by Alex Janaway
‘Devlin?’ asked Cade.
‘Just around there.’ The girl indicated with her head.
Cade carried on with Krste shadowing her. The bend continued, describing a semicircle around a large depression in the ground, it was marshy-looking and full of downed trees. At its eastward facing side she could see a number of skirmishers in cover. They appeared to be trading shots with an unseen enemy.
She found Devlin crouched behind a large tree, clutching his axe in one hand. He was surrounded by his fighters and was busy issuing orders. A little way ahead of them on the road were the bodies of dwarf riders. A horse, a bolt sticking from its hind quarters, lay on the ground and was snorting in pain as it tried to get back on its feet.
‘Hey! How’s it going?’ she asked, ducking down next to him.
Devlin looked at her in surprise. ‘What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?’
‘Taking a tour of the front,’ she quipped.
‘Not much to see. You should get back.’
‘Just tell me what’s happening.’
Devlin shook his head then pointed along the road. ‘We ambushed them as they came down this road. They are now spreading out trying to outflank us in the woods.’
‘How many of them?’ she asked.
‘Rearguard estimated about five hundred cavalry.’
‘Emperor!’ she hissed. She knew next to fuck all about military shit, but that number could annihilate them if they weren’t stopped.
‘He won’t help us when they decide to keep us pinned down and ride around us,’ he said, taking another peak around the tree. ‘Fuck!’ His head jerked back as a bolt shot past and disappeared into the bowl behind them. ‘I’ve got my people spread in a line through these woods. We’ll be able to hold them here for a while, but numbers will tell.’
‘Like you said. They must know what’s happening. They’ll work out the best way to hurt us,’ she said.
‘Happy to take suggestions,’ he said.
‘Fall back to the bridge. I’ve got wagons waiting at the far side. You get there, how long can you hold them?’
‘Hours. Until they bring up a mantlet or outflank us.’
‘Do it,’ she ordered.
Devlin reached out a hand and gripped her wrist. ‘We’re too strung out.’
‘I know.’
‘We’ll lose–’
‘I know! We don’t have a choice. Pull your people back. We need them. I’ll keep the bridge open as long as we can.’
Devlin’s face was grim. He let go of her wrist. ‘We’ll start pulling back.’
‘Good. Don’t get yourself bloody killed.’
She kept in a crouch as she moved away. A grunt of shock made her look right into the woods. A Tissan skirmisher was sprawled on the ground, a bolt buried in his chest. Too damned close. She stood as she reached the horses and broke into a run, Krste keeping pace. They re-emerged from the woods. If anything, the crush of humanity trying to get across the bridge had increased. A large crowd was forming, trying to push through the funnel of the bridge mouth. She could see more than a few folk lying on the ground, trampled in the crush. How was she going to get through that?
‘We need to clear a path.’
‘I hear you,’ said Krste. ‘We might have to start swinging.’
She could see the wagons waiting on the far side of the bridge. Sent already had the right idea. One of the wagons had been unhitched and turned over on to its side, at a slight angle to the river, the Tissans flowing around it. Most of those crossing hadn’t guessed what was going to happen next.
They reached the bridge and Miriam appeared from the crowd.
‘Sent signals he’s ready when you are.’
Cade did not know when she would be. How was she to know when to call it? Hundreds, thousands of folk were still on the wrong side of the river. The answer came quickly as, further north, she spied people begin to break from the mass heading south and enter the river. A great cry of alarm reached her, and the mass of humanity seemed to convulse and sway. Then it split apart as a group of cavalry hove into view, charging straight for the column, causing it to split into two. The dwarves were cutting off the escape route. Some chasing the northern half of the column and the rest coming south. Around her, word began to spread, and panicked Tissans started to push against those in front of them. Screaming and shouting swamped her hearing.
She grabbed Krste’s arm.
‘Come on, both of you.’
