by Kris Schnee
The crossbow whipped up to firing position while Dominic's head was full of tactics. Metal bolts, of course. He felt the shot as a ripple of speed in the Weave but could do nothing to it. Instead he flattened himself against his horse's neck and let the bolt whiz past his head. Ha! With that huge bow the enemy would need a long time to reload. Dominic spurred his horse and closed in.
Holy King, that man was a fast loader! He yanked a pull-chain with one foot to tighten the powerful contraption without even slowing down. The magic darts had barely gotten close enough to harass the Citizen when he fired again.
The reason Dominic lived was that the man targeted his horse. The beast screamed as the massive shot speared its neck. The world spun. Dominic felt himself falling and rolled to one side to avoid landing on his spine. The impact still knocked the breath from him and sent his darts into the dirt. He smelled the blood of the horse whose hooves thudded and punished the ground around him.
Dominic scrambled out of the falling mare's path. The enemy galloped away, laughing and reloading. Cheers from one side helped him reorient. He heaved for breath. He'd been unhorsed like Mithraic cavalry against spearmen. The man was coming back, probably expecting him to counter with an upthrust of darts against his own mount.
"Want to beg for your life?" shouted the Citizen. He fired casually, coming just close enough to keep Dominic threatened. Dominic flung one of his splinter-cubes and shattered it in midair, but managed to miss completely.
Dominic grabbed his fallen shield. It'd do no good against that strong a shot, but any wood was ammunition. There was something else to try, too. He called out to the Baccatan army while trying to work magic. "I am Prince Dominic of a new, free Baccata! I've come to risk my life to unbind you from cruel masters and endless war! Behold a power from beyond the horizon, from a world that is dawning!" He hoped very much that his "saintly" power would appear on cue. He prayed that it was so, to the royal god he still didn't entirely trust.
The startled clatter of spears and shields from the entire loyalist militia told him it had worked. He looked at one hand to see the solar glow around his body. He smiled, and raised his hand to point toward the Citizen. "I won't beg or take orders, but I'd be happy to recruit you after you surrender."
The Citizen's playful sneer darkened. The massive crossbow fired too quickly to dodge. The bolt only grazed his side, but that was enough to tear out a chunk of flesh and crack ribs. The noise from his own body sickened him but the pain was only a lightning strike, barely felt after a moment. Dominic spun around, staggering. If he fell to his knees, he would die.
Instead he kept moving, gritting his teeth, and advanced on the Citizen. One leaden step, then another, then a full crazed sprint. His lungs seemed to slowly catch fire. He saw whorls of his own blood in the air, outlining him with a dawning gold-red mandala. The Citizen wavered and began to reload frantically, slowed by his clumsy haste.
Dominic thought of the time he'd attacked a ship and used its rigging as a weapon. Back then, he'd tried to simply slice the rope, and had needed brute force to do that. An easier method was more like... reminding the bound threads that they could separate. Dominic reached out with his hands and mind to touch the Weave again.
The crossbow twanged and its string snapped, lashing the Citizen's hand and leg. His horse caught the edge of it too and recoiled. Man and mount staggered. Dominic shouted, saw the world grow bright scarlet and gold, and lurched forward to cut the Citizen's leather saddle where the scabbard was attached. The sword clattered down out of reach. Dominic said, "Surrender with honor. Ride forward a few steps and dismount, or this unarmed man on foot with his blood in the air will kill you."
The Citizen roared defiance. He charged at Dominic to try to crush him, slam him down. Dominic saw the mass of muscle coming at him blurrily. For some reason he didn't want to hurt the horse. Silly, he told himself; the men of Baccata wore saddles by choice, and he was willing to kill them.
Dominic raised his shield. Instead of shattering it, he flung it at the Citizen's unprotected face. The Citizen swerved, missed Dominic by an arm's length, and swore. Dominic used the distraction to find his rope. "You're disarmed and you're looking foolish! I won't give you another chance!"
