Several strides further away was the Sachakan army. It was two-thirds the size of the Kyralian one. To most of the people watching, this would appear to put the advantage firmly on the Kyralian side. But the group of newcomers to the Sachakan army had been making its way, unresisted, through the south of Kyralia, strengthening itself as it came. Who knew how powerful they’d become?
But we have the strength of all these people, she reminded herself. Surely that will be enough.
Lights floated above the two armies, creating two pools of brightness. Two figures moved from the Kyralian side towards the enemy. Tessia recognised them as King Errik and Magician Sabin.
From the opposite side a lone figure stepped forward. She narrowed her eyes, then felt a chill as she recognised Takado. A memory of him leering at her flashed into her mind. Thinking of the harm he had done since that moment, she knew she had been very lucky. Not just to find the magic in herself to push him away, but that he hadn’t been able to risk killing her at that moment.
Oh, but I wish I had killed him, instead of throwing him across the room. I would have hated myself for doing so, not knowing that he planned to invade Kyralia, but it would have saved us so much death and pain.
With the thought came anger and for a moment she imagined herself down there, throwing the final strike at Takado. The one that reduced him to ashes, or shattered all the bones in his body. She shuddered then, repelled by her own imaginings.
How can I think about wounding and killing, when what I most want to do is heal people and save lives? She sighed. I guess I have a bit of the fighter in me after all.
“What do you think they’re saying?” Kendaria asked.
Tessia shrugged. “Pointing out their strengths and the other’s weaknesses? Calling each other names?”
“Swapping threats, I suppose.”
“Yes. That sort of thing. Perhaps inviting the other side to surrender.”
Abruptly a flash of light shot from Takado to King Errik. A moment later the air began to flash and vibrate. A sound like thunder echoed over the hillside, forming a constant rumble as the last boom never quite fell silent before the next. Through the dazzling streaks of light, Tessia saw Errik and Sabin step calmly backwards, rejoining their group. Tessia recognised Dakon among them.
Suddenly her heart was racing with fear. The apprentices hadn’t witnessed the last two battles, instead keeping safely out of the way. She had been full of impatience and frustration at not knowing what was happening. But now she almost lamented that ignorance. Now, if Dakon or Jayan died, she would see it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Jayan! Where is Jayan? She began looking for him.
“The crowd is having second thoughts,” Kendaria observed.
“What? Oh.” Tessia realised that the arc of spectators was retreating hastily, some people tripping over others in their haste to put some distance between themselves and the heat and vibration of magic.
Yet not one strike, stray or deliberate, escaped the battlefield. Were the Kyralians shielding the city? On the other hand, she had not caught any obvious Sachakan attack directed beyond the army.
Destroying commoners and buildings will come later. For now it will be more important to direct all their power towards fighting. It won’t count as a victory if they’ve smashed a few walls but not defeated the army.
“It’s quite spectacular,” Kendaria said quietly. “If it weren’t for the fact that they’re trying to kill each other I’d find it quite pretty.”
Tessia looked at her friend. A flash of light illuminated Kendaria’s face for a moment, showing an expression of awe and sadness.
“Oh... there goes one of the enemy.”
Tessia looked down and searched the enemy line. Sure enough, one Sachakan had fallen. A slave was trying to drag him away. Looking beyond the enemy line, she noticed tiny figures lying in the grass, faces rising now and then to watch the battle.
Their slaves. I wonder if Hanara is among them? Thinking back, she remembered his shy, nervous smile. Did he really betray us, by leaving to tell Takado the village was unprotected? I thought he was happy, or at least relieved to be safe and free. I guess I never really understood him.
“Oh, there goes another, and another,” Kendaria murmured. “Has anyone on our side fallen yet?”
Tessia searched the Kyralian line. “No.” There was something familiar about a figure at the far end of it. Her heart leapt as she recognised him.
Jayan. There he is. Alive.
He stood with a hand pressed to the shoulder of Lord Everran. Lady Avaria also stood in the same group. Other magicians were giving her power, Tessia noted. She wondered which of the couple was striking and which shielding.
Turning to look at the other side again, her eyes were drawn to a slave who had begun to run away from the battle. As Tessia watched, he stumbled and fell onto his front. Then his foot rose and he began to slide back toward the Sachakan line, clawing uselessly at the soil. As he came within reach of his master, the magician grabbed an arm. A blade flashed. A moment of stillness passed. Then the Sachakan turned to face the battle, the slave remaining motionless behind him.
Tessia could not drag her eyes away from that tiny figure. I’ve just seen something talked about in lessons and acted out in mock battles so many times. A Sachakan killing a slave for power. But that means...
“Are we winning?” Kendaria asked, a little breathlessly. She looked at Tessia, “We are, aren’t we? More of them have fallen.”
“It’s hard to tell.”
A Sachakan master only killed a source slave if he was running out of power. If he was desperate. As she watched, the Sachakan who’d killed his slave stepped behind another magician, no longer fighting.
But not all the Sachakans were seeking the protection of their allies. Though over half were now dead or seeking the protection of fellow magicians, the rest were fighting confidently. She forced herself to examine the Kyralian side, and her heart lifted.
None had died. She looked closer. Only one group had sought the protection of another. From the clothing they wore, she recognised them as the Elynes.
Ah! The Elynes wouldn’t have taken magic from the Kyralian people. It would have been too presumptuous of them or the Lans or Vindo to take magic from people not of their own country. And Kyralians might not have volunteered to give magic to foreigners, either. Even foreigners who have come to help us.
She felt a surge of excitement. “It does look promising,” she said.
Kendaria chuckled. “It does, doesn’t it?”
No crops hid Hanara from the sight of the Kyralians, or gave an illusion of protection from the magic that blasted towards him. He ducked every time a strike flashed his way, but each time it was deflected by Takado’s shield.
Only a dozen paces away, a Sachakan magician exploded in flames. Those sheltering behind him scattered hastily to either side. One tripped over slaves groping towards their dead master. He turned and cursed the men, then a thoughtful and calculating look crossed his face. Stepping forward, he grabbed a slave’s arm and drew his knife in one fluid movement. The slave’s wail of protest ended abruptly as the man began to draw power.
The other slaves rose and fled. By the time the magician was finished, they had sought refuge among the slaves holding the horses. The magician scowled and retreated to shelter. Hanara saw that the eyes of the dead slave were open, staring toward his dead master, and shuddered.