The captain frowned. ‘Where are First Company’s officers?’
‘Our carriage split in two, ma’am. We’re what’s left of our half. I’m the last squad leader.’
The captain nodded. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Lennox, ma’am.’
‘Get back to where you landed, Lennox. Use the carriage to make a barricade and block that entrance to the square. Imperial forces are on their way. Good luck.’
‘Aye, ma’am,’ Lennox said. He glanced up. The noise had quietened, and the skies were empty of both winged gaien and the bolts that had brought many of them down. He led the soldiers back to the carcass of the carriage.
‘Libby!’ he cried. ‘Take half and get round the other side. We’ll haul this section across the width of the street.’
‘Aye, boss.’
The soldiers mobbed round the largest intact part of the carriage, and began dragging it across the cobbles, heaving its weight as it buckled and creaked. Bodies of some of the fallen were revealed as it was inched along. Two soldiers were found alive under a structure of twisted wood as large as a wagon, and were hauled out into the dawn light, gasping and blinking. The wounded were set down by the side of the road as the carriage was eased into position, blocking more than half of the width of the street leading to the square.
Lennox turned as the thunder of boots approached.
‘Crossbows!’ he cried. ‘Line up either side of the carriage.’
The soldiers picked up their shields and ran into position, flanking the wreckage.
‘Hold!’ Lennox cried, seeing the familiar Army of Pyre uniforms draw near. ‘Let them through.’
An officer pulled to the side as the soldiers filed past the barricade.
‘Where’s command?’
‘Base of the clock-tower, sir,’ Lennox said.
The officer nodded. ‘We’re the last friends that’ll be coming from this direction. The imperials were close behind us. You’ve got maybe ten minutes.’
‘Aye, sir.’
The officer followed his soldiers past the barricade, and Lennox’s lines reformed.
‘What now?’ said Libby.
‘Take your half into the market,’ he said. ‘Bring the stalls. Let’s get this barricade finished.’
‘Aye, boss,’ she said, catching his eye before she turned and raced away.
Lennox heard a sound next to him as a stone struck the carriage. He turned to see a crowd of civilians at the end of the street, throwing whatever came to hand at the soldiers. The road was strewn with loose cobbles and broken roof tiles.
‘Take cover!’ he shouted as a rock bounced off his shield.
‘Should we charge them, boss?’ Cain said. ‘They’re only Rakanese.’
Lennox shook his head. ‘They’re trying to draw us out. Stay here and hold the line.’
The soldiers moved behind the carriage as Libby’s team dragged the nearest market stalls into the gaps at either end. Lennox peered over the wreckage at the mob of civilians. They were keeping their distance, while more were gathering all the time. To their rear, Lennox caught sight of a group who were taller, and realised he was looking at enemy Kellach Brigdomin. His heart sank at the thought of fighting his own kin. If only he could talk to them; explain why their empire was leading them all to ruin; make them understand. Libby moved over next to him.
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Boss, are you alright?’
‘Aye,’ he said, his eyes on the street ahead.
The crowd parted, emitting a roar as a large group of imperial troops began marching towards the barricades. Their lead ranks were made up of armoured Kellach, their broad shields forming a wall across the street. The civilians were pushed aside as the troops advanced. Arrows started flying down into the Army of Pyre, shot from the windows and roofs of the nearest stone tenement blocks. The soldiers kept close to the barricade, keeping their shields high.
‘Cain!’ Lennox cried. ‘Get yer arse over to the clock-tower and let them know the imperials are coming.’
‘Aye, boss,’ Cain said, turning and running through the abandoned marketplace.
Lennox glanced up and down the line of soldiers behind the barricade, then swung his crossbow off his shoulder. There was no point in issuing orders. They all knew what to do.
