He paused, wondering how he could explain what he wanted to the Norsil. He wasn’t even sure if they spoke Nuna or Kasdin—he might need Larz to translate. The Norsil took over without a word. The women gestured at the men, and before Lahar could ask what they were doing, the archers stepped around the corner to release a volley. They released a second one and pulled back. The thanes rushed forward in the same moment.
Lahar heard an arrow hit the barricade, and something splashed into the water. A curse followed. Blades clattered, and silence followed.
A man’s voice grunted, “Clear.”
The others spread out across the junction to check for more guards.
Lahar asked Larz, “Do they practice that?”
Larz shrugged.
They sent word back to the keep to bring the rest. When Olroth met them at the junction, Lahar complimented the thanes for how they had handled the guards, and Olroth told him they often defended the main gates to a village from purims—arrows followed by blades.
Lahar asked him, “Will the families give us away?”
“The children know how to hide from monsters.”
“Good.” Lahar told Larz, “Lead the way.”
Lahar stayed back to make sure everyone got out. He grabbed three of his knights, and they waited in the cellars for everyone to leave. Then the knights headed for the main doors and removed the heavy beams bracing them. He saw no need to let the Norsil smash the walls completely. If things went as he hoped, they would reclaim the keep after Marah made it past the gates.
The last thing they did was visit the Roshan prisoners.
Sir Lexand asked, “Are we finally dealing with these murderers?”
“We’re arming them.”
“We’re what?”
“They’ll slow Breonna’s men.”
Lahar led the knights to the second-level rooms where the Roshan prisoners were kept. They opened the doors, and he asked to see the clerk, Elmar. The old man came to the door.
“Your arms are down the hall. The keep is going to fall today, and the Norsil will kill everyone.” Lahar pitched his voice for the hundred men. “You can die here, or you can die fighting. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Elmar knitted his brow and began to ask questions, but Lahar abandoned him. While the Roshan were confused, he and his men hurried to the stairs and went straight to the cellars. They didn’t want the bastards to follow them into the tunnels, and when they reached the cellars, they closed the door behind them. Olroth found Lahar first.
“I forgot the other Kassiri.”
“They’re staying.”
“We were told—”
“We’re not saving those bastards.”
Olroth wanted to object, but Lahar said he had unlocked the doors and told them where to find their weapons and armor. If Marah entered the city soon, there was a chance the Roshan might hold out long enough to survive.
Olroth said, “You left them to die.”
“They killed everyone I know.” Lahar wanted to head down the tunnels after the families. They had wasted enough time on the Roshan. “You can help Marah get into the city—which will save everyone’s life—or you can trust those bastards to follow us down these tunnels.”
Olroth gave him an ugly glare.
“The choice is yours,” Lahar said. “I’m going to the gate.”
Lahar headed down the tunnel. The splashing of his men’s boots sounded behind them, and a few seconds later, he heard Olroth following them. Lahar was thankful for that. They needed warriors like Olroth if they were going to take the gate from Breonna’s thanes.
X
As he approached Shinar, Tyrus wished the Norsil would open the gates. He carried Marah in his arms while a dozen of her guards and Silas followed. They all suspected they would be barred from entering the city, but Tyrus hoped Breonna wanted to avoid a nasty fight.
They climbed over the rubble from the old siege wall and entered the no-man’s-land between the rubble and Shinar’s massive walls. Even after having fought for the city several times, the size of the walls intimidated Tyrus. He saw things he could not climb or hope to break, and the ramparts could hide thousands of sorcerers and archers. He felt cold when he looked at them, knowing how easy it would be for defenders to kill him.
He spotted archers on the walls. He slowed his pace as it became obvious that the gates would not open. They stood before the walls, waiting for something to happen.
Silas asked, “They won’t let us enter?”
Tyrus said, “There’s some bad blood between the clans.”
