Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 49
Among the trees The Wind-dancers waited, silent and alert for the prey's approach. They were spread out across a wide swathe of the Everforest, a net cast over the lands between the Mon-Keigh landing site and the Vale of Midnight Tears. Young and old, male and female, hunters and gathers and weavers and crafters, every soul that could ride a Drake was present. So they waited, eager to drive these interlopers from their world and punish them for daring to desecrate their sacred forest.
Among their number Elhyn clung to Ilfavor's back and scoured his field of vision for the first sign of the invaders. In one hand was Wyrmfang, the potent weapon thrumming with potential energy and the other gripped the ridges of his drake with steady confidence. The Drake was impatient, fidgeting and occasionally snapping at stray branches that blew into his face. Elhyn reached through their communion and projected ease and solemnity to his mount but the Drake bristled and cawed, "Attack. Attack now."
"Patience," Elhyn breathes, "They will come to us, this is certain."
"Don't like waiting," Ilfavor hissed.
"Neither do I," Elhyn concurred with a faint grin.
He lifted his eyes and saw the Wind-dancers waiting among the green leaves, cunningly hidden so none without the sharp eyes of his race would see them. Hundreds of Drakes lurked impatiently, their many riders armed with bows and spears and slings. Such weapons may appear feeble but they were deceptively strong, especially when combined with the lethal accuracy of the Eldar. With such weapons they had driven off filthy Mon-keigh, roving Orks, brutish Tallestrians and ravenous K'nib. Chief among the gathered forces was his mother, the Dynast just visible with her silver Drake which bore a rare Bright Lance, bought at great cost from the Craftworlders. Elhyn was surprised she had agreed to stage this ambush but she had not hesitated to give the order, the Mon-Keigh had arrived earlier than anticipated and the Kinmoot was two days away. The Wind-dancers had to oppose this invasion of their lands, lest the forbidden borders of the Vale of Midnight Tears be violated.
Further along the branches waited his companions. Panthiro with his great bow held ready, to use it in flight was dangerous but he would fly with confidence despite having no handholds. M'sgith held her whip coiled at her side and she would surely use it well. E'raye had gathered her caches of nuts, each one ready to shatter upon command. Together the Wind-dancers presented a formidable array of strength, their wings would fill the sky with sleek death and their cries would ring unto the moons. All that remained to be seen is if they alone could defeat the invaders.
Elhyn's thoughts were interrupted by a low roar, a rasping mechanical howl unlike any sound heard on Athelling. He returned his gaze downwards and saw a flight of lumpy metallic craft cutting through the air. They were uniformly grey and blunt-nosed things, with unlovely angles and they rode upon blasting swathes of downward thrust. They moved without regard for wind or air currents, utterly ignoring the symmetry of the Everforest. Yet they carried potent weapons, the short stubby barrels of projectile guns and the las-spears that other races so favoured. First came a trio of narrow hulled craft, followed by waves of bulkier vessels, far more than Elhyn had anticipated and he swallowed as he realised the scale of the threat.
Ilfavor shifted beneath him, muscles bunching up in readiness to pounce but Elhyn steadied him for a moment longer. He looked to his Dynast, awaiting her word to attack. All the Wind-dancers held their breath as the first of the Mon-Keith vanguard passed under them, then the bulk of their forces were in the trap and the cry went forth, "Strike now my kin!"
"Fly!" Elhyn cried as his Drake spread his wings and leapt from his perch. They burst from the canopy five hundred metres above the Mon-Keigh craft and Elhyn was elated to see the dumb apes had no idea they were there. Ilfavor swept his wings once then tucked them in tight as they dove for the lines of grey machines. Elhyn felt himself become weightless as they plunged, the wind stabbing into his eyes and pulling his features back in a rictus grin. Four hundred metres to go and the invaders had still not responded, blind to the incoming attack. Their speed increased as they passed three hundred metres, diving at a terrific pace. At two hundred metres the Mon-Keigh finally responded, trying to point stubby guns upwards but their craft's design was intended to fire downwards and their arcs were poor. Elhyn was elated to realise the first blood would go to his kinband and his pulse thundered in his ears from exhilaration and giddy anticipation. At one hundred metres he raised Wyrmfang high and braced himself for contact as they stooped upon a wallowing transport. Then Ilfavor dashed past the ugly machine at terrific speed and Elhyn felt his spear move in perfect harmony with his arm, sweeping about in a glittering arc to sheer the wing off their target.
