Tallas Fallen Temple Ch 31

I know I said that this would be the last chapter, but there's an epilogue coming to tie up all the loose ends.

Also, a huge thanks to Mr. Ken Scades for all of his editing for the many months it took to complete this work. His advice and adjustments have been crucial to the quality of work you see here.

Enjoy!

*****

Talla stared down into the burning city of Beshenna, blind to the people standing around her. Shanata loomed at her aside. Unlike Talla, she had trained as a Fighter and didn't startle easily. Having dragged in herself along on this campaign solely to protect her favourite man, and lacking any experience in war, the death and destruction implied by the rising dark smoke overwhelmed her ability to react.

The black plumes drifted lazily away to the east, highlighted in a comforting orange by the sun setting behind Talla's back. She could almost imagine them as a sign of casual campers in the outback, a few Hunters celebrating a catch.

These fires carried no frivolity. They represented buildings destroyed and marauding bandits. From Zhair'lo's mind, she carried images of the barbaric men and women he had encountered. People such as these, she imagined, had loosed themselves upon the city of Beshenna. Dirty, rusting swords and all, they laid waste to civilization and struck for the gates of the Temple.

And what of the Catatonic? What of those who found themselves in poor Shen's state, unconscious and defenceless? What fate lay in store for them? Would they ever awaken? Or would murderous Enraged take them in their sleep?

Talla's mind rebelled against what she saw, and not just for the horrors she could only imagine from this distance, but for her own conscience as well. She pushed the pain and suffering of the people of Beshenna to the back of her mind, letting the physical gap between her body and their anguish stand in place for the mental wall she desperately needed to construct. Talla told herself it couldn't happen and, blank faced and empty of mind, kept to Shanata's side.

-===================-

"Andrea?" Kendrick's brogue rolled out over his shoulder.

The Master Fighter kept his eyes on the downslope where Gillian had already deployed several squads to keep watch on the tree line. Besides those few forward units, however, he and Gillian stood at the front of the army as it spread out across the hillside.

The Acolyte of Form, who had run from Beshenna and since walked back with the army to her home city, stepped up wearily to Kendrick's side.

"Aye, Master Kendrick?"

"What's our best approach, again?" the Master Fighter stroked his chin.

Andrea had already briefed them, once while she sat on their wagon and they walked behind her, and once again late into the previous night. Kendrick merely wanted a rehash of that same talk.

She pointed down at the Temple, "The corner nearest us belongs to Sweetness. Sweetness's small gate is to the left of the vertex."

As Kendrick looked down, he saw that the right hand edge of the Temple almost lined up with their current position. The left side of the Temple faced more squarely on to the approach from Gern. For this reason, he suspected Andrea's superiors had suggested Sweetness's small gate.

"They will do their best to hold that gate," Andrea promised. "No matter how bad it gets. The single fire inside the Goddess's triangle is a message: the Goddess's domain is still secure."

"And the domains of the Queens?" Gillian's hands rested on her hips as she turned a dark eye on the Acolyte.

"The opposite signal," Andrea's voice spoke crisply. "The Queens and Queens-Ascending will light their central fires only if their domains are breached and they are forced to barricade themselves inside their Halls or retreat to the centre."

By now, everyone in the army had this information, but Gillian and Kendrick both wanted at least that much drilled into everyone's heads right before the battle. Minds could wander when blood spilled, and only rote memorization and hard-learned instincts could hope to hold people together.

"I can see the main avenue into Sweetness from here," Kendrick declared. "We'll make three columns, hold them tight as we go down the hill. Once we hit the plains and the edge of the city, we'll divide the columns down the central avenue and the streets on either either side. The Conduit and his entourage will stay dead centre at all times."

He paused, looking down at the squads near the tree line.

"No contact," he declared grimly, turning his head just slightly to Andrea at his back.

"Someone should have been waiting for us here," she replied to his unspoken question, but she too turned to her back, gazing up at the blackened tower; failed guardian of Beshenna. "Things have worsened."

"Indeed," Gillian grimaced at the understatement, and became Authority, turning to speak to Kendrick. "Form them up. Let's get into the Temple before dark."

Authority passed its orders to Command and Kendrick stepped back to make it happen.

