CHAPTER FIVE #5
“Most of our heavy siege was inside the castle,” Bel said, “but we still have the trebuchets and bowcannon mounted on the hilltops.” He spun a Spirit weave to mark their locations.
“These are within firing range of Kreppes.” He indicated the siege directly north of the castle.
“We need to reposition them to provide cover fire for the tairen and do what we can to keep the cannon off those walls. Quintets of Earth masters will move the others into position here and here and here.” The small, glowing replicas of the siege weapons on the far eastern and western hilltops disappeared from their current locations and reappeared in the formations placed to attack the west, east, and south walls of the fortress.
“The rest of the Earth masters will start constructing siege towers and ladders to scale the walls.”
“Commander Tarr.” Bel fixed his gaze upon the Celierian officer in charge of the king’s archers. “I need your archers in position along these lines.” He pointed at the map and drew the lines in Spirit. “When the tairen aren’t firing the castle, your men should be.
“Commander Nevin, Chatokkai vel Amah, as soon as the towers and ladders are ready, you’ll lead your men up the southern wall.
Commander Bonn, our Earth masters are working on a battering ram.
Your men will storm the gate on my signal.
Fifty quintets will accompany each of your attack forces to weave shields and keep Mage Fire off you. ”
Bel stepped back from the table. “My lords, my blade brothers, we either retake Kreppes, or we bring it down.”
In the outlying fields surrounding Kreppes, two dozen men broke off from the mass of Sebourne troops, each taking a different direction into the crowd of allied troops.
There were so many men running hither and yon, no one paid any attention to Sebourne’s men… or the small white stones they dropped in their wake.
Two young Celierian infantrymen rushed through the crowded encampment towards the area where Commander Bonn was marshaling his forces. One of the two fell behind, and his companion turned to scold him.
“Get a move on, Kip. The battering ram is nearly done, and Commander Bonn won’t wait on us.”
“Wait a chime, Jamis,” Kip said. “I thought I saw something over here.” He took a few steps towards one of the paths between the lines of allied tents, drawing his sword as he went.
“Saw what? Kip!” his companion exclaimed. Kip had disappeared into the shadows between the rows of tents. “Kip!” He started towards the place Kip had disappeared, then stopped when his friend emerged from the shadows. “What was it? Kip? Are you all right?”
Kip had a strange, disoriented look on his face. His sword arm dangled at his side, and his fingers curled loosely around the hilt of his unsheathed blade.
Concerned, Jamis started towards him, only to stop when Kip’s eyes suddenly fixed on Jamis’s face and the confused look changed to something much more disturbing. Something menacing.
Kip raised his sword.
Rain led the tairen in series of flame runs over Kreppes’s ramparts to weaken the enemy shields and keep them occupied while the allies put their plans into action.
The bowcannon and trebuchets were gone, not even piles of ash remained where they had stood.
The current menace was archers armed with barbed sel’dor arrows.
That and the Eld were up to the same tricks they’d used months ago at Orest, with portals to the Well of Souls opening and bowcannon firing from within.
They kept the sky filled with sel’dor, but before the tairen came within flame-reach, the archers would race down the battlement steps, the portals would close, and the fire would splash against the smoldering stone of Kreppes’s diminishing ramparts.
As soon as the tairen passed, the archers would rush back into place, the portals would reopen, and they would send a barrage of sel’dor arrows and bolts chasing after the tairen.
Xisanna had taken a sel’dor bolt to her flank and Perahl had a large hole in his left wing. Strafing the Kreppes battlements was getting to be a dangerous game of dodge-tairen.
Rain folded his wings and dropped. Wind whistled past his flattened ears.
He held his forelegs tight and streamlined against his body.
The tuck-winged dive was one of his favorite tairen maneuvers.
He had always loved the speed, the reckless thrill, the sudden breathless jolt as his wings snapped wide and plummeting fall curved sharply into a high-speed glide.
And in battle, he loved how small a target it made him on the approach, and what a blur of speed he was as he shot past the enemy, raining fire upon him.
Spewing flame into the onslaught of arrows and bolts, he burrowed a tunnel through the air.
But as he drew another breath in preparation for his next jet of flame, a blast of fire from Steli illuminated the figure of a man standing on the battlement, distinctive Elfbow drawn, as he took aim at Rain.
That was no Elden Mage, and no servant of the Dark either.
What in the gods names was Cannevar Barrial doing up there?
His left wing dropped. The straight glide towards Kreppes became a banking roll away from his target just as Cann fired at the spot Rain had been.
?Cease fire!? Rain sang to Steli and the tairen. ?Cease fire!? he cried on the new Warrior’s Path. ?Those aren’t the Eld! It’s our men in there! Cease fire! Cease fire!?