When the imperial troops were twenty yards from the barricade, Lennox and the others shot as one, reloaded, and shot again, their hands running over the wooden stock. Reload, loose. Never take your eyes off the enemy. The imperial troops’ shields were bearing the brunt of the bolts, but a few passed through, and several in the front ranks fell. More were forming up behind them, filling the street. Lennox stowed his crossbow and pulled his mace from his belt, its grip heavy in his right hand. He kept his shield up as more arrows fell among the barricade, striking the defenders as they switched weapons. The lead ranks of imperial troops collided with the carcass of the flying carriage, and it juddered backwards a foot under the impact. Lennox clambered up the interior railing and brought his mace swinging down onto the helmet of an imperial, splitting it open. A spear point grazed his right shoulder as he struck downwards again, the rest of his squad in a line alongside him. Druman took the edge of a sword across his head, cutting through the helmet straps and slicing his face in two. He let out a gargled cry and fell as Lennox drove the end of his mace into the attacker’s throat. His right arm was aching, but still he battered his mace down onto the steel ranks trying to climb the barricade. His shield splintered from a heavy sword blow and he was flung backwards, crashing onto the wreckage of the carriage. An imperial trooper jumped into the place where he had been standing, and Lennox loosed his crossbow, the bolt penetrating the enemy’s chest armour. The trooper staggered, and Libby swung her mace two-handed into his face as Lennox leapt back to his feet.
He heard a roar behind him, and turned to see at least a company of Army of Pyre charge through the marketplace to reinforce the barricade. An officer caught his eye.
‘Are you Lennox?’
‘Aye, sir.’
The officer gazed at the barricade as the reinforcements charged past them, racing up to form a thick defensive line.
‘Pull your soldiers back,’ the officer said. ‘Oh, and, good job, son.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Lennox turned to the carriage. ‘First Company squads, withdraw!’
A trickle of soldiers emerged from the press of ranks; some wounded; all covered in blood, their armour dented. Lennox led them back into the square, where they halted under the awning of a market stall.
‘Drink,’ he said, gazing at the battered soldiers standing before him. Out of the two dozen that had stood alongside him at the barricade, barely half were left. His own squad had been lucky, with only Druman killed, but Carrie, Denny and Loryn were all carrying injuries. One of the soldiers from another squad handed out water canisters and they drank in silence.
‘Pyre’s butt cheeks,’ said Cain, approaching from the clock-tower. ‘I was only gone ten minutes. Look at the state of you. Is this all that’s left?’
‘The imperials are tough bastards,’ said Carrie, holding her injured right hand.
‘And they’re attacking from the other side as well,’ Cain said, pointing off to their right.
‘Where are the two gates from here?’ said Lennox.
‘Wine Gate’s behind us and a little to the left, and River Gate’s over there somewhere,’ he said, pointing, ‘beyond the Rahain district.’
Lennox nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
‘What now, boss?’ said Libby, her cheeks smeared in blood.
‘Get everyone’s injuries seen to,’ he said, ‘then rest, and eat. This might be the last break we get for a while.
Five minutes later, the first boulder struck the marketplace, thrown from the high battlements of Stretton Castle. It collided with a row of stalls, smashing them to pieces. Fragments of wood and cobbles flew through the air, hitting several Army of Pyre sold
iers nearby. The remnants of First Company got to their feet, scanning the skies. To their right, the fight at the barricade was still raging; a constant roar of noise.
‘Clear the market!’ cried an officer as soldiers scattered. Another boulder crashed into a shop front lining the square, driving a hole through the side of the building.
As Lennox and the others ran to the edge of the square, the officer spotted them and strode over, ignoring the chaos erupting throughout the market.
Lennox approached. ‘Ma’am?’
‘Squad leader,’ she nodded. ‘We need a diversion, something to draw some of the pressure away from the square.’ She pulled a map from her armour and held it out. ‘Here,’ she said, pointing at the plan of the town, ‘there’s a way through these shops and out the back. I want you to take your squad and work your way through these backstreets. Keep quiet, until you reach this main road, then make a distraction.’
‘How?’
The officer stared at him. ‘Kill everyone in your path. Draw the imperials towards you, and away from the square and the two gates. Do you understand?’
‘Aye, ma’am.’
‘Good,’ the officer said, folding the map and tucking it back beneath her armour. ‘Pyre will honour your sacrifice.’
