Elven Bound

1

N

The entire manor trembled; a muffled boom echoed from below.

The distant sounds of the city alarms echoed, alerting the city’s population to run to the bunkers.

Lord Haldeen Gatekeeper stepped away from his work-table and looked down from his tower above the wall.

The city wall stood seven times his own height and was wide enough on the top for two horse carts to be pulled side by side.

Even so, the vast creature attacking from the outside swung itself up, easily overtopping the battlements.

He winced. This one was big. Bigger than the others.

His guard whistled.

“Which kind is that?”

Lord Haldeen managed to sound more calm than he felt. “A Polycephalus.”

The guard stared at him blankly.

“Means more than one head.” He looked at the guard. “Don’t just stand there. Go fight.”

The guard gave him a round-eyed nod and let him be, clattering down the tower’s inner stairs in his armor to join the garrison.

Once alone in the tower, Haldeen sagged and let down his facade.

This thing was huge, bigger than the ones before, and it was here, next to his estate, and on this side of the city.

It had also gotten close enough to attack without being detected.

How in the names of the Seven Kings had it managed that?

He stepped through the small door and onto the thin balcony that ran around the uppermost floor of the watchtower to get a better view of the battle. Prudence dictated he flee the spindly tower for the bunkers below, but the sheer size of the thing held him entranced.

He stepped back a pace as it slammed its shoulder into the wall surrounding the city of Veridian, managing to bow the protective shield enough to make contact with the stone itself.

When that happened, the entire city shook, including his tower.

He gripped the railing, hard enough to hurt.

This monster was a big one; seven tiny heads that were mostly a round mouth with rows of slender teeth at the ends of something that was less “neck” and more “tentacle,” attached to one end of a cylindrical body, while two whip-like tails ending in a barbed bulge menaced the city from the other.

From here, Haldeen couldn’t see the legs, but he knew they were there; eight on each side, stubby things that moved the beast along at a terrifyingly quick, undulating pace.

A sound like tearing canvas split the air, as a firelance hit one of the waving heads, scorching it.

Haldeen tore his gaze away from the heads and looked down at the wall itself, where the first of the twenty or so Machina emerged from its storage shed along the wall.

This section of the city held twenty, but so far, only one had responded.

Each of the metal machines worked under the control of its Manipulator, so why had the rest not responded?

Where the hell are they? The Machina had taken its first shot even before completely clearing the door of its storage chamber.

Oh well done, Haldeen thought, making a mental note of the section.

That Manipulator is in for a promotion and an award for that. If he survives.

The city guard, augmented by his own Household Troops, emerged from the low-towers spaced at intervals along the city walls, each armed with smaller, hand-held firelances.

They took up stations, launching the lances into the side of the creature, shifting and moving to get clear lines of sight.

Behind them, the metal Machina started to come into play.

A few guards carried the older spear launchers, obsolete now, but useful in a situation like this one.

The guardsmen, well trained and experienced, moved as precisely as the Machina.

They kept their eyes on the attacker, moving in teams and shifting quickly out of the way of the Machina as they deployed.

The guard teams focused on the joints, the eyes, anything that looked bendable or sensitive.

Their shots rarely penetrated as individuals, but as their fires grew and squad-chiefs took more control, they became more effective.

The ripping canvas sounds of the launchers blurred and blended into one continuous roar as a half dozen guardsmen gang-fired as one, their red and blue lances hitting the creature just behind one of its heads.

They then hurried to rearm. The squads held up their end of the fight with commendable precision, distracting the creature, even though they would do little real damage.

Sometimes a little chastisement was enough to drive the Monsters away.

It did not appear that this was going to be one of those times.

The creature’s injured head turned towards its tormentors, and sprayed something, perhaps a barrage of teeth or shards; Haldeen was too far to see clearly.

The wall and shield stopped and held most of what it spat, but a few shards penetrated.

Where there had been six guards, three now lay dead.

The rest lay writhing in pools of blood.

More guards came pouring out of the tower entrance to replace them.

Most carried firelances, along with more of the spear launchers, as the volume of fire from the walls depleted the ready supplies.

