The Crystal Warriors (22 page)

In the center of each square a wall crystal was deployed, a sorcerer and several assistants behind it to aim the heavy weapon. The sorcerers, defensive shields could be seen turning up to maximum all along the front.

Mark brought his own shield up and looked over at Ikawa, who still was silent, without shielding of any kind.

"Private Takeo," Mark cried.

"Here, Captain."

Mark beckoned towards Ikawa and the young private went over to Ikawa's side. Standing next to his commander, Takeo brought up his own shielding to protect both of them. He would not be able to fight, but at least his commander would have some protection.

A lightning flash cut through the air from the first wall crystal; one of the snakes tumbled from the sky. In seconds all the wall crystals were in play. To Mark they looked like searchlight beams cutting through the morning air. Wherever a beam touched there was an explosion of flesh and another snake fell, hissing. There'd be a momentary pause as the sorcerers working the crystal focused their strength, and then another flash of light.

But it was not enough. The leading edge of the darkness swept over the embattled camp. The Subata were upon them.

Never had Mark heard such a mind-numbing cacophony―the screams of thousands of terrified men, the explosive snap of crystals firing, the steady thunder of the drums, and a shrieking hiss, almost like nails on a blackboard, that came from the Subata as they swooped in.

All around him his men aimed and fired, gathered their strength, and fired again. But so powerful were the snakes that many could absorb several blasts from an individual sorcerer before they finally went down.

The men comprising the square around Allic's command tent held to their positions. At first the Subata would drop singly, looking for an opening in the hedgehog of spears. Sharpened blades would lash up at them. More than one man would hook into a wing and then be borne aloft as the snake soared to escape. Mark watched in horror as a man refused to release his embedded spears.

The warrior was lifted up out of the formation. In an instant several snakes closed in, their joyful shrieks filling the air, the largest of them snatching the man whole with its gaping jaws. The two halves of the spearman's body fell back to the ground, spraying blood.

A score of Subata swooped in low, heading straight at Allic's square. Several of the beasts slammed into the shield wall, cracking it like a egg. Allic charged forward to meet them, Storm and Mark by his side, sending blast after blast into the press of beasts, some of which now folded in their wings and slithered across the ground.

A snake reared in front of Mark, its head as large as a horse, its basilisk eyes gazing at him with the look of death. Mark fired; the snake recoiled.

Suddenly its mouth opened and out sprayed a milky foam. Horrified, Mark watched as a spearman next to him caught the spray full in the face. Shrieking, the spearman fell clutching at his eyes―while a dark cloud that stank of burning flesh coiled up around him.

Mark aimed another blast, slicing off the snake's head. Still spraying its poison foam, the Subata fell backwards, headless body twisting.

All about him was madness. More snakes pushed in, trying to break the square, while overhead others hovered, pounced, withdrew, sprayed poison on their foes, and then positioned to pounce again. More men were dragged aloft, to be torn apart in an insane frenzy of feeding, their blood and shattered bodies raining down on those below.

"Saito's square!" someone screamed.

Through the wild press of battle Mark could see the square to his left going down, crushed by a hundred or more snakes. The wall crystal fired and fired, but it was not enough. Suddenly in mid shot the crystal spun around, the flame slicing straight into the ranks, cutting down a score of men. The square disappeared beneath a writhing wall of movement as hundreds of Subata moved in for the kill.

"Banzai!"

Startled, Mark turned to see Ikawa rising into the air, his defensive shield off.

The Japanese's eyes were wide with a wild frenzy.

"Jesus, Ikawa!" Mark screamed. "Grab him, grab him."

Several Subata immediately swung toward the sorcerer.

A flash snapped from Ikawa's hand, smashing his first attacker in the forehead. The snake crumpled, impaling itself on upraised spears.

Another snake came up behind Ikawa, who rolled in mid flight and struck it down with another single blast.

But the third closed in for the kill.

"No!" Mark soared upward, firing blast after blast. Behind him there was a wild shout: "Banzai! Banzai!"

