League officers screamed orders as they ran to the line, and the crabs unleashed flurries of bolts into the Keldons. Men fell as blood and gore exploded from projectile wounds, but the hollow warriors soaked up the fire without wavering. A few of the false men dropped, but even the heaviest League blow couldn't crack the line. More and more swords flowed from the barges, and the Keldons started to advance. League machines attacked as individuals, but mixtures of manikins and warriors acted as unified squads. Manikins threw themselves onto war machines while axes severed mechanical limbs.
The infantry lagged behind its steel allies, hesitant to add merely human strength to the destruction the war machines inflicted. Now the League constructions were falling. Chanting madmen swung bloody swords. Here and there near-giants inspired twisting maelstroms of slaughter. Some Keldons were in heavy armor, steel enclosures on the shoulders and chest holding burning coals and brands. Waves of smoke poured over the League lines. Soldiers coughed and felt a spreading terror. The war manikins threw themselves on infantry spears and broke the League units into clumps of panicking men. The crabs were consumed, and more and more soldiers abandoned all hope. Many began to run away from the battles, streaming back to camp or into Keldon territory, fleeing the fighting without regard for direction.
A few units held firm. The single section of mantises advanced into the Keldon line, their arms flickering in attacks that yanked warriors into range of their cutting jaws. The infantry with the mantises supported the machines, protecting their flanks, but the rest of the League was melting away. Even the elite soldiers retreated. In the midst of the fighting withdrawal, Barrin could see General Mageta directing men equipped with launchers. The unit fired light rockets into the warriors and manikins. Dozens flew apart in explosions, but the Keldons charged, some jumping over the remains of their comrades. Mageta and other soldiers moved forward with swords and shields while their comrades reloaded.
The Kipamu League cavalry had swung wide and fell on the left wing of the Keldon army. Bolts bled Keldon warriors, and the League riders taunted them out of position, pretending to retreat and then turning on the strung-out warriors chasing them. The horsemen turned to attack again, but now the barges moved to the flanks. Ballista bolts and fireballs left wounded horses screaming in the dirt. Young warriors finished off dismounted cavalrymen.
The Keldons were charging up the slope after the retreating Jamuraan army. Barrin could feel the force of the enemy magic fading. The air-protection units were walking up the slope to provide cover.
"Wing down along the slope," Barrin told the pilot.
"The battle's lost, sir," Yarbo said. "The army has come apart, and you can't put it back together."
"I can't salvage the day, but I can save the army," Barrin growled. "Now do as I say." Reluctantly, the pilot nosed the ornithopter down as he had been ordered.
Barrin had held back, hoping that the League generals knew what they were doing. The reversal had been so sudden that the wizard couldn't hope to turn the battle. But he was damned if he would just fly away with the Keldons utterly victorious. Barrin pulled energy from the land harder than ever, his rage and disgust growing as he came closer and closer to the Keldon forces. Fire streamers began to fly again, and the ornithopter dodged. Barrin compressed his wrath until it beat against his control like a maddened beast, then he released it. A narrow spike of energy burst from the ornithopter. It entered the ground like an awl. Huge amounts of energy flowed through a narrow channel, filling the ground with power.
An explosion erupted deep in the hill, and Barrin was spent as he flew away, his mind barely aware of what was happening. The slope was not deep, and the landslide was more of a slump than a cataclysm, but barges tumbled and buried themselves in the dirt as the ground trembled and lost cohesion. Warriors who feared no man screamed as they were buried alive. Only a small part of the Keldon army was covered, but all pursuit stopped as warriors and slaves desperately dug at the turned soil, hoping to bring living men up from the dirt instead of corpses.
"Take us to where the army is rallying," Barrin whispered to Yarbo. The wizard felt drained, disconnected as the ornithopter climbed away from the battlefield.
Chapter 12
Haddad dreamed. He fell through space. Through the still air he could see the clouds rushing up. Then, a cloud surrounded him, and there was no movement. His hands and feet knocked on wood as he turned. He was in the stasis box! The smoke forced itself down his throat, trying to strangle him. He jumped up and ran. Everything was covered. It was fog, and he ran slower and slower as the chill of it drained the heat from his body. No matter which direction he ran, he was still lost. He began to stumble and trip over uneven ground. Was that water he waded through? The fog was clearing, and now he could see. He was on a battlefield. Torn and mangled bodies stretched toward the horizon, many submerged in bloody pools of stagnant water. They were his comrades he had trained with. He stumbled from corpse to corpse, looking into dead eyes as he tried to find a survivor. Now he found childhood friends, school' mates from years before, neighbors from his youth, and members of his family. He screamed in grief, and his voice swept everything away. He cried alone on an empty plain. Then someone walked toward him. It was Latulla! The artificer stood before him, her arms open wide and a smile on her face. He ran at her, his fists clenched so tightly that blood leaked from them. She showed no fear and waved him on. He struck her, and her arms shattered at the blows. But it was Lord Druik who fell at his feet. The warlord's limbs and face were gone, eaten away by the jelly, so only a torso and head lay writhing. Then Druik was on a table, and Haddad attached new limbs and forced machine parts into the Keldon. Finally, Druik had arms and legs, and Haddad lay weapons at the hands and feet of his creation. Just the head remained to be done, a fleshy skull without eyes. Someone handed him a mask to place over the head. As Haddad screwed the metal to bone, the eyes of the mask opened and stared at him in pain. Haddad awoke.
The former League soldier lay on an actual bed. It was narrow and creaked loudly as he tried to raise his head. He finally managed to sit up. Haddad's mouth seemed full of cotton, and he staggered toward the door. A table with a bucket of water on top diverted his path. He checked to make sure it was not the chamber pot and drank using his hand as a cup. Haddad blinked as he considered the room. Light leaked through a shutter and provided a dim illumination. In a corner his gear lay in a pile, and except for the bed and the table, there was no furniture. A candle sat on the table, and he could see a chamber pot under the bed. For an inn it seemed inadequate, but for a prison it was surprisingly comfortable. Haddad tried the door, but as he expected, it was firmly locked. The window opposite the door was not locked and neither was it barred. Haddad threw the shutters wide and blinked away tears as the light assaulted his eyes. Eventually his vision cleared, and he looked out over a cluster of buildings.
In the distance were bare hills, a low wall of weathered rock hemming in the sky. There were scattered, massive structures of stone and timber. There were no real streets, just beaten paths between buildings and a road that lead off to the hills. The shadows were long and covered the ground under his window. Everything was quiet, and Haddad wondered at the silence. Now he could see warriors and slaves walking between buildings, but the scene seemed nearly deserted. A gust of wind made him shiver, and he grabbed the blanket from the bed as he looked out.