Another strike by the Monster, and another penetration of the shield. Another shudder through the city.

Haldeen knew even if the shields failed, the city walls should hold against this, made as they were from mage-fused stone and titanium, but should and would lived different lives, and the city’s walls were old.

He heard the deep hoom of a copper shot furnace, and saw the bright yellow fireball as the bolt of superheated copper came out of the Machina’s chest and struck the creature.

The stench of burned meat and hot metal swept into the city.

The Monster—the Predator—turned several of its heads towards the city and roared, but with what seemed more in outrage than in hurt.

It shouldered the shield again, piercing it.

One head came completely through the magic defenses, to where it could attack the wall defenders.

A second head pierced the barrier and bore down, sweeping three guards from the battlement.

One released his firelance just as he was struck, sending the flame uselessly upward into the sky.

“Better up than along the wall,” Haldeen muttered.

He watched the guards fall back, then rally, launching a barrage of spears at the head at close range.

One spear penetrated the nearest of the Monster’s many heads, followed by a second spear, then a flurry more.

The small victory helped steady the guard as the head pulled back, pincushioned with a half dozen spears.

One trooper knelt in the blood of the dead as she quickly reloaded, shoving arm-length spears into the caster.

Even obsolete weapons had their moments.

Haldeen walked along the narrow balcony to where he could see better.

He knew he was exposed and unprotected, but the sheer size of the Monster fascinated him.

It had already forced a portion of itself through the magic-shield and up onto the stone wall itself, where its heads fought the garrison.

The guards needed to hold, at least long enough for the solitary Machina to be reinforced.

The guards knew what would happen if they failed. The same thing that happened to Sapphirine, Titian, Aubergine, and Incarnadine. Annihilation. He started to look towards his own survival, just in case this was the day his city fell.

He moved quickly back inside the tower, and over to the map case.

He opened it and took out the sheaf of maps that marked the Gates.

The king might be calling soon, and would require his aid to get the leaders out, if the Monster shouldered its way all the way through the barrier.

He looked over the map of the Gates that remained his responsibility, to which ones he could still send those marked for salvation.

Six. Six connections to other cities, where there had been dozens.

He jotted them down, to be ready in case the king ordered an evacuation.

He looked at the map again and winced. So many of the Transit Gates had gone dark, lost as the war ground on.

The early expansion as the fight had first been nearly won, the Predators had been nearly destroyed.

Then came the distraction to squabble over spoils, and rounds of civil war that weakened them and allowed the Predators regain their footing.

The second round of wars, with Elvendom diminished and the Monsters resurgent, followed by the slow contraction as all that had been gained by elves had been lost again.

The elves marked their retreat city by city.

The silenced Gates became the cities’ gravestones, monuments to homes and peoples lost.

Another vibration shook the tower, and another vast roar, and a cold surge of fear washed over him.

Haldeen heard more than one copper shot furnace now, as more Machina came online and deployed their heaviest weapons.

He turned back to his table, and its map.

In many ways, this remained more real to him than the battle outside.

Mostly because he didn’t want to think about the battle outside, and what it meant if that battle was lost.

A hundred volumes had been written on a war that had gone on for as long as the elves had been keeping records, and all of it could be summed up on his Gate map. So close to winning, so close to wiping these cursed things away forever, so close to the elves being the undisputed masters of the world.

Another boom against the wall. Another solid hit. He glanced up. The green glow of the Shield bending up into the sky told him it remained intact, though the yellow-white–and green flares lower down showed the strain where the creature struck the shield and forced it into the wall itself.

Haldeen shook his head. He prized himself on his ability to maintain his detachment, even though somewhere deep inside him terror made a cold knot in his gut.

He looked back through the balcony doors.

This Monster, the Polycephalus, showed real determination.

Most would have burned up when they struck the Shield. This one seemed largely immune.

Where were the rest of the cursed Machina? They should have engaged by now.

Another roar and shake of the Tower, and he gave up his map study to return to observe the fight.

He crossed his arms and watched the battle below, trying to remain detached, trying to remain the observer.