The Deepcombers

Chapter Fifty

"So that's what they're doing." Val exclaimed. She smiled at the sight of the prayer circle and even from this high elevation the wheels' constant gyration was oddly mesmerizing.

"It's small now but they'll keep adding chain all night," Lon said.

"It's already working." Melcart pointed. "Look how bright it is." The contents of the copper pot glowed and white light shone-out through the holes. The four young masters ate their meal and watched the Crols for many minutes until they heard the ram's horn in the lookout tower. Barrrooom! That sound turned their attention back to Atarskal.

Lon heard the single-note alarm and searched the town to find the reason why. Dozens of leather-garbed Calbians swarmed around behind the south-gate ramparts. The sound of chains on cobblestones preceded another unexpected sight; the wide double doors on the south wall were suddenly thrown-open.

The young masters heard the horse brigade thunder across the parade-square and they saw the Saviour of the Calbians exit the settlement with five other riders in the van. Everyone gasped in amazement as Atar himself appeared on horseback and lead the sortie! Saeya inhaled loudest at the unexpected sight of her beloved protector on the field.

"They're going to smash that catapult I'll wager," Melcart said.

"Will it work?" Saeya bit her bottom lip.

"He has made a surprise," Val said, "but they'll need speed and striking power."

"He carries his mighty axe," Lon pointed at the weapon's huge shiny metal head strapped to the giant's back. "That's the Axe of Kirgar."

"Yep. That's how he'll break the machine," Mel winked.

"But on horseback he'll use Retulan, a flame sword," Saeya said.

"Hmm. I don't think it flames..." Val said. Everyone could see Atar held up a saber with a slight curve. He led his force in tight group that scattered all foes in the southern crop fields.

Trumpets peeled. Dozens of Crols donned their kit again and formed lines and squares across the garden soil below. But the pilgrims from the prayer-wheel had no officers to organize them. Or perhaps they were all officers for they were so lightly armed and ill-prepared for the onslaught. Atar savaged them with his horse troop. He rode right over the copper kettle and his horse's hooves kicked the can as it passed. The six riders left behind a trail of bodies.

"Look. Look." Lon pointed at a figure in yellow who risked his life to run through the blessed patch where the prayer-wheel had circled and where the devotees now cowered without weapons. "That's Horne. See how he runs to get his stone!" They all watched the priest rescue the copper kettle at the center of the wreckage and they saw him retrieve the luminescent lump which flared white in his hands.

"Now what?"

Atar never looked back. He rode with determination toward the artillery in the eastern crop fields. It's possible he wasn't aware that he could have crushed Horne right there; had he simply reined his horse and fetched up the copper can he'd have seized the priest's abilities.

Horne scrambled to reassemble his force in the wake of this devastating surprise attack on his army's central-nervous system. In the chaos wrought by the unexpected strike, the Crolean priest clutched his bright white power source and sprinted for his perch in the west beanfield. The manner in which he ran made it clear he had a plan.

"Mind control," Lon said. It was all he'd ever seen Horne do with his Varget.

"On Atar? Or the five other riders?" Seaya asked. She looked to Val to report the feasibility.