Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) (6 page)

A
strange silhouette appeared at the top of the distant hill.  A lone figure atop
some sort of vehicle, rising over the flattened grass of the hilltop.  It
continued to rise, and it became apparent that it wasn’t a vehicle per se, but
a seat, a throne, carried by six or eight bulky warriors.  On the throne sat a
dark-cloaked figure.  The air above and around the figure rippled and shimmered
like the heat from a tarred road in summer.  As I watched, the dark figure
raised his arms high in the air and lowered his head.  At the last moment
before his head was fully bowed, I detected a glint from his eyes, even
shielded as they were by the overhanging hood.  Stranger still, I felt certain
he had in that moment glanced directly at me.  I felt in my bones and my blood
the cold cruelty of his smile.  The sensation was not easy to shake, even when
reason prevailed and I told myself the distance was too far, the shadows too
deep…that indeed, I wasn’t really there. 

Moments
later, something else could be seen rising over the hilltop on either side of
this figure.  Several, perhaps a dozen or so, large creatures began to descend
the slope, side-by-side, each about fifty meters from the next.  They looked
like the animals Reya’s people rode, but something was wrong.  Their heads were
bowed low to the ground, and they lumbered down the hill in a manner entirely
unlike the careless grace with which I had seen them move.  There was some sort
of man-made device strapped to their backs, an extension of which ran up the
ridge of their great necks to the base of the skull.  A pair of large, metallic
cylinders hung on either side of their bodies, and as I strained to get a better
look, it became apparent that this equipment was not the only reason for their
awkward movement.  These creatures had only four legs, the middle pair
apparently having been amputated to accommodate the ungainly accoutrements. 
Their many-pronged antlers crackled with the same sort of sparkling effect I
had observed before entering this vision-state, only dimmer.  These
once-majestic beasts were a sickly shadow of their former selves.  Their hides
were sunken and pallid, fur fouled and matted, the golden light of their eyes
all but extinguished.  Occasionally a dejected moan escaped one of their
throats. 

Reya’s
men had halted in their tracks several paces short of the enemy’s front line. 
They seemed unsure how to react to this new development, frozen by a mixture of
fear, confusion, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness at the wretched state
of these animals.  Reya, recognizing that this development posed some sort of a
threat, immediately ordered a retreat.  But it was as though her soldiers heard
her only through a dense veil.  She repeated the command, louder now, but her
troops stood motionless, staring toward the opposing hillside.  Incensed, Reya
looked more closely at the beasts and saw that the tanks on their sides glowed
with rows of orange lights.  Were these strange devices exerting some kind of
effect on her troops?  She stole one final look over her shoulder, then,
muttering something softly to her mount, started down the hillside at a fair
clip. 

As
the row of pathetic creatures reached the rear guard of enemy foot soldiers,
the formation parted in multiple places to allow their passage.  The animals
lurched laboriously past row after row of the enemy’s legions, finally emerging
at the front line.  They advanced but a few steps more and then halted facing
Reya’s army, snouts almost touching the ground, enormous heads swaying
hypnotically to and fro.  Reya spoke again to her mount and it broke into a
full gallop.  This was an impressive thing to see, now for the first time as a
passive observer.  The great white hide revealed an elegant and powerful
musculature as the beast worked its six legs, thundering down the steep incline
at the top of the hill, leaping over a broad outcropping of rock and landing
without breaking stride to resume its gallop on the more even ground at
mid-slope.  Reya had almost reached her army’s right flank when the sparkling
in the antlers of the enemy’s poor beasts suddenly grew to a blinding flash. 
Above the head of each beast a tiny sun exploded, sending a devastating wave of
energy spreading ahead of the animal, encompassing a broad, cone-shaped area. 
In that instant, the battlefield was terribly transformed.  Wherever the energy
had touched, scores of men lay dead.  And immediately after the blast, each
animal emitted a hollow groan and expired, never to rise again.  The orange
lights went dark.   

