The House of Yeel

Chapter 19: Battle under a Green Sky





Aruscetar stood staring at the green sky. Jymoor vaguely recalled a time when she found the color shocking. It felt like long ago.

“It’s beautiful. Yet…well, alien of course,” Aruscetar said.

“I promise it’s a world worth fighting for,” Jymoor said. “Yeel and Vot are powerful allies. You won’t regret this.”

Yeel emerged along with a few awestruck Rikenese officers and soldiers. He approached Aruscetar.

“Welcome to Ascara-home. Or almost. It’s very near. I believe your kind can see great distances? It may be visible from atop these rocks.”

“It will take a while to get our men through this portal,” an officer said. Though he stared at the landscape all around, he still had his head. He directed the knights just coming through to an area away from the portal.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t let the enemy know you’re here. Hide among these tall stones as long as you can. Then, attack the rear. That’s how you might be most effective,” Yeel suggested.

“Yes! I understand your plan exactly,” Aruscetar said. “We’ll wait until their forces are committed against the fortress, then charge into them from behind. We’ll form up here immediately.”

“Then I wish you good luck, as I must depart and stand with Vot on the bridge. As I understand it will be a vital choke point for the attack. I have some special weapons prepared for the conflict.”

“I would go with you, but I think I’m needed on this side of the battle,” Jymoor said confidently.

“Yes! We need you desperately,” Aruscetar agreed.

“Then I’ll see you after the battle,” Yeel said. “Exercise caution. A battle can be very—”

“Yes! We know! Good luck,” Aruscetar said. Yeel moved off toward the mainland.

“Yeel! The fortress is that direction!” Jymoor pointed out.

“Oh. Yes, of course. It does go downhill a bit over there. Good point,” Yeel said. He hurried off.

King Aruscetar rolled his eyes.

“The geniuses are always eccentric in the extreme,” he commented.

Jymoor said nothing. She was getting nervous. She remembered her—or her previous self’s—battles against the Quan. The memories were there in her mind, though a bit blurred, as if from a dream. She checked her belt for the sword.

Switch to the sword if the hunting birds are around.

“Form the ranks, and be quiet about it,” Aruscetar was telling one of his commanders. “Use flag commands only, until the charge. Keep the knights here on my right. We can charge along the beach where it’s more open.”

Jymoor watched more men at arms pouring from the portal. The men were grim, but it seemed like there were so many of them. Jymoor had no idea how many Quan they faced, but she thought it must be a lot if they hoped to capture the fortress.

“Up here,” Aruscetar said to Jymoor. He pointed at a tall rock. A scout had scampered up its back face and motioned to them. Aruscetar scaled the rock easily, even in his armor. Jymoor, though strong, felt it hard to keep her balance. She moved up after the king, moving more deliberately. Then she settled in beside Aruscetar to survey the landscape.

From the top, they could see the potential battlefield in front of the fortress. Jymoor quickly spotted the enemy forming up.

“They’re so close. They’re going to spot us if they don’t…wait. They’re moving out.”

The army moved forward. Jymoor watched carefully. She had good eyesight, necessary for her old profession. The shapes resolved into individual Quan. But the front ranks were carrying something over their heads.

The Quan approached the water. They held long flotation devices. They looked like pontoons with shields hammered on the top to protect them. Four powerful Quan carried each one overhead.

“They know they can’t rely on the bridge alone. They’re going to attack by sea at the same time,” Aruscetar noted. He looked back out over the Rikenese soldiers.

“Perhaps three quarters of our force has made it through the gate. None too soon.”

As the Quan below approached the sea, a pink mist sprayed out of the ground all around them. They put up their arms, alarmed. Most of the Quan set down their pontoons, breaking their ranks. They stood, waiting. When nothing happened, their leaders urged them to pick the pontoons back up.

“What manner of attack was that?” demanded Master Kasil. “Poison spray?”

“I have no idea,” Aruscetar said. “But it was completely ineffective.”

“Wait…I see something!”

