Warriors of the Tempest

by Stan Nicholls

  There were four of them and they took turns patrolling. One pair stayed at the gates while the other did the rounds, then it was turnabout and off again. She'd crouched miserably in a clump of bushes opposite for nearly an hour, watching the guards and keeping an eye on passing citizenry. If she didn't see a way in soon she'd have to abandon the mission.

  No sooner had the thought occurred than her break came. Four relief guards arrived. They mustered at the bottom of the temple's steps, and the old guards walked down to greet them. The doors were unprotected. If Coilla moved very fast, hugging the shadows, she might just get herself up the side of the steps and in. But it would take only one of the gossiping soldiers to turn and see her for the game to be up. A big risk, that had to be taken now or never.

  She took it. Stooping low, running fast, she rushed from her hiding place and got across the avenue. She scaled the steps two or three at a time. Then she was at the doors, which were conveniently in a pool of gloom. There was a moment's anxiety when she thought the place might be locked. But obviously no one saw the necessity with guards about. The round iron handle, big as her hand, turned freely. Pushing the door just enough to sidle in, she carefully closed it behind her.

  Standing absolutely still and silent, she listened, just in case there was somebody inside. Detecting nothing, she looked around. There were no lamps or candles burning. But light came in from the open roof, lofty windows and a high section of uncompleted wall. It was dull but enough to see by.

  There were some internal furnishings, including rows of benches and the beginnings of an altar. Several pillars had been erected, taller and slimmer than the ones outside, presumably as roof supports. A single, shorter pillar, the circumference of a wagon wheel, stood beside the altar, near to a boarded window. She went over and saw that something was sitting on its flat top, arranged so that people on the benches could gaze up at it. Not being able to make out what it was, she climbed on to the altar to see better.

  It looked as though she had found the star. Details were hard to make out, but she reckoned it was red, and it certainly had more spikes than the others.

  That was all Coilla needed to know for now. She clambered down and padded back to the door. Very carefully and quietly she eased it open a crack. Then froze. Two sentries stood a couple of feet away, their backs to her. Worse, at the bottom of the steps the other guards were talking with the High Priestess and Commander Rellston. Praying she wouldn't be seen, she gently closed the door and retreated.

  It was time to think fast. She scanned the massive building. Only one possibility presented itself, and it didn't look easy.

  Creeping back to the altar, she scaled it again. Even standing on the edge, the stout pillar was just beyond reach. But she thought she might be able to jump to it if she took a short run. Her hands would have to connect with the flat top, and the pillar's fluting would have to be pronounced enough to give her feet purchase. Two big ifs.

  She moved to the far side of the altar, beaded the target, took a breath and ran. As she leapt, it occurred to her that the pillar might be free-standing and go down when she hit it. In which case every guard in the settlement would be in here.

  Luck was with her. Her hands came down on the pillar's top, painfully, and she held on. Her boots gripped on the fluting. The whole thing didn't collapse, as she'd feared. Then it was a case of scrabbling her way up until she was able to perch unsteadily on the plateau, crowding the star. And it was the star, she saw that clearly now. As she thought, it was red, and she counted no less than nine projecting spikes.

  For a second she was tempted to take it. Good sense prevailed.

  She hadn't finished yet. The next step was to get from the pillar to the boarded window, which fortunately had a deep sill. It was as long a jump as the one she'd just taken, and of course she couldn't have a run at it. There was no point delaying. Tensing her muscles, she launched herself. She made it to the sill, but only just. For a dizzying second she thought she was going to fall. Clamping her palms on the sides of the window's alcove saved her.

  Drawing a knife, she set to work on the nails holding one of the boards. It was fortunate that they'd been hammered in from her side. What seemed an eternity went by as Coilla prised them loose. She expected the guards to burst in at any moment, or the Priestess to enter. At last she got the board off, and was relieved to see scaffolding outside. The plank she passed out through the gap. Next she began squeezing through herself. That proved tense too; the space was only just wide enough.

