Crossing Over - Anna Kendall [69]
Lord Solek was there too, at the forefront of his own savages. Neither he nor they wore any more body armor than before, although they carried shields. The butt end of each man’s gun rested lightly on the ground. To the left of the small army, I was surprised to see, stood the musicians from yesterday, including the boy with twigs braided into his hair and two other young singers. As the sun streaked the sky with red that matched the paint on his face, he began to sing, and the musicians to play.
The weird instruments wailed away. The boys’ powerful voices floated up on the dawn air. The savages chanted, marching forward in ragged lines, their guns held loosely in their hands. Across the plain, the drum changed rhythm—BOOM BOOM BOOM—and the Blues also marched forward.
The queen put both hands on the stone of the parapet, leaned forward, and said something under her breath. A prayer? A curse? A threat?
The two armies marched toward each other.
When they were barely within bow range, the Blue archers fitted their arrows and let fly. A few struck savage soldiers, who went down. Lord Robert rose in his stirrups and waved his sword. I could not see Lord Solek marching at the forefront of his men, but all at once a huge noise came, such a noise as had never rung on that plain. Crack crack crack . . . the savages were making explosions with their guns.
Fire leapt from the end of each metal stick. Many rang on the Blues’ shields, hard enough to knock them down. As they scrambled back to their feet, a second wave of savages flowed to the front of the line and fired. I heard men screaming. Most did not get up. Smoke rose from the guns, forming a pall over the battlefield.
Now the savages broke ranks. A third wave parted, flowed to each side, and fired on the archers. The first wave of men had been doing something to their guns. Now they ran to the fore and fired again while the second group stood behind them and also did something to their weapons. Many of the archers went down. Many of the savages dropped to one knee as they fired. And all the while, the shouting and yelling came from them, not all at once but from whoever was not firing guns, and the horrible music played beneath the island walls, and the savage boys sang as if to fill the world with harsh syllables.
The Blues broke. Whether it was by order or from fear, those left standing turned and ran. Their drums ceased. The savages pursued them—the big men were so fast!—and caught many. Knives flashed in the sun. Screams echoed across the plain, and the ground ran red.
I turned away. I, who could see, talk with, touch the Dead, was sickened by all this dying. I knew pain and fear, and I could easily imagine myself one of those on the battlefield.
The queen leaned farther over the parapet and watched it all, a tiny smile at the corners of her red lips.
The battle was quick. No, the battle went on forever. Time itself was maimed and twisted, and still I could neither look closely nor stay turned away. When the fighting was finally over, with some Blues escaped but more lying dead upon the ground, the savages marched back to the palace. They carried their own dead—so many fewer than the Blues!—at their rear. Lord Solek marched in front, chanting. Way off to the side, Lord Robert marched with his Greens in pursuit of the fleeing Blues. On the battlefield, the bodies lay like abandoned dolls.
Finally—finally!—the boys stopped singing, the absence of their hoarse voices stilling the musicians as well. But nothing could silence the chanting soldiers.
“Come,” the queen said, standing very tall. “My lords, come. To the throne room, to greet our victors.”
She had not named me, but I knew better than not to follow her. Still, I lingered as long as I could on the tower roof. The Blues were defeated. The great northern gate was already being raised to admit Solek’s army. And in the distance, on the plain, the first of the villagers were running from their hiding