Ilfavor's wings snapped out and Elhyn clung on for all he was worth as a jarring wrench sought to throw him from his seating. The Drake was still plummeting downwards, diving for the underbrush far below. Ilfavor fought to climb out of his dive and Elhyn thought his slender frame would be crushed but slowly their dive was brought to a halt, leaving them soaring along at tremendous speed. Elhyn twisted to gaze back and saw the craft he had hit falling like a stone, trailing flame and smoke from a broken wing. The bulky vessel was spinning wildly and in its death throes it spilled helpless Mon-Keigh from the open doors in its sides, their yellow uniforms stained by soot and smoke. They flailed wildly and screamed as they plummeted towards the ground below, doomed to certain death upon impact.
Elhyn looked up and saw madness and fire in the air. Streaming clouds of Drakes circled the invaders, a dizzying confusion of wings and cackling maws. Their riders struck out with spear and bow, lashing the crude machines with bevvies of darting blows. They had not overshot as Elhyn had but clung tight to the invaders, seeking to sow discord and alarum, their natural weapons could not penetrate metal hides but so great was Eldar eyesight that they struck open doors, wing thrusters and engine intakes regardless. The Mon-Keigh responded with thundering guns and flashing light, seeking to blast the Wind-dancers from the sky. The lumbering transports were stuck in rigid lines and from their open side doors primitives in yellow uniforms swung their weapons about as they blasted wildly. Elsewhere sleeker craft dove into the swirling Drakes, their agile forms chasing flapping beasts across the sky.
Amid that bedlam Panthiro soared straight at a transport, the pair closing at astonishing speed. The craft flashed a spear of light at him but the frantic pilot missed and as his Drake beat beneath him he drew back his bow and let fly a single shot. Driven by his strength and speed the shaft shattered the window before the pilot and stabbed into his heart, killing him instantly and sending his heavily laden transport into a nose-first plummet to the ground. Elsewhere M'sgith and E'raye dodged streams of tracers, their quick hands sending return strikes to harass the Mon-Keigh braced in the open doors. Then through the madness came Celasia, the Dynast's silver Drake coasting along as if on a leisurely jaunt. Behind her a secondary gunner swung a Bright Lance about on its fitted stand and unleashed a spear of energy far more potent than the crude Mon-Keigh weapons. A transport exploded in mid-air, falling out of formation in a shooting star made of dirty flames.
The Eldar attack had fallen upon the invaders most ferociously but they were far from beaten. Brutish figures bellowed as they fired back, catching several Drakes in their crossfires and sending them tumbling to the ground. Faster craft dove and roared amongst them, their dances with evading Drakes describing a ballet of destruction. Elhyn was below the swirling carnage and he could see the devastation unfolding, Ilfavor beat his wings to climb and the young warrior gripped his spear tight as they rose towards another lumbering transport. The foolish gunners fixated on the dashing shapes all around and failed to see him coming and Elhyn's lips drew back in anticipation of the kill.
A moment before he made contact he was rudely interrupted by a hail of silver discs, passing so close he felt their backdraft. Ilfavor cawed in distress and broke right but as he did so Elhyn saw another Mon-Keigh hanging out of a transport further over. This one was different from the rest, for he was wielding a pair of beautiful shuriken pistols and was dressed in flamboyant attire, richer and more finely crafted than his kin. Elhyn knew Mon-Keigh relied on displays of colour to denote authority, like greedy magpyr birds, the shinier the braiding the more senior the rank. This one must be a high leader-beast in their esteem, to be dressed and armed so.