The Citizen only came at him again, loud as thunder. He had one hand up to try to parry Dominic's rope at the neck by magic or muscle. But instead, Dominic tangled his other arm and yanked the man sideways, sending him crashing to the ground. The Prince staggered closer.
The Citizen reared up with his fallen sword, screaming for blood. Dominic watched light glint off the blade, leaned back, staggered, and flung everything within reach at the foe's head. Rope, darts, shield, tufts of grass, a shattering wooden cube. Some of it struck. The sword grazed Dominic's arm. Only time for one more move before it swung around again!
He fumbled for the shield and made it explode in a shower of splinters. They caught the Citizen horribly all over his head, gouging eyes and cheeks. Dominic found himself starting to hate this man who wouldn't stay down, beginning to want to prolong his suffering... but no. That wasn't valor. Dominic seized the sword from the agonized Citizen, took it in his own shaking hands, and swung so hard that the blade became stuck in the Citizen's neck. He yanked it free, kicked the man down to the ground, and finished him off.
The Prince collapsed a few seconds later, but at least everyone saw him win.
20. Striking the Root
He woke up to the sound of seagulls. A tent rippled and snapped around him like a drum. He could barely move or think. Slowly, a daydream came to him, making him imagine swimming in bright water. He glanced toward that otter, his familiar, and saw it curled up asleep beside his cot and paddling its paws in the air. He smiled and moved just enough to scratch its warm belly.
He was able to sit up at that point, though his entire chest ached. Someone had dressed him in little more than a long shirt and bandages. Dominic called out, "Hello?" and winced from the exertion.
Jakob pushed aside the tent flap and let a salty breeze in. "Finally!"
Dominic tried to steady the world's spinning. "How long? What's happening?"
"It's been days. We've moved while you were out." Jakob walked in and looked about to embrace him, but stopped himself. "Dom, the end is in sight. It's been a few days since you averted another battle along the river. With our strength conserved, and the men seeing what you'll go through for them, we're ready to race for the capital."
"Let me see."
His friend let Dominic lean on him, to stagger out of the tent and view the southern coast. A line of perfect blue filled the horizon, all the way to his right and sweeping leftward to the familiar port town he'd visited so often. "Avicenna." Many a Servant sailed into there to begin their journeys of inspection and discipline. Most viewed it as the threshold of their home, welcoming them back from work well done.
Dominic looked at the crowded harbor beneath a swift-moving sky. "So, we have ships. The port is ours."
Jakob smiled. "It's good to see you so positive. I'm sure you'll capture it in no time."
Dominic turned around, sputtering. "That was meant as a question! You mean Avicenna is sitting there waiting for us to invade, and the people are poised to burn their own ships if we approach?"
"Not waiting, exactly. There've been skirmishes at the villages. I've tried to keep the destruction to a minimum. We even gained some recruits to replace the ones we lost." Jakob's smile faltered. "I don't like this business of command. Men have died at my orders."
Dominic woke up enough to better understand what he was looking at. The city was intact, but largely because much of the small army he'd just intimidated had fallen back to defend the city. It had not, in fact, entirely fled or switched sides.
He shook his head. "I never thought I'd have to march troops past the Servants' district in sight of Wolf Hill, and that restaurant with the steamed buns."
"That place! I miss those, and the whole Masked Quarter." Jacob smiled for a momen
t, but the expression faded. "We might have to destroy it all."
Dominic nodded grimly. "The town was here for our kind. I'm still waking up; where are their soldiers right now?"
They examined the map and scout reports. Avicenna lay along the south-facing river mouth, where it forked to form an island that was the town's core. More docks, warehouses, slums, and the dirty businesses of smithies and tanneries sprawled to either side east and west. Beyond them were legally protected mangrove-tree coasts that sheltered fish, then the endless fishing villages. With so many troops routed, the opposition here was limited on land. But the city walls held, and the ships out there had the range to kill anyone in plain sight along the shore.
"The longer we wait," said Dominic, "the greater the chance that the Mithraists will break out of the western bay and come to help us take the capital."
"Which is good. Isn't it?"
