Arbalests and scorpions on nearby men-of-war cracked, firing, and Keri stood again. ‘This I gotta see!’
‘Will you get down!’ Goss yelled.
A fusillade of explosions engulfed the top of the curtain wall in smoke and bursting fragments of stone. The rubble fell in long arcs to sleet the waters or punch through vessels. Keri sat, disappointed. ‘Mostly sharpers, those.’
Len shook his head. ‘What’d you expect? We’re right under the damned wall!’
An order went up from the Blue sterncastle: ‘Raise the tower!’
Keri jumped to her feet again, punching the air. ‘I knew it! Did you hear that? It’s a tower. A Hood-damned siege tower!’
All the while the withering barrage of arrow-fire continued to rake the decking. Suth began to wonder how this woman managed to survive any engagement. Near the bow sailors struggled with circular mechanisms while Blue marines protected them with raised shields. The ratcheting of iron vibrated the dromond as the sailors worked what appeared to be some kind of immense winch.
The tall construction, as long as the vessels themselves, began to swing upwards from the stern. Suth stared, genuinely amazed. Overlapping shields layered the front and sides. The open rear exposed a plain scaling ladder. A shielded walled and roofed box topped it. Everyone watched its agonizingly slow climb to the vertical. Water poured from the thing, some crashing down to the decks. Len was stroking his chin, quite impressed. Keri hopped from foot to foot, hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘I read about one of these in Gatan’s Compendium. We’ve never been able to build one.’
But Len was frowning now, troubled by something.
It was too short. Too short by far. The curtain wall rose nearly twice its height. Just as Suth opened his mouth to ask about this the ratcheting changed timbre to a deeper, more laboured, slower turning. And the tower began to rise. Not the entire thing; it became obvious that the tower was in fact built of two segments, one snug inside the other. It was the inner one that now rose.
The Skolati had reorganized the battlement defences and rocks pelted down, smashing to the decking, flattening troopers. The arrow-fire returned to its unrelenting stream. Suth adjusted his helmet strap one-handed, the other supporting his shield up over his head.
‘Move forward!’ sergeants bellowed. ‘Ready to climb!’
The men-of-war and flanking support ships fired another salvo from their arbalests, scorpions and bow onagers and Suth flinched, knowing now what was to come. Staccato explosions atop the wall obscured it in smoke and dust. Rubble came showering down upon them in pebbles and stones large enough to knock a hole in the deck. A marine in line disappeared as a stone smashed her flat. Everyone cursed the Blues to Hood. Suth agreed, wondering what was worse: the defending arrow-fire, or their own supporting counter-barrage. Now he understood Len’s cryptic remark about the Blues supplying more munitions to the fight than they would want.
‘Forward!’
The troopers readied themselves, shields overhead. Suth peered under his to the bows. He caught a glimpse of the Adjunct, now in a red cloth-wrapped helmet and a heavy banded hauberk with mail sleeves. The young officer leaned in to take the ladder first. Two squads of what looked like elite Blue marines followed him. Soon after that the line edged forward.
Arrow-fire returned, scattered, but gathering in density, clattering like hail. A roar shook the dimming evening as the marines, Blue and Malazan, clamoured before the west gatehouse. A much heavier defence faced them there. Suth’s mouth had gone as dry as dirt yet his palms were wet. Action was what’d he wanted all this time but now that it was here it was not what he’d been expecting at all. This was no testing of individual prowess of the sort boasted by his brothers and sisters back in Dal Hon. Yet, bizarrely, the courage it demanded was perhaps even greater: one had to abandon all personal control, release one’s fate to the greater effort. It was terrifying, yet intoxicating. He felt helpless, yet part of an unstoppable force.
His squad, Goss leading, reached the bow decking. Here a section of the railing had been removed and a gangway led to the rear of the tower. A solid line of men and women slowly worked their way up the ladder above, shields swinging at their backs.
‘Keep moving,’ a Blue officer told everyone who passed, a hand on his or her shoulder. ‘Do not stop at the top. Push forward. Make room for more.’ Pyke took a grip of the ladder ahead of Suth, while Wess was behind. Len and Keri brought up the rear.
