And that’s exactly what Karus’s boys were doing, hitting what they shot at. They were killing the enemy with a professional efficiency that could only be admired. Several more bolts were fired, punishing the orcs further. At first a few disengaged. Then more, and finally all lost heart in pressing their attack, drawing back and away from Seventh’s rearguard. The bolt throwers ceased their fire shortly after.
Felix gave a grim chuckle.
“It took me a moment,” he said. “You don’t want the enemy to know their range, do you?”
“No,” Karus said. “I don’t.”
“Rearguard!” Varno hollered, his voice cracking from overuse and the strain of shouting orders. “Halt. About face.” The formation spun around to face the gate. “At the double … march.”
In a half jog, with armor chinking, the rearguard crossed the distance to the gate, where Varno called them to a halt. The men looked ready to drop. He reformed them into a rough column and ordered them through.
“Nice job,” Karus said to the centurion as the formation passed. Varno looked just as tired and spent as his men. He was also covered almost head to toe in green gore, with a spattering of red blood.
“Thank you, sir.” And with that, Varno passed him by through the gate.
All who remained outside the walls were Felix, Amarra, Si’Cara, Kol’Cara, and the growing numbers of the enemy. The orcs had continued pouring from the streets into the no man’s land before the palace walls. But they all seemed to understand the danger posed by the bolt throwers and did not come closer than two hundred yards.
Karus understood it was only a matter of time until their heavy infantry arrived. He wondered how long it would take them before they came up in strength to begin their assault against the walls. Would it be this afternoon? Tonight? He hoped the enemy commander decided to test his walls as soon as possible, for if he delayed, it might undo everything Karus had planned.
“How long do you intend to wait out here?” Felix asked, with a glance thrown to the gate. “It’s bloody hot under these two blasted suns and I could use a drink of water or something stronger if I can find it.”
“I thought to give it another moment,” Karus said, “in the event some of our boys are still out in the city.”
“Some undoubtedly are,” Felix said, tone turning grim and hard. “But with those orcs out there, I don’t see them winning through to us, not anymore.”
“That only makes what I have ordered more difficult,” Karus said.
“Gods help them,” Felix said.
“Yes.” Karus fell quiet for several heartbeats. “Their fate is in the hands of the gods now.”
Felix did not reply.
Karus shifted his stance slightly and a lance of pain stabbed at him from his shoulder. He grimaced.
“Hurts, huh?” Felix asked.
“It does.”
“What did Ampelius say?” Felix asked.
“That I am not to use it for a few days.”
Felix grunted but said nothing. Karus glanced once more at the enemy. If anyone was out there in the city, they had no chance of getting to safety now. His heart felt heavy at that thought. He stifled a yawn. Gods, he was tired.
Felix looked over at Amarra and a sly grin traced its way onto the centurion’s face. “If you ask, maybe she’ll rub your shoulder for you …? Might make you feel better, sir.”
“Funny,” Karus said. He turned to the others and sobered. “Let’s go. It’s time to close the gate before that lot over there gets ideas … bolt throwers or no.”
He turned and started through the gate. The walls above were fully manned. The enemy would not have as easy a time getting into the palace district as they had with the city, for it was a far smaller area and Karus had plenty of men to hold it.
He’d also had the district thoroughly checked for hidden tunnels. The only tunnel that led out into the city had been found weeks ago. It was the one in the dungeons that the druids had used to escape and had long since been collapsed.
Just inside the gate, a century of men was standing by for the purpose of closing it. Rank upon rank, six deep, Second Cohort stood just off to the side in battle formation. They were a guard, should the enemy attempt to rush the gate before it was closed and sealed. To them would fall the responsibility of pushing the enemy back so that the gate could be closed.
Beyond the Second, on the parade ground, Seventh Cohort had fallen out. Men sat on the ground with their heads in their hands. Others had lain down and immediately gone to sleep or dozed. A few had dipped into their haversacks and were ravenously eating whatever they found. Some were standing around staring at nothing, seemingly dazed, perhaps marveling or conversely feeling terrible guilt that they had survived when a beloved comrade had not.
Karus had seen it all before, experienced it himself even. Each man responded to the aftermath of a desperate fight in their own unique way. They would get through it, but never over it, for such things tended to stick with you.
Several medics were busy tending to the wounded, Ampelius too. Karus rubbed the back of his neck as he took it all in, feeling sour and angry. Deep down, he was really angry at himself. All that had happened lay solely upon his shoulders.
“Close the gate,” Felix ordered after they had gone through and were clear.
Karus turned to watch as the century moved forward. Slowly at first, with great effort, they swung the heavily reinforced doors shut, one at a time. The hinges, needing an oiling, screamed as they worked. The metal locking bar was then hefted by ten straining men and dropped into place. It made a deep thunking sound that Karus found ominous.
“It all comes down to the next few hours, then,” Felix said.
“That it does.” Karus glanced around once more. “I am dog-tired and need some sleep.” Karus paused and looked toward the gate. “It will take time for them to become organized. I’ll be in my quarters. Wake me if anything happens.”
“I will, sir,” Felix said and saluted.
