Last Battle of the Icemark (31 page)

Strangely, the massive animals didn't seem to be wearing the heavy quilted surcoats, chain mail and plate armour that reports had stated they wore in every attack. Perhaps this was simply an oversight on the part of the Hordes' High Command, or perhaps it was an indication of their growing arrogance and showed that they believed no one could stop the Tri-Horns. Whatever the reason, the oversight could well have made the Allies' job of fighting the monstrous creatures a little simpler. Cressida nodded silently and almost smiled, then, continuing with her assessment of the enemy, she looked beyond the phalanx of Tri-Horns to where she could clearly see the mass of the Hordes themselves. Their ranks seemed to literally boil and seethe as the front ranks constantly flowed and contracted, tightened and expanded as the individual soldiers continually changed their positions. At first sight there seemed to be little evidence of any sort of discipline or control, but Cressida knew that no army could have had such brilliant success against the mighty Polypontian Empire without some sort of order. She was certain that, given time, the framework of the enemy's command structure would become evident. But in the meantime her only concern was to stop their advance towards the Palace Complex and the Emperor.

She raised her hand and immediately dozens of bugles clamoured on the air, sounding the charge of the Polypontian cavalry. This had the desired effect: the retreating defenders turned to see the Allied army and immediately drew aside onto the steep steps and porticos of the fine marble buildings that lined the boulevard.

Cressida now stood in her saddle and, drawing breath, gave
the war cry of the Icemark. “The enemy are among us, they kill our children, they burn our houses. Blood! Blast! And Fire! Blood! Blast! And Fire!”

Back crashed the reply from thousands of throats, human, werewolf and Snow Leopard: “Blood! Blast! And Fire!”

Just behind his sister, in the ranks of the cavalry, Sharley leaned from his saddle and embraced Mekhmet. “The Goddess keep you safe,” he said into his friend's ear.

“And the One keep you safe also,” the Desert Prince replied, and then both boys saluted Kirimin, who trotted beside them. The Snow Leopard raised her head and roared mightily, and all of her people replied, their voices echoing from the surrounding buildings.

Ahead the Tri-Horn squadrons redressed their ranks as they saw the Allied army, but their pace never slackened. Cressida now stood in her stirrups again, and her voice rose like a banner of ferocity above the cavalry. “The enemy are before us! Show no mercy!
SHOW NO MERCY!
”

The cavalry leaped forward, the human troopers singing the fierce battle paean and the Snow Leopards giving the coughing bark of their challenge.

The Tri-Horns bellowed and roared, their huge feet thudding into the ground like muffled rock falls as they advanced.

Above the Allied army the Vampires flew in tight formations, screaming and howling as they raced to meet the enemy. Cressida raised her sword above her head and screamed out an order. Immediately the Snow Leopards galloped ahead, and forming behind their Princess they charged the Tri-Horns.

With a shattering roar, the cats leaped at the giant beasts, swarming up their legs and bodies to attack the mahouts and warriors in the howdahs. The Tri-Horns bellowed and roared
as a raging battle began on their backs. Cressida now led the human cavalry to gallop neatly through the pounding tree-like legs of the beasts and with a roar they fell upon the soldiers of the Hordes that followed behind.

Eodred and Howler led the infantry at a steady swinging trot that ate up the ground before them, and soon housecarle and werewolf were dodging the careering legs of the Tri-Horns as many now blundered directionless across the battlefield. The housecarles charged on in support of the cavalry and their battle against the soldiers of the Hordes, but Eodred and Howler led the Regiment of the Red Eye to scale the living mountains that were the Tri-Horns and joined the battle on the beasts' broad backs. Soon the axes of the mixed regiment of human and werewolf were felling the enemy soldiers as they swarmed over the beasts in support of their Snow Leopard comrades.

