* * *
‘What in the name of stinking Poliel was that!’ May called out from down the trench.
‘I don't know and I don't wanna know!‘ Nait shouted. ‘Just keep firing!’ A gaggle of skirmishers ran past, heads down, and Nait called to them, ‘Over here! C'mon, take cover!’
They dived into the trench. ‘Gettin’ hot out there,’ one said, an idiotic grin on his smoke-smeared face.
‘Just fire!’ Nait told him. As far as he could see all order had been lost. The lines were intermingled. No clear front remained. But hanging smoke, real and damned Mockra illusion blocked his vision of portions of the field – he knew when the smoke was Mockra because he couldn't smell it. Crimson Guard Blades stalked the field breaking all resistance where they found it. Since May's lucky toss with that melter took out that demon they'd been getting a lot of unwanted attention. So far the focused fire of Nait's squad had driven off three attempts upon them, blunted and deflected the Guardsmen to seek out softer targets. That, and the Moranth Gold who showed up out of nowhere to help defend their position. And speaking of fire, it appeared to be thinning to his left – Nait rose up out of the trench to squint down the line. Heuk was there, talking with Jawl and the boys at their lobber. What in the name of Hood's all-too-close breath was the damned fool up to? The mage then headed to him. ‘Will you get down!’ Nait yelled.
‘Drink this,’ the old drunkard said, shoving his jug at him.
‘Go to the Abyss.’
‘Drink!’ and crouching he pressed it into Nait's hands.
‘All right!’ Nait took an experimental sniff and pushed it away. ‘Gods, no!’
Heuk was unsympathetic. ‘You want help? This is it.’
Reluctantly, Nait raised the jug to his mouth, forced himself to take a mouthful of the cloying fluid, swallowed, gagging. He swiped his leather-palmed gloves across his mouth. ‘Gods! What is that?’
‘Horse blood, mostly.’
‘Horse blood? What're you trying to do? Poison us?’
The mage slapped him on the back, chuckling. Since the battle began the fellow seemed to come into his own; where everyone else ran ducking and wincing he strode straight and unconcerned. He motioned Nait up out of the trench. ‘Come with me. There's someone who wants to talk with you.’
‘Talk with me? What'd you mean?’
‘C'mon.’ And the man took hold of Nait's arm and lifted him from the trench.
Nait stared, rubbing his wrenched shoulder. ‘Take it easy …’ Heuk pushed him up the hill.
The wind that had been blowing constantly down the hillside now intensified. Something came throbbing overhead, a pressure, and he ducked, but Heuk gestured, muttering, and the pounding retreated. Nearby, the ground shuddered, dirt and ash flying into the air along with a few fleeing irregulars.
‘What in the Abyss …’ Nait gaped.
‘Never you mind – just keep the boys firing,’ Heuk said. ‘Here we are,’ and he pushed Nait forward. Suddenly, the air stilled and he saw that someone sat in the grass at the crest of the hillock. A very broad and heavy Dal Hon woman, a fan in one hand waving furiously at her sweaty, glistening, dark face. Sweat also drenched her silk clothes, darkening them and draping them over her wide bosom. Despite being absolutely terrified for his life, Nait was instantly captivated. Dear Gods, what a figure of a woman!
‘This is Bala,’ Heuk said. ‘She's the reason you're still alive.’
‘Yeah? Well, I'm the reason she's still alive!’
The mage's sweat-beaded, thick arms shook as she laughed a throaty chuckle that made Nait faint with desire. ‘Well said, soldier. Your fighting spirit remains, I see. Good – you'll have need of it. To be brief, I am exhausted. I have defied, deflected and blunted the Avowed mages’ efforts to turn this slope into one long killing ground all this long evening. But now I am done. Finished. I thought I was up to anything – that I was a match even for Tayschrenn, but now I find I must withdraw where before he alone faced down these and more. Heuk here will be taking over for me.’
At Nait's obvious alarm she threw up a hand up for silence. ‘If half of what he has shown me is true then you are in good hands. In fact, if any of what I suspect is true I am frankly glad to be withdrawing. So, soldier. Goodbye and good luck. I see from your stupefied gaze that you are of course entranced by our meeting. I would be pleased to remain to torture you with my unattainability but that will have to wait until we meet again.’ She snapped her fan closed with a loud snick like that of a sword sheathing and she disappeared. Nait stared blinking at the empty flattened seat of grass. Just my luck. Meet the woman of my dreams the day I'm gonna die. He knelt to press a hand down on the earth where she'd sat. It was warm to his touch. Lady, let me meet that one again!
Heuk cleared his throat. ‘So you could see her.’
Nait turned on him. ‘Yeah, I could see her!’
‘Good. Look around. What more do you see?’
Wanting to tell the old man to stuff it, Nait reluctantly glanced away to scan the field. Lights moved through the dark of gathering twilight – bright glowing figures among those milling, running and fighting. ‘I see people all lit up.’
‘Good. You have a touch of the talent now. The blood has given you this, as it has everyone down in the trenches. You can see anyone with raised active Warren magics. Now get down there and use that arbalest to blow them to Hood.’
Nait did not have to be told the advantages of this. He grasped hold of his shoulderbag and jogged down the slope. ‘Kibb! Load the lobber!’