by R. J. Leahy
"We may still need the MAAD,” she said. “I'm going to try and fix it."
"Get ... ass ... back,” came the reply, and for once she was glad the damn communicator didn't work.
Pulling the power module from the butt of the gun, she saw the problem—dust had settled on the connectors. In her haste, she hadn't secured it tightly enough.
Cursing herself now, she spit-cleaned the connectors and rapidly re-assembled the weapon. Flipping the power switch on, she was rewarded with the cannon's signature sound.
She was about to announce the news to Selanja when she heard the woman's cry in her ear.
"Sargon, your left flank is collapsing! They're encircling you. Get out! Jeena, the Rosh-dan are pouring in from the west. Sargon will be trapped."
Jeena whirled. A large force sweeping in from the west was rapidly surrounding Sargon's battalion—Jacob must have divided his forces before the attack. But where were they coming from? There was nothing to the west but the lake.
"Halamesh!” Jeena called suddenly. “Halamesh, answer me!” There was no response. “Selanja, look to the west. Can you see Halamesh's position?"
"Jeena, there is smoke coming from the lakeside."
So, they had come over the lake. They must have had rafts prepared and ready, swarming over Halamesh and his men. Jeena slumped. It meant that Halamesh was dead, and their plan was broken—there would be no surprise.
Her immediate concern, however, was getting Sargon and his army out.
"David, engage your cavalry,” she barked into the communicator. “You're going to have to break it up. Get those men out of there!"
From her right, a charging stream of kytars burst from behind their protective screen and charged into the battle, David leading the way. They crashed into the enemy's eastern flank, slicing through them and trying to work their way west to Sargon and his beleaguered troops.
The force of the charge initially threw back the front line of the Rosh-dan, and much of the Babylonian army was able to pull back as the cavalry took on the enemy. The Rosh-dan soon regrouped, however, and their second cavalry now charged from behind the lines, bottling up the Pyros troops.
David's progress slowed to a crawl and finally stopped. He was not able to reach Sargon. Making their stand, they held the line bravely as the shadows of the afternoon lengthened, allowing what remained of the Babylonian army to break for the walls of the city.
"We can't hold them much longer,” he shouted finally.
Jeena could see him, tall on his mount, his sword slashing, his body covered in blood.
"Sargon, can you fight your way back?” she asked. “David can't reach you."
She had never felt so impotent. The MAAD was useless now with the armies so entangled.
"I heard,” Sargon replied. His words came in gasps. “David, get your men out. You've done all you can."
"I'm sorry, Sargon,” David answered. “Retreat!” he shouted, and the riders began cutting their way back to the walls.
As the cavalry fell to the rear, the east flank collapsed. Between Jeena and Sargon stood the entire Army of God.
Jeena opened up with the pulse rifle, trying to create an opening for Sargon and his men. She could just see him in the distance, his bloody sword rising and falling. Her rifle was having no effect. Like ants, the Rosh-dan were swarming over his position.
"Fire the cannon, Jeena!” Sargon cried.
She looked at the weapon in her hands. From this distance it would kill him and all his men, and he knew it.
"I can't,” she whispered numbly.
"Fire, damn you! You can't save us. They will overrun the city!"
Suddenly, the enemy rushed over him, and she could see him no more. A horde was descending toward her.
"Forgive me,” she whispered and leveling the cannon, fired it into the battling mass of men. With the explosion, Sargon, his men and a host of the enemy disappeared from the face of the planet.
She stood unmoving. Blood ran in rivulets from her nose and ears.
"Jeena, get back!” shouted David. “Run to the gate."
But she did not run. She strode slowly back to the walls, firing the cannon repeatedly, her face cold and expressionless. In between blasts, she sprayed the enemy with the pulse rifle.
"David, where are you?” she asked, her voice eerily calm.
"On the wall. Jeena..."
"I need a kytar, a fast one. Meet me at the gate."