Reya,
despite the incredible momentum of her steed, had not advanced far enough to
suffer the effect of the blasts.  Her mount reared up high on its hind legs,
and she again ordered a retreat.  This time her remaining troops seemed to
hear, and hastily obeyed.  Quickly scanning the area of destruction, she saw
that maybe two-thirds of her people had died in that one terrible act.  Shaking
her head, she turned and led the retreat, back up the hill the way they had
come.  As she reached the base of the rocky bluff she had cleared earlier, she
halted and cocked her head.  The thing that apparently gave her pause was a
deep rumbling that now reached my ears as well.  It grew to an almost deafening
din, then the air over Reya’s head was filled with a half-dozen or so great,
white, soaring shapes as a small band of men on beasts like her own leaped over
her position and plunged down the hillside.  At their head, an oddly familiar
figure.  The face was my own.  I knew before she cried, “Tal!”

“Tal,
no!  This fight is lost!” she screamed.  He reined in his mount, cutting a
sharp left arc, and came up a few dozen paces below Reya. 

“Not
again!” Tal barked, his face a mask of vengeance.  “He must pay for his
atrocities!  For what he’s done to our people.  To our friends!”  He gestured
toward the corpses of the fallen deer-creatures.

“He’s
too powerful!  You can’t hurt him!  Tal, please!  There’ll be another day to
fight,”  Reya pleaded.

“Not
if I can help it,” Tal said .  “This ends here.  Today!  We rout his troops,
then I take Magus out.  Tonight we celebrate!”

“Don’t,
Tal!”  But he was already racing to rejoin his brothers in the fray.  Racing
past disorganized groups of retreating soldiers in twos and threes, Tal came at
last to the first row of enemy foot soldiers.  His companions had already split
and were hungrily assaulting the flanks.  Tal-Makai met the enemy head-on. 
These seven men, and their mounts, were noticeably better-armored and
better-equipped than most of the soldiers of Reya’s camp, if not than Magus’
army.  That and the ease with which they proceeded to dispatch the enemy led me
to believe that they represented an elite corps of warriors, the strongest and
finest of those who fought on Reya’s side.  They passed along the leading edges
of the enemy army, and as they rode, their blades flickered gold in the
late-afternoon sun.  In their wake the enemy lay like cut grass.  As they
decimated the first row, they wheeled about and made for a second pass. 
Tal-Makai now sat atop his mount in the center of the action surrounded by dark
soldiers.  But his stance was not a defensive one.  As his mount turned in slow
circles, his bladed staff flashed and spun, felling enemies with each swing as
though they offered no resistance. 

Awestruck
by this display of military prowess, I didn’t immediately perceive the change
that then began to take place within the enemy ranks.  Gradually I became aware
of a different sort of movement outside the immediate circle of Tal’s
struggle.  While most of the troops held their positions, individual soldiers
freed themselves from the collective and began to push inward toward Tal,
squeezing past their fellows.  From my vantage it looked like a reverse
starburst, a large circle of points converging inexorably upon a single point,
and that point was Tal-Makai.  As they reached the inner ring of soldiers, they
seemed momentarily to draw back a step, then lunged forward as one.  At the
same instant their weapons simultaneously extended, nearly doubling in length,
perforating Tal’s mount in numerous places, while the tips of other blades
pressed into Tal’s flesh and against his throat, immobilizing him without
inflicting serious harm. 

“No!”
screamed Reya.  The air thundered with booming laughter that seemed to come
from everywhere, but undoubtedly originated from that cloaked figure that still
stood unmoving at the top of the hill.  The noise reverberated around the
entire valley for a moment, then suddenly localized to a point directly before
the face of Tal-Makai.  As it did, a wisp of vapor coalesced there into the
form of a man.  The vaguely human face addressed Tal then with the voice of my
former teacher, the one known to these people as “Magus”.  The cloaked figure
hadn’t moved from his place high above.