Lennox said nothing as the officer strode away. Another boulder crashed into the square, striking the tree in the centre. Its trunk twisted and splintered, the branches bursting outwards as it toppled to the ground.
Libby glanced at him. ‘Did I hear right?’
‘Aye.’
‘Hey, Lennox,’ said one of the soldiers from First Company’s other squads. ‘The captain said to take your squad. Well, I’m not in your squad, and I’m not going on some fucked up suicide mission.’
Lennox shrugged and glanced at the others not belonging to his own squad. ‘Get yer arses out of here.’
They ran off through the square, leaving Lennox alone with the Fifth.
‘Follow me,’ he said. He turned, and kicked down the door to one of the shops lining the street. He entered, the others following. It was a bakery, and the soldiers’ eyes lit up at the sight of morning rolls and loaves sitting out on the tables of the abandoned shop.
‘Grab what you can,’ said Lennox.
‘Are we really doing this?’ said Libby, close to his side. ‘There’s only seven of us, and three are wounded.’ She moved closer, whispering. ‘Are we going to be slaughtering civilians?’
‘They’re fucking imperials,’ said Cain before Lennox could reply. ‘They’d do the same to us and you know it.’
Lennox saw that the squad was watching. Some were muttering their agreement with Cain’s words, while others were silent.
‘We’re going to obey orders,’ said Lennox, to a huge grin from Cain, ‘but I’m interpreting those orders to mean that the officer was intending us to hit military targets. If anyone disagrees, take it up with command once the battle’s over. Come on.’
Cain and Libby’s eyes met and Lennox sensed the hostility between his two oldest friends; a hostility that hadn’t been there a few thirds before. The squad went through to the back of the shop, passing a stairway that led up to the apartments above it. Lennox’s ears picked up the faint cries of a baby, and tried to imagine the terror the families sheltering in the rooms were feeling as the Army of Pyre smashed their way through the town. At the back door, Cain peered out of a window.
‘Backstreet’s clear,’ he said.
‘Line up,’ Lennox told the squad.
He watched as the six soldiers formed up before him. Loryn was bleeding from an injury to her side, while Carrie’s cut fingers had been bandaged up. Denny had taken a blow to his neck, and the rags that bound it were seeping red. Cain and Libby were uninjured but, like everyone else, their armour and equipment had taken a battering. At the end of the line stood Leisha, an old member of the Fifth that had returned to the squad after having her twins in Liberton the previous summer. She almost never spoke, and loathed being back in the army.
‘Squad,’ said Lennox, ‘I’m proud of you all.’ He paused to glance at Denny. ‘Druman was a good soldier, and when this is over we’ll mourn him properly, but now we have a job to do. We’re professionals, the best soldiers in the world, and we’ve trained over and over for this. Protect each other, and we’ll see the rest of this day through.’ He nodded. ‘Cain, take the rear. I’ll lead.’
Lennox moved to the door while the others formed a line behind him. He opened it and glanced out into the narrow street, shadowed on both sides by tall stone buildings. The few windows visible had their shutters drawn and closed, and no one was about. The noise of the fighting by the barricades could be heard to the left and right of the shop, but ahead was in silence.
He stepped out onto the cobbles and began to run, the boots of his squad echoing off the ground. He kept a steady pace, scanning the entrances to the buildings and remaining as quiet as he was able. Eyes flickered at them from behind shutters as they came to a junction with a wider street, but Lennox kept straight ahead. A handful of running civilians almost collided with them as they passed. A Rakanese woman cried out as she scrambled to a stop just a few yards away. The soldiers kept their heads down and ignored them. At the end of the alley they burst out into an open plaza, filled with tables and chairs, and lined with closed cafes and bars. An old Kellach man was standing to the side, watching them as they ran across the square.
‘Hey!’ cried a voice to their right.
Lennox turned to see a small group of imperial troopers, Holdings by their height and the darkness of their skin. One of them was pointing at the squad, while the others were loading their crossbows. Lennox moved round to face them, pulling his own bow from his shoulder and kneeling. Without a word, the rest of his squad did the same, crouching behind their shields. Libby moved to cover Lennox, the only one in the squad who had lost his shield, as the troopers and soldiers began to loose at each other.
