Guild Mage: Apprentice-Chapter 124 - 123. The Well of Bones

To either side of her, Liv could see the other journeymen exchanging glances. It was Isabel, however, as their appointed leader who spoke up.

"Would you mind explaining that in a bit more detail, General Mishra?" she asked. "I get the feeling there's a story here that we don't know."

"He's talking about Costia, the Lady of Bones," Arjun said. "I don't know how much Lucania teaches about the war in Lendh ka Dakruim, but I get the impression it isn't much."

"Just so, Śrī Iyuz," the general said, inclining his head. "Let me also say that it will be good to have another healer present - our own people are already overwhelmed." Mishra turned back to Isabel and immediately began speaking quickly, but confidently.

"The name of our home would translate, in Lucanian, to 'The Land of Tears.' That name was chosen in remembrance of all those who gave their lives in sacrifice, so that we, their descendants, might one day be free," General Mishra explained. "While the final victory was attained across the ocean, in Varuna, we fought our own battles against the elder gods. One of the worst, here in the east, was Costia. When the war began, she caused a great pit to be dug into the earth, here, on the heights of the hill."

Liv couldn't help but look down at the floor as the man spoke, imagining a vast emptiness somewhere beneath their feet, ready to swallow up everyone in the fortress above.

"Into this well, as she called it, the Lady of Bones caused the corpse of every person who rose against her to be thrown. Slaves who fled and were captured, servants who sought to sabotage her dealings, warriors in her service who turned tail and fled. All of them were thrown into the pit, and not even humans alone – every beast slaughtered for meat, every jungle cat that prowled at the edge of the trees, joined them. As the liberators approached her dwelling, even that was not enough," Mishra related, his tone somber.

"Any who were not useful were dragged to the edge of the well, and thrown into the darkness. Children too young to fight, the elderly and infirm, the crippled and lame. Anyone without a skill that could be turned toward the war, she discarded. But when the time for battle came, to finally cast down the goddess of horrors, our ancestors found that was not the extent of her cruelty. With her power, Costia gave horrible life to the bones of the slain."

"Arjun," Liv said, when the general had paused to take a drink of tea, "this is where your word of power comes from, isn't it?"

"One of the two imprinted by my jati," Arjun confirmed. "Cost. The word to control bone. We use it to mend what is broken."

After wetting his throat, General Mishra continued. "I suspect you can imagine what followed - three days and nights of utter horror. The bones of the dead marched forth from the pit, and made war upon the living. With no heart to pierce, no brain to cleave, no blood to drain their life away on the slopes of the hill, the dead killed inexorably and without mercy. And the corpse of every fallen soldier was dragged back to the pit, and thrown inside. It only ended when Costia herself was finally slain."

"But that wasn't really the end," Liv said. She could already see where this was going. "The Well of Bones, where the goddess died. It became a rift, just like the Tomb of Celris. Greater, or Lesser?"

"Greater," the general confirmed. "Our ancestors built this fortress over the well in order to contain it. There are four gates, each manned, fortified, and defended, beneath us. In order for the dead to escape, they would need to win past each gate in turn. When the rift erupts, the dead come, and make their attempt."

"I would have thought they'd have run out of corpses by now," Brom broke in. When everyone looked at him, the boy shrugged. "After a thousand years, you know."

"The mana of the rift permeates the ground beneath the city, and the surrounding jungle," Mishra explained. "Any corpse that rots in the earth eventually makes its way to the Well of Bones. We burn our dead, and grind their bones to dust, but we cannot recover every animal that falls in the jungle. And then, too, every soldier who falls defending the gates rises, in turn, to join the enemy."

"We burn our dead as well," Liv observed. "For similar reasons. So that the Great Bats of Ractia cannot feed on the blood of the slain." She made certain not to look about the room to find Wren when she said it.

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"It sounds like you've got a pretty good system to handle all this, though," Isabel pointed out. "What do you need us to do?"

One of the general's officers stepped forward, a severe man with a thin mustache and beard, neatly oiled and groomed. "Never before have three rifts erupted at once in such close proximity, and with no warning," he said. "Our soldiers are spread thin, and after two days of fighting, they are exhausted."

Mishra nodded. "As Commander Jagan speaks truly," he said. "Our ksatryia's are strong and swift, but their words of power are not as suited for crushing overwhelming numbers as the magic of your guild. I fought beside your Master Jurian once, many years ago, when we were young men. It is my hope that you can help us turn the tide, and give our men a chance to rest."

"We will fight in shifts," Isabel said, and if she was feeling any doubt, Liv couldn't hear it in her voice. "Like we do for the king tides," she explained, glancing back at the other journeymen. "I'll take the first, with Brom and Anne. Elenda, you're with Hamon and Wyman, on third shift."

