The Crippled God

these things mean? What is resolved? No one can say. A god has died, Destriant, and that death tastes bitter and it fills me with sorrow .’
    Kalyth saw how the K’Chain Che’Malle, momentarily stunned, now resumed their assault upon the highest defences of the Kolansii. She saw the defenders rise to meet the Ve’Gath.
    A god dies. And the fighting simply goes on, and we add to the rain with blood of our own. I am seeing the history of the world – here, before me. I am seeing it all, age upon age. All so … useless .
    There was low laughter behind her, cutting through the dull roar, and Kalyth turned.
    Sinn had stripped naked, and now she was painted in blood. ‘The Pure has made a shining fist,’ she said. ‘To block the ascent. The lizards cannot break it – their oils are fouled with exhaustion.’ Her eyes lifted to Kalyth. ‘Tell them to disengage. Order them to retreat.’
    She walked past.
    The Imass reeled back. The Kolansii heavy infantry pushed forward, over Imass corpses. With shields and armour they weathered blows from stone weapons. With iron sword, axe and spear, they tore apart unprotected flesh, and on all sides the rain of blood – cooled now, lifeless – hammered down.
    Driven past the remains of the village, the Imass forces contracted, unable to hold the enemy back. Pincers swept out to either side, seeking to encircle the increasingly crowded, disorganized warriors. Onos Toolan sought to hold the centre in the front line – he alone remembered what it was to defend his own body – now so vulnerable, so frail. His kin had … forgotten. They attacked unmindful of protecting themselves, and so they died.
    Reborn, only to live but moments. The anguish of this threatened to tear the First Sword apart. But he was only one man, as mortal as his brothers and sisters now, and it was only a matter of time before—
    He saw the Kolansii line opposite him flinch back suddenly, saw them hesitate, and Onos Toolan did not understand.
    Low, deep laughter sounded from somewhere on his right, and even as he turned, a voice spoke.
    ‘Imass, we greet you.’
    Now, pushing through to stand in the foremost line – Jaghut .
    Armoured, helmed, bristling with weapons, all of it dripping blood.
    The Jaghut beside Onos Toolan then said in a loud voice, ‘Suvalas! Are you as beautiful as I remembered?’
    A female shouted in answer, ‘You only remember what I told you, Haut! And it was all lies!’
    Amid Jaghut laughter, the one named Haut tilted his head to regardOnos Toolan. ‘To draw breath was unexpected. We thought to fight with you – two lifeless but eternally stubborn peoples. A day of slaughter, hah!’
    The Jaghut beyond Haut then said, ‘And slaughter it shall be! Alas, the wrong way round! And there are but fourteen of us. Aimanan – you are good with numbers! Does fourteen dead Jaghut constitute a slaughter?’
    ‘With five thousand Imass, I would think so, Gedoran!’
    ‘Then our disappointment is averted and I am once more at ease!’
    The Jaghut drew weapons. Beside Onos Toolan, Haut said, ‘Join us, First Sword. If we must die, must it be on the back step? I think not.’ His eyes flashed from the shadows of his helm. ‘First Sword – do you see? Forkrul Assail, K’Chain Che’Malle, Imass and now Jaghut! What a fell party this is!’
    Gedoran grunted and said, ‘All we now need are a few Thel Akai, Haut, and we can swap old lies all night long!’
    And then, with bull roars, the Jaghut charged the Kolansii.
    Onos Toolan leapt forward to join them, and behind him, the Imass followed.
    Gillimada, who had been chosen to lead because she was the most beautiful, looked back on the way they’d come. She could barely make out the Barghast. ‘They are slow!’
    ‘If only you were taller, Gilli,’ bellowed her brother, Gand, ‘you could look the other way and see the fighting!’
    Scowling, Gillimada faced forward again. ‘I was about to – impatient runt, Gand! Everyone, enough resting – we shall run some more. Do you all see?’
    ‘Of course we do,’ shouted one of her brother’s mouthy friends, ‘we’re all taller than you, Gilli!’
    ‘But who’s the most beautiful? Exactly!’
    ‘Gilli – there are Jaghut with those Imass!’
    Gillimada squinted, but the truth of it was, she was the shortest one here. ‘Are they killing each other?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Good! All the old stories are lies!’
    ‘Surely just that one, Gilli—’
    ‘No! If one is a lie then all