The Polypontian defenders now re-joined the battle, pouring down the marble steps of the fine governmental buildings and throwing themselves into the fighting with almost insane ferocity. Eodred stood atop the largest Tri-Horn that had turned back in an attempt to trample Cressida's cavalry, which was fighting to its rear. The Prince of the Icemark swung his axe around his head, roaring out the war cry of the Icemark, and brought it crashing down into the beast's neck at the point where spine met skull. For a moment the massive creature seemed to freeze, and then, with a bellow of agony, slowly crumpled to the ground like a mighty avalanche of flesh and bone and finally lay dead.

The one weak spot of the Tri-Horns had been discovered, and with a cry of triumph, housecarle and werewolf raised their axes and felled the creatures, like woodcutters in a forest
of giant trees. A huge cheer rose up from the Allied army as the once unstoppable fell in ruin and a welter of blood.

Cressida, like all good field commanders, felt the mood of the battle swing in the Allies' favour, and led her cavalry to bite deeper into the seething mass of the Hordes that swarmed before her. The battle-trained horses struck out with their hooves at the enemy, and sword, axe, mace and spear rained down on them in a glittering frenzy that stopped them in their tracks.

The housecarles charged the Hordes with locked shields, the impact sending shock waves through the enemy like a boulder suddenly dropped into a wide body of water. For almost fifteen minutes the Allies drove through the massed ranks of the invaders, while Vampire warriors dropped from the skies to rend them with tooth and sword, and Snow Leopards and the Regiment of the Red Eye also attacked as the last of the mighty Tri-Horns were felled.

The Allies were like an avalanche falling from the highest mountain in the world, smashing and rending all before it. But their power and ferocity was falling into the massed ranks of the Hordes, who spread like a mighty ocean before them; an ocean that could swallow deserts and continents, an ocean that could drown empires and armies.

Within minutes everything had changed; Cressida sensed the battle swinging away from the Allies again, and orders flashed amongst the ranks to tighten positions and change tactics from offence to defence. While the cavalry held the line, the rest of the Allied army withdrew a short distance, and quickly the broad boulevard of the Eppian Way was bisected by a hastily reconstructed barrier of timber, overturned wagons and sacks filled with earth. Defending it was a living
defensive wall that stood ten deep and bristled with steel, tooth and claw.

But before the wall seethed a mass of warriors who'd never yet been stopped. To any lesser force, fighting an army that contained werewolves, Snow Leopards and Vampires would have been a terrifying prospect, but the Hordes were supreme in their arrogance and confidence. They believed themselves to be the avenging instrument of the Goddess, and nothing could stop them. They had no idea that their interpretation of the Deity was corrupt and blasphemous; they had no idea that before them stood Cressida Aethelflaed Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, known as Striking Eagle, Crown Princess of the Icemark, and one of the most formidable warriors in the northern world.

Cressida and the rest of the cavalry now dismounted and joined the defensive wall. Beside her stood Leonidas, and he smiled shyly as their shields overlapped. But then the Hordes let out a huge roar and all attention was concentrated on a unit of truly enormous Tri-Horns that slowly rolled into view.

Cressida's quick military mind immediately spotted that this time the huge animals were wearing full armour, with heavy surcoats and massively thick iron collars that protected the vulnerable junction of spine and skull. Could this really be a reaction to the loss of the other Tri-Horns to the axes of the Red Eye? There'd been no obvious evidence of messages being sent down the line, so perhaps it was mere coincidence. But even so, it had to be admitted that such details could easily be lost in the chaos of battle.

“They're not going to be so easy to stop,” said Cressida as she watched the distant Tri-Horns' ponderous advance. “Their necks are protected.”

“No,” agreed Andronicus, who stood next to Leonidas. “But there are ways. With your permission, Ma'am . . .?”

“Certainly, General,” said Cressida, and watched as Andronicus beckoned a Polypontian commander.

“Antonius, your men are skilled with the pike?”

“That's their normal role, sir. But we thought long spears wouldn't be much use in street fighting.”

