“She fought to save this city, Mari. Dying uselessly will betray what she fought for. She is no longer here. She has gone to the next dream. What you see is only what she has left behind. She would not want you to die here. We must leave now!”
Mari glared at Alain, shivering with reaction, then nodded wordlessly. He pulled Mari to her feet, but Mari broke away to grab the rifle and the remaining packs of ammunition before running toward the stairs.
Feelings were returning to her, foremost among them fear as Mari realized there weren’t any living Confederation soldiers visible amidst the smoke and dust around them. As they reached street level an Imperial soldier appeared, charging toward them from the left, sword held ready. Mari felt another surge of rage, giving her extra strength as she swung the rifle like a long club, slamming the legionary to the side. An explosion erupted in the front ranks of more legionaries coming after the first, Alain staggering beside her from the effort he had just expended.
As if a switch had been thrown, the world came fully alive around Mari again, the rattle of crossbow bolts fired by legionaries who had gained the battlement striking the pavement around her, the clash of metal on metal, screams of rage and pain, blood bright red on weapons and bodies. Her arms hurt and she was desperately tired. And more legionaries were rushing toward them.
Mari put one shoulder under Alain’s, taking most of his weight, and ran. Part of her marveled that she still had the strength to help Alain, and part of her wondered what price she would later pay for expending her strength so recklessly. The street seemed endless, the buildings on either side crumbling in flames.
She could hear the hoarse shouts of the Imperials coming on behind. Her legs began to falter, the last dregs of her energy draining out.
Alain pulled himself away from her, lessening her burden. But as she ran alongside him, her heart pounding, her legs quivered with that deep weakness that meant they wouldn’t keep moving much longer no matter how badly Mari needed them to.
But they were finally in the open area before the fourth wall, and the safety of the main gate was in sight, and Mari kept going, she and Alain side by side, each moving as fast as possible so the other would have to keep up.
She made out a line of cavalry stretched in front of the gate. It wasn’t a long line. The soldiers sat astride their horses, lances pointed skyward, as defenders streamed between them to safety. Over the cavalry a green and gold banner waved.
Mari heard a triumphant roar behind her. She could not afford to turn her head to look, knowing that if she did so she would surely stumble and fall, but she knew without seeing what the roar meant. Legionaries were pouring into the open area as well, running down laggard defenders. They had seen Mari and Alain, a Mechanic and a Mage together, knew who the two must be and that the daughter and her Mage were almost within their grasp.
She tried to run faster, cursing her lungs and her legs as they betrayed her.
Was it fear or fatigue that caused the world to slow down? Everything began happening at a snail-like pace, the exultant cries of the legionaries drawn out, her motion over the ground as sluggish as if she were running through waist-deep water, every detail of the waiting cavalry clear.
They were the rest of those sent by Queen Sien, the Tiae soldiers who had not received rifles and whose only weapons were lance and sword. They sat in their saddles, side by side, a single row forty-six cavalry wide. Mari saw the heads of their horses tossing in slow motion, the mist of the horses’ breath spreading in the air like syrup, the lances of the cavalry coming down to level position with the ponderous pace of mighty trees toppling.
As she and Alain ran between two of the cavalry, she saw Major Danel look down at her gravely, one hand to his helm in salute, before the hand swept down faster and faster to grasp his sword and draw it as the world began moving at a normal pace again.
“For Tiae!”
Mari reached the gate and staggered to a halt, lungs burning, turning to see the small force of cavalry charging the overwhelming numbers of legionaries swarming toward the gate. “No.”
If the legionaries had been in formation, shields locked and spears forming a bristling barricade, the small number of cavalry would have been brushed aside. But the hasty Imperial advance had left units strung out and broken up. The legionaries attacking the gate were more of a mob than an organized force at the moment the cavalry charged, the weight of human and horse and their reckless pace giving the cavalry far greater force than their numbers alone could have produced.