"Jeena, what...?"
"Do it now!" she screamed.
The rifle was finally empty. She fired the cannon one last time as she reached the city wall, the enemy at her heels. David was waiting for her, the reins of a kytar in his hands.
She leapt up on the animal.
"Get back inside. Halamesh is dead. I must get to the lake."
* * * *
David shuddered. The woman before him was hardly recognizable. Her face was ghostly white and grotesquely swollen, with large black circles surrounding her eyes. As she spoke, her head twitched, first in one direction and then in another, as though debating both sides of some internal argument.
It was her eyes, however, that struck him hardest. They were dull and cold, and he had the sickening feeling he was not speaking to a living woman.
"Jeena..."
"Goodbye, David,” she said and, kicking the animal in its flanks, raced off to the west.
The enemy was now at the walls, their numbers extending far back into the Bacchian Fields. Great battering rams were rolled to the gates. Ladders were thrown up, and men scurried up them.
There was no more ammunition for the rifles, and Ghannon was directing archers to fire at the host of men below. Selanja had collapsed after Sargon's death and lay oblivious.
The ram under them was covered with an iron roof the archers were unable to penetrate. The reverberations could be felt all along the wall as the heavy war machine was hurled against the gates.
"It will not hold long,” Ghannon warned.
A Rosh-dan soldier made it over the wall, and he cut him down. More were scrambling over the parapets.
"Soon it won't matter,” said David, rushing to his side. “They'll all be over the walls."
One enemy soldier had slipped over unseen and stood with his sword over the prostrate body of Selanja, ready to strike. He fell with a strangled cry, a blow from Bernd cutting him almost in half.
"Bernd!” called David, happily. “I didn't know you had made it."
"I was busy at the other end of the wall,” he replied, driving his sword into another invader and tossing his body to the ground below, “but I wanted to see Selanja. I heard about Sargon,” he added sadly.
Roused at last by the tumult around her, Selanja stirred and stood. Seeing the chaos at the walls, she picked up her dropped sword and strode to Bernd's side. She answered his questioning look.
"The time for mourning is not yet here. Now is not the time for tears. Now is the time for battle. Now is the time for revenge."
With a cry she threw herself into the melee, slashing and hewing everything before her, Bernd at her side. Together they drove back all who dared challenge them, until the stone beneath them flowed red with the blood of the enemy.
The battle raged on, with more of the Rosh-dan rushing over the walls, only to be driven back by the might of the defenders. But they could not hold out forever. Many had already breached the defenses, and there was fierce fighting in the plaza. The ram was taking a heavy toll on the gates. When those finally gave way, the entire army of the Rosh-dan would flood the city.
As if in echo to the steady pounding of the ram below them, a deafening thunderclap suddenly boomed from the west, followed a moment later by a great gale. Ghannon ran to the western wall, pointing towards the lake.
"There!” he cried. “Brace yourselves!"
Rushing toward the city was an enormous wall of water, thirty feet high and moving at great speed. Like an avalanche, it crushed everything in its path, snapping tall trees l
ike kindling and driving huge boulders before it.
Too late, the Rosh-dan saw it as well. A terrible cry went up, and a desperate race toward the rear began. The gates and wall were forgotten as each man fought to climb over his comrade in an attempt to flee.
It was all in vain. The towering wall of water was on them, crushing them and hurling them against the walls. Those that did not die instantly drowned agonizingly in the rushing, churning water.
The defenders looked in awe at the carnage below. Corpses of men and kytars floated by as the raging flood carried them east. Where only moments ago the sound of battle had rung in their ears, there was now only the rush of water and, in the distance, the faint cries of despair from the remaining Rosh-dan army.
David spoke into his communicator.
"Jeena? Jeena, please answer me.” He repeated his plea many times, but the only response was static.
Each in turn tried in vain to reach her, but it was no use. They all bowed their heads. Selanja, unable to hold back her grief, sank into a corner and wept.