"Sending me alone?" Liv asked, but she couldn't help smile.

"I've seen you fight," Isabel shot back. "Plus, you've got your bodyguard, there, and I assume Arjun. That gives us teams of three."

"Healers do not fight," Commander Jagan said, frowning. "It is not their duty, or their place. Śrī Iyuz will be welcome among the wounded."

"With respect, Commander," Arjun said, "I am an apprentice of the guild. I will stand beside my friends." Liv could tell how much speaking up had cost him: there was a quaver in Arjun's voice, and she doubted that he was aware how he was wringing his hands nervously.

"The boy has come as a member of the guild, and therefore he remains under the command of the guild," General Mishra said. "We will not turn away aid. But understand this, boy," he continued, "I will not shield you from your jati. The consequences of your choices are your own to bear."

"I understand," Arjun said.

"Come." Mishra rounded the table. "I will take your first team down to the gates. The rest of you will be led to your barracks; have something to eat, rest, and prepare yourself."

"Brom, Anne, with me," Isabel commanded, and the other two journeymen fell in beside her. Liv moved to follow them, as well.

"I want to see what we're dealing with," she explained. "If I'm to be your second."

After a moment's thought, Isabel nodded. "But then come right back up to rest. You can brief the other two teams."

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"Liv," Arun called out. "You should leave your wand with me."

For a moment, Liv couldn't imagine why, but then it came to her in a flash. "Bone," she said, with a groan. "Rusting bone. I'm not going to be able to use it at all, am I?" She pulled her wand from the leather sheath at her hip, and handed it over to her friend. Then, she hurried to catch up with the group trailing behind General Mishra. She wasn't surprised at all when Wren came up on her side.

"This is going to be a mess," the huntress said, quietly. "Did you listen to what he was saying? I see these kids constantly practicing shields and blades, most of them aren't nearly as flexible as you are. And I'm not going to get any blood from what we're fighting."

"I think you should probably not count on getting any blood while we're here," Liv told her. "We don't really know these people, and if they decide you're a problem, I don't know how much I can do to stop them. I think Arjun's going to be in trouble, too."

General Mishra led them to a grand staircase of stone, wider than any she'd ever seen before, and with shallow but wide steps. It took up as much space as a courtyard, and looked fully capable of handling hundreds of soldiers at a time - probably because that was what it had been built for. The initial steps heading down were slit off to their side of the central steps, which continued off a short landing, and ended in a massive gate, complete with a metal portcullis. Above the entire staircase were crenellated walls, manned by archers.

"How do arrows work against the dead?" Liv called down to the general, as she and Wren hurried down the steps.

"They do not," Mishra said. "Each archer station has arrows wrapped in oil-soaked cloth, and an oil lamp to light them. When fire becomes hot enough, bones crack and crumble." He pointed to strange spouts in the walls, and drains cut into the floor of the landing. "We pour oil down onto the enemy, light it with arrows, and then use the drains when everything has stopped moving."

At their approach, the first gate was opened by soldiers who stood at attention and saluted the general. Rather than proceed directly to another staircase, Liv was impressed to see a short hallway, with more portcullises set into the ceiling, ready to be dropped at any moment. There were horizontal slits in the stone walls to either side, and she judged they would give enough room for men in adjoining galleries, behind the walls, to wield polearms.

"This entire place is a killing field," Brom commented, looking about them.

"That is the purpose of Akela Kila," General Mishra said. He led them down, down into the extensive fortifications beneath the ground, from one gate to another, more staircases built to move entire troops of men, and traps designed to hold back a tide of monsters at every turn. When they began down the staircase between the second and third levels, Liv felt the change.

"We've entered the shoal," she announced.

"Anything that dies, from this point on, will rise an enemy," the general told them. At this gate, he paused. "Our men were pushed back from the lowest gate on the second night," he explained. "We have not yet been able to reclaim that ground. When we pass, these men will lock and bar the way behind us. Be ready to fight."

Wren drew her knives, while Brom settled his shield onto his left arm. Liv saw that, rather than an arming sword, he drew a hammer like those he'd used against the Reef Crabs during the king tide. General Mishra took in hand a kind of great club, or mace, which had been worn strapped to his back. It was of stout wood, winged about with metal that, to Liv's eye, looked to carry enchanted sigils graven into the metal. There were a kind of ridges or flanges that stuck out from the wood, similar to spikes or studs, but clearly meant less to pierce, than to break anything on which the weapon fell.

At the general's signal, the soldiers opened the gate. As soon as the great wooden doors had swung back toward them, Liv could hear the sound of fighting in the distance. Men shouted and screamed, metal echoed at each resounding impact. The stink of blood, rot, and open bowls hit them in the face when the air on either side of the gate mixed.

