Thunder of War

The armies of Meru moved with the night, traveling ancient paths beside the swollen river in full flood. The sky was clear and the stars were bright as glass, lighting the way through the scrubland. Trees grew in the risen waters, their roots arching up from the mud like the legs of crouching animals, their trunks twisted and hardened by the long dry season even as their leaves uncurled like hands.

Utuzan rode at the heart of his army, shrouded and hooded even against the light of the stars. His power caused a pillar of fire to go before them, lighting the way for man and beast alike. The Heart of Anatu glowed in his hand, pulsing with the power he had embraced when he was only a boy. It led him and followed him and whispered to him, so that he knew the power of his goddess was with him.

Close around him rode the nomads of the desert, those who had become his followers. More and more had come in from the waste lands, willing to pledge their swords and their blood to the Black Flame. They had ancestral tales of the lands of the old empire, and they remembered in their legends the time when the Sea of Xis had made the desert a paradise. They believed they were the descendents of the people of Kithara, and they might indeed be – Utuzan himself did not know.

What mattered now was they believed in him, and in the future of conquest and power he promised. Thirty thousand of them rode beneath his banner, and their arrows and spears would carve a path through these lands. He knew what kind of weapon they were, for even in his day there had been those who lived on the edges of the empire. Men who spurned to plant or reap, who lived only by pillage and war. They were a sword in his hand to strike at those who stood before him.

Ahead and behind marched the armies of Meru, with more gathered in to make up those lost in battle. Forty thousand men, both mercenary and levy, around the core of horsemen. The sellswords were hard men, and he knew they would serve so long as his gold and silver flowed. The rest were of uncertain quality, but he would not ask too much of them.

As they moved into Ashemi lands, he built their will to fight by allowing them to plunder as they liked. Farms were spread out on the plains beside the river, the fields inundated but the villages safe on high ground, and the people fled before them, leaving all they owned to be taken.

Utuzan kept Shedjia beside him now, teaching her the secrets of the powers of the dark, now she was an initiate. They spoke the poisoned language of the ancients, and so they knew no man could eavesdrop. She rode silently as he read the stars. The future there was tangled, and so he knew battle was coming soon.

“What do you see?” she asked him, and he smiled behind his cowl.

“The stars call out for the death of kingdoms,” he said. “Look there.” He pointed, and she watched as a falling star blazed across a sign of the secret zodiac. “The star cuts the heart of the warrior, and the shield is broken. A great nation will fall.” He looked to the river where his champion swam in the deeps, scaled and stoked high with wrath. “All shall topple, down to the last stone.”

o0o

At the burning touch of sun the gates of the city opened, and the armies of High Ashem marched forth, rank on rank of warriors with gleaming shields and helms that blazed like gold. Spears stood in ranks and waved like grasses in the wind as the men marched upon the stone road. They carried the white banners of their kingdom, and drums and horns called the cadence.

Behind them came an honor guard of charioteers, plumed helmets bright, horses stepping high as they passed beneath the high portal of the gate. And then came the thing the people gathered in the streets and on rooftops to see, though they did not cheer or cast down flowers. They only watched as a great platform made its way through the streets, carried on the backs of a hundred slaves. On the gilded pedestal stood a shape like a man, but as though he were hewn from rock. He wore a skirt and arm-rings and a crown as a king, but his skin was black and gleaming, polished like mountain glass. It was Nokh, who had been a general, but now named himself king.

The people shuddered when they looked on him, for the story was already told that he had been made into something more than human, and that his iron body was proof against dagger and sword. He had torn the king and those lords who stood against him into pieces with his hands, and so now he named himself king and none could gainsay it.

It was said he went to war to protect them. That a dark sorcerer had come from the desert and conquered Meru. That an army was coming for them to destroy the kingdom. None knew the truth, or was sure. All they could do was watch as the armies of Ashem went to war led by a thing that was neither man nor god. Fifty thousand soldiers and thirty thousand chariots trod the hard white road to the south, and the dust that rose in their wake climbed upward and obscured the sun.

o0o

Beside a bend in the Nahar was a tall white hill of sun-bittered chalk, and the road passed over the shoulder of it, leading away from the water and rising to the highest point for days in any direction. The distances were hazy with the late summer heat, and the faraway hills seemed to float upon the shimmering air. A cloud of white birds lifted from the edge of the river and flew westward, away from the morning.

