On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [144]
But no. That was a coward’s way out. Whatever his flaws, Tahmu knew he was a strong and cunning warrior, and Kevla needed every one of her warriors now if she was to succeed. Her success, the protection of their people, was more important to Tahmu than any false peace he could achieve by bowing his neck to the enemy’s blade.
He parried his foe’s next stroke, calmly eyed the gap in the enemy’s armor, and with powerful arms that were strong and sure he struck.
It was then that the sheets of flame erupted.
Kevla watched as the Arukani battled the flank that charged forward, but her attention was caught by the second flank. They busied themselves digging ditches and pouring barrels of fluid into the channels. One of them touched a torch to the shiny pools and leaped back.
Fire sped along the pool and Kevla realized what they were doing. The warriors in the first wave were a sacrifice, a distraction. Now the army had made what they perceived to be a successful defense against the gathered Arukani—a wall of flame with a heavily guarded break.
They’re protecting themselves from attack until the rest of them get here, Kevla thought. She felt her lips twist in a harsh smile.
“Take me closer,” she called to the Dragon.
“Kevla, I don’t—”
“Take me closer!” she cried, anger flooding her. The Dragon obeyed, tucking his wings and diving down at a staggering speed. Kevla extended her arms out to her sides, her movements fluid and in control. She fastened her eyes on the leaping flames, concentrating on them.
As if they were living things, the sheets of flame dove for their tenders. Men staggered and fell, uselessly beating their bodies in an attempt to douse the fire. Others, seeing what was happening, turned to behold the Great Dragon swooping down. He opened his mouth and breathed a long sheet of flame, further adding to the conflagration.
Kevla heard a strange noise. It was a sharp pinging sound. It took her a moment to realize what it was as an arrow whizzed past her ear. The sound was that of arrows striking the Dragon’s heavily scaled frame.
Suddenly, she felt giddy, indestructible. The fire blazed through her and she had never felt more alive in her life. She began singling out men, taking aim and reaching out to them, the fire forming at her fingertips to rush in a glowing orange ball toward their chests.
Abruptly the Dragon began climbing upward again. The pinging diminished.
“Why did you—” Kevla began, but the Dragon interrupted her.
“Look at the pass,” he cried. She did as he asked. Many more had come over in the time she had spent battling the front line. It was at least double, perhaps triple the numbers. She could see that the Arukani line of defense was falling back; could see fallen bodies in rhias being trampled upon in the melee.
Now.
Rage boiled inside her, and she turned again to face Mount Bari, to summon in her mind’s eye the image of the boiling pits of liquid fire.
Come forth!
She heard the rumbling even from this distance, and knew that those with their feet on the earth could feel it. Perspiration dewed her forehead and she began to breathe raggedly. It was harder to control than she had expected, but she called it, and it came.
Lava erupted from the depths of the earth with a terrible roar. Bright orange flowed down the mountainside.
“Take me down,” she called to the Dragon. “I need to be closer!”
He obliged. She could see the individual rocks in the tide of liquid fire now, darker spots being swept along in the glowing yellow-orange flow. With a flick of her fingers, she summoned more lava. It spilled over another side of Mount Bari, this flow streaming over the pass. Anyone who had not yet crossed into Arukani lands now was completely cut off. A good quarter of the army would now never make it down the mountain.
The first stream twisted and snaked downward. It chased the men, who screamed and ran before it, into the waiting arms of the Arukani clans. Those who were not swift enough were engulfed in its lethal wave. Men, horses, wagons, casks of oil that exploded