She led them around the expanding press of people trying to cross the bridge. With the loud snapping of wood, part of the side railings of the bridge fell away. A dozen people went with it into the water.
‘What are we doing, boss?’ asked Krste.
She wasn’t sure. She was winging it.
‘We need to stop that cavalry, or slow it down some!’ she shouted.
They covered the ground, a hundred yards or so, and Cade stopped them. The cavalry was heading straight towards them, mixed in among the humans. She watched spears driven into backs, swords and axes beating down on others. The spray of blood. And people falling. The ground was littered with bodies.
‘Here.’ She stopped and dropped to one knee, took aim with her crossbow at an approaching dwarf, and let fly. She missed by a mile. Next to her Krste swore.
‘Need to let them get closer,’ he said.
Cade dropped the crossbow and tried to haul the string back. Her shoulder was better but even so it howled. She looked at Miriam, who stood behind her, a hatchet in hand. ‘Reload this,’ she said, passing over her crossbow and the bag of bolts. Krste was already locking his string into position. Cade kept low and counted. Best guess, a dozen cavalry working their way towards the bridge. One rider was only thirty yards away.
‘Krste, that one!’
Krste stood and put the crossbow to his shoulder, squinting down its length. As the rider passed by he shot. The bolt hit the pony and it reared, throwing the rider to the ground. Cade reached into her boot and pulled out her blade. She sprung forward, sprinting towards the dwarf. Before he recovered, she leapt on to his chest, which was covered in thick leather and chain and started to stab downwards at the exposed flesh of his neck. The dwarf howled and flailed, pushing her off. She rolled away, expecting the dwarf to follow. Instead she saw Miriam standing over him, bringing her hatchet down on to his kneecap. The dwarf howled and arched his back in agony. Cade crawled back and drove her blade up and into the underside of his jaw. She rolled off him on to her sore shoulder.
‘Fucking hell!’
Miriam offered a hand and pulled her up. She still carried the crossbow.
‘I said to reload it!’ Cade shouted.
‘I don’t bloody know how!’ Miriam shouted back.
More people streamed by, as did the rest of the cavalry. Two were turning their mounts towards Cade’s little group.
‘Jump when they get near!’ she ordered, bracing herself.
The riders jerked their reins and angled away north. What? A rider took a bolt in the back and slumped forward.
She turned and looked at Krste. ‘Wasn’t me,’ he said.
Cade spotted figures emerging from the tree behind them. Devlin’s forces were pulling back. The other cavalry pursing the northern half of the column had not noticed yet and was continuing to wreak havoc. It was time to move.
Signalling to her companions, she started to run back to the bridge. She waved at the fighters from the woods.
‘Take them out! The riders. Kill them!’
On reaching the bridge she looked north. All the cavalry was withdrawing, leaving a carpet of slaughtered Tissans. A loose screen of skirmishers had formed up, likely dissuading them from operating alone against such huge numbers. That wouldn’t last.
From the woods a group of riders appeared, heading at full pelt for the bridge. Devlin pulled hard and halted in front of Cade.
‘That’s it. They’ll be after us.’
He looked at the crowd, and Cade followed his g
aze. The numbers were starting to thin. And further back, there was a big gap where the cavalry had split the column. That was it, their window of opportunity. Already the northern mass of Tissans had seen the respite and was turning south once more, though many were still braving the waters.
‘Devlin. Pull everyone back. I’m going to close the gate,’ she said.
Devlin handed over his reins to another rider. ‘Get the horses across and wait for me on the other side.’ He dismounted and pulled his axe from his back. ‘We’ll hold them here. It’s going to get messy. Don’t wait for us. ’
Cade nodded, slapped Krste and Miriam, and together they fell in behind the horses as they forced their way on to the bridge. Cade felt hot, sweating bodies pressing against her, was jostled by folk who barely registered she was there. Damn, but she could feel the panic. It was like some kind of sickness. It was all she could do to keep herself from losing it. Krste pushed past her, forcing others out of the way with threats and his swinging fists. As Cade fought to keep her balance, she looked over the edge of the bridge. It was a disturbing sight. As heads bobbed down the Tuul, it reminded her of leaves flowing down an autumn stream. There were so many.
