He couldn’t win, but he would damn well take as many of them to the Pit with him as possible.
The canyon echoed with the screams of the dying and the yells of the survivors as the thunder finally subsided in the wake of Taniel’s avalanche.
The sound made Taniel sick. He hadn’t wanted to kill his own countrymen. These men had friends and family. Children and wives and husbands. He might have fought beside some of them. He might have trained beside them.
It was no different from killing any enemy, he reminded himself. This was war. He had to kill or be killed.
Taniel stealthily stuck his head out from his hiding place to examine his handiwork.
The avalanche had cut the Adran company in half. At least ten of them had been buried by the falling rocks and another dozen or so wounded. A captain was pinned to the floor of the canyon by a boulder on his leg, and Taniel could hear his howls of pain. A lieutenant stood above him, directing a simultaneous defense-and-rescue mission. The infantry had scattered to whatever cover they could find, and now everyone had their eyes on the canyon’s walls.
They began to dig out their wounded, and when it became apparent that an attack was not imminent, two squads continued their journey up the canyon.
This was good news and bad news. The good news was that he’d split their forces. The bad news was that those two squads were heading toward Ka-poel’s cave.
He set off at a run just beneath the ridgeline, where he could be plainly seen by the soldiers below. A shout of alarm followed him a moment later and he heard the soft pop of air rifles. The distance was far too great for them to actually hit him, but he ducked behind a boulder anyway and took a moment to look back.
The lieutenant pointed toward him, shouting after the two squads. The two squad sergeants conferred, and then one squad headed straight up the steep incline toward Taniel while the other set about looking for a goat path or some other way to flank him.
Taniel had their attention now, and that’s what mattered.
He led the two squads on a chase along the ridgeline for over a mile. Of the twenty-four men, only three kept up with his pace, outstripping their comrades in their attempt to catch up. After all, they only had to get close enough for a shot with an air rifle to bring Taniel down. Hilanska must have offered a reward for his head. Soldiers normally weren’t this zealous.
The thought hardened Taniel’s heart against his reluctance to kill more of his countrymen. These men would gun him down without hesitation. They were hunting him like a dog.
He risked a dash across open ground, flinching at the pop of air rifles and the sound of bullets skipping off of the stone behind him. They were still just out of range, but a lucky shot aimed high might wound him. He leapt a fissure and continued on for some thirty paces before the ground gave way to rockier terrain and he leapt back into cover.
Out of sight of the squad, he doubled back, running in a crouch beneath the lip of a boulder until he was inside the fissure that he’d jumped only moments ago.
Taniel wondered what his father would say if he saw any of his own men being led into such an obvious trap.
Probably that the damned fools deserved to die.
The first pursuer leapt the fissure only a few moments after Taniel was in position. As the second set of legs flew overhead, he reached up and grabbed a boot, yanking down. The man dropped his air rifle with a clatter and landed face-first on the lip of the fissure, leaving a smear of blood behind.
The third of the group skidded to a stop and knelt beside his comrade. Taniel made a running leap and grabbed this one by the front of his jacket, dragging him back into the fissure. The soldier let out a strangled scream before Taniel silenced him by slamming his face repeatedly against the rocks. He snatched the air rifle from the dead man’s hands and checked it for damage.
Air rifles were notoriously more unreliable than conventional muskets and rifles. The mechanisms broke easily and the air reserves leaked. This one seemed sound, and Taniel checked the chamber and shouldered the butt.
“Glouster?” The first pursuer had noticed his companion’s absence and turned. “Glouster, are you all right? Allier looks like he’s hurt bad. Pit, Glouster, say something!”
Taniel felt a pang at the panic in the young man’s voice. The fear must be setting in, overrunning his adrenaline. He’d be wondering if his eyes had tricked him. Hadn’t Taniel disappeared into the rocks ahead? How could he possibly be in that dark fissure?
The infantryman came into view, his rifle shouldered, squinting into the fissure.
Taniel shot him in the chest.
He took spare ammunition and air reserves from the dead infantrymen and followed his hidden path back to the rocks. The rest of the squad would catch up any moment, and they wouldn’t be as stupid as their comrades.
He ambushed two more infantrymen in the rocks, and then three more after them, using their bulky kits and unwieldy bayoneted rifles against them in the close confines of the rock formations.
He shot another with his captured air rifle just a few moments later, but the damned mechanism broke before he could fire another round, and he was forced to flee, with the remainder of the two squads hot on his heels.
They stayed in a tight formation now, not letting themselves be led on by his tricks.
Taniel knew he was running out of ground. This ridge went on for a couple of miles before it meandered into one of the thousands of valleys that crisscrossed this mountain range. He needed to be rid of the rest of his pursuers before he doubled back and figured out a way to deal with the remaining infantrymen down in the canyon. There was another fissure along here somewhere that would let him get behind his enemy and…
Taniel swung around a boulder to find himself staring out into the sky. The drop below him must have been more than two hundred feet down a sheer rock face into a barren streambed. He searched about him for another escape route, but there was nothing but bare, vertical rock to be found. A ledge to his right gave way to more such rock and a narrow outcropping that would doubtlessly give them a firing platform.
Somewhere, he’d taken a wrong turn. He was at a dead end.
He looked back around the boulder the way he came. Maybe he had time to get back and find another route before they caught up.
The flash of Adran blues sent him back behind his boulder. He could hear the shouts of his pursuers.
“He went down this path here.”
“Careful on that, no line of sight. He could be hiding anywhere.”
“Cover me from above.”
“All right, you three with me. Try to go around that way, lads.”
Taniel risked a glance to see four soldiers working their way down the goat path he’d followed. They were less than twenty paces away, and would reach him within moments. The other soldiers would find that outcropping sooner or later and he was a dead man.
If this damned air rifle hadn’t broken, he might be able to defend himself at range.
When the first bayonet came within sight around the edge of the boulder, Taniel reached past it to grab the barrel and leveraged his weight against the man holding it. Caught by surprise, the infantryman slid and tumbled several feet and then plummeted the rest of the way down into the gorge, the end of his fall punctuated by the silencing of his scream.
“Bloody pit, he’s right there!”
“Hold it together.”
“He just threw Havin right off the edge! Did you see that? He’s going to…”
Taniel didn’t wait to find out what the infantryman thought he was going to do. He rounded the corner, gripping his broken air rifle like a pike, and shoved the bayonet into the talking man’s chest. The man gave a garbled yell and fell, grabbing the kit of the man behind him as he went and sending them both tumbling over the edge.