A rider crested the hillside and looked northward, the air wavering like beaten brass, and he saw there another rider looking south toward him. He raised his spear in a salute, and the other man answered. They sat in their saddles for a moment, regarding one another, and then each of them turned and rode back toward their armies, bearing word of what they had seen. The kingdoms would clash beneath the white hill, and blood would pour into the floodwaters before the sun died.

As the sun climbed higher, the great hosts moved into position, dust rising from beneath the tread of hoof and sandal. Desert riders ranged ahead, seeking out the easy paths across the jagged stone of the battlefield. They watched as the army of Ashem drew closer, chariots spreading out side to side, the sun gleaming on the hosts of burnished shields.

Utuzan looked on the place and nodded. It would serve well enough. With the steep slopes of the hill to one side and the muddy waters of the floodland on the other, there would be no place for maneuver or feint or gambit. Here the forces could only come against one another strength to strength. It seemed that the forces of Ashem outnumbered him, but he had strength they could not see or account. Here he would break the army of this sad, divided kingdom and begin a new age of gold for the people who dwelled, unknowing, in the dark.

Izil rode to his side, his armor bright and his war-crested helm making him tall in the saddle. “They have many chariots,” he said. “They cannot charge across this stony ground, but they will come to meet us when we attack. They will cut through our lines, and the horses will die in multitudes.” A nomad to his heart, Izil mourned horses more than men.

“Do not fear, I shall make a path for you,” Utuzan said. The sun was welcome this day, and for once he did not wish to seek the shadows. He would rule this land by day as well as by night. “Go to your men and be ready, for when I crack the enemy line, you must strike like the wedge that splits stone.”

“It shall be done,” Izil said and bowed. He turned and spurred back to the mass of his men, legions of horsemen moving like a tide over the pale earth. White dust rose above them like a ghost in the sun.

Shedjia watched him go. “There is a man who will follow so long as there is victory.”

Utuzan shook his head. “He cares more for his people than himself, or for victory. So long as they are made strong, he will never fail.” He looked to the dark stain that spread in the north, the enemy moving into formations, gathering strength. Now was the breathless hour before battle, when all men could see it coming – could feel it – but no force on earth could stop it. The earth shook beneath the tread of a hundred thousand men, a hundred thousand horses and more. “You saw who leads them,” he said.

Shedjia shook her head. “They march again beneath the banner of General Nokh, but I did not see him. They raised the war standards before a great tent with a black idol before it. It was not the image of a god I know.”

Utuzan narrowed his eyes. He sensed something amiss, something strange in this host that came to meet him. The defeat of the great general should have put a greater fear upon High Ashem. He had expected to strike at their city, to drive back the waters so his men could cross the river and assault their island stronghold. Instead they were here, half a moon early, ready and gathered to fight. Something was at work here he did not see.

The chariots moved into a vast, moving host, the fronts burnished and shining, the shields of the charioteers bright as gold. The horses surged forward, plumes brilliant in the sun. He watched them, and he held out his hand, the Heart of Anatu pulsing dimly in his grasp. “Touch it,” he said.

Hesitant, unsure, Shedjia put her hand on the sacred stone, and she gasped at the contact. He knew what she experienced, and he remembered the first time he had lifted the jewel from the black pit where it had been hidden. He remembered how it felt.

“You will watch while I do this,” he said. “You will see how it is accomplished, and begin to learn the secrets that will make you powerful.” He closed his eyes, shutting away the sun, and he he called forth into the dark beyond the sky.

o0o

Nokh stood motionless before the tent, eyes closed, feeling the sun warm him, the heat radiating through his body until it seemed he would glow like iron in the forge. He opened his eyes and lifted his hands to look at them, expecting them to be red with the fire of the sun, but they were black as the sky behind the moon.

He looked south across his army, through the dust and the shimmering heat, and he saw the flicker of the sunlight on thousands of spears as his enemy came forward to meet him. He saw his chariots were drawn into their ranks, ready and gathered, horses trembling to charge, and he looked at the trumpeters and drummers and he gave the sign, and the drums beat forth the command to attack, and the horns blew the call for death. He felt the earth shake beneath him as the force at his command surged into life and rushed forward. Thirty thousand chariots roared across the field of war like the onrushing wave of a flood, and he knew no mortal force could stop them.

He heard thunder, and he looked upward, seeking the voice, seeing only a summer sky so clear and pale that the stars glimmered in the highland air. Something flashed like a glint of sun on steel, and then he saw a shockwave spread across the sky. A ring of fire expanding outward, and again. Something was plunging down from the great dark, and it roared like thunder.