Chapter 24
"No one ever won a war by dying for his country. You win a war by making some other poor, dumb bastard die for his country."
Quote attributed to 20th Century
General George S. Patton
Encyclopedic History of the Union, 22nd ed.
David leaned against a parapet of the western wall, gazing out at the sun dying a bloody death on the horizon. He had tried throughout the day to reach Jeena, without success. He accepted now that, in destroying the dam that had released the flood, she had perished.
Ghannon had left the wall earlier to see to the troops and check on the casualties. They had tried to get Selanja to go to the hospital, but she refused and had just now retired to the barracks. David was to meet with Ghannon later in the war room, but first he wanted to stop at the hospital.
Looking once more at the settling water to the west, he said a quiet goodbye to his friend.
Sarah was sitting up when he entered the ward. The place was a center of activity now, with wounded in every bed and some waiting in the hallway. David greeted them all and saw that they were being well cared for. Only when he had ensured their needs were attended to did he allow himself to sit with her.
"How are you feeling?” he asked.
"I'm good. The doctors say they will release me tomorrow.” Her limbs were still bandaged and the stench of the herb poultice was heavy. “I see you've gone native,” she said, smiling.
David looked at himself. He was filthy, covered in dirt and grime and blood—none of it his. Such was his luck and skill at arms that he had made it through the fighting with only a few scratches. He took note that he was also quite naked.
As he stood on the wall after the battle, he had followed Ghannon's lead and removed his soiled and bloody clothes. He had simply forgotten to re-dress. In light of all that had happened, it seemed a ridiculous thing to worry about. He wished he could have told Jeena.
"I'm sorry, Sarah, I guess I forgot."
She squeezed his hand. “It isn't important."
He spent an hour with her before the doctor ushered him out, saying she needed rest not talk. Promising to see her in the morning, he went to his room to wash up. When he was clean, he left to meet with the regent, passing the open door to Jeena's room. Hesitating a moment, he went in.
It felt like going back in time, but it had only been a day ago they had sat here, and she had smiled and laughed, as though the sorrow of a lifetime might finally be lifting. He wondered what she had found that had given her hope.
He saw her impe on the table and picked it up, rolling the stones in his fingers. I'm glad you found a moment of peace, my friend. I only wish it had been enough to save you.
He put the necklace down, his eyes beginning to burn, and quickly left.
* * * *
The regent slumped in her chair, shaking her head.
"I do not believe it."
"I am sorry,” Ghannon repeated, “but she is dead."
"It cannot be. She cannot die. Have I not seen her fate? Have I not looked into the eye of the beast and seen them enter this city?
Ghannon shook his head. “I do not understand your questions, Regent."
She did not hear him. “Yet, if she is truly gone, then the new age is stillborn. Hope is abandoned. Darkness will cover mankind, and all my visions are naught but an old woman's dreams,” she whispered.
"We who remain will never abandon you, or our city, Regent,” Ghannon said, misinterpreting her grief.
"What? What did you say, Ghannon?"
"Only that we are making new plans to defend the city. We will fight to the last man and woman."
"Fight? Then the war is not won?"
"No, Regent, not yet.” He explained their present situation, informing her of the death of Halamash and Sargon. “It was thought the flood and the great loses they suffered would have been enough to drive them back to New Jerusalem, but it appears they still have some fight left in them. Jacob is mad. He is willing to exterminate his entire army to destroy us. He has them digging in, preparing to wait until the waters recede. At that time, I assume they will attack again."
"And can we withstand another attack?"
Ghannon paused, then answered truthfully. “No."
"I see. Well, then, we will do what we can, since we can do nothing else. I will inform the people and send word to the other cities so they may prepare in whatever way they can. And, Ghannon, please thank your men for me. Victory or no, their heroism and sacrifice shall not be forgotten."
He excused himself and began to leave.
