Had the weapon been fired?
“He’s the ugly one, I know,” Cin said, oblivious to Cinzia’s realization. Someone—perhaps Eward—shouted something in the distance.
Cinzia gripped Cin’s arm. “Perhaps we should—”
She stopped as another nearby shout split the air, this one much louder and more urgent. Cinzia had not heard whatever the person had said, but the tone… She only had a second or two to try to process what she had just heard when a deafening explosion rocked the earth beneath her feet.
Then Cinzia was on the ground. She wondered, for the briefest moment, whether this might be another earthquake caused by Morayne. But immediately she knew the truth. The trebuchet had struck Triah, and somewhere very nearby.
Cinzia slowly rose to her feet, looking frantically around her. Everything was hazy and shadowed, as if a tremendous dark cloud had overshadowed the sun. But the morning had been cloudless.
Many others rose slowly from the ground, while some remained there, hands covering their heads.
“Is everyone all right?” Cinzia called out, coughing. Coughing, she realized, because of the dust thick in the air. That was why it was so dark.
Apart from the choking dust, it seemed that everyone nearby was uninjured. Cinzia helped Cin to her feet, the woman coughing and spluttering, then walked quickly to Jane. Whether her sister had not fallen at all, or gotten up quickly enough to begin helping others up, Cinzia could not be sure, but Jane was already up and about, seeing to everyone around her.
“The trebuchet,” Cinzia said. She had pointed out the weapon to Jane that morning, but Jane, in typical fashion, had chosen to go about their business, citing Canta’s protection.
Jane nodded, coughing.
“Where did that explosion come from?” Cinzia asked, loudly so anyone in the courtyard could hear. Her gaze moved around the small area, but there was no damage that she could discern.
“Not sure.” Eward came up to his sisters. “I’ve sent Prelates outside to see if they can tell what’s going on, but… I think for now it’s best we stay inside these walls.”
As Eward spoke, the dust cleared a little more. Cinzia’s gaze rose upward, following the outline of the Grinatans’ manse through the settling dust. The house had been a three-story affair, with a small bell tower jutting up from the third floor. Or at least there had been one there when Cinzia had walked into the courtyard.
“Was there not a bell tower up there before?” Cinzia asked.
The others followed her gaze. Eward mumbled something under his breath.
Fast footsteps approached them from behind, and they all turned to see one of the Prelates running toward them, panting.
“Prophetess! Disciples!” he called. “I think you should come outside and see this.”
* * *
Terris looked out across the battlements on the topmost floor of God’s Eye. The city spread out around them in all directions, the harbor and the Wyndric Ocean beyond that to the west, and the great plains to the east. Terris knew it was an optical illusion, but it almost felt as if they were on a level with the plateaus atop the Cliffs of Litori. In reality, the cliffs stood another hundred rods taller.
“They’re preparing to launch again,” Hindra said.
“Our forces have engaged them,” General Marshton said. “With any luck, they will push them back and destroy that cursed thing before it does any more damage.”
A few moments before, they had witnessed the first missile strike the city. Those with sharper eyes than Terris had watched it arc across the sky to land in the nobles’ district, where it had sent up a cloud of dust and debris. From their vantage point atop the Eye, of course, such things seemed small. Inconsequential. Normally Terris loved the feeling of detachment, the global sense of understanding he felt from observing so much from such a high place. Today, however, he felt sick. He’d been so busy thinking about the missile’s trajectory, speed, and striking power that when the dust flew into the air, he’d watched dispassionately.
It took him a few moments to realize that the missile had destroyed lives—perhaps someone he knew. The next missile might strike his own district, his childhood home, or his parents.
“Where did it hit, exactly?” one of the general’s aides asked.
“Looks to be…” Terris calculated the streets in his head.
“Around the Twenty-Fifth Circle, near the Radial Road,” Hindra said.
Terris nodded, grateful for his assistant. He looked to General Marshton, the commanding officer, now, at the Eye. “What were they aiming for, do you think? That isn’t a military area.”