Though water still poured down the construction, Suth found the climbing easy. Some sort of sand or grit coated the rungs of the ladder. Arrows and rocks rattled from the layered shields, striking at poor angles.
‘Move your fat arse,’ Pyke yelled at Dim, above.
The tower shook then, rocking back and forth, and a crash sounded above. Suth hugged the rungs for his life. But no one came tumbling down and the tower remained upright. A beast-like roar from the top told the story. Enough troopers had reached the platform to lower the gangway and charge. Iron rang from iron and now bodies fell tumbling past to hit the water with a splash, or strike the decking with a sickening thump. Suth fixed his concentration on each rung before him and just climbed.
He dared not look down; he’d never been much for climbing. His arms ached already and he hadn’t even reached the fighting yet. Then from either side hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him upright. ‘Go! Go! Go!’ someone yelled, propelling him forward. He charged after Pyke, drawing his sword and readying his shield. The gangway sagged and swayed beneath him. He reached the wall battlements and stepped down amid shattered stone and a carpet of fallen bodies. The noise that buffeted him from behind the curtain wall almost knocked him back. Fighting clashed from either side. Explosions lit the evening across the port city as Moranth incendiaries came arcing in overhead to fall blossoming in orange and gold flame. Suth stood transfixed by the sight of such chaos. This was not fighting as he knew it; this was war. Two arrows hammering into his shield shook the trance from him and he charged to the right after Pyke.
His squad was bunched up at the rear of a line of marines choking an open walkway leading to a tower. ‘What’s the hold-up?’ Yana called.
‘Who knows?’ someone shouted back.
Arrows clattered from the stones around them, fired from rooftops behind the wall. ‘Let’s move!’ Lard bellowed. ‘Our backsides are hanging out here!’
‘I’m sure they’re working on it!’ another voice called back.
An explosion shot smoke and debris on to the broad street below. In the fitful light Suth glimpsed fallen bodies, broken rock and equipment. Marines appeared, charging after retreating defenders. A great shout went up from within the tower and the line began advancing.
‘Who do you think that was?’ Keri asked Len as they shuffled down the tight passage.
‘Thumbs, maybe. Or Slowburn.’
‘Naw. Tight work like that? Musta been Squeaky.’
Len made a noise. ‘She’s overrated.’
‘Cap it!’ Goss barked from below.
They charged through a guardroom and hall cluttered by fallen Skolati defenders and marines. A barrier of furniture had been blasted aside, and the stone was slick underfoot with blood and fluids. The tower door had been demolished. The squads piled up behind pushed them out like a great vomit of rage, confusion and frustration. Squads peeled off down narrow streets. Goss was there and he yanked Suth aside to send him over to where Yana, Lard and Dim stood together in a triangle watching the darkened doorways and windows. Suth joined them, followed by the rest. Goss addressed them, hands raised. ‘Okay. This is where it gets hairy. The Skolati have fallen back but they’ll re-form. Where, we don’t know. We’re to push to the east gate tower to hit them from behind. Follow me. Stay close. And keep your eyes open.’ They formed two columns, Len and Keri in the middle, Goss leading, and headed up one of the narrow cobbled streets.
‘How do we know this is the right way?’ Pyke said, his voice low.
‘We don�
�t, okay?’ Yana growled. ‘So shut the Hood up.’
Once they entered the canyon-like street the light disappeared. Only a pale shifting glow from the fires in the city offered any details. Echoes of fierce fighting elsewhere came and went. Jogging down the street, Suth felt more exposed than if he were out on the savannah at night blindfolded. Despite the chaos the city seemed to be holding its breath.
‘Where is everyone?’ Pyke hissed. ‘This is stupid. We should all be together.’
‘Everyone just kinda took off,’ Wess said absently, chewing something, and he spat out a stream of brown.
Ahead, Goss stopped, raised a fist. The street dead-ended at a small courtyard. He gave a ‘turn round’ signal.
‘Shit,’ Wess mouthed, and he eased one of the two long-knives he carried.
‘I think—’
‘No one gives a shit what you think, okay, Pyke?’ Yana cut in. ‘Now be quiet. I’m trying to listen.’
‘Listen? Listen to what?’
Yana tilted her head. ‘Something …’
‘Form up!’ Goss bellowed.