"I think so. But we're already at risk of the enemy shipping in more of their own soldiers... including eager Servants. Not to mention anyone sweeping in from the eastern border to smite us here, or to retake Seaflower, or someone starting a counter-revolution."
Jakob nodded. "We'll act right away, then. It'll be a stealth mission. We sneak in, take the ships... what?" Jakob noticed Dominic's skeptical expression. "We've done this before."
"Not under the nose of half the navy, with them well aware of us 'traitors'. We can't starve them out either while they control the sea." Dominic looked to the harbor where many perfectly good cargo ships and warships waited for the taking, and he sighed. "I see no better option than to break them. We need the westerners' ships and only their ships between us and the capital."
"But there must be a way to take control. We should be hurrying along to finish off the Boundless One. Why not... make ships out of the mangroves?"
"Do you see those wooden walls of the navy out there? They'd sink what little rafts we could make, for sport."
Jakob sounded pleading now, and even his wolf echoed him with a faint whine. "Then skip the city. Trust the Mithraists to get here soon. Send me east to Shirker's Noose to make progress there."
"The last part might be a good idea, but we've got thousands of men that need food and supplies and are eager for a fight. We need to deny this base to the Holy State and wreck as much of their naval power as we can." Dominic tried to smile. "We have men that choose to fight, and our cause is just. Some destruction now will help to free a lot more people, and they'll know how to rebuild."
Jakob looked off to one side, and down. "Your familiar. Have you figured out all it can do?"
He glanced at his otter. "I haven't had much chance to explore our connection."
"Right, right. It's just an underling. Skip over it, skip over how you're actually going to run this new nation you're building."
"That's not fair. We're at war." He felt his familiar growling up at the wolf opposite him.
"Seems like we always will be, just like before. I'll inform your troops, Prince." Jakob turned and left the tent.
Dominic called after him, "Did you think it was going to be bloodless? That we'd win every heart with a speech and a song?"
King, do not let me become inured to what I must do.
* * *
Under cover of night, a raft of volunteers slipped east toward the harbor to cause what trouble they could. By morning Dominic could see the enemy assembled. Siege-engine ballistae stood atop Wolf Hill with its High Citizen manor. The loyalist army had the usual pikemen Bound with Citizen crossbow cavalry behind them, and warships keeping any large concentration of men away from the water. Airborne familiars on both sides spied out the dueling armies. There was no easy way in, and plenty of threats for anyone approaching. "It's a porcupine of a town," groused Dominic to his aides. The command tent was crowded.
There was an attack plan to devise. Dominic talked things over with his inner circle, then summarized: "We'll advance and strike. Use loose formation to minimize ballista damage. Our mages will focus on arrow deflection. The Citizens might be using all-metal bolts, but any Servants they have won't, and nor will the archers. Scouts report crude outposts meant to tie us down, but I don't think they fully understand our mage training. We should be able to deflect their shots if not the Citizens'. Marion, your wolves should harass the Citizen cavalry. We sweep southeast into the west bank area, where we'll have buildings between us and the ships."
Jakob said, "How will we take the central district on that island, again?"
"We won't. The goal is to wreck the docks within reach, burn any ships we can, loot the warehouses and shops, and take cover with the whole west bank under our control. The key is to get past the open ground between us and there. Life gets easier then."
Messengers ran off. Above them all flew the new banner: a trefoil sun design, gold on blue. Baccata's triple-triangle stood atop the island's hill, for now. The men spread out so that each could stretch his arms and just touch his neighbors. And then, Dominic's officers looked to him. He stared into Avicenna, allowing his anger to flow forth from his heart and clench his fists. Prince Dominic raised one of them, pointed, and said, "For a new Baccata. March!"
He wouldn't be in the front lines, this time. His advisers had threatened to tie him up.
Almost immediately the troops came within ballista range, and under fire. Stakes slammed down into the army, skidding and kicking up dirt. Wild, hasty. The third volley caught them square, though, and Dominic could only watch as half a dozen men died in a roar of wood and blood. There was still time to make the rest turn back... How did he dare use them as his pawns, these men with names and lives? There was no better way, though. Nothing to do but to stand here and watch from a nearly-safe distance.