"Has Selanja begun to grieve for Sargon?” Elaina asked.
"Yes."
"That is good. Give her tomorrow as well, then assign her some simple duties to keep her occupied."
"But, Regent, she in command now."
"I know, but she needs you to take on that responsibility for a time. Do not worry, she will do as you say. When she does not, then she will be well enough to assume command."
When he was gone she went to the window and looked out upon the city below. Her body began to shake, and she clutched at the drapery for support.
"Ishtar! Ishtar, why have you forsaken me!” she cried.
* * * *
David sat down wearily. He had not slept in almost two days, and his mind felt numb, his limbs heavy. Ghannon stood across the war table, reviewing the casualty list.
"Of the fifteen thousand rifles, twelve thousand are still able, though, of course, the ammunition is spent. They will be reassigned to the main army group. Of that we have many less than fifty thousand still able to bear arms."
"Half my cavalry was decimated,” David said sadly. “I have maybe six thousand who can still ride a kytar or carry a sword."
"A total remaining force of less than sixty thousand, against how many remaining Rosh-dan?"
"I have been trying to estimate their losses. Our rifle lines and infantry must have accounted for a hundred thousand, at least. Add to that another fifty thousand that fell to the MAAD."
"And the flood,” Ghannon said. “Great God Anil, but there must have been a hundred thousand men caught under the waters."
David shook his head at the numbers. Over a quarter-million dead, and yet still they stayed, preparing to fight again.
"David, there is something I need to confess,” Ghannon said, his face pained.
He looked inquiringly at the grim soldier.
"Are you sure I'm the one to hear it?” he asked.
"Yes, for you were closest to her. I obeyed Captain Garza out of duty, but in my heart I never fully trusted her commitment to Uruk or to our cause. I never called her General. Yet in the end, she gave up her life for my city and my people and proved herself better than Ghannon. I was petty and wrong and I am shamed by my actions."
"It's all right, Ghannon, I'm sure she'd understand. Trusting people was hard for her, too. I don't think she ever really had much luck
making friends, but I know that here in Uruk she had hoped to find a home.” He laid his head in his hands.
"You are tired,” Ghannon said. “I have had sentries posted on the walls, though I do not expect an attack until the waters have receded. Get some rest; we will not be needed for several days."
David nodded. “You, too."
"Later. First, I must go to the Temple of Anil and pray. I will pray for General Garza, and I will pray for myself. I will pray for forgiveness."
* * * *
David jolted awake; the walls of his apartment echoed with the blare of the city horns. Jumping to his feet, he ran out into the hallway, encountering a shimhatu.
"What's happened? Why do the horns blow?"
"I do not know, Commander, but there is a great commotion at the gates,” the girl answered.
Rushing past her, he leapt down the steps, racing out of the palace toward the city gates. Could the Rosh-dan already be attacking? But, no, the fields must still be flooded. Or have I slept for days?
Confused and disoriented, he pushed through the crowd that had gathered at the main gate.
"What's happened?” he asked a sentry. “Why do the horns blow?"
The man pointed at the waters lapping up against the gates.
"Look!” he cried.
In muddy water up to his waist walked Ghannon. In his arms, he carried the limp, unconscious body of Jeena Garza.
David leapt into the water with a cry, gently taking Jeena from him.
"Is she...?” He was unable to finish the question.
"She lives still,” Ghannon answered. “She breathed several times as I carried her."
A litter arrived, and David placed her in it tenderly, ordering the bearers to take her with all speed to the hospital. He turned to Ghannon.
"How did you find her?"
"I could not sleep. Dreams troubled me. In them, I heard the general speaking to me, but with words kind and gentle that I did not deserve. I had come to the wall to find some peace and was looking upon the water when something caught my eye—a body draped over a piece of driftwood—and I turned the binoculars toward it. When I saw the emblem of Pyros on the armor, my heart jumped. I called to others and raced into the waters to retrieve her."