Seven Sorcerers(69)
After a while the screaming turns to weeping.
You have doomed them all, Sharadza says. Vireon, D’zan, all our families and kingdoms. They will be lost while we linger here and slowly go mad.
There is nothing I can say that will comfort her. I do not insult her by trying.
Udgrond dreams on, and we wait, hopeless and grieving.
Eventually the great dream overtakes even our thoughts, and the silent earth swallows the last of our awareness.
11
Invasion
Storms rolled off the leaden sea into the valley, smothering the dawn with a layer of furious clouds. Dahrima spent her second day among the ruins sitting beneath the arch of a broken wall, though it gave her little protection from the driving rains and fierce winds. She kept her eyes on the gray horizon, where sparks of lightning danced above the waters. A tall wave hammered the beach, followed by a second one that sank the reedy delta beneath the bay. The angry sea rushed forward, drowning the beaches and the ruined piers, licking at the base of the shattered city walls. Later the flood receded, leaving dead fish, marooned crabs, and mounds of seaweed littering the strand.
A few hours before sunset the clouds dispersed with unnatural quickness. The ocean calmed and eventually turned to blood as the sun met the rim of the world. No hungry shadows crawled out of the earth that night. Dahrima wore the Sky God’s amulet so they slumbered instead, waiting for the next warm-blooded beings to enter the valley. She did not sleep, but kept vigil on the beach among the stinking piles of seaweed. She saw nothing but moonlight upon the dark waters.
In the first hour of morning the twenty-eight Uduri appeared atop the valley’s western ridge. Their shields and braids glittered bright as gold against a tapestry of purple clouds. The Giantesses lifted their spears in greeting; Dahrima raised her axe in reply. She crossed the fields of tumbled stones to meet them at the riverbank while they waded across. It was good to see their faces again. The legions of Vireon and Tyro must not be far behind them. Dahrima silently praised both the Gods of Men and Giants–the Northern Kings would apparently reach the valley before the invading hordes.
Chygara the Windcaller stepped out of the river and embraced Dahrima.
“Sister!” Chygara’s smile was full of broad, white teeth. “I knew we would find you here. You left your spear when you decided to take a swim.” She offered the weapon to Dahrima, then pulled her own spear from beneath the straps on her back. Dahrima slid the handle of her axe into the iron loop on her belt and took up the lance. The weight of it felt splendid in her fist. She had missed it almost as much as she missed her spearsisters.
“It is fortunate that you arrive here in the sun’s glow,” Dahrima told them. “This place is cursed–haunted by flesh-eating devils that live beneath the stones. It is death to stay here after dark.”
Alisk the Raven nodded. “We were told of the valley’s dangers. Still, this is the place where the Kings choose to make their stand. The Feathered Serpent has returned to them. I’ll wager Vireon counts on Khama’s power to quell these restless spirits.”
Dahrima turned her face to the flat green sea. “I have watched for two days, but seen no sign of the invaders,” she said. “Only distant storms and mighty waves.”
Chygara grimaced. “What you saw was the destruction of the southern fleets.” She told Dahrima of the utter defeat suffered by the allied armada. Even the Jade Isles’ ships had been destroyed, and the Jade King’s isle sunk beneath the waves. There were few survivors; the Feathered Serpent had returned with only a handful of men. Among them were the Kings D’zan and Undutu. “They looked like death, Dahrima. The Mumbazan King is little more than a youth. He wept and howled for his lost navy. They say he blames himself for the slaughter and may die of shame. Only nine of his warriors returned.”
“King D’zan fares little better,” said Vantha. “He is sick with grief and will not speak a word since the rout. There were no Yaskathan survivors save him. Yet both of the conquered Kings choose to ride with Vireon and face the power of Zyung again.”
Dahrima shook her head. “Iardu tried to tell the young Pearl King that he sailed to a futile doom. Undutu was so eager to face death, yet he did not truly understand it. Perhaps now he understands, yet at too heavy a cost. Has Iardu returned from his errand?”
“Not yet,” said Chygara. “Vireon asks for the wizard at every dawn and dusk. I believe the Giant-King fears for his sweet sister. Sorceress she may be, but still he worries.”
Dahrima shoved the butt of her spear into the mud. The wind played through her blonde locks. She had removed her braids to let her hair dry and forgotten to reset them. She must do this before the coming battle. If Vireon allowed her on the field at all. She hoped that she would not have to defy him in order to aid his cause.