The men marched on across open ground, an easy walk but for the deadly hail. Once they'd approached the town's outer buildings, they came under fire from skirmishers but began sending men in threes and fours to sweep in and end any resistance. Crossbow bolts whizzed to and fro, mainly from his own side. All according to plan so far. A hawk-familiar scout reported enemy Bound wavering in their line between two warehouses. "Use flaming shots for one volley," said Dominic. "Ought to panic them." Signal flags waved and everyone saw a streak of fire pour into the enemy troops, making a few drop their shields and flee.
"Prince! A white flag at sea!" Rose pointed at the coast, where a small boat cleaved the waves at improbable speed.
He said, "Doesn't look like it's coming from the town, and we can't go to them without being smashed by the warships. Let them land and approach on foot if they dare. Meanwhile, continue the attack."
Dominic could give little direction but to point out places for reinforcement, largely specified by the high-flying hawk's master. He locked his eyes on the tide of men. They bunched up to seize warehouses, take cover from ballista fire, and smash foes whose lines had come loose. All according to their own initiative in the hands of men who he'd trusted as officers, encouraging every man to be ready to step into a leadership role. He would have the docks soon. Maybe he could even press on and take the town's central island.
A Baccatan pennant flew beneath the white one on shore. Nine men in all, three of each class, armed like bears and proud in their finery. Dominic still didn't even have a crown. He ignored their approach and tried to focus on the battle, giving what suggestions he could.
But soon, the white-flagged boat reached shore. He said, "Send nine men from our post to welcome them. Everyone else, look sharp. If there's any sign of treachery, kill them. Only one man may enter our camp."
The man they chose was Servant Jasper. He raised his mask for just long enough to give Dominic a view.
* * *
There was no way to disarm a Servant completely without stripping him naked. So as a precaution, Rose kept beside Dominic with her twitchy reflexes on high alert. Dominic wavered between wanting to hug the man and to tear his head off. Instead, he poured glasses of water and offered one to his old friend, of sorts. "Did you ask to be sen
t on this mission, Jasper? How much are you being paid?"
Jasper drank and looked around Dominic's headquarters, where the campfire ashes and supply tents looked the same as any border post. The loyal Servant's careful gaze made Dominic think of how ill-fitting it seemed to have such a warlike camp so close to home. But Temple Island wasn't home anymore.
Jasper said, "I'll get no bounty of gold from this work. 'Prince' is a lofty title for one in your position, isn't it?"
"It's a more honest one than 'Servant'." Dominic felt a moment of hope. "Join me. You know that the Holy State is rotten to its core. You admitted to me what most of our people would die for saying, because you knew it and you trusted me not to repeat it. With you on our side, we can make the transition quicker and less painful."
"That's a friendly offer from someone trying to destroy our entire society," said Jasper. He took off his mask and set it aside.
Dominic's heart eased. "You accept, then?"
"No. I want to speak to you as a man."
"Then, as a man, can't you see the State is wrong?"
"Right or wrong, it works. Do you understand how much our State depends on the smooth functioning of our rules?" Jasper gestured, drawing a trail of green light in the air that looped up and back down. "Our wealth must flow up from the One to the people and back down through farmers' hard work, to the people who support them. You've interrupted the flow that people depend on."
"That wealth is stolen from the people who produce it. You're wrong about the flow's direction."
Jasper smiled as widely as a fox. "So, if not for the Boundless One..."
"Without him the entire rotten structure would fall!"
Jasper put on his mask again, stood, and bowed. "He stands before you."
Dominic's jaw slackened. Rose gasped and hopped behind Dominic, then sheepishly peeked out from behind him.
Dominic said, "Don't be absurd. You represent the One, but --"
"Did you really think our entire nation takes orders from a shiny rock? There has always been at least one man behind it. Oh, it does have a sort of intelligence of its own, hard to explain. But really, one or more Servants with a talent for organization do much of the work."