She reached the far side of the bridge and pushed her way out from the flow of people. She found Sent waiting by the wagons, again, the draft animals already unhitched.
‘You see what’s coming?’ she asked him.
He nodded.
‘Get ready.’
Cade climbed on to a wagon that had already been turned on to its side. There it was. A large force of cavalry was coming from the north, emerging from the end of the woods. Devlin was concentrating his fighters into a shrinking ring around the far side, as Tissans pushed through the gaps. Hundreds more were trying to reach the bridge ahead of the cavalry. ‘Shit.’ They wouldn’t make it.
She turned to look at Sent. ‘Get them in place.’
Sent started to say something, but thought better of it. Good. There was nothing else to say.
She stepped back as the next wagon was rolled in front of the bridge. Indignant shouts greeted it as the last few fleeing Tissans struggled round the edges.
‘Tip it over!’ Sent shouted.
His crew got their hands over the wagon, and with a deal of shouting and grunting they hauled it up and over the side. It wasn’t a clean seal. Far from it. People were able to squeeze through either side. Cade watched as more riders appeared on the road from the south, finally completing their envelopment. Devlin’s fighters were now pushing over the bridge, while a knot of crossbow skirmishers held the far end, trading shots with the cavalry. The last wagon was pushed into place and turned over on the left side of the bridge exit, creating a crude barricade that had flank cover. Cade’s teeth were picking at her lower lip as all that was left for her to do was witness the last of the Tissans fleeing to the bridge. Watch as the cavalry smashed into them, carving up people left and right. Bodies falling to the ground. And still they ran. At the far end, Devlin’s group were taking heavier fire as the cavalry in the woods and the south dismounted and took up sniping positions. On the bridge, a skirmisher fell into the water. A thought struck Cade.
‘Sent. We have a lot of people in the river. And some of them can swim.’
The Plainsman nodded. ‘I know. I’ve sent some wagons south. We’ll try and pick up as many as we can.’
‘Alright.’
‘She turned her attention back to the bridge. Devlin was falling back, keeping his people together. Fighters were scrambling around the gap on either side of the central wagon. They were carrying on, following the survivors. What were they doing? She needed them here! She cupped her hands and called to Devlin.
‘Why are they running?’
Devlin looked up and waved a hand, pointing at the wagons. She shook her head and jumped down to meet him as he squeezed through.
‘No need for everyone here, Cade. You only need a small detachment to hold this position. I’m keeping this lot here,’ he said, indicating a knot of fighters who were now positioning themselves on and around the wagons.
‘Let’s take a look,’ he said. Together they climbed back on to the right hand wagon.
‘Keep your head low,’ he advised. The bridge was momentarily clear. On the far side, a few surviving Tissans started to reach the bridge. In their wake were scores of bodies and the cavalry, pursuing scattered pockets and individuals, riding them down mercilessly. The cavalry by the wood and those to the south made no effort to close the distance, they were content to use their bows.
Cade watched as more Tissans fell to cavalry and crossbows. She counted those making the bridge. She counted every one. Twenty three. Twenty three made it through the barricade. Weeping, sweating and bleeding.
‘That’s it,’ said Devlin quietly.
They watched in silence for a time. Cade lacked the energy to do anything else. The dwarves moved among the Tissans, finishing off those still living. Others took to building fires, setting up small camps just in the treeline. There was some kind of industry happening within the woods. She could hear the sound of chopping wood. Seven Hells, it seemed almost peaceful.
‘What now?’ Cade asked.
‘We regroup,’ said Devlin.
‘How long will it take?’ she asked.
Devlin scratched his beard. ‘If the maps are right – and I ain’t putting too much trust in them – a day and a half to the next crossing. And they might already have riders heading there right now. As I said, they might try and rush us here, but why bother? So, you get a day.’