He considered their limited options. Either the Norsil opened the gates, or Marah would have to break them down, and he wasn’t sure how long that would take. He had seen the city take abuse before, and the walls were the strongest he had ever encountered.
He shouted, “Open the gates!”
Hundreds of arrows darkened the sky, and the air chilled as Marah and Silas used their sorcery. Marah glared at the arrows, which disintegrated into dust that blew away on the breeze. They looked like thousands of flies swirling away out of sight.
Tyrus asked Marah, “Now what?”
“I don’t like Breonna.”
He agreed with a grunt. Not sure what to do, he led the party out of range of the arrows. The other side of the city might be easier to approach. The gates were just as strong, but Tyrus knew the supplies came in from the coast on the western side. Marah was strong enough to burn the shipments, and that might force Breonna to negotiate. At the very least, it would give them something to eat.
XI
The engineers released a counterweight, and the heavy arm of the trebuchet jumped forward to smack the crossbar and launch a boulder into the air. Breonna watched the stone arc across the city and hit the doors of King’s Rest right in the center. Unlike the thousands of other hits, that time, the doors flew open. The boulder bounced into the keep and vanished from view.
Thanes and Islanders cheered.
Breonna hurried to the courtyard with the rest of her clan, and hundreds of thanes rushed the keep’s steps. She awaited them in the courtyard. She expected shouts, screams, and the clash of steel, but the shadowy doorway remained silent. She squinted at the darkness, trying to understand what was happening. The clansmen waiting to join the battle muttered questions and doubts.
She asked Orfeo, “Are they using sorcery?”
“I sense nothing.”
A thane returned to the door and called out that it was abandoned. Breonna lurched forward to investigate. She made it to stairs when she heard shouts. Metallic sounds echoed through the keep, and more of her thanes rushed to the door. She entered and found abandoned barricades.
The sight was strange. She saw no blood or evidence of a struggle other than the large boulder that had bounced through the room and cracked the tiles. Olroth had intended to fight for the doorway, but no one was there.
A thane told her, “Kassiri down the hallway.”
“Where is Olroth?”
“There’s no sign of the Ghost Clan.”
“How can that be?”
Orfeo said, “And there’s no sign of the Red Tower.”
“Find my sons, and bring me one of the Kassiri.”
Her thanes spread out through the keep. The sounds of battle soon faded, and they brought her a prisoner. The man knew nothing about what had happened in the keep and claimed to be one of the prisoners. When he convinced Breonna of his ignorance, she dragged her knife across his throat.
She told her men, “Find me something useful.”
Frustration turned to a begrudging respect. Olroth had found a way to deprive her of her victory. Men found her sons, and she hurried to the cellars. They were alive but chained to a wall, and they had been starved to the point of being bone thin. Their filthy bodies and skinny limbs disgusted Breonna at first, then she vowed to make Olroth die of starva
tion.
Tullir, Brugo and Peldor could not walk on their own, so the clansmen dragged them away from the stinking cell. Breonna knelt beside her sons, offering them a wineskin. She brushed their mangy hair out of their faces and looked them in the eyes. They looked relieved and exhausted.
Tullir asked, “Is that little bitch dead?”
“Not yet,” Breonna said, “but soon.”
She told her men to take them to her villa, to bathe them and feed them and find them a fresh set of clothes. A while later, they discovered the cellar doors leading to the tunnels and the dead thanes she had ordered to guard the passageways.
Breonna searched each room herself, with a couple of her guards and Orfeo. They made it to the top of the fortress without finding anything useful. No one had stayed behind to fight, and her men began to explore the tunnels beneath the keep.
From the battlements, Breonna gazed out across Shinar. The keep offered the best view with the tallest towers. Somewhere, underneath all that stone, were the men who had starved her boys.
Orfeo said, “They are heading north.”
Breonna searched the northern section of the wall for Olroth and the Ghost Clan, but then she saw what he meant. Tyrus and the girl were following the outer wall north of the city.
