The Desert Spear

“He brays like a camel,” Hasik said.

“Be silent,” Jardir snapped. He narrowed his eyes, but then the slinger called, “Ready!”

“Fire!” Jardir said. The greenlander leapt for the warrior who went to cut the rope, but Hasik grabbed him, hurling him roughly away.

“I knew we could not trust a chin, First Warrior,” he growled. “He protects the demon!”

Jardir wasn’t so sure, staring hard at the man, who struggled wildly in Hasik’s grip. He pointed again, this time down at the wall, shouting, “Alagai!”

Lessons long dismissed as legend returned to Jardir in a rush—tales of the great demons that had assaulted Krasia’s walls in the time of the first Deliverer, and everything came into sharp focus. The greenlander hadn’t been pointing to the sling; he was pointing to the stone.

Rock demon, Jardir realized in dawning horror.

“Rock demon!” he shouted, but it was too late. He heard the report as the sling arm released its cargo, and turned helplessly to watch. Behind him, the greenlander wailed.

The stone soared through the air, and it seemed as if man and alagai alike held their breath. The one-armed rock demon looked up at the stone—a boulder that had taken three warriors to lift into place.

And then, impossibly, the demon caught the stone in the crook of its good arm and hurled it back with terrible force.

The boulder struck the great gate, smashing a hole and sending cracks spiderwebbing from the point of impact. The rock demon charged, striking that same spot again and again. Magic sparked and flared, but the warding was too damaged to have any real effect. The gate shook with each blow, and one side tore from its hinges, smashing to the ground inside.

The rock demon leapt through, roaring as it ran into the Maze. Behind it, demons poured through the breach.

Jardir’s face flared hot, then went suddenly cold. The great gates of Krasia had not been breached in living memory. The dal’Sharum trapped in the Maze would be hunted like animals, and it was his own fault for not listening to the greenlander.

I have brought my people to ruin, he thought, and for a moment, all he could do was watch dumbly as the alagai invaded the Maze.

Embrace the fear, you fool! he shouted to himself. The night may yet be saved!

“Scorpions!” he cried. “Shift positions and lay down cover fire while we close off the breach! Sling teams! I want stones falling to crush any alagai getting in and to block the way for the rest!”

“We can’t fire so close,” one slinger said. Others nodded, and Jardir could see the same terror on their faces that he had felt a moment before. They needed a more immediate terror to snap them from their stupor.

He punched the slinger in the face, laying him flat on the walltop. “I don’t care if you have to drop the stones by hand! Do as I command!”

The man’s night veil grew wet with blood and his response was unintelligible, but he punched a fist to his chest and staggered to his feet, moving to obey. The other Mehnding did the same, their fear lost in a flurry of activity.

He looked at the nie’Sharum. “Sound the breach.” As the boy raised the horn to his lips, he felt a wave of failure and shame that such a command be given on his watch.

But the feeling was quickly shaken. There was too much to do. He turned to Hasik. “Gather as many men and Warders as you can and meet us at the gate. We go to seal the breach.”

Hasik gave a whoop and charged off, seeming thrilled at the prospect of leaping into a sandstorm of alagai. Jardir ran the walltops toward the spot where his personal unit fought under Shanjat. He needed his own men behind him for this. The other Kaji might still resent Jardir for betraying their tribe, but the men who had fought with him nightly for years were still his utterly.

The greenlander kept pace with him, and Jardir wished he had the words to send him away, or the time to make him understand. Even if he wanted to help, an untrained warrior would only get in the way of Jardir’s tight, cohesive unit.

There was a shriek in the sky, and the greenlander shouted, “Alagai!”

The man crashed into Jardir, bearing them both down to the wall. Jardir felt the wind as leathern wings passed just above them.

Jardir cursed as they rolled apart, casting about for a net, but of course there was none to be found. The greenlander was quicker to his feet, standing crouched with his spear at the ready as the wind demon banked and came back.

He is brave, if a fool, Jardir thought. What does he hope to do without a net?

But as the demon came in, the greenlander dropped suddenly to one knee, stabbing hard with his long spear. The barbed head broke through the thin membrane of the alagai’s wing right at the shoulder joint, and with a twist he used the spear as a lever to turn the demon’s own momentum against it and flip it over onto its back on the wall.

The demon was not seriously harmed, but the greenlander moved quickly, grabbing the straps of the shield that hung loosely on his arm and pressing its warded surface against the demon’s chest.

Magic flared at the contact, jolting the creature so that it thrashed and shrieked madly. Jardir wasted no time in planting his spear deep in the stunned creature’s eye. It kicked and screamed, and Jardir pulled his weapon free and drove it into its other eye, twisting until the creature lay still.

The greenlander looked up at him, his eyes alive with excitement, and said something in his Northern tongue.

Jardir laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “You surprise me, Arlen, son of Jeph!”

Together, they ran the walltops to Jardir’s men.

Everywhere, there were warriors fighting for their lives in the Maze, but Jardir could not pause to save them. If the breach was not sealed, the sun would rise to find every Sharum in the Maze torn to shreds.

“Sell your lives dearly!” he shouted as his men thundered past. “Everam is watching!”

A roar and accompanying screams echoed through the Maze, seeming to shake the very walls. Somewhere behind them, the giant rock demon was laying waste to his men.

Leap the hurdles before you, he told himself. Nothing else matters if the breach cannot be sealed.

They found the courtyard before the great gate in ruin. Alagai and dal’Sharum alike lay dead and dying, speared by scorpion bolts or torn from tooth and claw. The Mehnding had managed to pile some rubble before the broken door, but the nimble alagai scrambled over it effortlessly.

“Fall off!” Jardir cried, and the few ragged dal’Sharum still fighting in the courtyard broke off and quickly got out of the way.

Shields locked, Jardir’s warriors ran at full speed for the breach, ten wide and ten deep. Beside him in the first rank, the greenlander ran, matching their pace as if he had been drilling with the dal’Sharum all his life. A chin he might be, but the man was no stranger to spear and shield.

The warriors on the edges picked up speed as they went, forming the ranks into a shallow V as they scooped up entering sand demons and drove them back toward the gate.

There was a sharp impact as they hit the incoming tide of alagai, but the wards on their shields flared, and the alagai were thrown back. The warriors roared at the resistance, those behind adding force to the press, keeping a bright flare of magic between them and the demons. Slowly, Jardir’s hundred began to force their way to the gate.

“Back ranks!” Jardir shouted, and the ranks farthest back spun about with a snap, locking shields and advancing, opening up a wide area between the forward and backward ranks where the Pit Warders could work. The elite dal’Sharum dropped their spears and slung their shields over their backs, producing lacquered ceramic plates from their battle bags. Two Warders laid the plates out in order across the yard before the breach. The other two took up their spears and used them as straightsticks, lining up the plates one by one.