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Fire Rider
Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Battle of Tallarin

Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Battle of Tallarin

In the moments that followed the chime of the bell, there was eerie silence. Then pandemonium.

The noise of scared, innocent people searching for safety was deafening, and no number of Riders and Lavorians would be enough to bring order.

“What do we do?” Oracus shouted over the screams.

“There’s no time to assist these people now,” Kivali replied. “They know what to do when the bell rings. We must prepare ourselves for battle.”

“My armour is in my room,” Oracus said. “And so is my sword.”

“Then don your armour and retrieve your sword,” Kivali ordered. “I’ll see you at the wall.”

Oracus wasted no time. In minutes, he was bundling through the door to his quarters with Bandor close behind him. Inside, he quickly acquired his armour, which was as blue as the sky – except today the sky outside his window was full of dark clouds; it seemed even the weather felt Tallarin’s misery. When Oracus’s sword and dagger were sheathed at his belt, and his quiver, bow and shield were hanging over his shoulders, he left the palace and headed through the streets towards the wall. The rain began to fall on Tallarin, and the smell of waste rose from the sewers like never before.

It took Oracus a long time to reach the wall. The streets of Tallarin were unrecognisable under the shadow of war. He had to push through frightened families who were running for the shelter of the palace, and past soldiers who didn’t know whether to help the innocents or assemble for battle. At the wall, thousands of soldiers looked exactly as Oracus did. Blue armour beneath a grey sky and a black wall. They stood side by side, rows and rows of them, and more joined the ranks as time went on.

Kivali and Onca were at the very base of the wall facing the troops. They stood with Wilos and Dyma and their two Lavorians, inspiring the fighters with their presence. Wilos’s Lavorian was called Edinuc, a Rhino the size of Onca. Huadlan was an Orangutan, the smallest Lavorian Oracus had met, and his arms wrapped around Dyma’s neck like a scarf.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” he said as he strode towards them.

There was a rumble of noise that sounded like thunder.

“I can hear Jowra’s forces marching across the sand,” Kivali noted. “They’re almost here.”

“Are we ready?” Oracus asked.

“Shio is organising the archers on the wall. He’s in that tower.” Kivali pointed to the watchtower that stood on the top of the wall. “I doubt it will be long before we fire on them.”

“Can I go up there?”

“Be my guest,” Kivali returned. “But you won’t like what you see.”

Alone, Oracus climbed the stairs inside the wall. It took him almost ten minutes to ascend the wall, and another five to reach the top of the watchtower. There, Shio stood with a handful of his finest archers, and all along the battlements below them were hundreds more.

Oracus unhooked his bow from his shoulder and offered Shio a light nod. “I guess this is what you trained us for,” he said.

“Yet I always hoped the day would never come,” Shio replied. “It’s quite an army he’s sent.”

Oracus looked beyond the balustrade at the world beneath, and gasped. Left and right there were slopes leading to mountains, but in front there was nothing but sand. On the sand, a force marched forwards in a spectacular formation that was almost as intimidating as its size.

A wall the height of Tallarin’s seemed not to daunt an army with Mammat at the fore. The Elephant matched the wall for immensity, and it was only because Oracus stood atop the watchtower that he could look down upon the beast. On Mammat’s head stood Zarad, just far enough away that Oracus couldn’t see the paint on his face. And far beneath them, Gravaz and Lapsin strode forwards with urgency.

“Gravaz is still alive,” Oracus said to Bandor. “The fireball in Fervia didn’t kill him.”

Behind the two Lavorians and their Riders, a vast army of red-armoured fighters proceeded in their thousands through a downpour that suddenly came from the heavens.

Huge pools collected on the battleground to Tallarin’s front as the rain persisted. The Humans and Grevlors splashed through the water as they approached the wall, while the powerful Lisors dragged Jowra’s catapults into range. Amongst the creatures Oracus knew of, there were others that he didn’t. Faceless, hooded men glided alongside their comrades with sweeping red cloaks and a long wooden staff held in their pale hands.