  She kept low on the scaffolding, trusting she wouldn't be seen. Then the board had to be wedged back in place behind her, lest it be thought someone had broken in. Finally she scanned the street, saw no one, and swiftly descended to ground level.

  Sighing with relief as she melted into the shadows, Coilla promised herself she'd never take up burglary as a profession.

  Jennesta tossed scraps of raw meat to the flock as she rode.

  The dozen or so scavengers swooped and screeched, catching the titbits in the air and gulping them whole.

  'Aren't they delightful?' she enthused.

  Mersadion grunted a platitude and gazed at the harpies. He found their black leathery skin, bat-like crinkly wings and razor-toothed maws far from adorable. But it never did to gainsay his mistress.

  His bandages were off now, and he was depressingly self-conscious about the wound. Angry blisters pockmarked the whole of the right side of his face, leaving his cheek a ruin. He looked like a partially melted candle.

  For her part, Jennesta took pride in her handiwork, and had insisted that he rode on the left side of her chariot in order to admire it.

  'You know,' she mused, 'I was a little peaked about that run-in earlier, letting Hobrow and the Unis beat us to Ruffetts View.'

  He could have laughed at her choice of words to describe the wrath she'd displayed at the time. Had he not valued his life.

  'But I'm beginning to see the positive side of it,' she finished.

  'Ma'am?'

  'Ever heard the expression rats in a trap, General? Having the main forces of our enemy trapped at the end of that peninsula does hold certain advantages for us.'

  'And by rights, the Manis in Ruffetts View should ally with us against them.'

  'Only if it suits me. I'm in no mood to put up with nonsense from any source.'

  He wondered when she ever was.

  'Another bonus,' she continued, 'is you telling me that deserters from my ranks may be there. We will shortly lop the head from more than one serpent, Mersadion. How does our strength compare with what we will meet?'

  'Bigger than the Unis, Majesty. Should you require us to engage the Manis too, we might be able to match their combined forces.' He hoped to the gods it didn't come to that.

  She fell silent, contemplating a gratifying slaughter. Maybe even the final battle that would confirm her mastery. Most of all, she relished the thought of catching up with the Wolverines.

  The last of her scraps had gone. Putting up a greater racket, the harpies clamoured for more.

  'They're boring me,' she decided. 'Call for archers.'

  Coilla met up with Stryke in one of the row of shacks Rellston had allotted the orcs as billets. Jup, Alfray and Haskeer were there too. Stryke wanted to tell her what Krista had said to him, but not with an audience, so it would have to wait.

  She wasted no time reporting. 'You were right, it's there. I had a hell of a time finding out though.'

  'Tell me about that later. What does it look like?'

  'Red, with nine spikes.'

  'Easy to get out?' Alfray asked.

  'Well, once you're inside the temple, yes. It's just sitting on top of a pillar. But the place is guarded. And as to getting it out of the settlement—'

  'What we gonna do about that, Stryke?' Haskeer interrupted.

  'I don't know. We need to think this through.'

  'I reckon the humans here won't hold off the Unis for too long. I say we grab the star and fight
our way out with it.'

  'Taking on both the whole of Ruffetts and the army outside? Talk sense.'

  'Besides,' Coilla said, 'the humans in this place deserve better than that. They've done nothing against us.'

  Haskeer gave her a dirty look, but said no more.

  'For now, our survival depends on riding out the siege,' Stryke judged, 'and we're going to have to help with that. If and when we can get our hands on the star, we will.'

  'That seems right,' Alfray agreed.

  'Is there anything else, chief?' Jup wondered. 'We're going to be missed if we're much longer.'

  'There's one thing,' Stryke replied. His face wore a curious expression, part apprehensive, part something that might have been excitement. They were intrigued.

  He dug out the stars one by one and placed them on the table. Finally, he brought out the two he'd somehow fused together and put them down too.

  'What the hell?' the dwarf said. He reached out and hefted the united pair.

  They gathered round and examined them. There was universal bafflement.