It screamed down in fire, and then it smote full upon the earth and split the front line of his chariots like a stone cast into a pool. A wall of sand washed outward from the impact, scattering men like leaves, sending horses hurtling through the air among the shards of shattered wood and bronze. The stroke of it shook the earth and sent a pillar of fire reaching upward, and even where he stood Nokh felt the heat wash over him. Behind him, his tent began to burn, and men ran for shelter, clawing smoldering clothes from their bodies.

The front of his line was destroyed, and men lay slain in heaps and windrows, horses screaming with their flesh melted away. Smoke billowed upward, and the rest of his army recoiled in terror and sudden shock, unable to understand what had happened to them. Nokh snarled though his iron lips, and then he started forward, his heavy footfalls shaking the earth with their own tremors. Whatever power this was, it could not stop him. This sorcerer might slay ten thousand men, but he could not stop the iron king.

o0o

Shedjia stared at the carnage wrought upon the enemy. She had felt the power of Utuzan’s summoning, felt the answer come out of unimaginable gulfs like the howl of some desolate thing from the world’s making, and then had come the thunder, and the fire. She looked at where the center of the chariot formation had been, and now there was only a great crater upon the earth, and even as she looked on it, something moved in the flames.

She felt a wonder in her like new fear as a shape emerged from the smoke and glowing heat. Taller than any man, it was a thing made all of stone, and every motion caused the blackened skin to crack and release rivulets of molten rock that smoked and dripped to the ground. It stood, the rude shape of a human crafted in melted slag, and it began to stride forward, its footfalls shaking the ground beneath it.

The remaining charioteers saw it and fled, abandoning their horses and drivers and scattering in all directions. It waded in among the chariots and trod them underfoot, smashing wood and bronze under its weight, crushing horses with its crude hands, burning everything it drew close to with the heat that blazed from it. It scourged the very ground with its passing, leaving a trail of fire and blackened stone.

Archers loosed, and then the nomads charged into the flank, crashing against the scattering chariots and scything through to reach the footmen. Flights of arrows cut down men by their hundreds, and then the riders were upon the spearmen, hacking with sword and axe, howling their war-cries to the blind sky as their enemy crumpled before the assault.

Shedjia watched the glowing titan from the sky crush through the enemy ranks, battering down anything in its path, leaving the trail of smoking death behind it. Beyond it, the enemy camp was already burning, heat shimmering the air. Through the haze she saw something moving, and then it stood plain as it came closer to the burning giant. It was a shadow of a man, glinting like an idol made of stone, and yet it walked.

o0o

Nokh strode to meet the thing as it smashed through his disintegrating army. It stood taller than he, shaped like the melted, blackened mockery of a human form. He felt the shudder of the ground beneath him as it came closer and closer. It had no face, and so he could not know if it saw him, if it came to meet him. He did not care, he would break it, and that would be the end. He charged forward, feet sinking into the soil with every step, and then they met with a sound like towers breaking.

Nokh hammered his fists upon the thing and the blackened armor of it broke apart and let the molten core gush forth like blood. It poured over his hands and he felt no pain, only the heat like a blessing. It smashed a fist down on him, but its hand broke against him and he was unmoved, glowing hot stone pouring over his skin.

He hit it again, and again, caught one heavy leg and ripped it away, sent the titan toppling down to smash upon the earth. Glowing, white-hot blood poured out in a torrent, and Nokh saw the thing try to rise and gather itself, but then it sagged back and collapsed, spreading forth into a great, bubbling pool.

He waded out of the fire, his hands and feet beginning to glow red, feeling the heat like an eagerness in his arms. A line of horsemen came rushing out of the dust and smoke, bloodied spears jutting forth like teeth. They rode into him, and he felt the bronze points splinter against his iron body. Horses dashed against him and their legs snapped, hurling riders to the ground. Nokh lifted his glowing hands and began to strike at anything that came within his reach, killing and burning whatever he touched.

Armor broke under his hands, bones and flesh tore apart and blood hissed as it struck his hot iron skin. The smell of it was sweet, as was the feel of flesh tearing under his fists as though it were parchment, the feel of bones breaking like dry branches. He roared his ringing war-cry, and he killed all who stood before him.

o0o

Utuzan saw the wedge driven into his riders, and he saw, with his ancient eyes, the towering, implacable form killing a path through his army. He saw the gleam of burnished iron and he knew this was no man, this was something empowered by sorcery. It had shattered his sky-called giant, and now it was coming for him, and no mortal weapon would stay it. That was no matter, because he did not rely on mortal powers.