Above, all round the square, windows crashed open. Arrow-fire raked the cobbles. The squad hunched, backs to each other, shields out. Goss kicked open a door only to have someone charge out and strike him in the chest with a woodsman’s axe.
It surprised Goss more than damaged him as he was wearing a heavy brigandine. He stabbed the man, pushed him aside, and then urged the squad to follow him in. A horde of Skolati burst from the surrounding doorways. The squad stabbed and thrust from behind their shields as they retreated into the building.
‘Lard, Yana, hold the door,’ Goss yelled.
‘Aye!’
While Lard jabbed, cursing, and Yana shield-bashed, Suth edged to a rear stairway. He watched Goss and Len crouch together in the middle of what were someone’s living quarters. ‘Can’t stay here,’ Len said and he picked up a pot and peered into it, sniffing.
Goss nodded heavily. ‘I know. I know. But there’s too damned many.’ He cocked his head, eyed Len speculatively. ‘You carrying?’
Len pursed his lips, considering, then nodded.
Goss stood. ‘Togg’s teats! Why didn’t you say so, dammit!’ He turned to where Lard and Yana hammered back with their shields, stabbing at those of the clamouring crowd who could push up to the door. He waved his disgust. ‘Clear the street.’
Len stood. ‘Keri! We’re on.’
Steps sounded on the stairs. Goss snapped his fingers at Suth, who was nearest. Suth charged up the stairway. He met a line of bearded men in boiled leather armour. The lead man swung a curved sword in a clumsy panicked arc. Suth let it pass then thrust straight through the man’s inner thigh. The fellow screamed and fell from the stairs into the room, where the rest finished him. The second leapt for Suth but he shifted sideways to let him fall past. The third swung for his head. He ducked, climbed higher and stabbed, severing the fellow’s ankle tendon. This one lost his footing and tumbled into Suth, who shrugged him off the stairs to fall and be finished.
‘Secure those rooms!’ Goss shouted.
‘Aye!’ Suth charged, shield high. He saw no one until he entered one room to find an open trapdoor, a ladder, and four Skolati soldiers. He charged. His shield-bash knocked three off balance. The fourth swung for his head, the blade cracking off his iron helmet, making his head ring and stars burst in his vision. He stabbed this one in the shoulder before spinning to put his back to a wall. They all closed at once, crowding one another. Suth trusted in his shield and concentrated on the one on his right. He parried a swing, sliding his shorter blade along the sword, and thrust low beneath the hauberk. The blade grated along the pelvis bone as it slid in.
Suth turned from that man without waiting to see him fall – the thrust had to be fatal. A blade skittered along the top of his shield; another hit his shoulder, numbing his shield-arm but not piercing the armour. Then the three were down and Len and Keri were there, long-knives bloodied.
‘That was stupid,’ Len told him, his voice low. ‘You tryin’ to win this war all by yourself? Next time you call for support, yes?’
Suth nodded, surprised to find his heart hammering, his throat parched and arms shaking. Keri was kneeling to clean her blade on the headscarf of one man; that casual gesture made Suth re-evaluate the woman.
Len cuffed his shoulder. ‘Now come with us.’
‘Yessir.’
They went to a room overlooking the street. Suth peered out. The street was jammed with Skolati citizens. Their screaming and cursing was an unintelligible roar. Soldiers fought to force their way through the mob, weapons held high. Len and Keri shrugged off their shoulder bags and knelt. They straightened, holding small dark green orbs in each hand.
Len used his elbow to nudge Suth back from the window. ‘Munitions!’ he yelled back towards the interior of the building.
‘Aye,’ came Goss’ answering shout.
Len leaned out to throw his, one to each side of the doorway, and ducked away from the window. Twin explosions shocked Suth, popping his ears and knocking him backwards. Dust streamed down from the roof. Keri leaned out, tossed her munitions farther, one after the other, and then went to one knee. Those eruptions echoed like hammer-strokes in the courtyard.
Len faced the interior, hands cupped to his mouth: ‘Clear!’ He scooped up his bag, grabbed Suth’s shoulder to propel him to the stairs. ‘Go!’