Beyond the lowered metal portcullis, Liv saw another hallway, leading to a staircase in the same style as those above them. Here, rather than soldiers standing guard and prepared, she saw a line of men holding the top landing. They were armored, all of them, in chainmail or scales, and they bore maces, clubs, or hammers, along with shields. The rear line, Liv noticed, used polearms that could reach over the front line of shields and push back the tide of corpses.

The monsters that pressed against the shield wall were in differing stages of decay: some, like the rotting bear trying to bowl over three Dakruiman soldiers with sheer size and weight, still had scraps of matted hair clinging to pallid flesh. Others, such as a human skeleton with a skull entirely bare of flesh or hair, seemed to be much older, as if they'd had more time to rot away the soft pieces of what they had been in life.

The soldiers at the gate shouted, and Liv realized they were counting down. In the hallway, wounded men stirred – Liv hadn't even noticed them, at first, so horrifying was the tableau of the battle on the stairs. When the count ended, the soldiers raised the portcullis, and the wounded men scrambled past, helping each other to safety. General Mishra led the journeymen in, and Liv followed at the rear.

Before they'd even reached the landing above the stairs, the portcullis dropped again, with the clank of metal on stone, and then the doors shut. Liv could even hear the bar being dropped into place. She hoped the wounded men would survive long enough to get to the healers.

While Isabel and the general walked up behind the line of soldiers with polearms, Liv realized instantly that she was too short to see over multiple ranks of armed men. Instead, with Wren at her heels, she made her way around, past the barricades to where the archers and their oils waited.

A dark haired woman rounded on her and said something, but Liv didn't understand a word of it. She was really going to have to have Arjun help her learn at least the basics of the language, or this was going to be difficult. "Senapati Mishra," Liv said, pointed back at the general, and then slipped past the archer so that she could lean out between the crenellations.

The entire lower stair was packed with a mass of pushing, swaying corpses. As far as Liv could tell, they extended back into the hallway beyond, which was blackened and burned and spattered with blood along all of the walls. She truly hoped that no man had fallen under that crushing tide of rotted flesh and bone.

Liv glanced over to the shield-wall, and saw that Brom had surged forward to take his place there, stepping into a gap left by one of the exhausted soldiers. A spark of blue-gold mana leapt above both lines, and blades of coherent magic shot down into the mob.

"What'd I tell you?" Wren asked. "Blades and shields. If they were expecting Jurian, they aren't going to get him."

"Let's see how this works, then," Liv said. She reached for her wand, frowned when it wasn't there, and wondered where her old staff was. Probably back in her rooms at Castle Whitehill. It would have been good to have it here.

Instead, she simply raised her right hand up over her head and made a fist. "Celet Ghesia," Liv intoned, loud enough to echo off the stone walls and stairs. Without her wand to aid her in focusing the flows of mana, wisps escaped, wasted into the surrounding area – but not nearly as much as she would have lost years ago, when she'd first began to learn magic.

A massive fist of ice, as large as a wagon, coalesced above the stairwell, and Liv punched her own hand down. The frozen fist followed her motion, slamming down into the mass of corpses with a sickening, splattering crunch. Bones broke, and when she raised the fist again, pieces of rotting flesh clung to it. On the stone floor, crushed corpses twitched, but did not rise.

"Planes or discs!" she shouted over to Isabel and Anne, who remained behind the two ranks of warriors, next to the general. Liv raised her hand and slammed it down again, crushing another group of corpses. This time, when the other two journeymen cast, they created simmering blue shapes of thin force - one a rectangle, like the shapes Archamagus Jurian used to separate dueling students, and the other a disc, like the one Liv had used to haul trunks and bags. Both slammed down into the mass of bone and flesh, pushing and crushing.

Liv nodded, slammed her fist down one more time, and lodged it into the hallway below the stairs, cutting off the flow of new enemies. Then, leaving the gaping woman in command of the archers behind, she strode back around to where Isabel stood next to the general.

"I'll talk to the others about what to do," Liv called, over the sound of screams, crashes, and squelching, rotting flesh. "The ice should hold them there for a bit, at least. Long enough to clean up what's here."

"The biggest problem is going to be mana," Isabel grunted, sweeping her plane of mana sideways to crush a dozen corpses into one wall. "We can't possibly do this for eight hours at a time."

Liv nodded. "With your permission, General, I'll pull back."

Mishra nodded. "Go. Speak to your people. We will hold here."

"I'm glad you see the problem," Wren whispered, walking at Liv's side back down the hallway toward the portcullis.

"We can make a big difference for about five minutes," Liv agreed. "But against numbers like that, we won't have the mana to keep it up. I need to talk to Arjun."