“What are those things?” Oracus asked fearfully, pointing out the hooded men to Shio.

“They’re Eeveks,” Shio told him. “Silent mercenaries bred by Jowra solely to fight in this war.”

The army that confronted Tallarin came to a halt. They were so close now that Mammat could probably have reached out and touched the wall with his trunk. The arrival of the soldiers was announced with a thousand evil battlecries, and then a repetitive, resounding thump of weapons on shields.

Shio stepped away from the balustrade that looked over Jowra’s army and moved to that which overlooked his own troops. He was an ageing man, but he carried himself with such conviction that Oracus was sure he lived for war. Oracus stood beside him and looked down into Tallarin, where everyone squinted up at them through the rain, the terror expressed in their faces. Although the streets were full of men, their army was barely half of Jowra’s, and many of the men were not true fighters.

Shio cleared his throat, and then addressed his army with a voice that echoed off the buildings. “Soldiers of Tallarin. The day has come that we must fight for our city, and fight for our land!” he announced. “Jowra has sent an army of thousands, hoping numbers will ensure his victory. It is true there are more of them than us, but every soldier of his is empty! We fight for our families, for our children, and for our homes, but they fight because they are scared. Scared of a King who dares not to face us himself.” There was silence on the ground beneath the watchtower. “Let us show them the size of our hearts, and let us help them to endure Jowra no longer. Put them out their misery, men, and let us bring prosperity back to Pharia!”

The roar that followed was spine-tingling. Every man on the ground beat their shield with the hilt of their weapon.

“Archers, ready your arrows!” Shio ordered.

The sound of hundreds of arrows being nocked to bowstrings broke through the rain. Oracus prepared an arrow of his own and aimed it over the wall.

“Fire!”

A wave of metal arched through the air at Shio’s command. Oracus lost sight of his own arrow as they all came together and dropped into Jowra’s ranks as one, killing hundreds of Grevlors and Humans that were beneath them.

The first strike brought bellows of anger from the enemy, and then a dozen rocks were fired from catapults. The rocks crumbled against Tallarin’s wall without leaving a mark, and the archers all cheered.

“Fire again!” Shio cried.

More arrows fell into the enemy soldiers, and a second batch of rocks did nothing the weaken the wall.

“Keep firing, men!”

Oracus loosed several arrows from his bow along with every other archer who protected the wall. Jowra’s men fell in their hundreds under the onslaught, and Oracus’s heart lifted in his chest. They were going to win, he thought prematurely, and without a single enemy scaling Tallarin’s wall.

Then Mammat’s trunk sounded like a horn, and the enormous Elephant charged.

Oracus panicked in the few seconds that came next. He shouted to Shio that they must get off the watchtower, but there wasn’t enough time for that. When the collision came, it was like being on a boat at sea. The watchtower lurched, and Oracus grabbed for anything that might steady his legs. But the fall was inevitable. The tower leaned as the stone gave way beneath it, and Oracus screamed as he felt the floor give way under his feet. Shio and the archers around Oracus tumbled too, and then they were falling to their death.

“Oracus, your power!” Bandor roared.

In the moment Oracus had to react, he found Kivali’s mind and tapped into her power. He thought about Tallarin’s streets as he fell, and then he disappeared.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying in a puddle a hundred yards from the wall. There was a tremendous crash near to him, and a plume of dust billowed through the city streets. The watchtower had fallen, and the wall had been damaged.

“Are you okay?” Bandor said worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

Oracus pushed himself to his feet. He was dazed, but he wasn’t injured. “I’m fine,” he said. “But what about Shio?”

“The tower collapsed. There’s no way he survived the fall.

Oracus cursed and berated himself for being so foolish. Why hadn’t he grabbed Shio before he teleported?

“I could have saved him, Bandor. I could have got him out of there!”

Oracus staggered back to where the watchtower had fallen. The dust was beginning to settle, but a hole had been opened in the wall.

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“Step back from the rubble!” Kivali was shouting over the heads of the soldiers on the ground. “Focus on the breach. We need to keep their forces from entering the city!”