The legionaries knew it. Some fell back, others stopped to form small pockets of defense, and a few tried to stand against the charge on their own.
The cavalry of Tiae hit and rolled them back, turning the Imperial assault into chaos.
“Lady, please!”
Mari looked to see other defenders urging her to get farther inside the gate. She stumbled back, seeing the gates beginning to swing shut as the cavalry rode back inside.
What was left of it.
Less than half as many cavalry rode back as had charged, accompanied by a few riderless mounts staying with the other horses.
Mari couldn’t see Major Danel among them.
The gate thudded shut and the massive bars were lowered to seal it. Defenders stood around it, leaning on the gate, breathing heavily, worn out.
She could hear the legionaries shouting again, faintly hear orders being called on the other side of the wall.
A mare with a sword wound on one flank ran past her, eyes wide and white with fear.
That sight shocked her mind into motion again. “Get up on the wall!” Mari shouted. “Get up there and stop them! They’re going to be putting up ladders! Move!”
Defenders bolted into action, most racing up the stairs, others gathering as the ground reserve. Mari, who a moment before had thought herself incapable of taking another step, joined the movement up the stairs until she reached the battlements and clung to a stone crenellation.
She stared at the rifle she was holding, trying to remember how she had come to reclaim it, memory of Sergeant Kira’s death nearly overwhelming her again. On the heels of that, her last sight of Major Danel came back to her. Mari’s hands shook badly as she ejected the empty clip, pulled the pack loaded with more ammunition off her back, loaded a fresh clip, and swung herself about to look down at the attackers.
An officer near the wall was gesturing, directing legionaries carrying ladders.
Mari aimed and fired, her hands steady now, and the officer jerked and fell.
She caught sight of Mechanics carrying a heavy object through the disorganized mass of attackers, the dark jackets easy to spot amid the Imperial uniforms and armor. Mari killed three of them with rapid shots, and as the others fled she called to Alain. “Another bomb. Get it.”
He nodded, braced himself against the battlement, and sent his heat at the object.
The explosion tore through the Imperials.
A bullet pinged off the battlement near Mari.
She saw another dark jacket, someone kneeling to fire. A Mechanics Guild assassin. The assassin fired again, the bullet striking a bit beneath Mari this time, as she steadied her rifle on the battlement, aimed, and fired.
The assassin jolted from the impact of her shot and dropped to lie unmoving.
There were attempts by the legionaries to raise ladders, but only a few had been brought forward from the third wall, and the defenders were making free use of the fresh supply of rocks and bricks stockpiled on the battlements of the fourth wall, hurling them with deadly effect. The legionaries, disordered and exhausted, fell away.
Mari slumped down behind the battlement, staring at nothing, Alain by her side.
Sergeant Kira was dead.
Major Danel probably was, too.
She had no idea how long she had sat there when a few old soldiers came along the battlement, carrying buckets of water and bottles as well as boxes of crackers and jerky.
Mari saw a bottle thrus
t at her. Her throat felt choked with dust. She took the bottle and drank.
The liquid scorched a trail down her throat. The dust was gone, but it felt as though the lining of her throat had been burnt out as well. Hastily lowering the bottle, Mari coughed and gasped for breath.
Alain, alarmed, checked the bottle. “This is brandy,” he told Mari. “Not water.”
“I guessed that already,” Mari managed to reply in a hoarse whisper.
A dipper of water was held out this time, and she drank gratefully, still shuddering from the unexpected shock of the alcohol. Mari grabbed a piece of jerky. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She sat there, holding the jerky, unable to focus any thoughts until Alain spoke gently. “You must eat.”
Bending her head, Mari began chewing the hard jerky, noticing neither taste nor texture. She kept chewing and swallowing until it was gone, leaning back against the battlement. One of her hands, resting on her legs before her, kept twitching and jerking, but as she sat the shivers slowly decreased.
“Lady.”