Transfixed, Mark saw the battle frenzy take hold of the Japanese warriors.

As one they rose, rushing to the aid of their commander. Half a dozen bolts slashed the serpent even as his jaws closed around Ikawa. The beast fell away, hissing.

"Banzai!" The Japanese followed their leader, who cut through the serpents, driving forward to the next square which was disappearing under the attack. The Japanese cut through the press, slaying any that dared to oppose them.

All rational thought gone, Mark followed in their wake, desperate to cover their advance, firebolts all around him. His men were following, flying by instinct in tight formation.

For a brief flash Mark saw Storm in the middle of the melee. But this was another Storm, a woman more like the elemental fury he had first met in the sky. Darkness was gathering about her, a swirling cloud of power, flashing fire, and driving wind.

They were over Saito's square. Most of the footmen were down, the snakes giving themselves over to a frenzy of feasting. But in the center there was still a knot of defenders.

The Japanese swept in, firing repeatedly. So tight was the press that men and snakes died together in the fire from above, as the attackers cut through to their beleaguered friends.

"Banzai!"

From out of the few survivors, four Japanese, led by Saito, lifted into the sky as the square beneath them disappeared and was consumed.

Now the warriors pressed upwards, the Japanese in the center, the Americans flying a tight circular formation around them. Now they were more than a score, each protecting the other, screaming their defiance. The snakes gave back from this challenge and swarmed to other less risky targets.

With the instinct of a flyer, Mark pushed upward, knowing that safety could only be found by being above your opponents. The sky beneath them was covered in an undulating darkness of beating wings.

Leveling off at a thousand feet, they swung into a wide arching turn, firing continuously on the combatants below. Mark realized they might be hitting their own men as well, but it was the only hope they had for breaking the attack.

"We got some bandits coming up at nine o'clock," Walker shouted. "Fifty plus!"

Mark looked off to his left and saw sorcerers and demons sailing out of the enemy camp. Beneath them the Torm infantry was slowly advancing, hesitating to come near the Subata.

Mark saw one of Pina's assistants in the formation with them, and he swung to Mark's side.

"This is why Allic wanted us on the ground," the assistant shouted accusingly. "There we can help defend! Up here we have to fight the snakes and Macha's sorcerers!"

"Can anyone control those bastards down there?" Mark shouted.

"Once their first blood lust is sated, the drumroll will stop. They've been trained to snatch whatever dead they want and withdraw."

"As they retreat, Macha's army will close and hit what's left."

Two of the formations below had been swarmed under; the others were just barely holding on. If the Subata could break another couple of squares there'd be a hole in the line so big that Macha's men could march through before Allic would be able to redeploy his men.

"Those Torm sorcerers are closing in fast," Walker warned.

Even as he shouted, the first bolts snapped through their formation.

"Shit!"

They could fight up here and perhaps hold their own, but they were needed at the battle below.

A shadow passed over the group, and with a strangled cry of fear they looked up, wondering how yet another formation of snakes could have gotten above them.

But this was no formation. It was a swirling cloud of night that flashed with light.

A bone-chilling wind lashed them. Bolts of lightning shot from the cloud into the snakes below.

"Goddamn!" Mark shouted. "It's Storm!"

His men looked at him in confusion.

The wind slashed past them and hit the Subata. Hissing and shrieking they were driven back from their feast.

The Subata could soar on rising drafts and float on the gentle morning wind but they did not have the power to battle a storm-driven gale. Within seconds the attack started to break apart. A wild shout came up from the beleaguered troops below.

Mark looked heavenward but his heart was full of fear. He knew the strength of his lover. She could take the power of nature and play with it as she willed. It was another thing altogether to conjure a storm out of stillness. She was pressing herself to the limit.

"Ikawa!"

Mark whirled around. "Damn him!"

Mark felt totally useless. His command control was disintegrating under the pressure of trying to decide where to engage in the battle. Now Ikawa had broken out of the formation, still wild with battle frenzy, and was diving straight at the Torm sorcerers, the rest of the Japanese following in a ragged line.