-===================-

"Fighters!" a bellowing brogue rolled over Zhair'lo where he sat with his squad. "To the Fore!"

The call roused all of the Soldiers and a rustling of armoured bodies ensued. A thousand women and men began to sort themselves out as Kendrick called out Chiefs and squads to lead each of three columns. Zhair'lo noted that the Master Fighter assigned fewer Soldiers to the centre column, leaving their structure hollow, while maintaining two squads around Zhair'lo himself, along with his own squad and the three Seconds.

"The Seconds are coming in to the city?" Bree asked. "What in the nine hells for?"

"Fucking liability," Tara twisted her lips in disappointment. "Like we don't have enough problems with making sure Zhai doesn't faint."

Zhair'lo puffed out his chest and glared at her.

"Sorry," Tara shrugged. "Facts are facts. I don't need more people to protect."

"Nonetheless," Sonja slid up behind her, "you will do as you are told."

"Listen, you," Tara turned around and stepped up to Sonja, her forehead just under the older woman's chin, "I don't see the point taking them with us. They've served their purpose -"

"You are both ignorant and unkind," Sonja cut in sharply, leaning over to glare directly down into Tara's eyes. "You have no idea what's coming or how those women may be called to contribute. Besides which, where exactly would you like to 'leave them behind'?"

Sonja waved a hand back at the building belching black smoke, "Perhaps they could rest peacefully and safely in the smoking ruins of the tower?"

Tara jerked back, her face reddened. Practical or not, she'd never meant to countenance the abandoning of human beings.

"Alright, then," Sonja glared, and her voice softened very slightly. "As much as we like to keep every single Soldier informed of every tactic, there isn't time to apprise you of everything. As such, you are required to demonstrate some level of trust."

Chastised, Tara nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

The columns of Soldiers had already begun to form around them. Zhair'lo's squad took their positions around him, as they had for so long, without a thought. Behind them, Master Kendrick, Gillian and their finest Soldiers and Rangers assembled. Chief Cameron and a pair of squads would go in ahead of them, although the front of centre column prepared itself farther down the hill.

Zhair'lo stood amazed at the speed with which the army sorted itself out. For a moment, it seemed to him unbelievable, but then he recalled all of the preparation and training which had brought each of these people to this hill on this evening, and he found it not surprising at all. How else could these people behave in an emergency?

While Kendrick continued bellowing out orders, Gillian approached Zhair'lo and his squad as they were joined by the Seconds.

"You people," she stood before them with her fists on her hips. "As much as you've been in one battle, you're still extremely raw, so I'm going to brief you quickly."

The older woman's voice, dark and foreboding, chilled them instantly. No part of them cared that her tone might hint at denigrating their abilities. They knew they journeyed soon into a chaotic environment and Gillian offered them wisdom.

"First, you are in the centre column," she pointed out. "So put your bows away. You've got no business firing arrows in any direction until the columns separate. Clear?"

"Aye, Mistress!" they chorused back.

"Your duty is to shield the Conduit," her voice darkened further. "With your own lives if necessary"

Zhair'lo felt a catch in his throat and his body twitched as something inside himself demanded he speak in protest, but Gillian made a slicing motion with her hand.

"Period."

Zhair'lo gulped, looking over Gillian's shoulder at the burning city, as she continued to lecture them.

'We were wrong Talla -'

-===================-

'- we were so wrong.'

Talla shook herself back to a limited awareness, absorbing the pain and shock around her. Her eyes widened as she realized what Zhair'lo planned to do.

"No!" she shouted.

"What is your problem?" Shanata hissed at her.

Talla suddenly came into her surroundings. In the order of battle, they found themselves directly behind Kendrick and Gillian's squads, as close as they could get to Zhair'lo and as far as they could get from any of the potential battle lines.

"Nothing, Mistress," Talla replied, stony faced.

Her vehement denial of the images she saw projected in Zhair'lo's mind echoed back to her, shaking the mental link between them.

'No, Zhair'lo. We've come so far!'

He slipped away from her, the link unable to handle the anger and disagreement between them and Talla stomped on an urge to march past Kendrick and Gillian, find Zhair'lo and scream at him. She couldn't believe his willingness to give in.