Not enough. Cade looked behind her. ‘Miriam, you’ve seen those maps. Is there anything west of here?’
Miriam thought intently for a moment. ‘I recall we passed through a bunch of little places. Like where we got branded. There’s bound to be a ruined village or something on this road.’
‘Fine. Where’s Evan. He buggered off?’
‘He’s way over there,’ said Krste pointing to a small gathering of wagons and horses a hundred yards away.
Cade gazed at a broken line of staggering humans winding their way along the road and into the distance. From the south, more bedraggled souls, those that had made the river crossing, trudged to join the line.
‘Who’s running that lot?’ she asked.
Devlin touched her shoulder. ‘You, now get gone. Reach the head of the line and start telling people what to do. Believe me, they’ll be grateful for it.’
Cade nodded. ‘We’ll keep on the road. I’ll find a place to stop when it gets dark.’
‘I’ll stay here, keep them short-arsed bastards interested. If they don’t try anything, we’ll pull out at dawn tomorrow.’
Devlin squeezed her shoulder then beckoned over one of his fighters.
Cade stood, pointing at Krste and Miriam.
‘Go fetch Evan. I’ll be there in a minute.’
She walked across to Sent.
‘So many dead.’ He sounded distant, staring behind them.
‘And we are alive.’
Sent inclined his head.
‘Let’s get ahead of this thing. When we set up camp, I want fires, and I want food distributed. No arguments.’
‘Yes. I understand.’
‘Good.’
She started to walk away.
‘Cade?’
‘What?’
‘You know where we are?’
She grinned.
‘Up shit creek?’
He smiled sadly. ‘We are in Tissan. We made it.’
Cade looked at him for a moment. Made it? Made it how? Was dying here any better than dying in the mines? It depended on who you asked. Those they’d left behind, those still running for their lives, those who had been killed by spear or had risked drowning, they probably couldn’t tell you the difference.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – FILLION
Fillion adjusted his belt as he walked, giving it a downwards tug. He felt nervous. A state of being he had not felt since his first days in the
capital. He had become so inured to playing his role that the day to day usually held no fears. And he supposed that perhaps it was because of the role he played, that his reaction was so extreme. It was not often that a Servant was summoned to accompany their Member to the Palace.
It waited ahead of them at the end of the boulevard, rearing into the sky on its pillars of living wood. He had once likened it to a spider, lording over its web. That perspective had shifted somewhat – now it felt more like a spider rearing to strike, and he was striding right towards it. Who wouldn’t experience a sense of trepidation heading towards such a dangerous beast? It just so happened the danger only really manifested when you were inside the monster.
‘Sabin, stop fidgeting,’ commanded Patiir, marching beside him with his hands clasped behind his back, all purpose.
Fillion bit back a retort. He had to keep it together. Finally, after all the months of ingratiating himself into elven society, all the things he had had to endure, the constant play-acting, the feigned deference, the humility. It had all been for this one reason. To gain access to the Palace, to realise his last, great act of resistance. As they covered the last hundred yards he reflected on his first visit, his first reconnoitre really, to this place. Even then he had no real clear plan, only a dream. And reflecting on how daunted he had been by the towering monstrosity that confronted him, he really had never had any idea how he was going to achieve it. He had been winging it, improvising, and trying to keep alive ever since. And somehow, through blind luck, he was here. And he was shitting himself.
They arrived at the gate used for dignitaries. It was surprisingly unostentatious: two doors half again as high as an elf, framed within a wall of bark, were carved with simple fluting leaf patterns, and without any reinforcing bands. Like the city itself, defence was considered a foolish concept. They were still mighty thick, at least six inches of solid wood. And this was the King’s Palace; a guard was stationed on either side of the entrance and a third bearing only a sheathed sword waited in front of the portal. This one, a female, stepped forward as Fillion and Patiir approached.