  'Coilla already knew about this,' Stryke admitted. 'I was waiting for the right time to show the rest of you.'

  'How did you manage to do it?' Alfray wanted to know.

  'That's not easy to explain. But watch this.'

  He took the coupled stars back, then selected the grey, two-spiked instrumentality they got at Drogan. Concentrating hard, he began fiddling with them.

  'What's he doing?' Haskeer muttered.

  'Ssshhh!' Coilla hissed.

  They watched him wrestling with the things in uncomprehending silence for over a minute.

  'There,' he declared at last, holding up the result.

  All three stars were joined, looking like one seamless artifact. They passed it round.

  'I don't get this,' Jup confessed. 'I can't see how they connect, yet . . .'

  Stryke nodded. 'Strange, isn't it?'

  'How do you do it?' Alfray repeated.

  'Just playing around with them at first. Then I kind of . . . saw how they went together. Any of you probably would too, if you worked on it long enough.'

  Alfray stared at the newly constructed object. 'I'm not so sure about that. I certainly can't make out the trick.'

  'It's not a trick. They must have been designed to do this.'

  'Why?' Haskeer asked, eyeing the stars suspiciously.

  'Your guess is as good as mine.'

  'It stands to reason that they'll all fit like this,' Jup surmised. 'Have you tried, Stryke?'

  'Yes, when I've had the time. I can't do it beyond those three. The other one just won't go. Maybe we need the last star to make it work.'

  'But what does it mean? Once it's together, what's it for?'

  If Stryke had an opinion, they were destined not to hear it. The alarm bells rang out.

  'Shit,' the dwarf cursed. 'They're back.'

  15

  The township was full of running people and galloping horses. Wagons careened around corners, platoons of defenders jogged to defensive positions, civilians doled out weapons from handcarts.

  Stryke and his officers, along with several score grunts, raced to their mustering point in the shadow of the pyramid. The rest of the orcs were already there, or close to arriving. Bellowing over the commotion, Stryke ordered them into their six designated squads of approximately forty troopers each. He, Alfray, Coilla, Haskeer and Jup headed groups one to five. Corporal Krenad had been given command of group six.

  With Rellston's agreement, the squads had been designated areas to fortify, alongside the Mani defenders but independent of them. But they also had a roving brief. They could go where needed to help strengthen the defences.

  'Keep an eye on the watchtowers!' Stryke reminded them. 'They'll signal where you might be needed! The alarm bells are a signal too, remember!' It was a far from perfect system, but the best they could do. 'You don't move from your positions unless your leaders say so!' he added.

  One by one, the commanders raised an arm to indicate they were ready.

  'To your places!' Stryke roared.

  Coilla's squad passed his on its way out. 'Good luck,' she mouthed.

  The six groups set off for their scattered posts. Stryke's was on the south wall. That pleased him. He'd be facing the main bulk of the attacking army.

  He got there in minutes, and immediately started urging the grunts up the many ladders to the walkway. Then he scaled a ladder himself, and spent a moment ordering his squad into position. There were hundreds of Mani militia on the gangway already. Stryke was careful to mix his force in with them.

  He spotted a young Mani officer. 'What's happening?'

  'You can see for yourself. They've been grouping themselves for a couple of hours. Now this.' He nodded at the landscape.

  What Stryke saw was not one army but at least four. The Unis had divided into segments, thousands strong, and each was moving towards the settlement. There were covered wagons at the rear of each segment. The divisions on the flanks were going off at tangents, Stryke guessed in order to surround Ruffetts.

  'They're going to hit us on several sides at once,' he told the officer.

  'And they've held back reserves.' The human pointed.

  Thousands more troopers had stayed in the enemy camp's staging area at the far end of the valley.

  'It's the smart thing to do,' Stryke said. He looked up and down the battlements. 'Do we have water wagons nearby?'

  'I'm not sure.'

  'I think you should. Fire's one of the biggest hazards in this kind of situation.'

  The officer went off to sort it out.

