An Imperial Gambit (Wardens of Issalia Book 3)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “It is time, Nick,” Marcella said, her tone somber. “The catapult is loaded and in position. You simply need to pull the trigger, but you must wait until my command.”

  Spuretti turned toward the catapult and nodded. “I understand, Captain. I survived a war against an army of banshees. If Issal wills it, I’ll survive this as well.”

  Without another word, he broke into a run. Chuli watched him cross the open ground, wiggle between the spiked barricade, and approach the armed catapult.

  At the end of the road, the second steam carriage had come into view, both moving closer at a methodical pace, trailed by two columns of smoke and a mass of marching soldiers. Around the bend, the enemy army continued to advance, a force of thousands coming to face a garrison manned by hundreds. Regardless, Chuli did not fear the army itself. She feared the weapons they possessed.

  “Oh, no,” Jonah said, pointing to the east. “They’ve stopped.”

  Chuli grimaced while staring at the steam carriages, stopped more than a quarter mile down the road. Her focus shifted to the location with the rune on the cliff wall. Although it was difficult to notice in the shadows cast by the evening sun, she could tell that the enemy had not yet advanced far enough.

  Jonah shook his head. “If they stop for more than an hour, this won’t work.”

  “Come on,” Marcella muttered. “Keep moving, you toad lickers.”

  The machines at the front remained in place while the trailing column of Imperial soldiers gathered. In the distance, behind the army, Chuli observed rising smoke trails from the other steam carriages. Everyone waited in quiet, the only sounds coming from the rush of surf below and the whistle of the wind slipping through the tiny gaps in the garrison palisade.

  Nobody moved, not among the kingdom troops nor among the distant Imperial army. A tension filled the air as the two forces faced one another from a distance. Then, smoke began to billow from the steam carriages at the fore, and the machines resumed their advance.

  Recalling the catapults towed behind the machines, Chuli wondered how far they could launch their projectiles. Her attention shifted from the approaching machines to the rune on the cliff as she attempted to gauge the distance. As if the enemy had read her mind, her question was answered.

  A small object flew up from the first catapult, the metal on it glinting in the sun as it spun and hurtled toward them.

  “Launch!” Marcella shouted. “Now, Spuretti! Launch and run!”

  With a thump, Spuretti’s catapult arm flung forward, sending the boulder in the launch basket sailing through the air. Rather than heading toward the advancing enemy, the rock angled toward the cliff face.

  The object fired by the Imperial catapult fell from the sky, the bronze glinting in the sun as it spun about. Too late, Spuretti turned to run. An explosion blasted the catapult apart, sent a massive spray of earth into the air, and caused the remains to erupt in a tower of green flame. Debris rained upon the kingdom army and forced Chuli to cover her head for protection. When she lowered her arms, she found the catapult destroyed, burning components littering the road, and a crater where the bomb had struck. Similarly, Spuretti was dead, his mangled corpse on fire.

  The rock Spuretti had launched struck the cliff face with a loud crack. A massive rumble came from the cliff as it shattered and collapsed in a landslide. Millions of tons of rock tumbled down and rolled toward the sea – a wall of earth that plowed through both Imperial steam carriages and the war machines behind them. Flash bombs on board the machines ignited, resulting in distant booming explosions and eruptions of green flame. Seconds passed and the landslide continued, filling the air with a cloud of dust that mixed with the black smoke rising from the burning carriages. The tide of rock swept one of the carriages over the cliff edge, and it disappeared while the other was buried. A mixture of dust and smoke churned amidst the landslide and made it impossible to see anything of the army beyond it.

  As the dust settled, the reality of what had happened set in. The destruction was massive, leaving a wall of rock and earth across the entire road, obscuring the enemy army from view. During the entire scene, the people surrounding Chuli had remained silent. That is, until Jonah’s voice broke the spell.

  “That worked even better than I had hoped.” Jonah sounded impressed with himself.

  Someone among the soldiers behind them cheered. Another cheer joined the first, calling out Marcella’s name. Others joined in with cheers of their own, the soldiers breaking ranks as their fists pumped toward the sky. It was a small victory, but a victory regardless.

  The first part of their plan had worked. Jonah’s idea to use the Brittle rune on the cliff face had created a new obstacle between the approaching army and the garrison while also depleting the enemy of two catapults and a portion of their flash bombs. Yet, Chuli’s gaze fell on the still-burning fire as it feasted on the remains of their only catapult.

  Among the flames, she saw the outline of Spuretti’s burning body, charred beyond recognition. How many others will die before the day is through?

  15

  Deathtrap

  Jonah stood atop the scaffold inside the garrison walls, his hands gripping two of the wooden posts that formed the wall. Touching the wood left his hands oily – a side effect of whatever was used to make the wood fire retardant. After seeing how quickly a flash bomb had destroyed the catapult, he doubted that anything could prevent flash powder from burning the wooden palisades. Jonah hoped the use of magic might delay the inevitable. That task was up to him and Torney. Where is Torney? He should be back by now, Jonah thought.

