“Mari has saved me many times,” Alain said.
“Ha ha,” Mari whispered. “Quiet, everyone. Here we go.”
With all of the Mechanics, Apprentices, and Mages seated in the boats, the sailors cast off and began rowing away from the landing, north and west to gain a little distance off the coast, then straight north to where the swamp jutted out into one side of the harbor. Behind them lanterns flickered low on the waterfront of Pacta Servanda, invisible to Raul’s sentries on the other side of the town wall but providing navigational references so the sailors could tell whether they were going in the right direction.
Mari, staring into the night with dark water surrounding them and the vague blackness of land off to the right, realized just how important those lights were. The stars above gave a little light, but they were screened by a layer of high clouds, while the crescent moon would provide little illumination even after it rose. Without the lights on the waterfront, she would not have had any idea where she was, let alone which direction she should go.
Rags had been stuffed into the oarlocks, but nevertheless the muffled creaking sounds made by the oars sounded far too loud to Mari, as did the faint splashing of water as they rowed. Normally the oars would be lifted between strokes, making it easy to draw the oar back through the air for another sweep through the water. But oars breaking the water’s surface repeatedly would have made a lot of noise, so the rowers kept the oars in the water, twisting them for the return stroke so the flat paddles met little resistance, then twisting them again so the paddles were upright and propelled the boats forward on the sweep. It was a lot more work, but a lot quieter.
Mari jerked with surprise as something darker than the night obscured the sky just above her head. She looked around, realizing that her boat must be nosing into the swamp, feeling its way forward through partially submerged trees and other obstacles.
The swamp stank of salt and decaying matter. Mari had to suppress an urge to cough.
The boat she was in slid to a stop. “That’s as far as we can go and still get out again,” Mechanic Deni whispered to Mari.
“Thanks.” Mari passed along the word to the others in the boat, then nerved herself and swung her legs over the side.
Her legs sank into water and loose mud. Mari blessed the loan of high boots from the ships and Pacta Servanda’s supplies. As it was the water felt icy through the boots and her trousers, and the sucking mud felt as if it was trying to pull her down.
Alain placed a length of light rope into her hands and Mari passed one end back to the next Mechanic in line, working by feel since she could see almost nothing. The Tiae officer who had warned of the darkness here at night had if anything understated the problem.
Mari felt a light tug on the line and began walking. Or trying to walk. She could see nothing before her. The water held her back, the mud refused to release her feet without a prolonged, slow pull at each step to break the suction, and branches, trees, stumps, and numerous other objects blocked her every move. Insects were beginning to swarm around her and the others, invisible in the night but filling her ears with high-pitched buzzing and threatening to alight on any patch of bare skin.
Edinton had been stressful. This…this was a nightmare.
Chapter Fifteen
Mari had no idea how much time passed as she and the others struggled through the swamp. She grew worried about whether they would make it to the edge of the warlord’s camp before dawn. But the mud gradually became less gooey and less deep, the water shallower. The insects did not let up, but the salve the locals had provided seemed to be effective enough to keep their torment within endurable limits. The obstructions in their path thinned out.
It took a little while to realize that she was walking on nearly solid ground amidst trees which grew fairly straight, few bushes or other undergrowth blocking their progress.
Alain stopped abruptly so that Mari bumped into him and the Mechanics behind her bumped into her. “Wait,” he murmured in the barest whisper, then Mari felt the rope she held grow slack. He had let go.
Having no choice, Mari stood still, trying to see into darkness so thick that she wondered if it was solidifying just beyond her reach.
“I am back,” Alain said. “There was a sentry ahead.”
“Was?”
“He will not trouble us.”
Mari inhaled slowly. She knew what had happened. Alain had used a concealment spell, if one was required on a night like this, to get close to the sentry and kill without warning. Because she had given orders to carry out this attack. Mari remembered the screams last night and tightened her resolve to see this through.
