squeal. Winter turned to the others.

“I need each of you to walk through the crowd behind us. Calm these people. Say soothing words. Keep them together.”

Esra regarded Winter with pursed lips. A few of the elders scoffed, but Winter didn’t care. If they didn’t want to do it, she would make them. She met Esra’s eyes.

“Will you do this?”

“Esra, who is this girl to order us around?”

“We’ll do as she says,” Esra said, turning to her peers. “Come. We’ll keep our people together. We can be the strength they need.”

Winter nodded to Esra in appreciation, and the group began to move back into the tiellan crowd. Hopefully, they would do something to calm the people. As Esra passed, she whispered to Winter, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Winter found herself hoping the same thing.

When she returned to Urstadt, the woman had organized the Rangers into three ranks of about forty tiellans each. Winter looked over them, and was not encouraged by what she saw. Tiellan men and women of all ages formed lines, brandishing whatever weapons they apparently could scrape together: daggers, staffs, clubs, even a few pitchforks here and there. They looked strong enough as a collective, but as Winter looked into their wide eyes, saw white knuckles gripping their weapons, she knew they were afraid.

The Rangers after which they were named—the elite tiellan warriors of the Age of Marvels—could famously use any weapon on the battlefield, from bow to sword to spear to axe and beyond, were experts in battle strategy, and when they fought together, fought as one. Winter imagined Rangers as warriors like Knot, or Urstadt—not the rabble she saw before her.

But they would have to do. They were all bound together, now. And whether Winter cared to admit it or not, she had pressed the tiellan hand in Cineste. She had all but forced them into this exodus by killing the humans at the Druid meeting. She would not abandon them now.

“Do you think we stand a chance against them?” Winter asked Urstadt.

Urstadt’s eyes were unreadable. “With us, yes,” she said.

“I’ll take faltira at some point during the battle,” Winter said.

“I expected as much.”

“If I do, I’ll need to concentrate on what I’m doing. You will have full leadership of the Rangers.” Not that Winter would have much input anyway—she was no soldier—but it needed to be said.

“I can do that, Winter.”

Winter nodded. “Good.” Then, she turned to the Rangers.

“We are going to march on the force ahead of us,” she said loudly. “They stand between us and freedom, the first real freedom we will ever know. They will not let us pass without a fight. They have enslaved us, oppressed us, and persecuted us, simply for being who we are. From this moment forward, we will no longer accept that.

“They outnumber us. They are better armed, better trained, and they may be bigger and stronger than us. But they are human. They bleed, and die, just as all humans do. And like all humans, they wear their power on the outside.

“You are tiellans. You may not look like you can stand up to them, but you can. Your power comes from within. Some of you saw what I did to those men who attacked us. That is only the first hint of what we can do. Remember that you are tiellans!”

To Winter’s surprise, she actually elicited a cheer from the Rangers, and many of the tiellans behind them as well. Her eyes settled on one Ranger in particular, not unlike Lian as she remembered him. Thin, sinewy, handsome, with a smolder in his eyes.

“You,” Winter said, pointing at the man. “With me.”

The man looked surprised for a moment, but followed orders and walked quickly up to Winter’s side. He carried a staff in one hand, and a long dagger in his belt. The sight of his weapons in contrast with their opposition—armored in leather and chainmail, with swords, spears, and shields—made Winter flinch inwardly. She was under no illusions. She was the weapon that would make or break this battle for the tiellans. She was powerful, but she had never faced so many at once. And she had to be careful; she did not want to cause tiellan casualties.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” the man asked.

“What is your name, Ranger?”

“Selldor.”

“Are you fast?”

Selldor hesitated. “I am,” he said, “but I can also fight—”

“Then you’ll do both,” Winter said. “You’ll carry my and Urstadt’s orders to the other Rangers, running up and down the line. Your duty is more important than any other, do you understand me?”

Selldor bowed his head. “I do, Commander.”

“Good. Stay close.”

Winter turned, and led the march forward.

“That was an effective speech,” Urstadt said beside her.

“More effective than I thought it would be.” Winter squinted at the force ahead. “Can you tell how many there are?”

“More than three hundred,” Urstadt said. “Not more than four.”

Winter swore under her breath. More than twice their numbers; perhaps more than triple, since they’d sent Ghian’s force back. Winter and Urstadt’s Rangers were considerably ahead of the rest of the tiellan group; they did not want civilian casualties in the battle, but they had to keep them close to their defenders. Winter hoped it was a balance they could maintain.

“Some of you are afraid,” Winter shouted over her shoulder as they marched. “That is all right. Take that fear, and use it. This battle is for our freedom. It is to show who we are, as a people.”

