Alain began running, Mari following as closely as she dared with the stairs down only dimly visible. They rushed past others who stood aside to let them past, before finally reaching the pavement and running along the inside of the wall, which was bolstered by buildings built up against it.
Lieutenant Kaede darted to the side, Alain following her and Mari right after him. They went through a small, open, heavily armored gate, down a tunnel formed by the wall, and came to a stop at another small, armored and sealed gate.
“Stand by…for the scouts to…return,” Kaede gasped to the sentries at the gate as she tried to catch her breath. “There may be…Mages behind…them, and…legionaries.”
“I will know if there are Mages close to them,” Alain said. He faced the sally gate, his brow furrowing slightly with concentration.
Mari drew out her pistol and waited, controlling her own breathing. Stay calm, stay ready, she repeated to herself.
Minutes crawled by. “How will we know when the scouts get to the gate?” Mari whispered to Lieutenant Kaede.
“Voice relay. They flash a signal to the soldiers on the battlements, and the soldiers call down to us,” Kaede replied.
“Mages come this way,” Alain said. “Three…four of them.”
“There should be six scouts heading for this sally gate,” Kaede said. “They’re all very good at remaining concealed even when moving.”
“Even very good scouts are easy prey for Mages who use their spells to hide from sight,” Alain said. “The Mages have begun moving faster.”
“How close?” Mari asked, holding her pistol in a two-handed grip, ready to use.
“Not close yet. Coming fast.”
“Get that gate open,” Mari ordered before she realized that this wasn’t her army and the soldiers might not jump to obey.
But she was the daughter of Jules, and they had been told that Lady Mari was in overall command of the defense, so the soldiers didn’t hesitate. Many of the bars holding the gate shut had already been loosened, and now the soldiers fell to with a will to release the rest. As the last bar dropped, several soldiers tugged on the gate, forcing its ponderous weight into slow, reluctant motion.
As soon as the gate was open far enough, Alain darted through it. Mari, muttering a curse at his recklessness, followed into the night beyond. They stood next to the wall, in the cleared area between it and the nearest buildings. Mari, the wall at her back, felt suddenly very vulnerable.
There were several figures coming toward them, difficult to see in the dark, crouched as they moved cautiously, trying not to be spotted. “Run!” Mari yelled. “As fast as you can! We’ll cover you!”
The scouts leaped to their feet and raced toward the gate, but Mari could see that Alain’s attention was focused beyond them. She knew he could spot the location of Mages using their invisibility spells, and so waited, her weapon now pointed forward and held steady in both hands, as the first scouts reached the wall by her. “Get inside!” she snapped to them.
Alain’s hand came out, palm up, as he prepared his heat spell.
The wall of a warehouse just on the other side of the open area suddenly exploded as intense heat struck the bricks. Mari saw two figures in Mage robes abruptly appear, staggering away from the fragments of brickwork that had pelted them. She aimed and fired twice at the first figure, then switched aim to the second and fired twice more.
Alain had already turned and focused on another target. This time a window exploded, shards of glass striking another Mage who suddenly appeared there. Mari fired again, seeing that Mage jerk from the impact of the shot.
That left one Mage unaccounted for, but the last of the scouts had reached them. Mari spun inside around the edge of the gate as Alain backed toward it. She saw his long knife come out, then twist up to block a blow from another long knife that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
She put a bullet into where the attacker should be, seeing the fourth Mage appear and reel to one side as the bullet hit and Alain’s knife cut across the Mage’s throat.
“Get inside!” Mari yelled at Alain.
Still Mage-calm, Alain dropped back to join her. “There are no more Mages near.”
A crossbow bolt struck the frame of the gate.
“Imperials! Get it shut!” Lieutenant Kaede yelled.
The soldiers put their backs to the task, shoving the gate closed as several more crossbow bolts slammed into it, then hastily shoving the locking bars back into place.
“What happened at the other gate?” demanded one of the scouts who had made it to safety. “We had four people heading that way.”
Alain shook his head. “That gate is to the left of us? The Mages there have dropped their spells, but remain outside the wall.” He looked toward the outside. “They retreat toward the water. The other scouts must have been caught or killed.”
“Monster! Why couldn’t you—!” the scout yelled at Alain, his fist tightening on his dagger.
Lieutenant Kaede shoved the scout against the wall. “Shut up, you fool! He’s the daughter’s! The only reason you and these others are alive is because that Mage warned us and then came down here to face four times his number of enemies to save your butt! He couldn’t be in two places at once!”
The scout stared at Alain, then at Mari. “The daughter’s. I’m…I’m sorry. Sir Mage.” The scout bowed his head toward Alain, his voice shaking with reaction. “Thank you for the lives that you saved. I will accept your punishment for my words and actions.”
Alain shook his head again. “It is hard to lose friends. I heard and saw nothing worthy of punishment.”
Everyone but Mari stared at him.
“Mages can be human, too,” she told them, feeling depressed about the four scouts they couldn’t save and at the survivors’ immediate reaction to focus their anger on Alain. “The Mages who follow me are different. Give them a chance to show you that. Let’s get back up on the wall, Alain.”
