Twenty-Eight - The Battle Of Tallarin

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In the moments that followed the chime of the bell, there was eerie silence. Then pandemonium.

The noise of scared, innocent people searching for safety was deafening, and no number of Riders and Lavorians would be enough to bring order.

"What do we do?" Oracus shouted over the screams.

"There's no time to assist these people now," Kivali replied. "They know what to do when the bell rings. We must prepare ourselves for battle."

"My armour is in my room," Oracus said. "And so is my sword."

"Then don your armour and retrieve your sword," Kivali ordered. "I'll see you at the wall."

Oracus wasted no time. In minutes, he was bundling through the door to his quarters with Bandor close behind him. Inside, he quickly acquired his armour, which was as blue as the sky – except today the sky outside his window was full of dark clouds; it seemed even the weather felt Tallarin's misery. When Oracus's sword and dagger were sheathed at his belt, and his quiver, bow and shield were hanging over his shoulders, he left the palace and headed through the streets towards the wall. The rain began to fall on Tallarin, and the smell of waste rose from the sewers like never before.

It took Oracus a long time to reach the wall. The streets of Tallarin were unrecognisable under the shadow of war. He had to push through frightened families who were running for the shelter of the palace, and past soldiers who didn't know whether to help the innocents or assemble for battle. At the wall, thousands of soldiers looked exactly as Oracus did. Blue armour beneath a grey sky and a black wall. They stood side by side, rows and rows of them, and more joined the ranks as time went on.

Kivali and Onca were at the very base of the wall facing the troops. They stood with Wilos and Dyma and their two Lavorians, inspiring the fighters with their presence. Wilos's Lavorian was called Edinuc, a Rhino the size of Onca. Huadlan was an Orangutan, the smallest Lavorian Oracus had met, and his arms wrapped around Dyma's neck like a scarf.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" he said as he strode towards them.

There was a rumble of noise that sounded like thunder.

"I can hear Jowra's forces marching across the sand," Kivali noted. "They're almost here."

"Are we ready?" Oracus asked.

"Shio is organising the archers on the wall. He's in that tower." Kivali pointed to the watchtower that stood on the top of the wall. "I doubt it will be long before we fire on them."

"Can I go up there?"

"Be my guest," Kivali returned. "But you won't like what you see."

Alone, Oracus climbed the stairs inside the wall. It took him almost ten minutes to ascend the wall, and another five to reach the top of the watchtower. There, Shio stood with a handful of his finest archers, and all along the battlements below them were hundreds more.

Oracus unhooked his bow from his shoulder and offered Shio a light nod. "I guess this is what you trained us for," he said.

"Yet I always hoped the day would never come," Shio replied. "It's quite an army he's sent."

Oracus looked beyond the balustrade at the world beneath, and gasped. Left and right there were slopes leading to mountains, but in front there was nothing but sand. On the sand, a force marched forwards in a spectacular formation that was almost as intimidating as its size.

A wall the height of Tallarin's seemed not to daunt an army with Mammat at the fore. The Elephant matched the wall for immensity, and it was only because Oracus stood atop the watchtower that he could look down upon the beast. On Mammat's head stood Zarad, just far enough away that Oracus couldn't see the paint on his face. And far beneath them, Gravaz and Lapsin strode forwards with urgency.

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