They reached another natural barrier, brush on the ground and vines dangling from the trees, picking their way through with the best care they could and still setting off what sounded to Mari like a bedlam of noise. But those sentries who would have heard and called warnings to Raul’s camp were already dead from the blows of Mage blades.
After the pitch blackness of the woods, the starlit night beyond seemed almost bright for a moment before it became obvious how little could still be seen. Mari ensured the Mechanics with her were all out of the woods. “Everyone spread out. Stay right at the edge of the woods, keep low and keep quiet. Bev? Go down the line until you meet up with Calu and tell him to bend the line outside the woods so we block all the paths of retreat from Raul’s camp.”
Mari’s stomach felt as if it had tied itself into a knot so tight even the sailors on the Gray Lady wouldn’t have been able to untangle it.
Bev came back. “Everybody is out of the woods, all Mechanics within sight of each other, and the Mages right behind them. The line is bent where Calu is, extended out of the woods to the east.”
“All right. Good. We’re going to advance slowly. Ten paces at a time. I’ll pass word down before anybody walks. Got it?”
“Got it.” Bev ran down the line, passing the word.
Mari stood in a crouch, holding her rifle, trying to control her breathing. “Ten paces. Pass it down.”
She took the ten steps with care, watching ahead. Raul’s encampment wasn’t in sight yet, so Mari ordered another ten paces.
A low ridge loomed just ahead. Mari told the Mechanic next to her to wait, then moved in a crouch to look over it. Directly in front of her, about two hundred lances away, was a large open area. As Calu had described, tents were set up helter-skelter except for a spot near the center of the camp, where a large tent sat by itself. The fires outside the tents had subsided to beds of glowing coals, giving little light. Mari checked the time. The attack was supposed to start at dawn, when there would be enough light for the Mechanics to see their targets.
Alain moved up beside her. “The Dark Mage is moving.”
“Where?” Mari fought down an urge to curse at the unwelcome development.
“There.” Alain pointed, and Mari spotted a figure next to one of the tents.
Mage Tana spoke in a whisper just loud enough to carry. “I sense a Dark Mage at work.”
“So do I,” Alain agreed. “He is preparing a spell. A powerful one.”
“A dragon?” Mari hissed. She had thought she was worried before, but if a dragon appeared—-
“I do not think so,” Alain said.
“Not a dragon,” Tana said. “Another spell creature.”
Mari pulled out her far-seers to try to get a better look at the Dark Mage, then flinched as they became superfluous. A large, hulking shape had appeared in front of the Dark Mage. It was at least half again as tall as the Dark Mage and much broader, a being whose crude lines suggested a half-formed imitation of a human being.
“A troll,” Alain said.
Mari stared, remembering the troll that had attacked them in Palandur and taken a good portion of an Imperial legion to destroy. “We’re supposed to wait until dawn to attack, but that thing just forced a change in our plans. Alain, is there any way to stop that troll?”
“Do enough damage and it will cea
se.”
“I’m looking for other options!” Mari said. “The Dark Mage and the troll are just standing there looking at each other. What’s happening?”
“The Dark Mage is instructing the troll on what it should do. If the task is complicated, the instructing will take some time. Trolls are not very bright,” Alain added.
Mari inhaled sharply as an idea came to her. She didn’t like the idea, but she liked the alternatives much less. “What if something happened to the Dark Mage before he finished giving directions to the troll?”
“It would simply attack the first thing it saw,” Alain said, looking to Mage Tana for confirmation. She nodded in agreement.
“And it’s in the middle of Raul’s camp.” Mari looked back. “Alli? I need Mechanic Alli up here as fast as possible.”
Only a few moments later Alli ran up to Mari and dropped down beside her. “What’s the job?”
“See that troll? It’s not the target. The guy talking to the troll is a Dark Mage. He…he needs to be killed. Fast.”
“No problem.” Alli eased her rifle into position, resting it on the ground and aiming carefully.