“Well, they have a use now. My pike regiments almost turned the Tri-Horns in the last battle I had with Erinor. Where are the spears kept?”

“In the Palace armoury, sir.”

“How long to fetch them and be back here to defend the wall?”

“Twenty minutes, sir. Half an hour at most.”

“Make it fifteen. Take your men and run – run as if the survival of the city depended on it, because it does, commander, it does!”

“In the meantime, we hold the line, I presume,” said Cressida quietly.

“Yes, Ma'am,” Andronicus replied.

C
HAPTER
23

T
he army of Ice Demons had been called by Cronus from all corners of the Darkness, and was resplendent in a glittering display of banners and panoplies of arms and armour. Somehow the accoutrements of human war added to the hideous effect of their presence, and as they bellowed and raged in their disciplined ranks, the beat of their wings sent out an icy gale that blasted over the rolling wastes of the Darkness. Cronus and Medea reviewed their ‘conquering host' from a balcony high on the walls of the Bone Fortress and smiled in triumph. They'd accelerated their preparations for invasion, and now it was a reality!

Both Adepts manipulated the army of ferocious creatures by mind control. Each dominated the psyche of the leading Ice Demons, and as they forced them to follow whatever tactics they wished, the rest of the massive army followed. Once they were within sight of the enemy, the rest was simple; the demons had an inbred instinct to kill and maim, and they did it to perfection.

Medea's new body reflected the power and pride of the army, and was as polished and formidable as a weapon. When
next she faced her father, no amount of damage to this physical form could hinder or endanger her. She had become, in effect, virtually immortal; only the most powerful of Adepts could extinguish the spark of her life.

In the entire army only one other, in the form of Medea's grandfather, would be able to function efficiently without their outward form. Cronus looked magnificent in white armour, complete with a large white shield and a helmet that was plumed with white ostrich feathers. In his bone-white hands he also held a long staff that was covered in mystical symbols and had a globe of crystal at the top. This was his Staff of Power, and represented his right to rule the Physical Realms. Medea shuddered with a delicate combination of horror and revulsion at the very sight of his expressionless white face and flat, black eyes. He truly looked the part of the pre-eminent, all-conquering sorcerer, and a sense of deranged power surrounded him.

He stepped forward, the crystal in his staff glittering like a malevolent eye, and glared at all before him. “Soldiers of the Darkness. The land of the Icemark is waiting now for our conquering power! The repellent Witchfather and his sorceresses have left their home undefended, and by the time he learns of his mistake the land will be ours, the first in the Physical Realms to fall to our will. Savour this moment of history; you stand on the threshold of a new empire that will encompass all of the Physical Realms, and once that is secured, there remains only the stars and the very heavens themselves! Let the Gods gaze on our actions and tremble, and let them look to their defences; we go to strike the first blow in a war that one day will march on Paradise itself!”

A great railing, howling, hooting cheer greeted his words.
Then, as the sound slowly died away, Cronus raised his staff above his head and the hideous constellations of dark stars seemed to draw together, and then slowly to spin. Gradually their speed increased until a swirling nimbus of light surrounded a widening mouth of blackness. Cronus had created a tunnel between the Darkness and the Physical Realms that could accommodate an entire army! Medea felt dizzy with awe; nothing could withstand them in any of the worlds or plains of the Multiverse!

The tunnel between the worlds drew them in, and the army, thousands strong, entered the space that bridged the Physical Realms and the Darkness. For the briefest of moments, all went black, and then gradually Medea saw a grey pulsating half-light settle over them. They were in the dead and silent space between Realms. Noise fell flat and echoless as a voice in a small room packed with soft linen. The silence permeated everything, worming its way into the listening mind like dust invading the intricate workings of a delicate instrument.

Many of the Ice Demons began to snort and bellow in panic, their huge voices falling tiny and useless in that massive void of silence. But Medea and Cronus exerted a rigid control over their army, and they stood in restless ranks as the Arc-Adept probed at the interstices between the Magical and Physical Realms.