Karus turned toward the palace. Amarra joined him. Karus noticed the eyes of the nearest men upon her as they passed. They eyed her with hope, in an almost worshipful manner. At a discreet distance, Kol’Cara and Si’Cara followed. Together they headed across the parade grounds to the marble steps that led up to the palace. As they climbed the steps, he looked over at the beautiful woman by his side. He had a feeling she could sense his worry and fear of failing, letting her down … letting them all down, even his god. For after the night’s events he had sure as shit failed in meeting his early goals for the defense of the city.
“Faith,” she said to him. “Have faith.”
Karus stopped at the top step and turned to face her fully. “At this point, that’s all I have … though I’ve cheated a fair bit to weigh the ledger in our favor. I hope the High Father does not mind.”
“I don’t believe he will,” Amarra said, for she well knew what he had planned.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The suns were in the process of setting as Karus made his way up the stairs to the wall. In a little more than an hour, it would be dark. Despite that, it was still bloody hot. Amarra, Si’Cara, and Kol’Cara followed. Of the two elves, only Si’Cara carried her bow.
“Make room,” Karus ordered to a century of legionaries who were making their way down the stairs. The men stood aside as Karus and company continued up the steps. With every footfall, his shoulder stabbed him with pain. He tried the best he could to ignore it, but it still hurt just the same.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Karus stepped onto the wide stone walkway that ran the length of the entire wall behind the battlements. It was easily seven feet wide, with plenty of space for the defenders.
To his left, he spotted Dennig, Ugin, and Felix gazing out from above the gate itself, just a few feet away. Another Vass stood behind Ugin. He watched the humans manning the battlements with evident suspicion and a look of displeasure.
All along the wall, for as far as the eye
could see, the legion and auxiliary cohorts were deployed, nearly to a man. The men had cleaned up, shaved, and maintained their kit too. He also had bathed and scrubbed up. It felt good to be clean. With their armor freshly polished, they looked sharp. Karus felt a stirring of pride for them in his breast. They were the finest soldiers around and he loved them.
“Did you have a good nap, sir?” Felix asked, turning to Karus. There was a hint of a smirk on his face.
“It was better than no rest.” Karus had managed four hours of sleep before he’d been awoken because the enemy had begun massing around the palace district. He had already spent time on the walls, studying the formations as they were coming up and deploying throughout the afternoon.
They had just put out a delegation, which was why he had been called to the gate by Felix. He still felt ragged, tired, and run-down … also terribly sore. He stepped up to the wall and gazed outward. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
The enemy army was finally fully assembled in all its glory and they had brought overwhelming force. Thousands upon thousands were formed up into neat, orderly, block-like formations that spread outward to either side and out of sight. The enemy had positioned their army completely around the district, effectively encircling it. They were essentially parading themselves before the legion.
Standard-bearers stood to the front of each formation, just behind the officers. The standards themselves were varied both in color and design, each depicting a different symbol. They meant nothing to Karus, but to the orcs it was likely a different story.
His eyes raked the units before him. Most of the formations positioned before the gate were heavy infantry. Their armor was plate, and uniform from unit to unit. It covered the chest, shoulders, and stomach, with a chain mail skirt protecting the groin. Each warrior wore a helmet and carried a shield and short spear. The light infantry formations Karus had seen elsewhere were armored only with a chain mail shirt and helmet. They carried a sword belted to their side.
The enemy was silent, ominously so. Karus supposed the show was designed to impress. And impress it did. This only reinforced his belief the army on display was a well-trained and disciplined force.
“Now this”—Karus looked over at Dennig and gestured outward toward the enemy—“is a show … much better than the one they put on when they arrived.”
“Quite,” Dennig agreed. “I hope you plan to ruin it …”
“I do,” Karus said.
First Cohort, which had the honor of guarding the section of the wall around the gate, gave a cheer. Karus looked back and saw that the Eagle-bearer had climbed the stairs. Under the fading light of the day, the gold Eagle glinted with reflected light. The men were cheering the Eagle as the bearer moved up to the wall and set the butt of the standard on the stone.
Karus was putting on his own show for the enemy. Granted, it wasn’t as impressive, but it was a show nonetheless and a sign of the legion’s defiance. He intended to send a message today, one that the enemy could not mistake.
Despite their hearty cheers and sharp appearances, he had a sense that his own men were concerned, worried even. There was a palpable tension, doubt, a brittleness of spirit … call it what you would, it was on the air and that worried him. The fight in the city had not gone as well as planned and clearly the enemy army was overwhelming in its magnitude. They had been through a lot since being transported from Britannia. This had been perhaps their greatest test so far.
They needed some help, reassurance that it would be all right. They needed confidence in their leadership … confidence in him. As Amarra had said, faith.
“Time to give you some strength,” Karus said under his breath.
“What was that, sir?” Felix asked. “I did not quite hear that.”
“Sound the horn,” Karus ordered Felix.
“Yes, sir,” Felix said and turned to a legionary who was standing there for this purpose. He gave the man a nod and he blew two long blasts from his horn. The sound of it echoed off the palace buildings. The men along the wall gave a cheer.