A huge head atop a serpentine neck appeared from the sea. Then, another. And another. The heads were huge, large enough to swallow even a Quan whole, Jymoor thought.

“That is Yeel or Vot’s doing,” Jymoor said rapidly. “Somehow the mist has attracted those awful sea monsters.”

“So huge! Dragons!” Aruscetar bellowed.

“They’ll eat the Quan!”

Even as Jymoor said it, the monsters attacked. The long necks snaked forward to snatch up Quan from the beach. The Quan started to fight back, hurling javelins at the sea monsters.

Meanwhile, a legion of the flightless birds stormed the bridge. Huge Quan in heavy armor were ready to come in after them. Jymoor watched the charge on the bridge. She saw Yeel and Vot standing in the middle. She felt a bit of panic, seeing Yeel so close to the front.

Then a huge ball of fire engulfed the bridge where the giant birds were concentrated. A plume of black smoke obscured the scene, but Jymoor could see the light from more bursts of flame.

“You’re right about their power. I see that now,” Aruscetar said.

Dozens of missiles began to fly from atop the fortress. Most looked like fenlar, though Jymoor caught side of at least one much larger missile, probably launched from the ballistae she remembered seeing on the outer walls.

“Now’s our time,” Aruscetar said. He turned to an officer down below. “Prepare for the attack! Knights charge, followed by the men-at-arms.”

“The archers?”

“No time! Send them in behind.”

A soldier brought up Aruscetar’s horse. It had a metal plate over its head and a broad plate covering the front of its chest. Aruscetar carefully stepped down onto it from the rock. The huge warhorse accepted the weight readily. Someone handed him his helmet.

“I’m leading the knights’ charge. Should I fall, save Maristaple at any cost,” he said. His horse bolted off toward the other knights.

Jymoor scrambled down the rock, half climbing, half falling. She heard the hooves of horses moving out and knew it must be the knights. She scrabbled around the rock to join the men-at-arms moving forward with their halberds ready.

“Wait! Jymoor, with me!” Kasil cried. “You see that litter over there at the back of their line? That’s a leader.”

Jymoor felt joy at seeing her sword master bedecked in studded leather and a thin longsword. She was really starting to feel like she belonged here with these familiar-yet-strange people. Jymoor spotted the construct Kasil had pointed out.

“That must be one of the Meridalae,” she said. “I’m with you!”

Jymoor looked around where many of the Companions clustered nearby.

“Companions! With us!” she called. The Companions surged forward to join them. They moved out as one.

Jymoor’s heart beat wildly. She held her fenlar and matched the pace of those around them. She felt sure it was only the power of the moon armor that gave her the strength to keep up.

“Just a bit slower, or we’ll be winded,” Kasil warned. She was breathing heavily.

They slowed a bit. Jymoor took a peek around through the wide visor. The Companions were still with them. Many had heavy armor, even shields.

As they closed to within fifty paces of the litter from behind, a few Quan caught sight of the attack and ran to intercept. Jymoor didn’t get a good look at the commander in the litter. She saw a long arm pointing to the fortress, doubtless issuing commands.

A Quan came toward Jymoor, its thick sword raised. Jymoor closed fearlessly and sidestepped as she watched the sword come down. She helped deflect the blow further with the shaft of her fenlar. The range was too close to stick the Quan with the barb of her weapon, so she simply thwacked him across the back of his head, sending his helm flying. Another Quan attacked her so she had to stab at him rather than finishing the wounded one. Then she threw the fenlar at the throat of a third enemy and drew her sword.

Master Kasil yelled and stuck the Quan next to her clean through. Blood spurted across Jymoor’s legs. She caught sight of a Quan too late. A tremendous blow to the armor knocked her back. A vague memory surfaced. Her previous death.

I remember that pain.

Jymoor stood stunned. As the Quan readied to finish her, the spear of a Companion plunged into one of its eyeballs and out the back of its head, sending gore spurting out. Someone helped steady her. Jymoor gripped her sword a bit tighter and continued forward.

