פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ
Chapter Six: Getty's Canyon
Lawe Cathon rubbed the tarnished watchglass on his cloak and fitted it to his eye. He studied the land before him and grimaced. Even with the watchglass, all he could see was fractured ground as far as can be seen, spiderwebbed with league-wide crevasses and irregular crags. He removed the watchglass and unrolled a yellow-edged map from his saddlebag.
"Is there a way across?" Nathen asked. The Band of Red Hand had stopped at the lip of the lip of the giant mess of fissures, patiently waiting for a decision.
Lawe Cathon tugged at his beard thoughtfully, his fingers gliding across the rough paper, "These fissures go for leagues across. I wonder what happened here. It is as if a giant fist pounded the land into submission. That canyon in front of us appears to be the only feasible way across."
"Getty's Canyon."
Cathon glanced around to see Airena glancing over his shoulder. Her black-armored warder rode silently behind her. Since the pair had joined them when the Band had passed through Mafal Dadaranell a year past, Cathon had never seen the face of the gaidin, who kept his visage always shielded by his slitted visor. Cathon had never caught his name, and the warder had never offered it, and so Cathon just referred to him as The Warder. Warder apparently accepted that and would respond to it, with his echoing metallic voice that was hard to place.
"Yes, Getty's Canyon. You know it?" Cathon arched his eyebrow.
"The explorer Dravo Getty. Known in all circles as particularly cocky and rash. Being such, he decided to map the Blasted Lands one day. Not unexpectedly, he did not return. A van of Aramaellean scouts on patrol found a half-buried map accredited to Getty. This canyon was the last thing drawn, and well, the Aramaelleans named the canyon after him. His tomb if you will."
"One immense tomb." Nathen noted.
Cathon looked down at the map again, deep in thought. A large sinister spire of Shayol Ghul was inked on the map, a whim of the mapper most likely, as Cathon doubted anyone had ever been foolish enough to map it.
"General!" A soldier rode up at a trot, his hand holding a small square of paper.
"A pigeon?" Cathon wheeled his gelding around.
"Just flew in, sir." The soldier gave the sheet to the Marshall-General, and saluted. He nudged his horse and returned to his banner.
Cathon glanced down at the paper for a second and shivers ran up his spine.
"Light!" Cathon grimaced, "it's from Mafal Dadaranell. They're under attack. Some treachery. Spawns breached through outer and inner walls."
Airena snatched the message from Cathon, "But it would take a massive host to take down that city. I doubt if even one of your legions could overrun Mafal Keep. It's dated two weeks ago."
"They must have let loose all their pigeons with this message," Nathen said, "By your orders, general, we have stopped sending them our positions due to our assault. This is a desperate act. Only sheer luck let the pigeon find us."
"How far are we from Mafal Dadaranell?" Cathon asked.
"It would take us a month at the least. Hard march and all of our remaining resources." The adjutant replied truthfully.
"Then whatever has happened there has already happened. Let us hope they have found reinforcements in time." Cathon said grimly. He did not like it, but he was going to have to accept it. "We must forge on."
Cathon glanced at Airena, who was still staring at the message. Cathon knew that there were Aes Sedai in Mafal Dadarenell. But the Tower was no man's business, as Airene had lectured Cathon often enough. So he said nothing. But the time for hesitation was over.
"The Band marches. To be safe, separate legions in vans. Send some pickets out in front." Cathon said, nudging his horse forward. The order rippled through the ranks, and like a waking beast, the Band started to move. Every time, Cathon felt heady at having two hundred thousand men at his back and command. No one was immune to the allures of power. But still he knew that it might not be enough for their task ahead.
Cathon glanced at the ground as the Band descended down into Getty's Canyon. This path seemed to be the more level based on initial scout reports. It was a mild incline, but could still prove to be dangerous for a horse and his rider. His brown gelding half slid and half walked down the cracked slope into the canyon.
Cathon studied the chasm named after the doomed explorer. It was perhaps a league wide and five leagues long, with tall canyon walls whose height rivaled the Dhoroms itself, the western part casting a shadow across half the valley. He felt an itch at the back of his neck, and his eyes instinctively drew down to a red-gold container hanging at the side of his steed. But still, even that act did not reassure him, and he felt even tenser. He had been jumping at shadows since they started this quest, and he needed to hold his composure for the men.
His horse seemed to be agitated as well, whuffing and rolling his eyes. Cathon patted it reassuringly and wondered if it was too late to pick a different path. Cathon had now ridden almost to the midpoint of the Canyon, sinking into the shadows cast by the cliff walls. He glanced back and saw that the entire Band of Red Hand had entered Getty's canyon, bracketed between two unscalable walls.
A voice inside Cathon was yelling incoherently at him, telling him something was wrong. Cathon glanced up at the colossal walls, but saw nothing except heat waves. His gelding suddenly stopped, interrupting Cathon's scrutiny. Cathon glanced down and saw the horse's front hoof centered in the depression of a giant clawed footprint that he could have sworn was not there a few seconds prior.
"Perimeters, North and South! Now! Recall the scouts!" Cathon shouted, twisting his horse around.
"Shadowspawns." Airene spoke a split-second later, leashed tension in her normally serene voice.
The Band halted and immediately rippled outwards. A split-second later, monstrous heads appeared over the canyon walls, thousands upon thousands, looking down from all sides.
The air at the far end of the canyon rippled and countless Trollocs stuffed the exit. Cathon glanced back and saw another massive host coming in to block the south entrance.
"Impossible." Airene said. There was a flicker of alarm in her eyes. "They've got a Dreadlord. A skilled one. Perhaps more."
"Where's our scouts?" Nathen shouted.
"Most likely dead. Or wishing they were." Cathon grimaced and nudged his horses in towards the center of the perimeter, as soldiers raced past him. His eyes took in their situation and saw that it was a difficult one. No, an impossible one. They were trapped between two massive walls to the side and two hosts on either exit.
The Band could hold them off, but not for long. Not for long.
As Cathon shouted out his orders, his voice was silenced by the crackle of thunder. From the clear sky, lightning bolts slashed in along the ranks, and the Shadowspawns from both ends closed in upon the trapped Band.
פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