Mari looked back again. “Pass the word down the line that we’re going to have to change the plan and attack earlier. There will be one shot, maybe two, from here. Everyone is to advance to the edge of this ridge when they hear the shots, but wait to open fire until they hear me call the order.”
Several long moments passed, while Mari felt increasing fear that the Dark Mage would finish and dart away. She wanted to hiss orders to Alli to go ahead and shoot already, but she knew that distracting Alli would be a mistake.
The crash of Alli’s shot sounded cataclysmic in the silence of the night, startling Mari so much that she almost dropped her own rifle.
The Dark Mage turned his head to look toward the sound, but suddenly jerked sideways, staggering.
Alli had levered in another round and now fired quickly a second time.
This time the Dark Mage jolted backwards as if he had been punched, falling to the ground and lying still.
The echoes of the shots faded into the night as the troll stood staring down mutely at the figure of the Dark Mage.
Aroused by the sound of Alli’s shots, the warlord’s soldiers started running out of their tents with weapons at hand, hastily buckling on whatever armor each one owned. Some skidded to frantic stops at the sight of the troll, while others who were scanning the woods for threats didn’t yet seem aware of the hulking figure nearby.
The troll roared, its voice slurred and impossible for Mari to understand. But its gestures were unmistakable as the troll raised its arms threateningly at the sight of people with weapons and charged forward. Within moments the open area had turned into a horrible brawl as the soldiers fought to subdue the monster, their weapons doing little damage while the troll’s hammering blows wreaked havoc on the warlord’s troops.
Mari could hear murmurs of grim satisfaction as those with her took in the battle. “How much damage can that troll take?” she asked Alain.
“It depends on the troll,” Alain said.
“Of course it does.” There were times when Mages could be just as particular as engineers.
The former silence of the night had given way to a cacophony of yells, shouts, screams, clashes of metal on metal, and over all the roar of the troll. Mari saw Raul’s soldiers form into ranks and volley crossbow fire at the troll. To one side others were wheeling the warlord’s ballista into position. “Alain, we need some light down there, and that ballista needs to be taken out.”
“I understand.” She saw Alain tense with concentration, and a moment later the wooden ballista erupted into flame, those who had been loading it falling away with cries of dismay. “What about some of the tents?” he asked.
“Yes. Set some of those on fire, too.”
Mari nerved herself again as two tents blossomed with fire. Between them and the burning ballista the fights in the warlord’s camp were well illuminated. General Raul is a monster. He needs to be stopped just like a rampaging dragon or that troll. She raised her rifle, remembering the faces of those she had been forced to kill in Marandur. Then Mari looked up to see the warlord’s soldiers being beaten into formation to face the troll. She remembered the screams and wondered how many nights had been like that, how many victims had suffered. “Mechanics! Aim at anyone giving orders and at anyone with a crossbow! Open fire!”
Entire common armies might muster only twenty rifles because of the cost the Mechanics Guild charged and because the Guild deliberately kept the supply of rifles very limited. Ammunition was so expensive that soldiers might as well be firing gold coins every time they pulled a trigger. But Mari had forty rifles that suddenly erupted in a ragged volley to pour fire into the warlord’s camp, and plenty of ammunition looted from Edinton.
A dozen of “General” Raul’s officers fell under the hail of bullets. A few others tried to rally or threaten Raul’s fighters, only to fall as well as the Mechanics targeted them.
The troll stomped around, smashing everything and everyone within reach, but a thick dark substance was oozing from numerous wounds and its ponderous movements were slowing.
A company of the warlord’s troops in matched armor and armed with crossbows came running into the area, stopping to work the levers to draw their bows. “Get the new guys!” Mari yelled over the sound of gunshots and battle.
Mari raised her rifle, sighting on a fighter with a crossbow and feeling once again a sick turmoil inside. Mari’s target fell as she levered another round into her rifle, trying not to think about what she had just done, then leveling the gun again and firing at a second crossbowman. The crackling of Mechanic rifle shots rose in an almost continuous roar and their muzzle flashes lit the field in a riot of light. Mari’s shot missed her target but apparently hit someone nearby, who screamed and clutched her arm, dropping her crossbow.