She remembered being laid out on that table, whipped until she bled. Sure, they had done their best to expunge that memory and replace it with a better one, but that could only dress the wound, not heal it. Wounds that deep left scars. How could Zhair'lo possibly consider supporting the people who had done that to her? They'd beaten her and forced her to watch him being Served by someone else with blood still fresh on her skin.

Didn't he understand the pain?

Talla had seen the dead bodies as well as anyone else, had witnessed the savagery of those who had fallen on the army from the cliffs. Maybe, she thought, the Temple deserved no better. Maybe the Temple had it coming. Her mouth twisted as she glanced over at Sonja, who had kept such a tight focus on Zhair'lo for the last three days, the woman hadn't even noticed Talla's presence. Certain people definitely had it coming.

She had no reason to think Beshenna used any less brutality than Gern did it to maintain its authority over women and men.

What should they do now? Talla wouldn't let Zhair'lo's feet get cold just because a few people had died and a few hard cases were lighting fires all over the city. The Temple hadn't spared any concern for the number of people it whipped and otherwise tortured. If the rumours she'd heard contained any truth, this entire crisis had come about because a Queen had murdered two other High Officers in a bid to take Beshenna's throne for herself.

If the highest members of the Temple could stoop to killing each other, why should she try to stake out any higher moral ground? Back in Gern, half a dozen other women depended on her to lead them. She could hardly turn completely around and tell them to call the whole thing off. What kind of a leader did that? Talla knew she'd taken her position and chosen her road. She intended to stick with it.

Zhair'lo had suffered a bit of a shock. She understood that. The sudden violence had shocked her, too, but she'd gotten herself over it. Zhair'lo would come around just as she had. They both had too much invested in this to change their minds.

-===================-

The army marched down out of the foothills into the low, scrub filled plains. Having left their carts far behind, they weren't confined to the well worn paths. Master Kendrick watched in satisfaction as the three columns he had defined spread out to form a protective shield around Zhair'lo and his squad. The foremost elements carefully kept an eye on each other, never letting any one get out in front of his comrades. The women, back two rows from the swordsmen, notched their arrows but kept their bows low to save their energy.

"The plains are dry and usable all the way to the city," a flag woman at his side remarked, her eyes absorbing signals from those in the second ranks. "No contact yet, although there are bodies."

He had kept the front of the centre most column shallower than the others, a large gap separating it from the squads surrounding the Conduit and his entourage. Kendrick didn't expect to need much in the way of protection down the main avenue. The best intelligence the Temple had given him suggested that Enraged shied away from large spaces, which should keep them relatively safe when they marched down to Sweetness's gate. To support that move, however, he assigned larger forces to the two nearest parallel roads, preventing anyone from coming upon the Conduit from those angles.

Master Kendrick's only real worry, as he watched the columns splitting farther apart to line up with the parallel roads, lay with the gates.

He grimaced and pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to scratch at the drying dirt he'd smeared into the greying hairs swept back over his ears.

An awfully large number of fires burned in the city, and the twin stenches of burning food and decomposing flesh assaulted his senses as they reached the low end of the foothills. The Enraged had waged their assault on the Temple for over a day now. Who, he wondered, would still stand over the gates?

If the Enraged had already broken the gates open, despite the lack of fires signalling the fall of a Domain, they would enter easily, but the fight through a conquered triangle would more than make up for it. But if the Enraged had merely managed to push the Fighters back off the wall without breaking open the gates, no one could let Gillian's force in.

In that case, they could either break the gates themselves or start marching around the perimeter of the castle until they found a held gate. Neither option appealed to him. Either find himself pressed against a wall, or break down a bastion he'd rather preserve.

Kendrick hoped he wouldn't spend his last breath dying in a stupid battle.

-===================-

Zhair'lo hadn't fully appreciated the size of Beshenna from the hilltop by the guardian tower. Having experience of only one city, his mind had scaled what he'd seen to match his home town. As his squad came to the lowest out-buildings of the city proper, a chill changed Zhair'lo's heartbeat. The distance to Sweetness gates stretched out before him, block after broken block, one ruined, smoking tower after another.