“The elves don’t care who they kill, what they destroy.” Marshton was a big man, not quite as tall as Terris himself but far broader in the shoulders. He looked perpetually hunched. His voice was low as he stared out at the city. “They have no honor, and no respect.”
Honor and respect? Terris was not sure the Khalic Legion valued such things, either, when life and death were on the line.
Marshton looked over his shoulder. “What is the status of the harbor?”
“Still nothing, sir,” one of his aides called back from the opposite side of the Eye. They had to shout around the Eye’s apparatus itself; the brass circles, mirrors, and magnifying glasses were not in use, but Carrieri had ordered Terris to keep the weapon at the ready.
Wind whipped Terris’s clothing against his body, and he was grateful for his goggles. Below, at sea level, it was a soft sea breeze, but at the top of the tower the effect was magnified to a strong, gusting wind.
“The trebuchet is preparing to fire again!” one of Marshton’s men called.
“Chief Operator, we need to do something.” Marshton’s attention was on the brass mirrors now. “Are you really sure we can’t—”
“I’ve already told you, General: the Eye’s range is limited. It can reach anything on the ground for almost two-radials, but it cannot be angled above its own plane.”
“You’re telling me that a thing this complicated and expensive can’t do something as simple as point up?”
Terris took a deep breath. He had explained the science of God’s Eye to many generals, lieutenants, senators, and even priestesses in the past. Marshton wasn’t a fool, and he was speaking out of pique rather than a failure to grasp Terris’s explanation. “It is not a matter of expense, but of design,” Terris said, as patiently as he could. “Had the original builders desired, they could have installed mirrors to angle the light upward. But their focus was on the sea. I don’t think they ever expected an enemy to come from the cliffs. And we do not have adequate time to create a new mirror now, nor the machinery to install it.”
Terris would have gladly pointed the Eye at the massive siege engine atop the cliffs, were it not for these limitations. The anger he saw so evidently in Marshton’s creased eyebrows, his reddened face and clenched fists, slamming on the battlements every few moments, pressed within himself, too. He was simply better at masking it.
“Should we evacuate the tower?” Hindra asked, her dark eyes wide as she stared at the trebuchet atop the cliffs.
Terris hesitated. He had wondered the same thing, when he’d first seen the siege engine. God’s Eye seemed a prime target for such a thing.
“Nonsense,” Marshton said. “We’re too far away. And even if we were struck by one of those missiles, the tower is strong. A little boulder would cause some damage, but nothing unfixable. Right, Terris?”
“Speaking strictly scientifically,” Terris finally said, “chances are unlikely we’ll be hit at all, let alone suffer any serious damage. Their weapon is big, but that means its aim is uncertain. And a clifftop is not a good site for such a weapon—they’d have to calculate for crosswinds and other irregularities. The first missile landed in a residential district—not exactly a strategic victory—so it is clear they are not practiced in this art. And, yes, even if one were to strike, it would likely not cause enough damage to…” Terris’s voice trailed off.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “To be honest with you, General, I would strongly consider evacuation of God’s Eye, if I were you. Even that small chance… if circumstances were to somehow allow such a thing, the consequences would be… Goddess, they would be catastrophic.”
“It is a good thing you are not me, then, Terris,” Marshton said, his face even more red than it was before. “The moment we evacuate this tower, the Rodenese fleet will come flooding through that harbor. We will thwart them with the power of God’s Eye, just as we did two weeks ago. And this time, we will make sure they do not forget the lesson.”
“Incoming!”
At the sound of the word, all eyes atop the tower turned to the trebuchet in time to see the great counterweight swing down. Despite the growing terror in his gut, Terris marveled at the feat of engineering. The counterweight had to weigh… Goddess, almost twenty tons, and he calculated the entire machine at close to a hundred rods tall when the beam was fully upright. He would never underestimate tiellan engineering again.