There was a scraping of stone on the other side of the wall, and the soldiers raised their weapons in preparation for what was coming. Dyma created a shield to block the gap, but when the enemy appeared on the other side, it wasn’t long before they smashed it and came flooding into the city.

The Humans and Grevlors were first to attack, but they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of soldiers that waited for them. Arrows flew at the gap in the wall, some fired by Oracus himself, and many others were brought down by the blades of swords. The few who survived the initial defence were quickly mauled or trampled by Bandor, Onca and Edinuc.

But when the Lisors and Eeveks began to creep into the city, they were much harder for the soldiers to kill. The skin of the Lisors was as tough as any armour, and the Eeveks were agile enough to evade the arrows. When the Lisors and Eeveks came, the other fighters managed to sneak through the gap in the wall, and suddenly the battle had spilled onto the streets.

Oracus shot arrows whenever he could, and he used his sword if the enemy came too close. But the unexpected sights and sounds of battle terrified him, and he tried to keep at a safe distance. If he ever felt he was in too much danger, he would teleport to a spot where fewer soldiers were fighting.

Meanwhile, the other Riders fought bravely in front of their comrades, slaughtering dozens of foes, including the Lisors and Eeveks. If ever they appeared in trouble, they would use their power to save themselves, or their Lavorian would make a timely intervention.

As time went on, more of Jowra’s men found their way into the city. Soon, Oracus was no longer able to retreat, and the streets were too full for him to avoid the enemy. It was a position that made him very uncomfortable, and he spent most of his time hiding behind his shield.

“Oracus, we need you to fight!” Bandor implored. “We need all the help we can get.”

“I can’t bring myself to do it,” Oracus answered feebly. “I’m scared!”

“You’re a better fighter than Wilos and Dyma, and they’re both doing fine. You’ll be alright.”

“I’ll be one mistake away from getting a sword through my heart.”

“You rarely make mistakes when you train with Kivali, and she’s a Rider!” Bandor exclaimed impatiently. “Just pretend you’re training with her… except this time you want to cut her head off.”

“That’s easier for you to say when swords can’t kill you!”

“Just stay near to me and we’ll both be okay. If you focus on the Lisors and Eeveks, I’ll make sure no Grevlors or Humans sneak up behind you.”

Oracus had no choice but to risk his life. If his own Lavorian was calling him out for his cowardice, then he was sure Wilos and Dyma were probably thinking it too. He needed to prove to them he was against Jowra, and he needed to prove to them that being a Vassath Rider didn’t make him an enemy. He started to advance on the fighters around him, and he quickly brought them crashing to the ground with his sword. The Lisors were big and strong, but he was too quick for them. And the Eeveks were fast and nimble, but they could do nothing to defend themselves against a teleporting Rider.

With Oracus’s confidence growing by the second, and with three other Riders dominating Jowra’s assault, the forces of Tallarin were able to contain the hole in the wall. Fewer foes were making it onto the city streets, and fewer friendly troops were dying as a consequence.

“Keep pushing them back!” Kivali commanded.

From beyond the wall, Mammat’s trunk bellowed for a second time, signalling defeat to Jowra’s men, and then his forces began to retreat from the city.

There was cheering from the soldiers of Tallarin as the enemy fled. They lifted their swords above their heads and shouted out victoriously. Some even embraced their comrades. But there were hundreds dead. A majority wore the crimson of Jowra, but many men of blue had died too; some to swords, and others who had been crushed when the watchtower had fallen.

The rain continued to fall on Tallarin, and it washed away the blood that had been sacrificed. The patter of raindrops brought a certain serenity, but the stench of death was one that Oracus would likely never forget. But at least the battle was over, at least they could regroup and be grateful for their lives.

It was then that the screams rang out from the archers who still manned the wall. “They’re not retreating!” one voice cried.

There was a thunderous crash that made the ground tremble. A hundred yards to Oracus’s left, archers were thrown from the parapet atop the wall as cracks appeared on its face. A second crash came, then a third, and suddenly the wall gave way to the weight of the Elephant Lavorian that was breaking through it.