He lifted the Heart, and he called forth another invocation, summoning up powers from deep beneath the ground. He felt the silted soil of the riverland, the rocks embedded deep down, and then the black, lightless gulfs below where unseen, unnamed things dwelled in crystalline caverns that had never felt the sun. At his call they rose, clawing their way through the earth below, and the ground beneath his feet trembled.

There was a moan so deep it made men stagger, clutching their heads as their teeth shuddered, and then the earth underfoot shook and leaped as though it were a sleeping beast. There was a hideous ripping sound like rent bone, and then a crack opened in the white earth between Utuzan and his iron enemy. It was no more than a shadow, but then it spread, and tore across the ground, making a chasm black as midnights that widened with each moment.

The rift slashed across the earth until it met the floodwaters of the Nahar, and then the waters boiled and seethed as they poured into the new deeps. Utuzan’s horse cried out and backed away as a new branch of the river was created, waters rushing in and splashing upward like a wall.

The tremors in the earth terrorized the horses, and the nomad riders scattered as their steeds panicked. Archers stumbled and spearmen reeled as the ground beneath them shifted and convulsed. Only one iron shape did not lose footing, and Utuzan saw him coming onward with his steady, inexorable tread. The thing with the face of General Nokh came striding through the knee-deep water that flooded across the parched clay. Utuzan drew his black sword and held it high in the air, and he called out a name.

o0o

Nokh reached the edge of the chasm and looked on his enemy. It could be no other, the man swathed in black robes bearing a sword that bled shadow into the air. Nokh looked on him and marked him, and he gathered himself to leap across this rift and join in battle with the one who had become his rival. The waters rushed and churned in the crack upon the earth, and then they erupted and something came for him with gleaming teeth.

He had a moment to see it was the scaled giant who had nearly slain him and left him a broken man, and then the great brazen hammer smote against his chest and rang like a bell, driving him back. The water demon surged forth, tail lashing, eyes like copper curses as it emerged from the deep. Even as he gathered himself up again it struck him a second blow, ringing it down on his head, sending vibrations through his iron body that blurred his vision.

The water monster raised his weapon for another blow, but now Nokh was on his feet, and he caught the haft and snapped it with the strength of his hand. He had faced this creature before when he was only flesh, he could face it again now.

They rushed together, and the sound of their collision echoed like thunder. Nokh wrenched at the beast, finding its scales nearly as hard as his iron skin. It slashed at him with fangs and claws, but it could make no mark on him, and he laughed his inhuman laugh. He caught it around the bull-like throat and dragged it down, trying to twist its head around, but it was too strong. He pried at the jaws with his fingers, trying to pull them open, but it shook him off.

They battled as water rushed about their legs, hammering blows upon each other. Nokh slammed his fist into the armored side, and he felt bones give within and the beast howled in fury and pain. It lashed him with its tail and knocked him down, but he dragged himself back up, knowing he could win. Its scales might be hard as his iron flesh, but the body beneath was still meat and bone.

They came together again, and he hammered blows into the hulking body, feeling the flesh give and buckle, and the beast wailed in pain. He tried to reach inside the mouth and strike it where it was weak, as he had before, but this time it was ready for him. Those terrible jaws closed on his arm and dragged him down into the water. For a moment he was not certain what was happening, and then he felt the earth vanish under him, and he knew the thing was pulling him over the edge and into the chasm. He felt the weight of his iron body, and he had a moment of fear, and then he was plunging down, down into the blackness, unable to stop himself as he sank ever deeper into the earth.

o0o

Utuzan waited, sword in hand, ready, and then the waters heaved and Kardan dragged himself from the deep. Blood dripped from his jaws and he moved with pain, and he knew the beast was injured, but he also knew he had done his work. Plunged into the abyss, the man of iron would have to claw back to the light, and he would not make it easy for him.

He turned to Shedjia. “Go with Kardan and see to his wounds. He will let you help him more readily.”

She bowed her head. “Yes, my master.”

Utuzan looked at the breach he had riven in the earth. Somewhere far below, the iron man who had been Nokh still struggled to rise. Eventually he might return, but not today. Utuzan lifted the Heart and called upon the creatures of the dark again. The earth shuddered beneath him, and then the rift slammed shut, sending water geysering up into the sky, pouring out to drench the soil and run in a flood back to the river itself.

The battlefield was strewn with the dead and wounded, riderless horses and shattered chariots as far as could be seen. The Ashemi forces had broken, and fled, but his own men were gathering, putting themselves back into order, ready for the command to march on the city, and the island of the gods. Utuzan held up his black sword, and shadows drew over the pallid sun.