Mari roused herself from a fog of sorrow and fatigue to see Lieutenant Bruno crouched down before her. “Yes.”
“Everyone is amazed, Lady. The way that you and Sir Mage Alain held that part of the third wall, all by yourselves, and then made it through to this wall. You held up the legions along here enough to ensure they didn’t get any footholds on the fourth wall.”
Mari gazed at the lieutenant, trying to understand his words. “How are we doing?”
Bruno hesitated. “Field Marshal Klaus is checking on the left, but he says it could be worse.”
“We’ve lost three walls in four days.”
“Four walls remain, Lady.”
“Yeah.” Mari tilted her head back and breathed deeply. The overcast filled the sky now, heavy clouds threatening rain. This time of year we usually have storms that we say come in easy and slow, then hit hard and fast. “Sergeant Kira died,” she told Lieutenant Bruno. “I think her platoon has been wiped out.”
“I’m sorry,” Bruno said. “Lieutenant Kaede is also dead. The field marshal will assign another unit for your protection.”
“No. Having to stay close to me is too hazardous.” She realized what that meant for Alain and looked at him, but he only gazed back without any sign of worry. “Does the field marshal need to see me in person?” There might be candid appraisals of their situation that he wouldn’t want to risk sharing with others.
“No, Lady,” Bruno said. “He’s making certain that all the necessary supplies get to the troops on the wall and that they’re sorted out into their units so they can fight better when the Imperials come at us again.”
Mari nodded, feeling incredibly tired. “All right. If he needs anything from me, tell me.” She looked around, realizing that something was missing. “We left my banner at the third wall. I have to let everyone know I’m here. Alain, can you help me up?”
It took Bruno stepping in to get them both on their feet. Mari grimaced, cleared her expression, then looked to the right. “Thank you, Lieutenant. They need to see me.”
“It would mean a lot to everyone,” Bruno agreed.
“Let’s walk, Alain.”
She headed down the battlement, pausing when she saw a captain. “Is Colonel Teodor down this way? Commander of the Third Regiment?”
The captain, haggard with fatigue, shook his head. “No, Lady. Colonel Teodor…Colonel Teodor died on the third wall. As far as I know, I am now the commander of the Third Regiment. We’ve…we’ve lost a lot of our number.”
Mari paused to gather her strength. “What’s your name?”
“Captain Niklas, Lady.”
She gripped his shoulder. “You and I will have to do our best, then.”
Niklas roused himself, nodding. “Yes, Lady. We all will.”
Three walls in four days. The Imperial horns were sounding their triumph again. She had no idea how far away her army still was.
Chapter Ten
They held the fourth wall for most of the next day, throwing back repeated attacks by fresh legions. Alain stayed close to Mari, concerned by the fatalism with which she fought, as if death was now inevitable and she no longer wished to run from it. But she took no insane chances, just dangerous ones, and after a certain point every choice they faced was dangerous.
Late in the afternoon, word came down the battlement that a secondary gate had been forced. There were no longer enough reserves on the ground to seal the breach, so they fell back again, through the flaming ruins of the buildings between the fourth and fifth walls, most of the surviving Confederation cavalry hurling themselves at the pursuing legions to buy time for the footsore defenders to make it to the safety of the fifth wall.
Mari led Alain up to stand near the main gate again, but the legions did not move against it while light remained.
Field Marshal Klaus came by, his eyes dark, and spoke in quiet tones with Mari as they stood on the battlement. When they were done, he saluted her and went back to what was left of his headquarters staff, all but the most essential having been sent to combat units to replace a few of the losses.
Alain watched the Imperials occupying the city between the fourth and fifth walls, looking for any indication that the Mage Guild was returning to the fight. But his sense of other Mages still showed them far from the fight. “Their numbers may be lessening,” he told Mari. “I cannot tell for certain. They are too far away.”
“Too bad the legions’ numbers aren’t lessening,” Mari muttered.
