The village was their first rally point, and had been easily subdued. The quick-moving lead groups of archers and the slower, lightly armored infantry moved through the town looking for any lingering resistance, but found none. They were not concerned for the moment with any residents in their homes, and the village was already far too overrun by Jularra’s forces for any remaining militia to pose a threat.
Those who led the initial raid on the village sat on stone walls or pulled up a spot on the road as they waited for the rest of their forces to cross the fields. The energy passes closed, and the groups still in the village whooped and shouted in anticipation of the full-on siege of Brinnock.
The Spire, archers, and other advance fighters formed ranks. Once the Bedrock and other heavy units reached the village, the combined army of Acorilan would move on to the city.
***
Jularra’s allied lords arrived shortly behind her, frowning up at the flurry of activity atop the barbican and walls.
“All right," she said to them. "We need to get everyone organized and prepared to march on the front gatehouse. Have the remaining ‘Razers report to me immediately.”
A group of Spire, Bedrock and attendants scurried off to retrieve the Ridgerazers.
Jularra and her surrounding officers, including Korden, watched as the messengers disappeared into the throngs of approaching allies.
“Keep an eye out," Jularra said. "Interrupt me only if danger is imminent.”
Korden and the surrounding Spire nodded as they formed a defensive circle around the queen, facing outwards. Many took off their helmets to enjoy the luxury of unrestricted breathing.
Jularra closed her eyes and rubbed her eyelids as if obliging a headache. Her fingertips began to glow, and in turn, so did her eyelids. She pulled her hand away and opened her eyes. Her view of the world was aglow in amber neon.
She reached to the sky and clenched her fists. She shook them, as if dislodging something, and strained to pull down what only she could see. To her, it was an even brighter copy of the morning sky, tinged with the orange of her glowing eyes. She pulled it down just below the true sky, and then it was hers to use as she saw fit.
She crouched on the balls of her feet and waved her hands over a patch of dirt inside her circle of Spire. A rough rectangle began to glow the same orange as her eyes. A nearby guard bent her leg to scratch an itch and accidentally slung some dirt onto the patch in front of Jularra. The physical and mental disruption erased the rectangle.
“Be still!” she barked angrily.
The false sky was still active, and with another swipe, Jularra blew a new rectangle into being. As soon as it was recreated, Jularra started plucking and pinching and poking it, shaping it with gestures that resembled sprinkling seasonings over food. Slices with the side of her hand here. Wide brushes with her palm there. In time, the design fell into place. It was a representation of Brinnock and its surrounding area.
While rushing to finish the image, Jularra heard an approaching panic.
“Overhead! They’ve released the buzzards! Buzzards!”
Those surrounding her shifted nervously.
“Buzzards?” asked a young Spire guarding Jularra. “Who gives a fuck about buzzards?”
“These buzzards,” Korden answered, “are trained to fly high and dive at you at the last minute.”
“What?” the young guard snapped back. “You’re fucking with me.”
“No,” Korden insisted as he prepared to put his helmet back on. “They can dodge arrows, and make no sound. Breeders cut their voice boxes out. We need to keep them off the queen.” He then slapped the young guard’s helmet and pointed to her head.
Jularra sped up her work with the glowing model on the ground, but spared some focus to speak to those guarding her.
“We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just don’t let any fly down here.”
She worked faster. Clumps of trees, hills, the fields and cliff nearby. The city and its walls.
“They’re upon us!” shouted a nearby archer. “Watch out!”
“Come on! Helmets!” Korden shouted.
Jularra recognized the next smattering of sound as meaty smacks into faces and armor. Screams began to ring out as the birds dived, seeking exposed faces with their dagger-length beaks. As each bird struck, it brought its talons down in a secondary attack. If it couldn’t easily make a target out of a victim’s face, it would try for the chest, arms, or legs. Combined with the momentum of each bird’s dive, the effect on a person, even if mostly armored, could be devastating.
Cries continued to spill through the streets as the buzzards fell from the sky. Where skin wasn’t struck, the village was still permeated with the banging and clanging of raptor against metal. Jularra dug in with her focus.
On the far side of the city—in her magical representation of it—she began poking and setting down blocks, ranks, files, and groupings of additional allied forces. Forces that weren’t really there.
After she placed the final touches, she lifted her hands up over her miniature and began to twitch her fingers as if controlling a marionette.
From the tree line on the other side of the city, waves of siege engines, archers, cavalry, and foot soldiers began to emerge. They looked real in every way.
At least, they would to the commanders in Brinnock.
Jularra's fingers danced and dipped in the air. With each twitch of a hand muscle, she commanded the imaginary armies on the other side of the city and marched them towards the defenses.
Gargantuan towers pierced the tree canopy. Catapults and ballistae filtered out from behind the trees, and row after row of Acorilan’s fighting men and women poured out onto the field on the other side of the city.
Jularra floated her hands gently above the magical miniature and brought her imaginary forces closer to Brinnock. As they grew nearer, she knew their war cries would wear on the nerves of those inside the city walls. Closer and closer she brought them.