Downstairs the squad was formed up at the smoke-shrouded doorway, ready. ‘Go!’ Yana shouted, and they charged. Suth brought up the rear, covering Len and Keri. Outside he nearly tripped on men and women lying cut down on the street, or hobbling, soaked in blood from the countless minor slashing wounds of the munitions Keri called ‘sharpers’. A low moaning rose from countless wounded and dying. They escaped the courtyard, charged back up the way they’d come. After a few turns Keri shouted, pointing up a side alley, ‘This way!’
Goss signed a halt then came to her. ‘What is it?’
‘This should lead to a main way.’
Pyke waved his dismissal. ‘How would she know?’
‘Shut up,’ Suth told the man. Pyke glared his rage.
‘Okay.’ Goss pointed up the alley. ‘Let’s go.’
Suth kept to the rear behind the saboteurs. As they jogged along the narrow twisting way, he asked Keri, his voice low, ‘How do you know?’
She smiled, her teeth bright in the gloom. ‘Acoustics.’
‘What?’
‘Sounds. These sounds belong to a big space.’
All he could hear was the distorted clash and snarl of countless engagements all melded together into one rumbling as of a midnight thunderstorm. He shook his head – he was not used to cities. Ahead the squad was crouched where the alley opened on to a broad, treed boulevard that appeared to lead up from the waterfront. In the moonlight and shifting yellow glow of fires Suth glimpsed citizens running across the way carrying bundled possessions in their arms. Len tapped him, pointed up the boulevard. A squad of Moranth Blue marines. Goss waved an advance. They jogged up to the Blues.
As they went someone straightened among the Moranth: the young Adjunct. He’d been kneeling to examine dark shapes that resolved into a number of fallen Malazan soldiers. Goss offered the Adjunct a very truncated salute that he answered with a nod.
A gasp from Dim brought Suth’s attention to the fallen. They looked strange, skeletal, flesh drawn in and wrinkled, pulled back from grinning teeth. It was as if they were desiccated.
‘What is it, sir?’ Goss asked.
‘Looks like magery.’
‘We were told to expect none.’
‘That’s true, Sergeant.’ The Adjunct’s gauntleted hand went to the bright ivory grip of his sword, as if the movement were an unconscious habit of his while thinking. ‘I’m told there’s only one kind here.’ He was gazing up the boulevard to a tall building, spired, its arched roof silver in the moonlight.
‘Shit,’ Keri murmured, aside.
&nbs
p; ‘What is it?’ Suth asked, low.
‘Their Hood-spawned local cult.’
‘You’re with me,’ the Adjunct told Goss. He signed to the Blue commander, who jerked a nod and waved to his marines. They spread out, advancing. Goss motioned for his squad to take the centre behind the Adjunct.
More Malazan dead littered the stairs leading up to the building’s open door. It looked as though a squad had come to investigate something and been cut down by magery. Not one corpse of a defender could be seen. The Adjunct drew his blade and entered first. Half the Blue squad followed, then Goss motioned his in, and the remaining Blues brought up the rear. Within, braziers on tripods and lamps hanging from the distant ceiling lit a broad open chamber. Pillars ran in double rows along a centre aisle. Some sort of bright ornament, shaped like a starburst, hung on the far wall. Dark tapestries hinted at scenes of storm-racked waters and a woman in white flowing robes.
Four men stepped out from behind pillars to meet the Adjunct. They wore long priestly robes, were bearded, and carried stout staves. ‘You are a fool to have entered here,’ said one.
‘Surrender, and you can keep your religion,’ the Adjunct answered.
‘Fool! You cannot take our faith! The Lady is with us now. All those who dare to invade are doomed.’
The four struck their staves to the polished stone floor. Suth felt something strike him like a hand at his chest, or a gust of wind. Blue marines on either side clutched at their throats and helms, gagging. They fell to their knees. All those near the Adjunct, including Goss’s squad, remained standing. The four priests gaped at them, astonished. It might have been a trick of the uncertain light but the young Adjunct’s blade seemed to shine more brightly then. The Adjunct stepped up and swung. The priest raised his stave and the sword sliced right through the iron-braced dark wood. The priest staggered back, then his eyes blazed with an inner light and his lips twisted back from his teeth. ‘I see you now,’ he grated, his voice changed, somehow torn from his throat. ‘The Bitch Queen would send her soldier. But it will take more than you. I will drink your heart-blood.’
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