Mari blinked in surprise as her latest target seemed to disappear. Then she realized the troll had stumbled close to the crossbow wielders and was slamming them right and left so hard that they were flying through the air for some distance before crashing to the ground or into other fighters.
Mari tried to lever in another round and realized her rifle was empty. She dug out bullets from her jacket pocket and fed them in as fast as she could, wondering how much longer it would be before her Mechanics themselves came under attack. The warlord’s soldiers couldn’t miss the barrage of rifle fire, but in their dark jackets the Mechanics were hard to see, and the troll was occupying the attention of almost everyone in the camp.
She felt a curious exhilaration mingling with the dread that still filled her. Alain was by her side, she was facing danger and overcoming it, she was righting all of the wrongs done by the warlord and his thugs, and it felt good, it felt right, and that scared her, too, even as Mari saw one of the warlord’s officers brandish a sword to threaten a reluctant batch of Raul’s fighters and with an angry snarl put a bullet in him.
A tight group of soldiers carrying pikes came marching into the battle, leveling their weapons at the troll and advancing with steady discipline. General Raul’s bodyguards, Mari guessed. The keystone of his little army. “Take out those people with the pikes!” she yelled.
A moment later she heard and felt a whoosh of air past her head. Puzzled, Mari suddenly noticed one of Raul’s fighters gazing directly at her and setting another bolt onto his crossbow.
Mari brought her rifle to her shoulder again, but as the soldier raised his crossbow it caught fire. He dropped it and ran. “Thanks, Alain.”
The pike formation had lost quite a few soldiers before reaching the troll, dissolving under the hail of Mechanic rifle fire like a block of salt left out in the rain. The troll, spotting the large group of enemies, shambled toward them. Ignoring the pikes that tore into it, it waded into the formation. The fighters scattered, dropping their long weapons, which were worse than useless once the enemy was among them.
Mari stopped, aghast at realizing she had been so caught up in events that she had forgotten about other responsibilities. She dug the far-talker looted from Edinton out of one of her jacket pockets. “Master Mechanic Lukas! Tell Major Sima it is time for his soldiers to move in!”
“…move?” she heard in reply.
Cursing Guild technology, Mari tried again. “Major Sima! Attack now!”
“…under…Sim…now…”
Sima and his one hundred volunteers from the Confederation should be leaving the town now, sallying from one of the gates and moving against the front of Raul’s camp to pin the warlord’s army between Sima’s force and the Mechanic rifles.
“There he is!” Mari heard Alli cry. A moment later, Alli’s rifle barked again. Down in the camp, a big man in an ornate breastplate spun about and fell. Alli fired again, then a third time, and the man stopped moving.
Mari could hear trumpets sounding in the direction of the city. Sima’s soldiers. But in addition, she heard the sound of drums. “What’s that, Alain?”
He paused to listen over the sounds of battle. “Tiae. The battle drums of Tiae. The soldiers of the city come to join the fight.”
“They’ve got some scores to settle,” Mari said.
The troll staggered into the last organized body of fighters in the camp, and a moment later the survivors of the warlord’s army fell apart into a mob trying to escape.
Mari went to one knee from weariness as she stared down at the camp, seeing common soldiers from the Confederation and Tiae sweeping in to take prisoner men and women who had dropped their weapons and were begging for mercy. Others kept running until they collided with the line of Mechanics or with other soldiers from Pacta Servanda.
“General” Raul’s army had ceased to exist.
Mari got to her feet, leaning on her rifle for support. “Is anybody hurt?” she yelled.
“Tesa took a crossbow bolt in her hip,” a hail came back.
“Jorge got grazed. Nothing serious.”
The Pirates of Pacta Servanda (Pillars of Reality Book 4) Page 31