The walk back was at a much slower pace, and going up the two flights of stairs next to the wall took a lot more effort than coming down them had required. Field Marshal Klaus was waiting for them. “A valiant action, Lady Mari. Rumor has not done justice to you or to Sir Mage Alain. We could see much of it from here.”
“What happened at the other gate?” Mari asked.
Klaus looked directly at her. “The gate was not opened when the scouts sent the signal. I ordered that, because there was no way to know if Mages were among them unseen. The scouts there were told to make their way back into the dock areas and try to remain concealed. They did not succeed.”
She felt anger, not at Klaus, but at fate. “If we’d only had another Mage with us. Mage Asha, or Mage Dav, or—" Mari rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Try to get some sleep now, Lady. Tomorrow will likely be a long and hard day.” Klaus saluted her, then walked off along the battlement.
Sergeant Kira was back, a short ways away. She gave Mari a brief wave and hoisted the rifle in both hands to show she and it were ready.
Mari waved in reply. Alain was leaning on the battlement, looking toward the waterfront, but saying nothing. Mari sat down again, pulled out her pistol, ejected the clip and reloaded it. “Alli always told me to reload at the first opportunity,” she murmured to Alain.
“I would never argue with Mechanic Alli,” Alain said.
“You did your best. You saved six of them.”
“So did you,” Alain replied. “But four died. It will be worse tomorrow.”
“I know. A lot worse.” Mari returned her pistol to its holster under her arm, looked over to reassure herself that the two dragon killers were still close by and ready for use, then leaned back, certain that she would not be able to sleep at all.
* * * *
She woke to a touch on her shoulder and stared up at Alain, not remembering when she had fallen asleep after being sure she wouldn’t be able to. “The Imperial fleet is moving into the harbor,” Alain said.
> Mari got to her feet and leaned forward against the battlement, holding her Mechanics jacket about her and gazing into the predawn light. Stars still glowed overhead, but they were nothing compared to the blaze of lights on the water as the Imperials brought their ships into Dorcastle’s harbor.
The ballista towers alongside the harbor stayed silent.
“Why are we not firing, Lady?” Sergeant Kira asked in a hushed voice.
“Field Marshal Klaus said that a force of this size would simply annihilate the towers before they had a chance to do any damage,” Mari said. “There didn’t seem to be any sense in sacrificing people to no purpose.”
As if to underline her words, one of the ballista towers suddenly shook, collapsing into a pile of rubble.
“Mages,” Alain said. “They caused part of the foundation to vanish.”
“Can they do that to our wall, Sir Mage?” Kira asked.
“Not easily. The wall is much thicker, requiring much more power, and any Mage concentrating on such a spell cannot also stay unseen.”
“I understand,” Kira said, fingering her rifle.
Field Marshal Klaus joined them, trailed by aides, looking unexcited as he surveyed the invasion force.
Mari brought out her far-seers and offered them to him.
But Klaus shook his head politely. “No need for those. We know all the landmarks here, and I can see everything I must well enough.”
As the first ships of the Imperial fleet began reaching the waterfront, Klaus looked at Mari. “I think it is time.”
“Go ahead,” Mari said.
The field marshal gestured to an aide, who turned and shouted. “Shoot!” Mari heard the order being repeated along and behind the wall. A rapid series of thuds from behind the wall marked numerous ballistae hurling their deadly burdens into the sky.
Overhead, streaks of fire appeared, forming scores of beautiful arcs against the still-dark sky. The flaming projectiles fell down toward the harbor, plummeting onto the Imperial fleet. Many of the lead ships had covers of hides raised over their decks to deflect the fiery bombardment, but bright flames grew on other ships, racing up rigging and along spars.
“We have practiced for this,” Sergeant Kira said, her voice low as she watched the ballista bombardment. “Every year for centuries. There are places marked to position our ballistae, and from each place we can tell exactly how to launch to land our projectiles at predetermined sites in the harbor and the city.”
Legionaries were leaping from the lead ships, forming up and beginning to move rapidly in among the buildings and warehouses. Cohorts charged down the streets, heading for the wall.
But more and more of the blazing projectiles fired by the defenders were falling among the waterfront structures, where fires were springing up. “The rest of the Imperials will either have to march through that,” Klaus said, “or wait until the fires burn out.”
“It can’t be easy to set fire to part of your city on purpose,” Mari said.
“It’s not,” Klaus said. “But it’s about saving the city by sacrificing some of it to save the rest. Crown Prince Maxim wanted to charge straight to the wall, but he’s going to have wait a while, because even the legions aren’t fireproof.”
Alain was also watching the fires spread, and the first legionaries to land and charge through to the open area before the wall. “They will be trapped,” he said. “Between the fires behind and our forces in front.”
“They won’t be trapped for long, Sir Mage,” Field Marshal Klaus said. “But we’ll wait until the fires get worse before we hit them.”
The fires in the waterfront area grew and merged. Mari lost sight of the legionaries who had been among the waterfront structures and wondered if they had made it out again as the conflagration raged ever larger and hotter. Several cohorts that had made it through before the fires grew too intense were standing with shields raised against the defenders in front of them and the heat of the growing fires behind.