He could not tell when the sun set, only when the gloom of the overcast darkened even more.
It was some time later when the clouds which had been piling up in ever thicker, darker masses finally had enough of watching humans slaughter each other. As he and Mari huddled against the battlement of the fifth wall, light suddenly flared nearby, illuminating everyone brightly. The lighting bolt struck the top of a bartizan a hundred lances down the wall, followed by an immense crash of thunder that shook the world. More lightning stabbed downward in jagged patterns, flaying the highest points in the city, and the roll of thunder grew until it seemed as if the sky had unleashed artillery far more powerful than humans had ever created.
Mari pressed herself against him. “We shouldn’t be so high in a lightning storm,” she gasped.
“We could get hurt,” Alain said.
Her laughter held a note of frenzy to it. “You’re right. We should be more careful. You know, the Senior Mechanics suppressed a lot of knowledge and technology, but at least they were smart enough to retain lightning rods. Those are the metal poles sticking up from the highest points. They attract the lightning so it doesn’t hit anything else.”
Even after days of horrible fighting, even when teetering on the edge of collapse, Mari kept trying to explain Mechanic things to him. Alain held her close, loving who she was and fearing for her.
He stared at the bartizan, memory tugging at him.
It was the one where he had once taken his farewell of Mari, she to go south on orders of the Mechanics Guild and he to go north by command of the Mage Guild. The place where he had seen the vision of the two of them fighting on a wall of Dorcastle amid a great battle.
That moment, perhaps two years gone, felt like an eternity ago. He could not help wondering again why his only vision of the future beyond this had been one of Mari lying badly injured. Nothing after that.
There must be something after that, Alain vowed to himself. “I love you,” he said to Mari.
“I love you,” she whispered in reply, her head buried against him.
Rain did not simply begin. It fell in abrupt, heavy torrents as if endless buckets had been upended. Mari and Alain held each other as the storm raged, pressing against the battlement that offered some small protection from the winds driving the sheets of rain.
So tired that he fell asleep even when being pummeled by rain, Alain felt himself awaken. It was still very dark. He did not move, holding M
ari and feeling the rain still pelting them though not as badly as earlier, trying to make sense of a vague feeling that something was about to happen.
More thunder rolled through the air, but something about it sounded different.
Mari jerked her head up, staring into the rain-driven darkness.
“What is it?” Alain asked, sensing alarm in her.
“Some of that thunder…that last crash.” Mari got to her feet, crouched against the rain, peering to the right. “Do you hear shouts?”
He could not over the rain and occasional thunder, but before Alain could answer, Confederation trumpets began blowing signals.
“Fall back!” the nearest officers bellowed over the storm. “The Imperials have breached the wall! Fall back!”
“The Mechanics Guild must have used the storm as cover to get a large explosive charge next to the wall and detonate it by surprise,” Mari yelled to Alain.
Imperial horns began sounding a call Alain knew all too well. “The legions have been told to advance. All-out attack,” he told Mari.
“I can hear!”
“We can’t hold!” a messenger yelled, racing down the battlement toward them. “The hole in the wall is too large! The Imperials are coming through fast! Get back to the next wall!”
“Can you run?” Alain asked Mari.
“Yeah.” She gripped her rifle, made sure she had her pack of remaining ammunition, then led him down the steps off the wall as fast as the dark and the rain-slick stone permitted. Soldiers were fleeing all around them. They reached the ground, where soldiers were running south, abandoning small stockpiles of supplies behind the wall as all semblance of organization vanished in the chaos born of darkness, the raging storm, and near-panic.
Alain followed Mari to an intersection where an officer was waving soldiers off. “Back! Not this way! The Imperials already have this area. The last reserves are holding them! Go around!”
Mari dodged down a side street, Alain sticking with her like a shadow just as he had every moment. Part of a building, weakened by fire and battered by the storm, crumbled as they ran past, blocking part of the street.