The counterweight swung beneath the trebuchet’s frame and the beam flew above as the sling launched another projectile into the sky.
Terris’s stomach dropped as the missile flew. He squinted to see it as best he could, but his eyesight was too weak. He sucked air through his teeth rapidly.
“Where—”
Then he heard the crash, and turned to the west to see another puff of dust, pitifully small from this height. Terris strained his eyes, trying to determine…
Goddess, where was the Glass Pyramid?
“Goddess rising,” Hindra whispered.
The structure, while not quite as impressive in size as anything around the Trinacrya, or God’s Eye itself, was nevertheless one of Triah’s signature buildings. A giant triangular pyramid, made of glass and metal, eight stories in height. Construction had finished only recently, about three years ago, and it had been a major attraction for people all over the Sfaera. The structure had sat in the new arts district, at the Fifteenth Circle, along the Coastal Road.
But now, as Terris looked to where the pyramid should be, he saw nothing but dust and debris, and perhaps, if he squinted, the jagged remains of something that had once loomed large.
33
CARRIERI SNATCHED THE MAP from the aide’s hand, his anger simmering just below the surface.
“Thank you, Ryven.”
He unrolled the map, spreading it out on the nearest table, sending writing utensils and a few stacked books flying. They had commandeered the top floor of the Merchant’s Tower, ten floors up. It wasn’t the safest place for a war office in a bombardment, but it commanded a good view of the city. Carrieri and his aides now gathered around the table on which he’d placed the map. Wide windows ran along each wall. Sunlight streamed in; it was a beautiful morning, or would be under any other circumstances.
Carrieri placed his finger on the map, at the intersection of the Radial Road and the Twenty-Fifth Circle.
“The first missile struck here, between the old nobles’ district and the current financial district.”
“Canta’s bones,” one of his men whispered, “That’s just three circles away.”
That was true enough, but Carrieri didn’t have time to acknowledge the obvious. They likely only had moments before the next—
The door to the room burst open, and a messenger entered, panting.
“Second missile. Direct hit on the Glass Pyramid.”
Carrieri swore. The Glass Pyramid was another civilian target; it held no tactical or military meaning. What were the tiellans bloody trying to do?
Looking down at the map, his finger moved to where he knew the Glass Pyramid was—was—and he reached for the quill, marking the spot in dark ink. Twenty-Fifth Circle on the Radial Road. Fifteenth Circle on the Coastal Road. It was impossible to discern a pattern with only two points, but he tried, anyway. The exact center in between the two points was close to the Sinefin River, where it met the Twentieth Circle. Nothing of note there. Drawing a line using the two points, moving southeast, just led out of town. Drawing a line northwest, however, from the Radial Road to the Coastal Road…
…led directly to God’s Eye.
“Canta’s bloody bones,” Carrieri muttered, shifting the map on the table so he had a better view of the Cliffs of Litori north of the city. “They’re trying to hit God’s Eye.” The map was to scale, more or less, and made by the famous Gendri Dargania, so it was relatively accurate, too. He scratched another broad X on the map roughly where the massive trebuchet was stationed, and his suspicions were confirmed. The two shots fired so far looked to be calibrations, testing how far it could fire, and how accurately.
“Give me a report on the battle,” Carrieri said.
Behind him, a psimancer in communication with the Hood Regiment stepped forward. “They have engaged the tiellan forces, sir, but the tiellans are strictly on the defensive. With the higher ground, they are holding their position.”
“And the Rodenese Fleet?”
“A few ships have been spotted in the distance, Grand Marshal, but no significant movement yet.”
Carrieri clenched his jaw.
“Illaran,” he snapped. “What of the project we discussed?”
“They have engaged the enemy, Grand Marshal.”
Carrieri exhaled, but he could not afford a sigh of relief. Not yet. Illaran’s forces were their last hope at this point. If they could not stop the trebuchet…
Goddess, he could not consider that option.
