with a twist, easily hurling the small demon over the wall. In seconds he was back to setting his ladder.
“Bring extra spears to the Push Guard in the courtyard,” he called to them as he sprinted up to the next level, his hands never even touching the rungs.
Jardir grabbed a pair of spears, and Abban did likewise, but Jardir could see the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me, and do as I do,” he told his friend. “This is no different from the drills we did all day.”
“Except that this is night,” Abban said. But he followed as Jardir glanced both ways and darted for Hasik’s alcove, keeping crouched low behind the wall to avoid the notice of the wind demons circling high above the village.
They made it to the alcove, and from there down the steps to the courtyard. Clay demons fell like rain from above as the dal’Sharum drove them over the terrace walls. The ambush points were precisely placed, and the majority of the alagai fell directly into the makeshift demon pits. As for the rest, and the sand demons that had formed in the courtyard, the Push Guard harried them into the pits with spear and shield. One-way wards were staked around the mouth and floor of each pit; alagai could enter, but not escape. The spears of the warriors could not pierce alagai armor, but they could sting and shove and harry, sending the demons stumbling back over the edge.
“Boy! Spear!” Kaval called, and Jardir saw that the drillmaster’s own spear was snapped in half as he faced a sand demon. Seemingly unhindered, Kaval spun the broken shaft so quickly it blurred, driving it into the demon’s shoulder and hip joints, preventing it from finding balance or any footing save in the direction the drillmaster wanted it to go. All along, Kaval continued to advance, pivoting smoothly to add force to thrusts and to bring his shield into play as he forced the demon ever closer to the pit’s edge.
But while the drillmaster seemed to be in no danger from the demon before him, more were falling from the terraces at every moment, and the inferior weapon was slowing him at a time he needed to finish the demon quickly.
“Acha!” Jardir called, throwing a fresh spear. At the call, Kaval shoved the broken shaft down the demon’s throat and caught the new one in a smooth turn that brought him right back in to attack with the new weapon. In moments the sand demon fell shrieking into the pit.
“Don’t just stand there!” Kaval barked. “Finish and get back to your post!” Jardir nodded and scurried off, he and Abban similarly supplying other warriors.
When they were out of spears, they turned to head back up the steps. They had not gone far when a thump behind them turned their heads. Jardir looked back to see an angry clay demon roll back to its feet and shake its head. It was far from the Push Guard, and spotted easier prey in Abban and Jardir.
“The ambush pocket!” Jardir shouted, pointing to the small warded alcove where the Push Guard had hidden until the demons began to fall from above. As the clay demon charged after them, the two boys broke for it. Abban, in his fear, even managed to take the lead.
But just shy of the pocket’s safety, Abban gave a cry as his leg collapsed under him. He hit the ground hard, and it was clear he would not be able to rise in time.
Jardir picked up speed, leaping to tackle Abban as he struggled to rise. He took the brunt of the impact himself, rolling them both over and turning the momentum into a perfect sharusahk throw that sent Abban’s bulky frame tumbling the last few feet to safety.
Jardir fell flat and remained prone when the move was completed. The demon, predictably, followed the motion and leapt at Abban, only to strike the wards of the pocket.
Jardir got quickly to his feet as the clay demon shook off the shock of the wards, but the demon spotted him immediately, and worse, it stood between him and the safety of the wards.
Jardir had no weapon or net, and knew the demon could outrun him on open ground. He felt a moment of panic until he remembered the words of Drillmaster Qeran.
Alagai have no guile, his teacher had taught. They may be stronger and faster than you, but their brains are those of a slow-witted dog. They reveal their intent in their bearing, and the humblest feint will confuse them. Never forget your wits, and you will always see the dawn.
Jardir made as if to run toward the nearest demon pit, then turned sharply and ran instead for the steps. He dodged around the rubble and barricades on sheer memory, wasting no time in confirming with eyes what his head knew. The demon shrieked and gave chase, but Jardir gave it no more thought, focusing only on his path ahead.
“Oot!” he cried as Hasik’s alcove came into sight, signaling the demon behind him. He could shelter there, and Hasik could lead the demon into ambush.
But Hasik’s alcove was empty. The warrior must have just sprung another trap, and was at the ambush point fighting.
Jardir knew he could shelter in the alcove, but then what of this demon? At best, it might escape the killing field, and at worst, it could catch some warrior or nie’Sharum unawares and be on him before he understood what was happening.
He put his head down and ran on.
He managed to put some ground between himself and the clay demon in the makeshift maze, but it was still close behind when the ambush point came in sight.
“Oot!” Jardir called. “Oot! Oot!” He put on a last burst of speed, hoping the warriors within heard his call and would be ready.
He darted around the last barrier, and a pair of quick hands grabbed him and yanked him off to the side. “You think this is a game, rat?” Hasik demanded.
Jardir had no reply, and thankfully needed none as the demon came charging into the ambush point. A dal’Sharum threw a net over it, tripping it up.
The demon thrashed, snapping the thick strands of the woven horsehair net like thread, and seemed about to tear itself free when several warriors tackled it and pinned it to the ground. One dal’Sharum took a rake of claws to the face and fell away screaming, but another took his place, grabbing two of the demon’s overlapping armor plates and pulling them apart with his hands, revealing the vulnerable flesh beneath.
Hasik flung Jardir aside, running in and driving his spear into the opening. The demon shrieked and writhed about in agony, but Hasik twisted the weapon savagely. The demon gave a final wrack and lay still. Jardir gave a whoop and thrust his fist into the air.
His delight was short-lived, though, as Hasik let go the spear, leaving it jutting from the dead alagai, and stormed over to him.
“You think yourself a Baiter, nie’Sharum?” he demanded. “You could have gotten men killed, taking it upon yourself to drive alagai into a trap that had not been reset.”
“I meant no—” Jardir began, but Hasik punched him hard in the stomach, and the response was blown from his lips.
“I gave you no leave to speak, boy!” Hasik shouted. Jardir saw his rage and wisely held his tongue. “Your orders were to stay in your alcove, not lead alagai to the backs of unprepared warriors!”
“Better he brought it here with some warning than left it loose on the terrace, Hasik,” Jesan said. Hasik glared at him, but held his tongue. Jesan was an older warrior, perhaps even forty winters, and the others in the group deferred to him in the absence of Kaval or the kai’Sharum. He was bleeding freely from where the demon had clawed his face, but he showed no sign of pain.
“You would not have been injured—” Hasik began, but Jesan cut him off.
“These will not be my first demon scars, Whistler,” he said, “and every one is a glory to be cherished. Now get back to your post. There are demons yet to kill this night.”
Hasik scowled, but he bowed. “As you say, the night is young,” he agreed. His eyes shot spears at Jardir as he left for his alcove.
“You get back to your post, too, boy,” Jesan said, clapping Jardir on the shoulder.
Dawn came at last, and all the company gathered at the demon pits to watch the alagai burn. Baha kad’Everam faced east, and the rising sun quickly flooded the valley. The demons howled in the pits as light filled the sky and their flesh began to smolder.
The insides of the dal’Sharum shields were polished to a mirror finish, and as Dama Khevat spoke a prayer for the souls of the Bahavans, one by one the warriors turned them to catch the light, angling rays down into the pits to strike the demons directly.