Mari felt a breeze blowing from her back toward the fires, and realized that they were burning so strongly that they were pulling oxygen into themselves to feed the destruction. “Alain, remember when we were first in Dorcastle? I’d noticed that the buildings on the waterfront looked newer than in the rest of the city, but I never learned why until now.” She tried using her far-seers to figure out what the Imperials were doing along the waterfront.
“Can you see anything, Lady?” Klaus asked. “We had oil trails laid along the piers to carry the fires into the Imperial ships, but that’s more of a hopeful strategy than a reliable weapon.”
“I can’t tell,” Mari said, lowering her far-seers and rubbing her flame-dazzled eyes. “Between the smoke and the heat of the fires that is distorting the air so badly, I can hardly make out that there are ships in the harbor, let alone what’s happening to them.”
Klaus gestured to Lieutenant Kaede. “Call to those cohorts on our side of the fires and ask them if they want to surrender or to die.”
Kaede soon reported back. “They refuse to surrender.”
“As expected. General Sanj!” Klaus called down the street. “Hit them!”
Mari saw gates opening in the wall, foot soldiers armed with crossbows and pikes marching out to spread and form a solid line facing the defiant, trapped cohorts. Crossbow bolts were released into the Imperial formations, weakening them, before the lines of pikes charged forward.
The trapped cohorts couldn’t hold against the weight of the defenders’ charge. Some of the legionaries died on the point of a pike, a few tried leaping through the pikes to attack with their swords and also died, while the rest were forced back into the ravenous flames.
Even Imperial legionaries couldn’t stand against that. The formations broke. Most surrendered, but a few rushed into the fires, shields held over their heads, in a futile attempt to escape.
“We’ll put them under the care of militia guards and marching to Danalee before the sun sets,” Klaus told Mari. “Get them out of the city, where we won’t have to worry about them. It’s a small blow against the Imperials, but it gives us the first win of the fight. That’s good for the troops to see.”
The firestorm raged all through the morning, putting off so much heat despite the protective distance offered by the open area before the wall that Mari began standing behind the shielding stones of the battlement. The flame-born wind grew stronger as the greedy fires fed, until it felt like a gale blowing toward the burning waterfront.
Noon passed, the blazes finally beginning to subside in places, but the waterfront remained an impassible barrier of flames.
By late afternoon the fires were still burning, but were now mostly confined to the ruins of the structures themselves. Mari, gazing through her far-seers, could see formations of legionaries locking shields around themselves to protect them from the heat as they began advancing again down the center of the roads leading from the waterfront.
Field Marshal Klaus had been waiting for that.
Ballistae fired again, this time hurling clouds of fist-sized and larger rocks aimed to land in the center of the streets. As Sergeant Kira had said, the defenders had spent generations carefully working out exactly how to fire ballistae placed in certain spots to ensure their loads were delivered exactly where needed.
Mari watched, willing herself to accept what had to be done, as she saw the deadly hail fall on the advancing legions, smashing shields, arms, legs, and heads.
They kept coming, a seemingly endless stream of attackers, now racing the sun to try to take the first wall before darkness fell.
The word came down the battlements. “Stand to the ready.”
Looking up and back, Mari saw that her banner had been placed right behind her, fluttering in the breeze. It told all of the defenders that the daughter of Jules was here. It would also tell all of the attackers where the daughter was.
Mari had been in battles before, but this fight was much bigger than any she had experienced, and the s
takes of winning or losing much higher. As she watched the legionaries advancing through the flame-bordered streets toward the wall, her heart was beating so loudly she thought that everyone near her must be able to hear it. Her throat suddenly dry, she took a quick drink from her water flask.
Alain touched her arm. “I am beside you.”
“Thanks,” Mari replied. She tore her eyes from the spectacle as another volley of ballista-launched rocks landed on the oncoming legions. “Alain, if I die here—"
“Mari—"
“If I die here, I want you to know that it was worth it. If living for a hundred years more meant I never would have known you, and the Storm would have triumphed and destroyed so much and so many lives, I’d still want to die in Dorcastle beside you, both of us trying our best.”
“You will not die,” Alain said in a way that caused her to look long and hard at him.
“Do not do anything stupid,” she whispered, fearing for him now more than herself. She kissed him, trying not to think about the possibility that it might be their last.
The crash of artillery fire brought her attention back to the fight. With the fires subsiding, the Mechanics Guild ships had come close enough to begin firing their deck guns over the still-burning ruins of the waterfront. Unlike the high arcs of the ballista projectiles, the Mechanic artillery shells flew in low, flat curves to strike the wall.
Mari could feel tremors in the wall as the Mechanic shells exploded. But the massive stone blocks that made up the outer wall were too tough for the light and medium guns that the Mechanics Guild had limited itself to. For centuries, guns that size had been enough to turn the tide against foes whose best weapons were ballistae and crossbows. Mari leaned out enough to check where the shells had struck, seeing that only shallow spalls had been knocked from the rock.
“They’re going to shift their fire to hitting the battlements when they realize how useless those guns are against the wall,” she told Alain. “Do you see the biggest gun there? The one on the ship to our right?”
He squinted. “Yes.”