“Tal-Makai.” 
He attempted to suppress a chuckle but failed, erupting into a disgusting
cackle that sounded like an infected cough.  His perverted glee was echoed
among his troops with a sound like the chittering of countless insects.  “The
great warrior!”  More laughter.  “I must say this is better than I could have
hoped.”  The mist-figure drifted slowly around the pinned and helpless Tal,
examining his catch from all directions before returning to rest before him. 
Shouts could be heard from farther afield, where I looked to see that other
soldiers held the remaining members of Tal’s pack at bay.  “You see?  There’s
no help for you now.  Kialam-Tal…”  He let his voice trail off as the word-play
had its desired effect and a wave of renewed snickering passed through the
watching troops.  Tal-Makai – “One who rises”, twisted to become Kialam-Tal –
“Pierced One” – a vile parody of his present predicament and probable end. 

“I
have no desire to delay your death.  However, as an event long anticipated, I
do have very particular designs regarding its manner.”  Caught up again
momentarily in his gagging chuckle, he then began to incant something in a
strange tongue.  As he spoke, a reddish-orange hue was cast across the entire
scene.  It grew extremely quiet for but a moment.  Then… 

I
heard a growing rumbling noise, and the vapor-being dissipated.  The spot over
which it had hovered began to pull together and rise, as though an invisible
cord from somewhere far above tugged at the very earth, causing it to pucker
and peak.  Rocks and roots and clods of topsoil rolled together, adding their
mass to the forming mound.  As it grew it constantly writhed and twisted inward
upon itself, stones clacking against each other, roots and branches forming
sinewy extensions.  All the while, the pulling of earth continued, drawing more
and more raw material from which to fashion – whatever it was that was being
fashioned.  This roiling sod pile grew to the height of a man, and then quite a
bit more, and then the extensions could be seen to be forming themselves into
crude arms and legs. In various places, larger chunks of rock or wood began to
stabilize and hold fast, forming a suit of natural armor.  Around these pieces
the remaining material constantly stirred and rearranged itself. 

Finally,
there stood before Tal a humanoid monster of massive bulk and proportion.  It
held one earthy hand before its face, then stretched it skyward.  The extremity
elongated to form a great lance of wood and stone, which it brought slowly to
bear, not on Tal-Makai, but on his mount.  Positioning its point at the center
of the creature’s breast, it thrust its arm forward, impaling the beast through
nearly the entire length of its body cavity, and killing it instantly.  Tal was
horrified, but could do nothing.  The blades of enemy weapons held him fast. 
The monster withdrew the lance and it resumed the shape of a hand.  Then,
placing both hands together at the newly-formed hole in the creature’s chest,
it pried the animal’s chest apart, ripping through bone and flesh as if it were
soft cloth.  Reaching one enormous hand deep into the chest, it withdrew a
long, flat, whitish object – the animal’s breastbone.  Small stones and grains
of sand from the monster’s body spiraled down the arm and flowed over the bone,
grinding it clean of flesh and blood.  The demon again stretched the hand over
its head, and it became a weapon once more, the breastbone forming a long,
broad blade of exceptional sharpness.  It drew back and swung its new weapon
once in a broad, horizontal arc, neatly decapitating the already lifeless
beast.  It then performed a similar bone-cleaning process with the animal’s
skull, accomplishing this with remarkable speed and efficiency.  This it
fastened to its other arm with roots from its own substance to wield as a
gigantic shield. 

“Do
it now!”  The booming voice commanded from somewhere indeterminate.

The
monster righted itself, drew back its great blade-arm, and drove it straight
through the heart of Tal-Makai.  He stiffened, and was gone.  Somewhere far
away, Reya’s hysterical screams could be heard.  The soldiers now withdrew
their weapons, and the bodies of rider and beast slumped to the ground.  Blood
gushed from Tal’s wound in hot spurts and spilled on the earth.  Reya pulled
herself together enough to shout a final command to her surviving troops and
then they all beat a speedy retreat, back up the way they had come.  Back in
the valley I saw the blood of Tal-Makai form rivulets upon the ground.  Then I
saw these trickles flow toward the monster.  As the blood reached its feet, it
began to be absorbed into its body, imparting a red stain to the ever-writhing
earth-flesh.