Uriel: The Price (Airel Saga Book Six)

Chapter VIII

Arabia, 788 B.C.

THE BROTHERHOOD FORCES WERE SLAMMING against the gates, against the walls; they were everywhere at once. The captain of the watch issued the call for every able body to come to the aid of the warriors at the walls, whether man, angel, or halfbreed.

Cries rang out across the gathering night as Yamanu and his cohort approached. He heard the captain on the wall below. "Brace the gate! They are bringing fire!"

Yamanu, Zedkiel, and Veridon wheeled in the air high above the action, and the scene below them was not encouraging. Demon Brothers harnessed to heavy siege works by iron chains pulled, straining to wheel them to the base of the walls. Of these, Yamanu could see that the horde had fashioned at least four ballistae, crossbows so huge that they could fire bolts the size of small trees. The first one had already launched the opening salvo, a beam of wood the breadth of a man's shoulders and five times his height, the tip of which had been honed to a point, slathered in bitumen, and set ablaze prior to release. It struck the wall beside the gate and held fast for a moment in the joint between several stones, burning and sending flames upward until it fell under its own weight. It rolled back and away, setting the scrub of the forest afire.

The next engine of war released its deadly projectile, this one striking the main gates. It caused them to shudder violently under its impact, its sharp tip piercing one of the cubit-thick assemblies of planks of which the gates had been built. The blazing bitumen went to work, and the gate began to burn.

More bolts flew as the angels descended from the air to the top of the wall. One more bolt struck the gate while two others flew wild and bounced off impotently.

Yamanu lit on the wall's fighting top, looking around. Already, the horde had erected their breaching ladders and was ascending. Why are they only in human form, and where are the demons? Some had reached the battlements and were beginning to squeeze in between the merlons onto the parapet walk. "Veridon, behind you!" Yamanu drew steel, pointing behind his friend and ally.

Veridon spun on his foe with the powerful mace, a spiked orb tethered by a chain to a rod of iron, dropping the foul man by smashing his brains into tiny bits. "Yamanu, we need a little help from your shadowing arts, old friend." Veridon moved toward the next intruder.

Yamanu nodded. "I am working on it," he said, running his sword through and killing the next unfortunate enemy to ascend onto the wall walk of the barbican, the gatehouse of the city. He felt at once the drain as the horde gained ground. This battle was going to be hard to win if they were all weakened by the draw of the Brotherhood and unable to fight. "Zedkiel," he called out, "how are the archers faring?"

Zed landed not far away, having come from checking in with the captain of the watch. He shook his head.

Not good. Yamanu took a moment to breathe and focus. How could he turn back so many? He tried to manifest the fog around them, but it was like using a cold spark to try to ignite wet timber. Something is wrong. Yamanu remembered how, so many years ago, he and his Shadowers had been sold out to the former Seer, and he also remembered who was his prime suspect. Anael. This is treachery most vile. "Veridon! We must stand and fight them hand to hand. I cannot draw the shadow over us." He hacked a hand off as it reached through the embrasure in the wall beside him. "Something is wrong."

He turned away from the wall toward the heart of the city and beheld sweeping red pulses of lightning striking over it, drawing closer to his position. It was Anael. He was using black arts to destroy the city from the rear, while the main Brotherhood force crashed against the wall upon which he stood.

Kreios, we could use a little help here. I hope you have not abandoned us utterly.

* * *

KREOIS WAS ALREADY ON his way, streaking across a high black sky above the atmosphere from halfway around the globe. He had sensed imminent danger for quite some time. Only now had his sense of duty finally outweighed the reluctance he had long felt toward his kin.