The Companions had carved through the makeshift defense of the enemy leader. Jymoor approached the litter. The Quan standing nearby, presumably the litter carriers, had weapons but no armor. As she closed in, Master Kasil at her side, Jymoor finally saw the leader. He stood up on the vehicle.

“Moon protect me,” she said. It wasn’t a he, it was an it.

A huge gash of a mouth crossed the entire head, filled with a hundred white needle-teeth. A single eye was the only feature above the mouth. There was no white to it: the entire eye was glossy black. The thing was even taller than a Quan. The shoulders were broad, like a man, and heavily muscled. It had dark blue skin. A long mace of bone, ending in a heavy knob, dangled from its long arm.

“That’s one ugly—” Kasil cried.

The thing screamed in anger. The horrible mouth was so wide it looked like the top of its head would flop off.

Kill it kill it kill it!

Jymoor felt herself move toward it as if she was disembodied. The creature swung. Jymoor took the mighty blow and staggered. She thrust with her sword, grazing the monster’s side.

Its awful mouth came down. The sun was blocked out. Jymoor heard the nightmare sound of dozens of tiny teeth scraping the outside of her helm. She felt needle-stabs of pain in her neck and her eyebrow. She must have screamed, but she heard only the intolerable scraping. Jymoor released her helm strap with her left hand. Then her helm was pulled off, still in the thing’s mouth. The giant bluish thing rose above her and spat the helmet out.

Jymoor took a deep breath of the thick air. She released a battle cry from her parched throat. Her sword swung up in a quick slice. The creature’s right arm went flying away. Jymoor grunted in effort. Her sword came back down. The thing’s left arm dropped to the ground.

It screamed again, but this time, it was a less frightening, more pathetic noise.

Jymoor thrust, impaling the awful monster through the chest. As it collapsed beneath her, Jymoor stepped onto its chest, holding the pommel of her sword which stuck straight up at the sky.

Was that really me? Did I just kill it?

“Well done,” Master Kasil called to her. “But next time just thrust and be done with it. Also, pull your blade back out right away. You may need it again very, very soon.”

Great moon, is this a battle or a lesson?

Master Kasil caught her look and laughed. Jymoor heaved her blade out and collected herself for more fighting.





***





The last of the war birds had burned and died on the stained stones before Yeel. But the creatures were simply replaced by the next threat: heavily armored Quan.

“Is their armor primarily iron based, or perhaps it’s mostly copper?” Yeel asked quickly.

“Iron,” Vot replied. “I’m thinking the same thing you are.” She handed Yeel a stuffed bag of powder.

“Oh! You brought more than I have,” Yeel said. Both of them started to swing the bags around on the end of long, powerful tentacles.

Ascarans charged by on the bridge to meet the Quan. They held the attack at first, but Yeel judged it couldn’t last. Yeel and Vot launched the bags, sending them hurling forward over the bridge. Vot’s struck right at the front, where Ascarans fought the advancing Quan toe to toe. Yeel’s missile struck farther back. The containers burst upon impact, covering the Quan and a few of the Ascarans in front.

Vot handed Yeel another bag. The consistency felt different. Yeel knew it would be a fluid this time. He swung the bag round several times, gaining speed, then released it. Vot launched her own a moment later. This time as the bags struck and sprayed their contents, the effects were almost immediate. Steam rose from the Quan’s metal armor. The powerful humanoids were immediately in distress.

They danced about wildly in pain. Then pieces of their armor started to fall onto the stones of the bridge. The solution quickly ate away at the metal, heating it up and dissolving it as Yeel watched.

The Ascarans used the chaos to their advantage. They pressed forward, striking the Quan before them with their fenlar. More missiles came in from the towers above and behind. Dead bodies littered the way to the fortress. A few Quan threw the bodies of their brothers over the edge of the bridge, but they’d lost their momentum. Now the Ascarans pressed forward and regained most of the bridge. The unarmored Quan were no match for their fenlar. Some of the huge Quan warriors even jumped over the edge of the bridge.