“Again,” Felix said and the man blew his horn.
There was another massed cheer. Satisfied, Karus turned back to the enemy. Across the way, the delegation waited. A large orc in highly polished armor that reflected the fading light of the two suns stood just before the enemy’s army. Karus supposed this was the enemy’s general. Two dozen heavy infantry carrying large rectangular shields stood around him, as did another officer. There was someone else with him too and he was no orc.
Karus stiffened.
“Is that Logex?” Felix asked, aghast, seeing the man at the same time as Karus.
“Yes, I do believe it is,” Karus replied slowly and it came out almost as a growl. It all made sense now. Before the refugees had turned on the legion, they had clearly found other tunnels leading out of the city … tunnels that had once likely been used for smuggling. Logex and those who had escaped with him had shown the enemy how to get into the city. Not only that, they had acted directly as guides. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Karus placed his hands upon the sun-warmed stone. His anger mounted like a thunderstorm about to break. There was a debt to be paid and Karus aimed to pay it in full.
An orc, who appeared to be a junior officer, separated himself from the others and walked slowly forward toward the gate. He was unarmed and came to a halt when he was fifty yards out. Si’Cara pulled her bow off her shoulder and nocked an arrow, though she did not aim it.
“Are you Karus?” the orc shouted in the common tongue. “I am told that you are he.”
Amarra automatically translated for Felix.
“You are becoming famous, sir,” Felix said.
“I am Karus, camp prefect of the Roman Ninth Imperial Legion,” Karus said, ignoring Felix. He was much too angry at the appearance of Logex to be amused.
“I am Sub-Officer Nek.” The orc gestured behind him. “My general would come forward and parley … without fear of violence. Will you guarantee that?”
“He may approach,” Karus said, “without fear and say his piece. Upon my honor and that of the legion, we will do him no harm.”
“That is most kind of you.” The orc turned on his heel and slowly walked back the way he had come.
“Polite bugger,” Felix said, “isn’t he?”
“I wonder why they want to talk now?” Dennig asked, glancing over. “Why not before, when they arrived?”
Karus sucked in a deep breath of the hot, humid air and slowly let it out, calming himself through will alone. He forced down his rage at Logex and looked over at Dennig.
“They want an easy victory,” Karus said, “an end without too much bloodshed. This parley is nothing more than an opportunity to give us a chance to surrender. That is the real reason they are putting on this show of overwhelming force. In their eyes, we’re trapped. They are demonstrating, in no uncertain terms, there is no hope. Their general will offer us something, with the hope that we will accept and make his job of taking the city easier.”
“How can you be so sure?” Amarra asked. “How do you know they will not attack immediately?”
“There are no ladders for scaling the walls in view,” Karus said. “They do not intend to fight tonight, only to talk. An assault will take time to plan, prepare, and execute. Keep in mind, their supply has been strained nearly to the breaking point and much of their army was engaged in the assault last night. They may appear sharp, but like the legion, they are likely far from rested. No …” Karus glanced out at the enemy. “They will need a day or more, then such an assault becomes a possibility.”
The delegation, Logex included, moved forward. Two of the heavy infantry guard walked before the general, their shields up for protection, and the rest followed close behind. Trust only went so far. They stopped fifty yards from the gate, almost exactly at the spot where the sub-officer had addressed Karus. Logex stood at the general’s side.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk. I am Genera
l Iger,” the enemy general called up to him. His voice was deep and confident.
“Say what you have to say,” Karus said. His anger surged toward the man below. He found it a struggle just to contain it, for he wanted Logex dead. The enemy general had trotted him out on purpose. He clearly hoped to unsettle Karus. But, instead, he’d only angered him further. At the same time, Karus had never before spoken with an orc. It seemed almost outlandish, but then again, he now regularly conversed with dragons, dwarves, elves, and Vass, all alien beings. He was struck once more at how strange and fantastical his life had become.
“Your position is a strong one, defensible.” Iger’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I do not care to dispute that. There is no doubt in my mind. An assault will cost me many warriors to overcome your defenses. But in the end, we will prevail.”
“And I don’t doubt that we will prevail,” Karus said. “Maybe our dragons will return.”
“And maybe mine will come back before yours do,” Iger snapped back.
“I think you touched on a nerve,” Dennig said, loud enough to be heard by Iger.
“A filthy dwarf, elves, and a wretched Vass,” Iger said.
Dennig stiffened. “Who are you calling filthy, orc?”
Ugin said nothing, just gazed down on the general.
“You keep interesting company,” Iger said.
“So I am told,” Karus replied.
“Do not force this issue,” Iger said. “There is no need to fight.”
“I disagree, and I will take my chances on the dragons.”
“I do not wish to fight you.” Iger held his hands out. “I do not know how I can make this plainer. All I want is the dwarven warband. You can march out of here with your arms, standards, and whatever supplies you can haul with you. Go west for all I care. You are not of this world. Its problems should not concern you. So why not just make it easy and give us the dwarves?”
“Really, it’s not a bad offer,” Ugin said to Karus. “You give them the dwarves and we go free.”
The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3) Page 34