Winter thrust her fist into the air. “It is to show our power!”

They had reached the base of the low hill on which the City Watch was stationed. Fortunately, the slope was gradual, but even Winter knew enough to see the advantage it gave the Watch.

For a moment, panic threatened her. The hard lump of fear had returned, settling in her gut. Everything was happening so quickly. She needed more time to think, to plan. Instead, she reached into her pouch, and—finally—slipped a frost crystal into her mouth.

It was time to act.

“You’ll lead the charge,” she told Urstadt. She took deep breaths, felt the effects of frost on her skin and in her veins. “I’ll be of no use on our front line, but I think I can take out theirs.”

“Yes, Winter.”

Winter nodded. There was only one thing left to do.

“Charge!” The word grated from Winter’s lips, and Urstadt took off up the hill, glaive extended, the Rangers running behind her.

At the same time, Winter extended her telenic tendra. Dozens of them snaked out of her, each seeking one of the City Watch soldiers at the top of the hill. She focused on their front line first, although exactly how many that was, she was not sure. The men had taken a defensive formation, each holding a large rectangular shield out in front of them, forming a solid wall through the cracks of which jutted dozens of spear-points.

Winter seized the shields out of the hands of each of the men, and turned them on their owners. She saw a few surprised looks, mouths agape and eyes wide, staring at the shields levitating before them. Then Winter smashed each shield back down into the face of its owner.

Using her tendra was not difficult, nor was snatching the shields from the stationary soldiers. Her tendra were far stronger than a normal human arm or grip. What was difficult, however, was splitting her attention so many ways. Fortunately, as she focused on one tendron, then two, then a dozen, the others seemed to instinctively follow suit.

The front line of City Watchmen screamed as a wall of their own shields crushed them into the ground.

Winter threw the shields into the rear ranks of the City Watch just as the Rangers crested the hill, trampling over the cowering first rank and smashing into the unsuspecting second rank of watchmen.

She needed a better vantage point to keep controlling the battle, so she sprinted up the hill behind the Rangers, her tendra already seeking new targets.

Tendra were strange things. The telenic variety could interact with inanimate objects and inanimate objects only; they could not touch or move any living thing. Acumenic tendra were the opposite; they had no effect on inanimate objects, but could penetrate the minds of living things. Winter had to be careful as she used her telenic tendra; she had to interact with the objects around the humans she fought against. That meant lifting men by their armor and clothing, or swiping the weapons from their hands.

When she reached the hilltop, her tendra immediately went for the watchmen on horseback, currently splitting to either side of the tiellans, aiming for a flank attack. More than four dozen tendra twisted away from Winter, each snatching a lance or sword from the Watch’s cavalry. Once again, Winter turned the soldiers’ own weapons against them. She knew each strike wasn’t completely effective—some barely penetrated chain, others glanced away and slid into thin air, and still others simply got lost as Winter tried to manage so many tendra at once. But her onslaught worked; the Watch’s cavalry formations crumbled before her eyes.

Hope cracked upwards through the hard lump of fear in Winter’s gut. With another burst of energy, Winter sent as many tendra as she could muster into the second wave of cavalry, knocking them all from their horses. Men fell to the ground as horses panicked, some trampling the men who’d been riding them not seconds before.

Now, at least, the ground was even. Winter swiped the few watchmen that remained on horseback with her tendra easily. Hopefully Urstadt could manage the Rangers through the rest of the battle.

* * *

Urstadt planted her feet and thrust her glaive up into the ribs of an oncoming watchman. The man screamed, spattering Urstadt with blood, and at the last second Urstadt twisted out of the way, yanking her glaive with her. The man collapsed to one side, writhing in pain.

Urstadt rammed her glaive into the man’s chest, then turned to take stock of the battle.

Winter had decimated the entire force’s cavalry. Urstadt could not imagine how the girl had done it. She had seen Winter’s powers, watched personally as Winter killed Lord Hirman Luce in the middle of a Ruling Council meeting, and as the girl had fought her former lord, Daval Amok—a man imbued with the power of a Daemon—and won.

But Urstadt had never seen anything like this.

Winter flattened wave after wave of the watchmen. The attacks weren’t always efficient, and never elegant, but they were consistent and inescapable as the tide. Virtually all that remained of the City Watch was a portion of their infantry and unhorsed cavalry.

More than two hundred watchmen remained, but that was significantly better than the odds had been only moments ago.

“Hold the line!” Urstadt shouted at the tiellan men around her. In the distance, she heard Selldor repeating the order, running up and down the line to spread the word.