“Their army is breaking up,” Vot observed. “Tuluk and his pod have destroyed most of the sea invaders.”

“The hormone worked quite well. They look quite enraged, still. In fact, I don’t think I will be going down there for quite some time. I would hate to have survived the attack simply to be sliced open by a giant sea predator.”

“And I see the army of Riken has struck at the leaders in the back. Their knights charged in from the flank. No wonder most of the Quan army is in shambles. The Meridalae have been soundly defeated. I wish I could say we won’t see them again here at Ascara-home.”

“I hope Jymoor isn’t harmed. Though I usually don’t favor the strong silent type, I still admire her. And she’s a good champion for her people. I think she had the moral fiber and work ethic to be of net benefit for her race.”

“The day is ours,” Vot said. “I thank you, Yeel. You’re a good friend. A fine fighter, too. Why, I think you didn’t flinch one time. Your well-aged body came close to harm, there is no doubt. I think I saw at least one Quan raise a javelin toward you.”

“No need to thank me,” Yeel replied. “It is I who should thank you for the opportunity to oppose the Meridalae. In fact, if memory serves, as it almost never does, I may owe you a debt for freeing me from them, many years ago. Believe me when I say that if I did in fact owe you such a debt I would make it one of my highest priorities to repay it. And in a timely manner, too, with interest as it were.”

“Think no more of it. Dismiss it from your mind. Beings as close as us have no need of the concept of debt. We each do what we can when we can. And now I must give thanks to the Rikenese. They trusted us. I must make sure they don’t regret it. It would be very embarrassing if they were now to all die to their barbarian horde.”

“I suggest you be brief. Their kind is loathe to speak or listen at length. Why I have lost count of the times I was interrupted before I could even reach midspeech! They won’t tolerate it, I tell you.”

“I was wondering why you had become so short-tongued. I thought maybe you were falling silent in your adult years. I’ll be as brief as I possibly can,” Vot said. “Perhaps a speech of only ten minutes? What do you think? Should I also use short sentences?”

“Hmm. The shorter the better. And you should consider making it five minutes,” Yeel advised. “Don’t underestimate how much they detest extended listening or speaking. In fact, I wonder just now, which do they hate more? I should ask Jymoor when I see her. Or perhaps conduct an experiment of some kind, as soon as I can devise it.”





***





Three hours later, the attacking army had scattered. Bodies lay on the bridge, sprawled on the beach, and floated in the sea, reminding everyone of the carnage. Vot moved forward from her guard of Ascarans toward the army of Riken. She moved unerringly toward Aruscetar. The ranks opened to allow her to approach. She came closer and addressed him.

“I am Vot. I find myself deeply in your debt.”

A reflected war cry from the previous battle washed over them. The Rikenese looked alarmed.

“Please ignore the echoes; they are normal for this place,” Vot said. “They may linger for hours more to remind us of our victory.”

Aruscetar gently took Vot’s hand and kissed it.

“Queen Vot. I am King Aruscetar of Riken. I’m sorry we had to meet under such dire circumstances.”

“I would like to welcome you and your men to Ascara-home and invite you to a feast, as thanks for your aid,” Vot said. “I can also immediately offer a piece of information. I’m sorry to speak so plainly and to the point, but I found a spy among my men. It became clear in a message we intercepted that you have a spy in your city as well, working for our enemies. The spy is called Seer Yune.”

Aruscetar’s visage fell. The king nodded slowly.

“I feared it. She has gone missing. Thank you for daring to say it. I believe you.”

“Oh, um, very sorry to interrupt your lord- and ladyships,” Yeel said. “However I see…that is, my very mystical and magical servants see, that the barbarians are approaching Maristaple again!”

“Queen Vot, would you be displeased if your new friends had to ask repayment for their aid in a hasty and rude manner?”

“We honor our debts gladly. I only regret that Tuluk and his pod cannot come fight with us.”

“Tuluk?”

“The sea dragons,” Jymoor explained.

“Well, perhaps they can come with us,” Yeel said. “I have an idea…”