Elhyn was nearly decapitated by another burst and was only saved as Ilfavor jerked left then right. More rounds chased him, cutting off his avenues of escape and he thought for a moment his end had come. Yet just as he ran out of space another intervened, it was E'raye and she flew past the transport in a diving attack, her skilled hands sending a fragmenting nut into a gaping air intake. The craft blew out clouds of smoke as it lurched in the air, struggling to stay aloft on one engine and Elhyn broke free, leaving the leader-beast behind.
With a moment to spare he looked up and saw that The Wind-dancers has struck a most grievous blow and slain many invaders, but they had failed to break apart the Mon-keigh defences. Despite the bold attack the invaders had held true to their rigid formation and kept their forces in order. Now ranks of projectile weapons were blazing in concert, sectioning the sky and forming deadly traps. Drakes swirled and danced around the flashing tracers but they were too many and there was not enough room left to manoeuvre. Before Elhyn's eyes drakes were falling in bloody tangles of torn wings and broken bodies, their riders tumbling helplessly to their deaths far below. Precious lives Elhyn had known for centuries were cut short, their noble spirits no defence against the power of massed projectile weaponry. Through the melee the swifter vanguard craft flashed, blitzing the Drakes with spears of light and thundering guns. The sky was filled with flashing wings and roaring guns, the battle hung upon a knife-edge and the slightest thing could tip it either way, then they came.
From the midst of the Mon-Keigh formation charged forth a pair of machines, larger faster and deadlier than their kin. Unlike the others these were orange-hued and their flanks were hung with many guns. They rode forth like a Leviatatius charging into a herd of prey beasts, their sharp fangs ripping and tearing. Guns thundered independently, chopping the air apart as they tracked and swivelled and under their cruel touch half a dozen Eldar were struck down. Their affront did not go unanswered, for the Dynast's Drake rose in a challenge, her Bright Lance flaring with power. A spear of energy struck the lead craft and caused it to wobble dangerously in the sky, it's nose marred by a terrible furrow but to the shock of all it did not fall, it's hide was proof against such power. Elhyn gasped at the sight, the raw brutal power on display. These craft had turned the tide of the battle and the Wind-dancers had nothing that could match them, this was a fight they could not win.
Celasia affirmed that truth a heartbeat later as she cried, "Fallback! Everybody withdraw!" The cry rang out to all and instantly the Wind-dancers broke away, sweeping about on broad wings to race away in all directions. The Mon-Keigh were taken by surprise and did not know which way to fire as the Eldar scattered, confused as to which direction to give chase. Elhyn made to follow them, steering Ilfavor away but as he did so he spied something odd. One last transport was tumbling from the air, trailing smoke and flame from a damaged engine. It was the very same as had carried that leader-beast, the gaudily clad one with the shuriken pistols. Indeed the brute was hanging out the door, eyes wide and yelling for help as his transport plummeted beneath him. For an instant Elhyn considered letting him tumble to his death but then abruptly changed direction, diving after the falling craft. There was no consideration of mercy or compassion in this act, the leader would have vital knowledge of the invader's plans and capabilities. Knowledge the Wind-dancers needed to reverse their fate.
The transport was falling fast, spewing black smoke but Ilfavor was faster, plunging down with mighty sweeps of his broad wings. Together they fell, machine and Drake, racing to see who could fall faster and to the victor would come certain death. The Mon-keigh saw them coming and instinctively reached out for help, uncaring of where it originated. The ground was looming large in Elhyn's eyes but he stretched out his arm and snagged the Mon-Keigh from the open door, dragging him onto the Drake's back. Instantly Ilfavor pulled up, leaving the burning transport to slam into the ground in a dirty fireball.
The wind nearly tore the pair off the Drake's back but Elhyn held them both in place, gripping with his knees. Finally they levelled out a mere dozen metres from the forest floor and the invader blinked in surprise as he saw who had rescued him. The alien gulped as he stammered in his crude tongue, "I… I thank you. I am Saffor…"
Elhyn silenced him with a sharp and sudden grip around his throat and as they fled the battle he hissed in the uncouth language, "I care not, try to escape and I will drop you to your death. You only breathe to tell me of these invaders, show me how to defeat these interlopers and you may live to spread a warning to the rest of your miserable kin. Hold your tongue and you die by my hand."