"Follow them!" Mark screamed.

His men winged up and over, one after the other dropping, pulling a perfect formation dive. Within seconds they were alongside the Japanese. Mark tried to signal them to close, but Ikawa and most of his command were beyond caring or comprehension. They were fey, convinced of defeat, and as if touched by the fatalistic spirit of their samurai forebears, they now sought death with the hope of taking as many of their foes with them as possible.

The charge bore down on Macha's sorcerers. Bolts of fire slashed the air. The Torm sorcerers broke with the onset of the attack, again following their old instinct to pair off against opponents and fight one-to-one. But the offworlders were presenting them with warfare of a different sort, as the Japanese in their madness still retained some memory of what Ikawa and Mark had taught them. Within seconds three of Macha's sorcerers were injured and out of the fight. And then a power stronger than any of them overwhelmed the field.

The sky grew black as night, flickering with fire. Wind borne, Ikawa drove forward, wreathed with incandescent flame, Mark and the others following in his wake.

Their formation sliced through the enemy sorcerers who scattered in every direction, both sides now firing ineffectively as all were buffeted by the wind. Within seconds the attacking force was over the Torm lines, which had stopped in their advance.

A blast of flame, the combined power of several wall crystals, came up from the center of the Torm lines. The flame seemed to merge directly on one of the Japanese privates flying a dozen feet ahead of Mark.

There was a flash. Horrified, Mark flew through an inky ball of smoke that stank of burning flesh. Private Matsumoto was gone.

"Evasive!" Mark screamed. "Break right!"

Another flame shot up, cutting where the formation would have been in another second if it had flown straight.

"Evasive, break left!" Mark screamed.

They cut another tight turn, firing back now, hoping to disrupt the enemy below. Damn, they could just stay up here drawing shot after shot, Mark realized, but every time they tried to cut in towards the center of the enemy position, the heavy fire drove them back.

They'd have to do something damn fast. The Subata attack had been broken, the winged snakes were retreating, some of them already beyond the rear of the Torm lines. But the ground forces were still intact. Even as the desperate struggle was waged overhead, the enemy surged into the attack. The change in fortunes had only been temporary. Within minutes Allic's forces would be overwhelmed as the enemy broke into its charge.

"Keep them busy," Macha shouted, pointing to where the offworlders weaved back and forth, dodging the powerful counterblasts of his heavy wall crystals.

* * * *

It was still almost going to plan―except for that damned storm.

Then he realized: Allic's sister Storm had come into the fight.

Shouting with rage, Macha strode over to a heavy crystal, pushing the lesser sorcerers aside.

"My lord," Orma his battle advisor said, coming to stand by him, "we can handle them. You're needed to concentrate on command, to project the aura of strength which heartens our men against Allic's will."

"It's Allic's sister up there." He pointed at the rolling darkness that was now directly overhead.

"Another demigod," Orma cried, his voice edged with fear.

"So am I!" Macha roared. "A match for any of Jartan's damnable spawn."

A blast of fire arced from the heavens, striking an advancing company of spearmen, hitting their standard with an explosive roar. Dozens of men fell, the column reeling from the impact.

A blast, and then another blast snapped out, cutting the center of the advancing line.

The sorcerers around Macha drew back in fear. Their lord seemed wrapped in darkness as he called to the very source of his Essence, drawing in his power, forcing it to do his bidding.

His armies hesitated, sensing that they had lost the protection of their lord's guiding will.

A bolt of fire as brilliant as the sun shot from the crystal in Macha's hands.

At the same instant a flame of equal brilliance cut down from the heavens. The two met, blinding all who had looked. For a moment it seemed as though the two fires had merged into one, and then they shot past, each to its separate goal. The battle wavered, stopped, as tens of thousands stood transfixed.

Stunned, Ikawa still continued with his dive, the men behind him scattered by the shock wave from the twin blasts. He pulled up, skimming low over the Torm battle lines. Off to his left he saw a column of fire rising where the bolt from above had struck.