Vessa had seen enough of the clash on the southern side to know that the enemy were going to be victorious. He leaped out of the poor sparrow’s little brain and to the mind of a bat hanging upside down from a tree on the western side of Riverdell, about a mile away from the grove itself. The tree was tall and set upon a hillside, which gave it shade enough to attract the bats. From here, he had a good vantage point to view the second clash of the day.
The poor sparrow’s close view of the gore and carnage of the first encounter had given him his fill of close-up bloodshed. Now, he only wished to gauge the progress of the overall assault without seeing the individual suffering of the soldiers. Whoever they may be, villains or Krushan, defenders or attackers, they were all men and women, living breathing beings, and the damage that war inflicted on the human body and mind was not something to be viewed with glamor or glory. It was a sickening, brutal act of human insanity, the culmination of all the worst, most violent, cruel tendencies of human beings and if he had possessed power enough, he would have banished it forever from existence. Banish all violence too, he thought grimly, as he hung upside down from the shaded branch, bracing himself for the next clash.
This was somehow more brutal and yet different from the first: there were camels and elephants in the frontlines here, deployed because of the hilly terrain, and the ungainly longnecked beasts as well as the affectionate lumbering giants were not natural enemies, or even meant to live together. That was what made it seem so perverse, so unnecessarily cruel to see them both used and abused by their human riders, for the sole purpose of gaining a tactical advantage over their opponents.
He watched as a camel screamed and tried to break away from the elephant it was charging against, trapped by its rider’s merciless grip on the reins as well as the tight formation that hemmed it into the larger attacking force. The poor beast, colliding head-on with the oncoming elephant, smashed its brains out and broke its neck and most of the bones in its body, even as the elephant itself suffered grievous wounds to the trunk, eyes, head, and forelegs. Both animals collapsed together in a jumble of mangled limbs, their blood mingling, faces lying beside one another. Vessa saw with a breaking heart how the camel’s tongue reached out of its shattered jaw to lick at a deep cut on the dying elephant’s head and heard the mournful last cry of the elephant as it breathed its last. The camel died a moment later, both beasts victims of a cruel human sport called war, in a game called battle, where all players lost.
The fighting continued, the screams of elephants and camels vying with the yells and shouts of men and women, the shrieking of horses, the rumbling of chariots, the sound of arrows plunging into flesh, bone, metal, leather.
Vessa watched grimly for a few more moments. This clash was more chaotic and difficult to predict than the first: while the camels provided height for the enemy bowmen to attack the defending elephant mahouts as well as other defenders, it was the enemy chariots that were doing the most damage. The attackers were shrewdly using the chariots as battering rams to shatter the cavalry charge of the defenders, deliberately taking their own cavalry around the defenders’ flanks to push past and into Riverdell. He saw General Prishata’s second in command on his horse, shouting orders, and saw a fresh company of defending cavalry riding to thwart the intrusion of the attackers who had slipped past so cleverly. Horseback fighting broke out, sword striking sword and different languages and dialects shouting curses while the Krushan defenders silently performed their duty. Again, the weight of numbers was stacked against the defenders and it was only a question of how long it would take the attackers to break through.
The situation on the northern front was just as troubling. Brave Krushan defenders died by the scores as the enemy rammed and battered at their defenses, sacrificing animals and humans without mercy in a desperate bid to shatter the defensive lines.
Already, Vessa could see, General Prishata was being forced to thin his own inner circle of defense by sending more soldiers out to bolster the crumbling lines on all three sides. Fortunately, there was one side he did not have to worry about: the Jeel provided a natural barrier to attack, making it impossible for any enemy force to invade from that direction. The river was wide and fast here, and even an armada of boats or barges would not cross easily; even still, Vessa was relieved to see that none were visible. That was one thing less to worry about.
The sight of the Jeel reminded him of something else. Something that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since he had arrived here at Riverdell—arrived in spirit, if not in body.
He took flight, forgetting for an instant that he was in the body of a night-dweller. The sunlight blinded his senses, and the heat of the late afternoon sun seared his sensitive black hide, as he heard the poor bat shriek its silent call of protest.
Apologies, little one, he said, returning the bat to its roost on the tree branch. It trembled with alarm, and he took an instant to calm it down, breathing a soothing Auma into its mind. There was always time for kindness. Auma, it repeated silently, calming. In an instant, it had retreated back into its deep dreamless sleep. He leaped out of its tiny brain and threw himself into the nearest available form at hand: a dolphin leaping through the waves of the river.
Jeel, he called out as his snout broke the water’s skin and caught the light of the sun. Why do you not alert your son Vrath? His half brother Adri is in desperate need of him. Go, summon him at once, or must I do it myself?
He did not have to wait long for an answer.
As he splashed back into the river, the water beneath the surface rippled, forming into the shape and features of the goddess herself. As beautiful as ever, yet stern and coldly commanding, Jeel looked up at him.
Son of Jilana, do you presume to command me now? Beware of your insolent tongue.
He sighed and dipped his dolphin snout, squeaking in submission. Apologies, Great Mother. I meant no disrespect. But Adri is part of your bloodline as well. I was merely expressing my surprise that you had not sought to inform his half brother of the threat he faces.
She seemed to relent, her features softening. A turtle swam through her left cheek, while an eel darted underneath her chin. Below her face, a large school of silvery fish shimmered, their scales catching the sunlight streaming through the water, and through Jeel’s features.
I did not see any reason to trouble him, she said. He has concerns of his own. My son has done much for Hastinaga already. He cannot be there to help like a mere sentry or guard every time a Krushan is in trouble. Besides, he is dealing with his own problems. The troubles in my sister river’s kingdom are far greater than these little mishaps.
Mishaps? Vessa knew better than to react to her choice of words. He let that slight go. But he could not simply let the matter go entirely. I understand that there are other crises to deal with, but Adri is my blood, the son of my body, and I cannot simply let him be killed by these villains.
Then defend him yourself, Jeel said, looking weary and old. I have business elsewhere now. He thought the conversation was over and was about to leap out of the dolphin’s body, but then she paused, and he saw a frown ripple her watery face. Besides, he is in no danger physically.
The dolphin kicked his tail in surprise. What do you mean? Vessa started to ask—
But the water was just water again, rippling and flowing by, filled with the abundant fauna of the upper Jeel. The goddess had left his presence.