Oracus gasped as the wall fell and another cloud of dust was driven through Tallarin’s streets.

“Breach!” Kivali yelled over the panic around her. “Everyone needs to defend that point!”

When Mammat withdrew from the hole he had created, a deluge of Jowra’s men came through it. The Tallarin forces all moved to secure the wall, but then more soldiers came through the first breach.

“We need to keep this side occupied,” Oracus said to Bandor. “If too many soldiers get through here then our forces will be swamped.”

Bandor was quick to respond, and he swiped his claws at the Humans and Grevlors that clambered into the city. Oracus readied his bow again and fired several arrows that found their mark.

“Oh no, they’re coming!” Bandor said. “Gravaz and Lapsin are here.”

Bandor had barely uttered the words when Lapsin leaped through the gap in the wall with Gravaz saddled to his back. When the Hyena’s paws met the floor, Gravaz jumped from the saddle and confronted Oracus with a twisted smile.

“We meet again,” he growled.

Since Oracus had struck Gravaz with a fireball outside Fervia, his face had healed, but there was significant scarring that showed how much damage had been caused, and he wore a patch over his left eye.

“You taught me a very valuable lesson when last we met,” Gravaz said. “I will not fail again.”

The Ulatori’s flail was in his right hand, and a flame was clasped in his left. He looked taller than he had in Fervia, and the scarring made him even more terrifying.

“We need to get away from here, Oracus,” Bandor warned. “It isn’t safe.”

Gravaz raised the flame above his head and threw it at Oracus. Oracus somehow side-stepped the attack, but a second ball of fire came, and he locked onto Dyma’s power and protected himself with a magical shield. A third fireball was thrown, and cracks appeared in Oracus’s shield, and then the fourth created an explosion that shattered the shield and knocked him backwards.

“Kill the Lavorian!” Gravaz ordered Lapsin.

Oracus kept his focus on Gravaz but he could feel Bandor’s fear increasing. Lapsin was much bigger than him, and far more powerful.

“Jowra wouldn’t like it if you killed me or my Lavorian,” Oracus said.

Gravaz didn’t show any concern other than a brief pause mid-movement. “And why is that?” he asked.

“Because he wants my power,” Oracus replied.

“I have been ordered to destroy this city. The King said nothing about saving lives!”

Oracus felt Bandor’s pain as Lapsin attacked him. There was a scuffle behind him, the sound of snarling jaws and the scaping of metal paws on the floor, but Oracus still didn’t look away from Gravaz.

“Your Lavorian will die in pain and I will burn you until you squeal,” Gravaz growled.

Oracus searched for Gravaz’s mind and then linked to his power. He put his hand behind his back to conceal it from the Ulatori, and then felt a familiar tingle of warmth in his palm. “Then you’d better be as fast as you are big,” he retaliated.

He threw the fireball at Gravaz with all his might. He expected to see Gravaz’s shock, but the Ulatori dodged the fire and it shot past his face. There was an explosion on what was left of the wall behind him, and his expression twisted in hatred. “You dare to use my own power against me twice?” he bellowed.

A fireball was thrown back at Oracus. He spun around quickly and it hit the shield on his back with more force than he had expected, knocking him onto his front. In moments, the giant hand of the Ulatori had grasped his midriff and he was thrown like a child’s doll into the rubble.

When he landed, Oracus hit his head and felt the world spin. Through his dizziness, he saw a flood of red entering the city through the gap in the wall he was supposed to be guarding. And near the gap, Lapsin’s teeth were clamped around Bandor’s leg.

Gravaz closed in again. This time, the Ulatori swung the metal ball of his flail around his body expertly. There was a maniacal grin on his hideous face. “Time to die,” he snarled.

The first blow of the flail smashed rock as Oracus rolled out of the way. But the second caught his arm and drew a scream of pain that he couldn’t hold in. Blood spilled from the wound and Gravaz smiled wickedly, knowing he was near to victory. The Ulatori made circles with the flail and Oracus could hear nothing but the whirring it made; it was terrifying. The moment that spiky, metal ball came down would be his last.