At last a breach was made. Sound rushed in like air into a vacuum, and a night of brilliant stars and a blazing full moon erupted around them. They were in the Icemark. Medea drew air into the cavity of her chest, as though filling the lungs she no longer had, and savoured the pine-spiced, earth-scented air. She was home, and she wouldn't leave the Icemark again until
she was its undisputed queen!

Quickly she looked about her; the army stood on the Plain of Frostmarris, close to the Great Forest, and already twisted and hideous forms were beginning to emerge from the shadows of the trees. Medea had expected this; the witches and warlocks of the Dark Craft had been hiding in the secret depths of the forest for decades, waiting for the opportunity to strike back at the human power that had banished them from the land. She smiled; their psychic Gifts would be a useful addition to the army. She prepared to make them welcome.

As usual Cronus had planned everything perfectly; now that they were limited by the physical restrictions of the world, the army would be far too large to be contained within the city of Frostmarris itself when it inevitably fell. But even so, elite advanced forces would soon be attacking the city and strategic points throughout the land, silencing the werewolf relay. Within seconds the Wolf-folk would be dead, and the routine calls of the relay would be magically mimicked so that no hint of trouble would reach Oskan Witchfather far to the south.

Medea turned to watch as Cronus raised his crystal-topped Staff of Power again and prepared to give the order to march on the capital. He stood imperious and commanding, seeming to tower over the land which, Medea thought, was already as good as his. But before he could speak, a single high-pitched screech sounded on the night air. Medea snatched her admiring gaze away and scanned the skies, searching for the source of the call, which sounded all too familiar.

Their invasion of the Physical Realms had been discovered. As she watched, strange squadron-like formations appeared as black shadows against the dark sky. The high-pitched screech
sounded again, and after a pause many answered, filling the night sky.

Cronus immediately amended his orders. The Ice Demons took up defensive positions for an aerial attack: shields were raised and locked, and spears bristled beyond the makeshift roof of wood and steel.

Medea scuttled to safety beneath the shields of the nearest unit of Demons, and watched as the Vampire Squadrons folded their wings and fell from the skies in a vicious rain.

This had
not
been expected. When they'd considered the Vampiric army at all, both she and Cronus had assumed that they'd remain neutral at the very worst. There was even some hope that they might have joined with them in the battle to capture the Icemark. After all, the Vampire King and Queen had only ever been the most reluctant of allies of the House of Lindenshield. And yet, here were Undead soldiers defending Frostmarris! The Arc-Adept was guilty of a monumental miscalculation, to say the least!

Before she could analyse the situation further, Medea was distracted by the Vampire attack. Dozens of bat warriors crashed through the Ice Demons' raised shields, and, as the Undead warriors transmuted into their human forms, vicious hand-to-hand fighting began. Medea blasted three Vampires where they stood, leaving nothing but smoking ash behind, but elsewhere the black serrated swords of the Vampiric army traded blow for blow with the clubs and axes of the Ice Demons.

The monsters from the Darkness were bigger and stronger than the Vampires, but the Undead warriors were lightning-fast, and moved with an intelligent and deadly elegance that left the Demons confused.

The roar of battle alerted the garrison in Frostmarris, and now giant ballista bolts were fired from the walls of the city and began to scythe through the ranks of the Demon army, skewering many where they stood and causing a panic which threatened to get out of control.

Medea glared about her in horror as the ranks of the army began to waver. In the confusion of the attack she'd become separated from Cronus, and she desperately searched for his white armour amongst the milling bodies that surrounded her. But he was nowhere to be seen. She suddenly felt completely isolated amidst the chaos of a growing disaster. Already, on the outer edges of the massive host, some of the Demons had begun to run, and as the ballista batteries properly calibrated the range, a constant and deadly hail of bolts began to power through the ranks, cutting down hundreds of the creatures.