Bolts thudded into the shields on either side of the plaza. One Holdings trooper fell, struck in the shoulder. Lennox glanced to his left, where another alleyway led off.
‘Follow me,’ he said. ‘We’ll draw them off.’
The squad shuffled to the left, keeping their shields together as the bolts continued to fly. Lennox reached the entrance to the alley and set off, sprinting away from the plaza. The roar caused by the fighting by the Wine and River Gates was fading into the distance as they ran, but Lennox became aware of another cry of voices; angry voices. They emerged from the alley into a wide street, filled with civilians and imperial troopers. Carts were being led off to the right, towards the northern gates of the town, while to their left, the warehouses and buildings of the harbour district could be seen, with gulls circling over the masts beyond.
Dozens of eyes turned to them. At first, their arrival almost caused a panic, but when the squad’s numbers became apparent the mood shifted.
An imperial officer raised her sword. ‘Kill them!’
The crowd surged towards the squad, their eyes filled with hatred. Lennox unslung his mace and edged backwards as a loosed crossbow bolt skittered off the cobbles in front of him.
‘We can do it, Lennox,’ Cain said. ‘We can show these bastards. Come on!’
Lennox swung his mace at the nearest trooper as the crowd charged towards them.
‘Back into the alley!’ he cried to the squad. ‘I’ll hold them off.’
The squad retreated into the narrow passage as the crowd reached the entrance. Lennox struck a Kellach man in the face, the mace head crushing it to pulp. A sword lashed out at him, but a shield blocked it.
‘You’re not dying here, Lennox,’ Libby said, smacking her shield into an onrushing trooper.
Before Lennox could answer a spear glanced off his helmet, and his head rang out in pain. He swung his mace, cracking it off the breastplate of a Holdings trooper. He grabbed the falling man’s shield as Libby began pulling him away. Foot by foot they retreated, shield by shie
ld, as the alley slowly piled up with bodies.
At an open doorway, Cain and Leisha reached out and hauled them in, barring the door behind them. Lennox fell to his knees as the others piled furniture by the entrance, his ears still ringing from the blow to his helmet. A cobble was flung through a window, shattering glass over the squad within.
‘We can’t stay here,’ Carrie said. ‘They’ll be through that door in minutes.’
‘I thought we were supposed to be fighting?’ Cain said. ‘Not running.’
‘Our job was to cause a distraction,’ said Libby. ‘I say we’ve done alright.’
Lennox heaved himself to his feet, his head pounding. The crowd outside were roaring, and the door was being pummelled. An arm reached in through the broken window brandishing a crossbow, but Leisha loosed first, and the trooper fell back. Lennox looked over the small room. There was a door at the rear. He ran over and opened it, his bloodied mace clenched in his right hand. Beyond was a kitchen with no other exit, where a group of Kellach Brigdomin were huddled by a table; a woman with three children. In her hand was a knife.
‘Shit,’ said Libby next to him. ‘There’s no way out. We’re trapped.’
Lennox glanced back through to the front room. The door was rocking on its hinges, the mounds of furniture edging backwards with every thud. One of the children began to cry.
‘Shut that bairn up,’ muttered Cain. He turned to Lennox. ‘This is it, whether you want it or not, boss. Time to go down fighting.’
‘You sound like you want to die,’ said Libby.
‘I want to act like a soldier,’ Cain said. ‘Enough of this fannying around. Let’s take as many with us as we can.’ He nodded over to the small group crouching by the table. ‘We should start with them. We can’t have that bitch trying to knife us from behind while we’re fighting at the front door.’
‘No,’ said Lennox. ‘If she attacks us I’ll kill her myself, but we’re not butchers.’
Cain tensed as the squad watched in silence, the only sound coming from the sobbing child. Lennox looked his old friend in the eye, and could feel the anger coming from him as they squared up against each other.
The Magelands Epic: Storm Mage (Book 6) Page 2