“You’ll never beat him with weapons,” Bandor advised, his words filled with the pain Lapsin was causing him. “Keep using your power.”

Gravaz was preparing to end Oracus’s life. The flail hummed through the air with more and more speed, until the Ulatori raised it above his head and brought it down with as much power as he could muster.

Oracus teleported at the last second and got away from Gravaz. There was a roar of fury as Gravaz’s flail missed its target, and Oracus took the spare seconds to aim a fireball at Lapsin and help Bandor escape from his jaws.

With the rain still falling, and with hundreds of Jowra’s soldiers entering the city, Oracus had no choice but to try and kill Gravaz. With the Elephant Lavorian occupying the other three Riders in Tallarin, he was the only one who could stop Jowra’s forces from taking control of this side of the city. He focused his power again, and threw one last fireball at the Ulatori who opposed him. Gravaz reacted quickly and threw a fireball of his own, and when the two collided in the air between them, there was an explosion that shook buildings all around.

Oracus hit the ground hard and felt pain shoot through his whole body. His ears were ringing, and he couldn’t see much of what was going on near to him. The feeling was similar to that he had felt outside Fervia, when the fireball had exploded on Gravaz’s chest. This time though, the force had been tenfold.

“Oracus? Oracus! Are you okay?” The voice sounded like a whisper at first. And then a face hovered over his own and the voice became louder. “Talk to me, Oracus!”

Oracus couldn’t make out the face, everything was too much of a blur, but the person’s hair was dark. It took him some time, but he finally recognised the voice. “I’m fine, Kivali,” he grunted.

“I’m getting you out of here,” she said.

“But what about Bandor?”

“Bandor’s fine, don’t worry.”

There was a moment of darkness, and then Oracus noticed he was lying on softer ground. When he started to sit up, he saw he was inside a tiny room with a lot of straw on the floor and pails catching the water that leaked through the ceiling. Kivali was crouched next to him, and Bandor and Onca were there too.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“In a small hut near the palace,” Kivali answered.

Oracus looked at Bandor and saw marks on his leg where Lapsin had bitten him. “You’re hurt,” he observed.

“I’m fine,” Bandor assured. “It’s just a graze.”

“Is Gravaz dead?”

“No, but you gave him quite a shock again,” Bandor said.

“The explosion shook half the city,” Kivali added. “He’s lucky to be alive. And so are you.”

“We would have finished him off,” Onca stated. “But Mammat and Zarad were quick to protect him and we only had time to get you out of there.”

There was the bellow of what sounded like Mammat’s trunk from a fair distance away.

“There were too many of them and they forced our men back,” Kivali said with a shake of her head. “As soon as Mammat breached the wall a second time we were overrun.”

“Then we need to get back out there,” Oracus said firmly. He tried to push himself to his feet but wobbled and fell back down.

“You need to rest,” Bandor told him. “You’ve taken a nasty whack to the head.”

“But we can’t let the enemy reach the families in the palace!”

“They’re already using the secret passages to the mountains. They’re safe.”

“So we’re just going to let Jowra’s army win?” Oracus questioned, mortified.

“We’re going to keep fighting for as long as we can, but their victory is inevitable. From the moment Mammat broke through the wall, this was only going to end one way.”

“Then we need to defeat Mammat!” Oracus exclaimed. “When we get back out there, we focus on killing both Riders.”

“Oracus, while you were fighting Gravaz, Zarad and Mammat were powerful enough to hold off three Riders and Lavorians,” Kivali warned.

Oracus tried to stand for a second time, determined to get back to the wall and fight, but his head started to spin and vomit rose to his throat. He sat back down, and that’s when he heard her voice in his head.

“Alticon!” it pleaded. “Help me!”

Oracus’s eyes widened in shock, and then an image of Catania flashed through his mind, her eyes as red as the blood on her hands.

“Alticon!” she screamed again. “Alticon, please!”