These tiellans were beginners, some too old and others too young, all wholly unfamiliar with the business of killing. But they rallied to her nonetheless, and so far had not given any ground to the City Watch. Urstadt knew the power a strong leader could grant her soldiers, and fought like Oblivion to provide that for the tiellans.

Another human soldier charged the tiellan fighting next to Urstadt, but she thrust her glaive up into the man’s face before he closed the gap. The man slumped into her weapon, gray matter seeping down the blade and onto the pole. Urstadt did not have time to wipe the gore before advancing, shoulder to shoulder with the tiellans next to her, on what remained of the City Watch line.

Tiellan after tiellan around Urstadt fell to the City Watch blades, but the training these men had undertaken had not been for nothing. If the soldiers penetrated their front line too deeply, or got around enough to flank or surround, the Rangers would have a much more difficult time of things. The left tiellan flank had given the City Watch a few rods at the beginning of the battle, but now held its own, and the right flank had actually gained ground, as the center, led by Urstadt, was now doing.

For now, they were doing enough.

Urstadt dodged the spear thrust of an oncoming soldier. She knocked the weapon aside and charged forward, ramming her blade into the man’s gut. She stepped back, parrying another attack, twisting around to kick another watchman in the back who’d been fighting the tiellan man next to Urstadt. The watchman fell and the tiellan man pounced, stabbing downward with a spear.

Something whirred above Urstadt’s head, and another oncoming watchman fell, impaled by a javelin. The weapon had moved with far too much force to have been thrown by a man.

Urstadt looked over her shoulder and caught a glance of Winter, standing still about a dozen paces behind the front line. The girl needed to do something soon to tip the battle in their favor.

As if in response to Urstadt’s thoughts, suddenly a huge group of City Watch soldiers—at least four dozen; Urstadt could not count them quickly enough—rose quickly into the air, squirming and screaming, limbs flailing. There was a moment’s hesitation where the entire battlefield paused, looking up, watching the men writhe as they rose into the air. They moved so high so quickly that they were barely visible when Winter finally dropped them. The men fell, screaming, back to the ground. She must have shifted their position, as most of them fell behind the City Watch’s force. A horrible plethora of sound followed; a crunch here, a smack there, a crash in the distance, with screams of terrified men overarching it all. A knot in Urstadt’s stomach tightened. She had never enjoyed heights, and did not envy the fate of these men.

When all the bodies had fallen, the watchmen turned back to the Rangers. A few of them raised their weapons, faces pale, but then the call came out from behind them.

“Retreat!”

Immediately, the watchmen turned and ran, fleeing the battlefield, leaving the Rangers amongst the dead.

* * *

A ragged cheer rose from the Rangers as the Cinestean City Watch retreated.

“We should go after them!” one of the tiellans shouted, looking back at Winter. “Make sure they never forget what happened here!”

A few other tiellan voices rose in affirmation, but for the most part, the Rangers were silent. Pale faces, weapons held in trembling hands or dropped to the ground completely, and the stink of shit on the battlefield told Winter all she needed to know. A few of the tiellans collapsed, sobbing, the moment the watchmen began their retreat.

“Hold your ground,” Winter shouted, her voice hoarse. They were in no shape to chase after the watchmen.

“Hold your ground,” she repeated, more softly.

She was in no position to pursue the watchmen.

It had been a very long time since she had accessed that much power via frost. She felt the chill indicating the drug’s waning effect, and while she could take another crystal, it would not be a good idea. Kali had told her that taking too much faltira could burn out a psimancer’s power. Winter had already risked that once, in Izet—the last time she had used this much power, and more—but, in the moment, she’d thought it was her only option.

That was not the case today. In fact, if anything, Winter wanted to live if only to take more frost, to use more power, another day.

Urstadt approached, splattered with red, glaive bloody and dripping. The warrior looked like something out of legend, or nightmare; Winter could not decide which. Looking down at herself, Winter appeared no different than when the battle began. No blood on her clothes, her hands, anywhere near her at all.

“What are your orders?” Urstadt asked.

You should give the orders, Winter wanted to say. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. But, instead, Winter took a deep breath before responding. “We take all the weapons and armor we can from the fallen,” she said, looking out over the field. The dead and dying were numerous; they might be able to provide better weaponry for the entire Ranger force that remained. Goddess knew such a thing was needed. “Round up any remaining horses we can find, too. I have a feeling we’ll need them in the future.”

“As do I.” Urstadt nodded, and Winter felt a thrill that the woman approved of her orders.

“I’ll inform the Druids of our victory,” Winter said. “And then, we will move west. To Adimora.”