Bodies littered the streets. Some of them showed signs of violent distress. Others had either simply collapsed in place or suffered from subtler forms of violence. The sheer number of bodies spoke to a level of violence and destruction dwarfing anything in Zhair'lo's imagination. He remembered asking Sergeant Yung why so the Temple employed so many Fighters when the barbarians numbered so few. The carnage around him - the bodies he literally had to step over - answered more eloquently than anything Yung could have said.

The foremost squads had entered the city before he'd realized and he'd already lost sight of those leading the left and right columns. A moment passed and Beshenna's buildings surrounded him as well, blocking out a good portion of the military force that had come here to escort him. Around him, the women drew their bows and notched their arrows, no longer fearing that a miss could strike a friend in a neighbouring column.

A sharp pain struck Zhair'lo's stomach as a chunk of his personal protection suddenly disappeared. Sure, those other squads marched only a block away, but if any enemies lurked in the buildings along the route, his only security lay with the few squads now marching with him at the centre of the formation.

And, despite Talla's protestations, he knew that only enemies hid here.

'You don't know that!' she shouted in his mind.

'What else could this be?' he pleaded in return.

'So they fought,' she explained, 'there are rebels in this city and they fought against the Fighters.'

Zhair'lo shook his head, not willing to lend more than a tiny fraction of his concentration to the mental conversation.

'You think these dead are our friends or our enemies?'

'What?'

'Look at the bodies around and think, dammit!' his brow lowered in frustration. 'Who lays dead at our feet?'

Something twitched at the corner of his vision and he brought his bow around, scanning for threats through the windows of a broken bakery.

'Well?' he asked 'Are these dead ones - these dead, unarmoured people - our friends or enemies?'

Talla's mind reeled, assailing him with a wave of dizziness, as she sorted her thoughts out.

'Without armour, they can't be Fighters. They must be our allies ... and they're losing!'

'Obviously they're losing, but that doesn't matter right now, does it?'

A screeching, as if thousands of birds suddenly took wing in fright, echoed down the alleys from their left.

Signals passed from squad to squad through the lines of sight available and a woman spoke, addressing Kendrick and Gillian who had closed up tight to Zhair'lo's squad.

"Contact, Mistress," the woman reported. "Primitive weapons. They will not break past the perimeter."

Indeed, the sounds of violence soon ceased.

"Casualties?" Gillian asked.

A short pause while the woman read new signals.

"Minor wounds. All are mobile."

Gillian turned to Kendrick, "Get moving again."

"Fighters! Forward!" Kendrick called out and the army, halted in readiness for violence, marched again into the deepening dusk.

'If the dead are our allies, then who killed them?' Zhair'lo insisted.

'The Temple killed them.'

'Like hell, Talla. Look at them!'

He forced the images into her mind, showing her the bodies she couldn't stand to look at herself. Sensing her desire to reject the horrors he conveyed, he pushed harder until she relented.

'Pitchforks,' he noted of one body, then showed her another image, 'Blunt force to the head, probably a brick.'

Talla's mind railed against what he tried to tell her, but Zhair'lo refused to give even a centimetre.

'Fighters don't kill like this, Talla.'

He showed her his sword training, showed her the images of the battle in which they'd participated. Talla watched the sword slashes in horror, not at the death being dealt, but at the inevitable conclusion Zhair'lo had drawn. She tried to reject that conclusion, tried with all her heart to find some way to hold to her path, but she couldn't.

'Enraged,' she acknowledged.

'Enraged,' Zhair'lo agreed.

In the darkening gloom, he turned around, making as if to scan for danger, but underneath it all sought out Talla. Between leather covered shoulders he spotted her, and her fully dilated pupils sparkled with light reflected from the metal helms of those around her.

'This is what we would have done, Talla.'

No answer came back.

'This could have been Gern.'

-===================-

As the sun fell behind the hills, the last silhouette of Beshenna's guardian vanishing into the cloud of smoke hanging about the entire city, Kendrick selected a few swordsman to light and carry torches in their off-hands.

The acrid smell assaulting his nostrils had surprised Zhair'lo. From a distance, the smoke had seemed to rise high up toward the clouds in neat columns, but at ground level, it hung in a grey haze, reducing both visibility and respiration.