“Tell General Gerundi to press the attack,” Carrieri said, turning back to the psimancer that connected him with the general. “Send everything he has against the tiellans; make them react.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And…” Carrieri hesitated. Damn Kosarin for not giving him more psimancers; he needed to communicate more quickly. With everyone. “Get to the Eye as quick as you can,” Carrieri told the lad. “Take… Oblivion, is there another psimancer here?”
“Here, sir.” A young woman stepped forward.
“Accompany him. Keep in touch. Make sure God’s Eye is completely evacuated except for essential personnel. And tell the ones who stay they must be prepared to exit the building as quickly as they can.”
“Sir…”
“You heard me,” Carrieri said. The Eye would remain operational, even with a skeleton crew.
The messenger and psimancer both saluted, and then ran down the stairs.
Carrieri turned back to the window facing the cliffs. He could already see the trebuchet reloading.
Goddess, he pleaded, don’t let me be right. He had hoped, leaving Winter to fight those Outsiders herself, that he would destroy her. Instead, it seemed, he had created a monster, with an eye trained on his beloved city.
* * *
The second missile sailed toward Triah, and a suspicion shivered through Urstadt. Winter was fixated on the boulder, muscles tense and brow slick with sweat.
Urstadt had seen her like that before—mostly when she had used her psimancy during the battles against the Legion. Urstadt was willing to bet just about anything that Winter was using psimancy to… to what? Steady the projectiles? Propel them farther, or faster? Aim them?
“The Legion has redoubled their attack. They are pressing our forces back, Urstadt.”
Rorie, half of her body slick with blood, the other half covered in sweat and dirt, approached.
“Goddess, I hope that gore isn’t yours,” Urstadt said, looking the woman up and down.
“Not most of it.”
Urstadt glanced east, where the battle between the Rangers and the Legion’s forces was underway. She could barely make out generalities in the chaos, but it did indeed seem the Rangers were losing ground. There was still quite a ways to go before the Legion reached the trebuchet.
“You’re losing ground, but—”
“But we haven’t broken. Not yet. If the Legion keeps up this way, though… ain’t gonna be long.”
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Urstadt exhaled slowly. She could help, but there was little one woman could do—even a woman like Urstadt—to turn the tide of an entire battle.
Well, she corrected herself, a woman like Winter might, but the queen was otherwise occupied.
“We’re moving too slowly,” Winter shouted, and the team of engineers pulled harder, resetting the War Goddess’s beam and counterweight.
“Better send in the reinforcements,” Urstadt said. They’d kept a few hundred of their Rangers in reserve, on the chance that another attack might come from somewhere else. Urstadt was still betting Carrieri had something else up his sleeve, but they could not let the Legion Regiment through the front line. It would end everything.
Rorie nodded. “Will do.”
“And stay safe, Rorie,” Urstadt said.
Rorie offered a casual salute as she mounted her horse and rode off. “Under the sun and moon,” she said with a grin. Then she spurred her horse onward, toward the reinforcements.
Urstadt turned back to Winter. The trebuchet’s mechanism had nearly been reset, and the engineers were preparing to run in and ready the sling.
Urstadt was about to inform Winter of the battle’s progress, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A group of people, approaching from the cliff face.
Not tiellans.
Urstadt’s instincts were all that saved her as she dropped. A crossbow bolt flew through the air where her head had been a fraction of a second before. She rolled, calling to Winter over her shoulder.
“We have company!”
Urstadt dove for cover behind one of the smaller trebuchets, and tried to get a better look at their new attackers. There were ten or eleven of them, both women and men. All were dressed in dark clothing, with boiled leather armor but no chain or plate that she could see. Swords, axes, and crossbows. And—
The trebuchet behind which Urstadt hid slid to the side, about one rod.
Urstadt moved with the trebuchet, cursing as she did so.
Psimancers.
Urstadt gripped her glaive, adjusting her armor. Winter, too, had her sword in hand, but had yet to take cover.
Chaos Queen--Fear the Stars (Chaos Queen 4) Page 31