Breonna said, “All of the gates are closed.”
“They head toward the coast is my guess. They can starve us from there.”
She glared at the distant shape of Tyrus. “That filthy bastard.”
“We should hurry to the west, gather what we can.”
“Bring your sorcerers. How many will it take to kill the girl?”
“We shouldn’t kill a prophet. The things she can teach us—”
“She dies. She can’t have Shinar.”
Breonna leaned against the cold stone and glared at the city. She had never fought so hard for such a small amount of land before. On the plains, her clans fought for territory that stretched to the horizon. War bands could march for days without encountering a rival clan. In the city, she saw the man she wanted to kill, but a mountain of stone separated them. She cursed the Kassiri and headed for the stairs.
XII
Lahar was the first to climb out of the tunnel onto the street. A large grate covered the entrance to the tunnels, and it was slick with slime. The street sloped toward it, and all the filth from the streets, which had once been heavy with horses and carts, slid down into the hole. He had been careful to slide the grate out of his way, but it scraped the stone.
The street looked empty, but they had to move fast. Most of the city could be seen from the walls, and if the archers spotted them, the horns would sound. He could not see any of the archers from the street. The walls were as thick as towers, but he imagined they were watching Marah down on the plains.
He hoped they were, for they had to climb out of the tunnel one at a time, and while they did, they were at their most vulnerable. Half the thanes and archers stayed behind with the families in the tunnels. At some point, Breonna’s men would discover the cellar doors and explore the tunnels. Fortunately, the maze beneath the city would take them time to explore.
Fifty-four thanes climbed out, one by one, followed by a hundred archers and the knights and Larz and his students. Lahar hugged a building, waiting for everyone to get ready. They took forever to form up on the streets, and he was painfully aware that the building hid him from only half of the walls. He could look out, across the street, across the tops of the buildings, and see the massive walls on the far side of the city.
He assumed they were manned and at any moment a horn would blare.
The last of their force left the tunnel, and Olroth signaled them to move toward the gate. They split into two long lines, each hugging the sides of buildings, as they trotted down the street. Weapons were drawn. Arrows were nocked. Each rattle of mail, each scrape of a boot, made Lahar itch. He kept waiting for the Norsil to spot them.
They made it farther than he expected before he heard angry shouts. They were about a hundred yards from the gate when Breonna’s men spotted them. Without the need for any commands, the women stopped jogging, drew arrows, and released a volley. They fired once more as the thanes and Lahar sprinted toward the gate. One of Breonna’s men sounded the horn, but it was cut off when the arrows rained down on the gate.
Then the thanes crashed into Breonna’s clansmen.
Lahar stayed with the sorcerers. He and his men made for the gatehouse. Once they overpowered the guards, they had to man the levers to pull open the giant doors, and they had to hold the gatehouse long enough for Marah to enter the city. Lahar spotted archers on the walls.
He pointed with his sword. “Arrows.”
The air chilled as the red sorcerers worked to fend off the incoming missiles. More horns rang out, distant ones, on the walls. The thanes made quick work of the defenders, and the women hurried to take positions near the gatehouse. The structure offered shelter from the defenders on the walls, but they could climb down the ramps of stairs to get better lines of sight on the gates.
Lahar and his knights worked the doors. They unbarred them and cranked the wheels that opened the main doors and raised the iron gates. The dark wood cracked open, revealing the yellow landscape of the Shinari plains.
Marah was nowhere to be seen.
Olroth shouted, “Where is she?”
Lahar hurried to him and shrugged. They must have gone to another gate. He licked his lips and considered their options. The easiest thing would be to leave the city and find Marah on the plains, but the families were trapped in the tunnels.
Men called out a warning, and he turned to see more of Breonna’s men rushing toward the gate.
Olroth asked, “Now what?”
“We hold the gate.”