She was close to panic herself when Cronus's voice smoothly moved into her consciousness. “Join with me, Granddaughter. Assert mind control over the Demons. Force them to stand their ground.”

Of course! With a flood of relief she melded her powers with those of Cronus, and together they reached out and secured a grip of iron over the collective psyche of the army. Immediately the ranks steadied, and began to fight back furiously against the Vampire warriors. Forced on to the defensive, many of them quickly leaped into flight, from which they harried the army as it resumed its advance on Frostmarris.

High on the battlements of the city, the housecarles and werewolves of the garrison were running to their stations and taking up their positions. Exactly who was attacking wasn't clear, but they were ready to defend Frostmarris to the last. Many of them took heart in seeing the Vampire squadrons
already engaging the enemy, but as they watched, the Undead warriors suddenly rose away from the battle and seemed to hesitate.

Now the Ice Demons were making headway again, Cronus took a moment to reassess the situation. He found a weak spot in the enemy line. If he could get to the Vampiric commander all would be well.

Cronus's mind reached out and sliced through the resistance of her mind like a razor; he located the Vampire commander's consciousness and began to squeeze, shape and mould her thoughts to his will.

The commander found herself thinking,
We can't win; we're outnumbered. Better to disengage and seek orders from the Queen
. For a moment she was shocked by the thought, and began to give orders to renew the attack, but Cronus tightened his grip, crushing all independent thought and resistance.

I can't risk losing my patrol in a futile action; Her Vampiric Majesty would be furious. I must withdraw and report back to the Queen
.

She could resist no longer; throwing back her head, she gave the call to retreat and regroup.

Immediately the squadrons disengaged, transforming into their bat forms and wheeling away from the battle; then, after one brief circuit of the Plain of Frostmarris, the Vampires powered away into the darkness.

Cronus and Medea relaxed; they were now free to concentrate on the city garrison. Melding their Mind-Powers once again, they reached out and crushed the simple psyches of the defending force, until the entire garrison was almost incoherent with fear. Cronus and Medea inserted nightmare images
into their minds; playing on their worst fears of the dark, of death, of disabling injuries, they filled each individual's mind with blind terror to the exclusion of all other thought.

But the werewolf commander realised that the enemy was playing with his soldiers' minds. With a supreme effort he regained some control, and, leaping onto the battlements, he rallied his housecarles and wolf warriors.

“To me! To me!” he bellowed, over the roaring of the Ice Demons. “We've nothing to fear. These nightmares are just ghosts and phantoms sent by the enemy. Confront them; face them, and they'll fade away!”

All around him, his soldiers rubbed their eyes and shook their heads as though waking from terrible dreams. “We control the walls, and nothing can get in while we defend them!” the commander went on. “Look to your comrades and nothing can break us. We are they who defeated Bellorum; we are they who stood against empires and won!” He threw back his head and let out a blood-curdling howl that echoed through the night sky. “Now take up your weapons and follow me!”

With a great cheer the entire garrison then surged forward as one, and followed their commander as he leaped to his death from the highest battlements in Frostmarris. In a great cascade of armour, weaponry and living flesh, over a thousand warriors fell to the rocks far below, where their bodies were smashed apart and their blood ran in a crimson stream to soak deep into the soil of the Icemark.

Out on the Plain of Frostmarris, Cronus smiled gently to himself. It was so sad how misguided mortals could be. After an initial setback, everything had gone wonderfully well. It really was so refreshing when plans and preparations bore the required fruit. Reaching out to his granddaughter, he placed a
thought in her mind.

“Medea, I do believe the battle for Frostmarris is over.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” she answered simply. “I do believe you're right.”

The Ice Demon army now swarmed over the Plain of Frostmarris and into the city, securing their victory and establishing control. The victory from start to finish had taken much less than an hour, and their casualty rate was negligible and unimportant.