  Down below, the miniature armies approached. Each consisted of about two-thirds infantry and the balance cavalry. The footsoldiers dictated the pace of advance, which was consequently slow. But there was something about their ponderous movement that made them seem the more inexorable and threatening.

  Stryke walked the gangway, checking that his command was in order. He came to a pair of Wolverine grunts, and felt glad they were there.

  'Noskaa. Finje.' They returned the greeting.

  'What do you reckon they'll try, sir?' Finje asked.

  'If you don't count that little skirmish last night, this is the first really determined assault. I reckon they'll stick by the book. Strong contingents to the gates and ladders for the walls.'

  'But they're religious fanatics, sir,' Noskaa remarked. 'There's no telling what they'll do.'

  'It does you credit to realise it, trooper. Always expect the unexpected. But in a siege both sides' options are limited. We're in here, they're out there. Our job's to keep it that way.'

  'Yes, sir,' they chorused.

  'Keep an eye on the watchtowers,' he reminded them, 'and help out the Manis wherever you can. Providing that doesn't contravene any order of mine,' he added.

  They nodded.

  Stryke resumed his inspection. That done, like thousands of others all he could do was watch the attackers nearing.

  As the next hour or two stretched out, the four divisions of the Uni army moved into position, facing the settlement from each point of the compass. That meant Stryke and his comrades were looking down on a mass of troops. Those on the battlements and those on the ground jeered at each other and slung insults.

  Stryke paced the walkway, dealing out encouraging backslaps and cheering words. 'Steady, lads . . . hold your fire . . . stand solid . . . watch each other's backs . . .'

  Then it went very quiet.

  A series of high-pitched piping notes rose from the besieging armies, made by reed whistles.

  'That's their signal!' Stryke barked. 'Prepare to repel!'

  A deafening roar went up from the attackers and they flooded in on all sides. The defenders sent up their own answering cries and the siege proper commenced.

  The first priority was to stop the attackers reaching the walls. Mani archers took the brunt of that, loosing arrows by the hundred down on the charging infantry. Shields went
up below and bolts rattled off them. But many found their fleshy targets. Soldiers fell with pierced eyes, throats, chests. Some unfortunates in the front ranks were peppered by numerous arrows and went down to be trampled by the troops behind. Horses fell, spilling their riders, and they too succumbed to the rain of spikes.

  A party of enemy archers, hundreds strong, tilted their bows skyward and loosed their own swarm over the walls.

  'Incoming!' Stryke bellowed.

  Everybody who could, took cover. Scores of arrows showered on the walkway, killing and wounding, but most overshot and fell into the settlement itself. Reservists and civilian auxiliaries caught the storm. Men, women and pack animals collapsed under the downrush. People ran for cover, some screaming. Field surgeon teams began dashing to the wounded.

  Stryke heard the blasted bells ringing everywhere. He looked up to the nearest watchtower, but none of the lookouts was trying to signal. Then again they had their own problems, with dozens of enemy archers trying to pick them off. He stayed put.

  He realised he was crouching next to the young Mani officer. He looked scared.

  'First siege?' Stryke asked.

  The white-faced officer nodded, too nervous to speak.

  'They're just as frightened as we are, if it's any help,' Stryke told him. 'And remember that your men's lives depend on you.'

  The young man nodded again, with more resolve, Stryke thought.

  'We're likely to see nothing more than an arrow exchange for some minutes yet,' he explained. 'They're trying to keep us pinned down so they can get close enough to start scaling.'

  The Mani archers knew that. They were popping up at random to fire their arrows, then ducking to reload.

  'Can we hold them off?' the officer said.

  'No. Not unless both sides have an endless supply of arrows. Even if they did, their officers are going to be urging them to the walls soon.'

  Stryke looked down into the settlement and saw a water wagon drawing up, pulled by oxen. It was essentially a huge barrel on wheels, with rows of wooden buckets swinging on its sides. Arrows clattered on and around it. A couple pierced the oxen's backs and they lowed pitifully.