Thanes formed a skirmish line, and the women fired arrows. Lahar saw too many thanes to fight, and he knew more were coming. With each passing minute, the odds stacked against them. A hundred thanes would soon become several thousand, and their only chance was that Marah was close enough to help.
A large thane led Breonna’s men. Lahar grunted and charged at him. Olroth and his sons and the thanes of the Ghost Clan let loose their war cries and followed him into battle.
Breonna was halfway to the eastern side of the city when horns sounded the alarm in the west. She and her clansmen paused in the streets. Because of the giant walls, they had no idea what was happening. She hesitated, trying to guess whether Marah would continue west or if she had changed her mind. More horns sounded in the west, and Breonna cursed.
She unshouldered her bow and adjusted her quiver for quick access. Then she ran with her clansmen to the western wall. They followed other thanes and the sound of battle toward the gatehouse. Archers on the walls shot at the gatehouse, and more clansmen poured into the streets leading to the gate.
When Breonna turned down the street that led out of the city, she saw the doors were open. A sliver of yellow plains showed through the big black doors.
“Hurry,” she shouted, “close that gate!”
A small group was fighting a fierce battle in front of the gatehouse. Breonna saw Kassiri armor and red robes among a tight knot of white thanes. She sought out Olroth. The old fool needed to die.
“Charge!” Breonna shouted. “Kill them all!”
The group she ran with broke into a full sprint. Then she saw a dark-haired man enter the doors. He howled and ripped into the Norsil, fighting like a shigatz. He moved too quickly and powered through one thane as though he were a boy. Breonna skidded to a halt. Many of the men around her also came to a stop. She drew an arrow and targeted her husband.
Behind him, a tiny girl with white hair entered the gate. Breonna loosened the tension on the bow, knowing at once that they had lost. A thunderclap kicked up a circle of dust and sent men reeling away from the gate. Marah knocked down everyone except her and Tyrus.
Breonna cursed.
She drew her arrow, sighted Marah, adjusted for the arc, and released. She followed the arrow as it became a sliver and began to fall. It turned to ash and flaked away on the wind. Breonna snarled and fired again and again. She drew and released, but the filthy sorcerers turned them all to ash.
“Cowardly dogs.” Breonna spat at the gate. “Sound the retreat.”
Horns blared over the sound of the battle. Her clansmen pulled back from the gatehouse. Breonna watched them disengage, and when enough of them had pulled away—when she had some sense of what remained—she retreated, too.
She headed toward her villa to regroup. She knew, as she jogged down the streets, that they had to kill the girl. If they didn’t, they had to abandon the Kingdom of Shinar. She just didn’t know how to get close to the little freak.
Broken and bloody, Lahar felt the battle shift when Tyrus and Marah arrived. When the Norsil sounded the retreat, he dropped to his knees and slumped down into a sitting position. A cut on his forehead bled into one of his eyes, and a heavy slash had broken his left arm. The Norsil seemed intent on ripping off that arm. He couldn’t feel his fingers again. Olroth came to him, covered in blood, but none of it was his.
Olroth asked him something, but Lahar’s attention fixed on the three knights who were dead in the street. He recognized two of them, Sir Trench and Sir Mors. The third was covered by a thane and all he saw were the distinctive Shinari boots. More people checked on him, and he pushed them aside to try to see his fallen friend’s face.
Marah stood before him. “Can you walk?”
“Who is that? Over there?”
“Sir Kay.”
“Kay is dead?” Lahar’s mind felt like mud. “Can you help him the way you helped me?”
“The dead will stay dead.”
She reached for his arm. Someone helped her remove the dented plate, and she probed the break, making him wince. She sent a jolt of pain into him that made his back arc, and he twisted away from her. His face crashed into the cobblestones. When he rolled over, his arm wasn’t broken anymore, but it felt like someone had clubbed it hard enough to bruise the bone. He flexed his fingers and gasped at the pain.
Dance of Battle: A Dark Fantasy (Shedim Rebellion Book 4) Page 53
