Unholy

"What is it?" So-Kehur asked.

"The enemy raised this wind," Chumed answered.

"Well, obviously. But don't worry. They can't keep it up for long. Especially since I have our own wizards working to quell it."

"That's good to hear. But until they succeed, perhaps we ought to hold our position."

The metal mask didn't change expression, but Chumed could feel his master's displeasure gather like the threat of a storm in the air. Because of his psychic abilities, So-Kehur's emotions were often directly perceptible to others. "That's a bad idea," the autharch said. "The invaders may be trying to slow us down so they can slip away."

"With all respect, Milord, they have nowhere to go. Their backs are to the Lapendrar. The river's high, and they have no boats."

"But if we give them time, they might still find a way to cross. Remember, their leaders are zulkirs, with all the power that implies."

Chumed had by no means forgotten, but to him the fact suggested a need for caution, not for haste. Unfortunately, So-Kehur's ambition to prove himself a master general was coloring his judgment.

That meant it would likely be pointless to argue any further. So-Kehur might even sear Chumed's mind with a burst of psychic fire if he tried. So he simply bowed his head and said, "As you command."

The army trudged onward. The wind howled. Horses neighed in protest, soldiers coughed and complained, and their sergeants and officers bellowed at them to keep moving. When the first screams sounded, Chumed wasn't sure he'd actually heard them over the general din.

The next moment resolved his uncertainty.

Hitherto concealed by the blowing dust and the blur of tears in everyone's eyes, demons abruptly scuttled into view. Big as ogres, armored in chitin and spikes and possessed of enormous pincers, they looked vaguely like huge crabs, and they tore into the front ranks of the marching columns with appalling speed. Their claws nipped men in two. Their horns slashed and pierced.

Chumed was a soldier, not a wizard, but he'd read a book or two concerning demons in the hope of knowing what he was facing when an enemy mage conjured entities like these onto the battlefield. Thus, he recognized the attacking brutes as nashrou. "You can kill them!" he shouted. "Strike for the gaps in their armor!"

He then cast about and saw that it didn't look as though anyone had heard him. Everything was too noisy and confused.

He cursed. He was no more eager to venture within reach of one of the demons than any of the wretches they were currently tearing apart, but apparently someone needed to demonstrate how to kill them, and sooner rather than later if he hoped to avert a panic.

Off to his right, a nashrou fought a company of blood orcs. The soldiers were game. Roaring their deafening battle cries, they stood their ground and hacked savagely but to no avail. The demon was still ripping them apart.

Chumed couched his lance and spurred his mount into a charge. His steed was a pure-blood horse, not one of the u

He wondered if he'd have to knock orcs aside or even trample them to reach the nashrou, but they sensed him coming and scrambled out of his way. Unfortunately, the crab-thing noticed him too, and its four legs scurrying, rushed to meet him. A set of pincers spread wide, then shot forward.

His lance, however, was a little longer than the nashrou's limb. It struck first, and punched deep into the fissure between two plates of chitin.

The claw plunged down an instant later. He shifted his shield to block, and the pincers snapped shut on the edges. The metal groaned and buckled.

But it didn't crumple completely, because at that point, the nashrou's legs gave way, and it fell. Its grip on the shield nearly yanked Chumed out of the saddle, but then the armor jerked free.

Chumed studied the motionless creature, trying to make sure it truly was dead. It looked like it to him, and judging from the cacophonous cheers of the surviving orcs, they thought so too.

He tried to pull his lance out of the carcass, but it was stuck fast. He let go of the butt and raised his hand to quiet the orcs. "Strike for the cracks in the shell!" he told them.

They did and killed another nashrou. Other people had evidently figured out how to do it too, for the crab-things were dropping one by one. Crawling and clinging, nearly burying it beneath their bodies, zombies swarmed on one of the demons like ants and stabbed it repeatedly with their blades. A Red Wizard blasted another apart with a single stroke of lightning.

It wasn't too bad, Chumed decided. They hadn't lost too many men, and only a few legio

Then cries rang out behind him.

Several dark, horned giants with batlike wings-devils called malebranches-were diving down out of the sky. Everyone had been too intent on the nashrou to see them coming.

They thumped down among the enclosed wagons. All those conveyances had guards, but they floundered back in terror. The malebranches jabbed at the wagons with their iron tridents, breaking them open as if they were made of eggshells.

It was a typical gray Thayan afternoon, the sky veiled with clouds, smoke, and ash. But enough sunlight filtered down to burn the entities riding in the wagons. One of the carriages rocked back and forth as the thing inside screamed and thrashed in its final agonies.

As soon as a malebranche finished with one wagon, it turned its attention to another. From Chumed's vantage point, it looked as if they had smashed open ten or twelve before the wizards finally took effective action. Then, one by one, the devils froze in place and vanished as magic hurled them back to their native plane of existence.

Chumed rode toward the spot where So-Kehur's steel form gleamed above the heads of his followers. When he got close, he saw that the autharch stood over the corpse of a nashrou like a self-satisfied hunter preening over the body of his kill. He'd evidently played an active part in the fighting, and not just with his sorcery and psychic talents. Spatters of ichor mottled his claws and stinger.

"Well," said So-Kehur, "that went well enough."

"I suppose you could say that," Chumed answered. "We did deal with the demons as efficiently as we had any right to expect. Considering that the dust kept us from seeing them until they were already on top of us."

Chumed regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. But if So-Kehur even heard the implied criticism, combat had left him too exhilarated to make an issue of it. "How long to get the columns moving again?" the autharch asked.

"Not too long. The healers have to tend the wounded, and everyone needs a chance to catch his breath."

"Well, take care of it all as quickly as you can. I want to reach the battlefield by nightfall."

I don't, Chumed thought. Not especially.

It wasn't that he was afraid. He was no coward, and the army they were about to engage had all but crippled itself taking the huge fortress in the northern part of the tharch. But, So-Kehur's bloodlust aside, he still didn't see any compelling reason for this fight, and what was even worse was that the enemy had just demonstrated they could outthink the autharch. Chumed recognized it even if his master didn't.

The round, flat roof of the keep provided a view of the city surrounding the Citadel and the mountains beyond. Columns of smoke rose from some of the latter, and a cold wind blew them toward the bloody sunset.

Bareris looked for some indication that Szass Tam had cast potent enchantments on this place. He didn't see any. But both Aoth and Mirror faltered when they came up the stairs. Apparently the warmage's spellscarred eyes could discern the truth, and the ghost perceived the same "unholy" malignancy to which he'd reacted before.