  Archers lined the scaffold to both sides of him, a dozen to his left, more to his right. All the other soldiers had already vacated through the tunnel. He glanced at Chuli, who stood beside him, and found her staring toward the Imperial Army…out there…somewhere.

  Ten glowstones lined each side of the road before them, lighting the area between the garrison wall and the barrier of stakes that stood hundreds of feet away. Beyond the barrier was darkness.

  Another flash of green lit up the night. A beat later, the thump of an explosion shook the ground. It was the eighth such explosion in the past hour.

  “How many of those flash bombs do they have?” Jonah muttered.

  “I do not know, Jonah Selbin,” Chuli said, her tone contemplative. “Perhaps we should sneak out and get a count of them.”

  He gave Chuli a sidelong glance and found her faintly lit by the pale blue light from the road. “You’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

  “Perhaps.” The hint of a smile turned the corners of her lips.

  Jonah smiled in return but it quickly slid away as he stared out upon the night, wondering what the enemy might be planning. “I wish we could see past the barrier. I feel like the entire army is standing just beyond the light and those bombs are just some sort of distraction.”

  Chuli glared out into the night and then nodded. “That is likely what they are doing.”

  “Why waste the bombs, then?”

  “It’s doubtful they sent the steam carriages and catapults without the intent to use them.” Chuli’s tone was, again, thoughtful. “Men on foot, and even those on horseback, can scale the landslide without serious difficulty, but there is no way for the machines to pass the landslide. If they must remove it, bombs seem like a good way to do so.”

  Jonah appraised Chuli for a long moment before nodding. “You’re smarter than I thought. Perhaps it’s because you are so quiet.”

  Torney appeared from behind Chuli, walking toward her and Jonah. “Have you two been up here yapping this entire time?”

  “It took you long enough,” Jonah chided. “Did you lose your way to the jakes, or did you take a nap while you were away?”

  Torney snorted. “I wish. A nap sounds wonderful.” He fell quiet for a moment as he stared down the road. “I miss Rena. This whole thing…I have a bad feeling about it. It makes me wish I had never agreed to join this mission…that I was
instead back at the Ward with her beside me.”

  Chuli put her hand on his shoulder. “It is well that you care so much about her. You might find solace in knowing what we do here is important. Her life might be among those we save tonight.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Chuli. That gives me a good reason to fight…and to survive. I can’t wait to see her again.”

  “Good. Now be quiet.” Chuli hushed him. “They’re out there, and they might attack at any moment.”

  With a glance toward the road, Torney grimaced. “It’s odd, but I find the waiting worse than the idea of the Imperial troops attacking. I swear my anxiety doubles every five minutes and doubles again each time I hear an explosion.” He frowned at Chuli. “You’re sure we are out of bowshot?”

  Chuli nodded. “Those stakes are over six hundred feet away, and the wind is blowing at our backs. Even using longbows, they would need to be well inside the stakes for an arrow to clear the wall.”

  Torney’s eyes grew wide. “What’s that?”

  Jonah turned to find a something moving in the shadows beyond the barrier. Dim light reflected off surfaces as he tried to make out what it was.

  “Those are raised shields,” Chuli said. “It looks like three or more soldiers in a cluster.”

  A twang sounded from their right as an archer loosed an arrow. Moments later, the distant clang of an arrow striking metal rang in the night. The soldiers behind the shield cluster did not slow until they reached the barricade of stakes. A hand emerged and set something on the ground while the cluster of shields began moving along the row of stakes.

  “It’s flash powder!” Jonah exclaimed. “They’re pouring it at the base of the stakes. They intend to burn the barricade.”

  Chuli looked at Jonah with alarm in her eyes and then looked down at the bucket of grease-soaked rags beside her.

  “Do one of you have a flint? I have an idea.” She drew an arrow, grabbed a strip cloth, and wrapped it about the arrowhead. “They are going to burn it, anyway. Why not do it on our terms?”

  By then, Torney had his flint and striker out. Turning toward him, Chuli held the arrow out and he began to strike it, creating sparks. At the third strike, the rag caught fire.

  Chuli turned toward the road with her bow nocked, the flaming arrow flickering in the breeze. She held steady and loosed. A streak of orange sailed into the sky and landed near one of the stakes. The fire momentarily snuffed out, but then came back to life, licking the neighboring stake as the flame climbed the arrow shaft.

  “Huh.” Chuli said. “I expected more…”

  A flare of green burst from the area and streaked across the road, toward the men behind the cluster of shields. The barricade of stakes caught on fire while yelps of surprise arose. The men, four in all, scattered. The man with the bucket of flash powder realized that the flame was burning toward him, following the trail of powder. He dropped the bucket just before the flame reached it. A towering flash of green flame shot up, turning orange as it receded. Three of the men were on fire. One fell to the ground and began to roll about. The other two flailed mindlessly, one stumbling to the ground and the other launching himself over the cliff edge.

  In the light of the fire, Jonah saw the mass of enemy soldiers beyond it, waiting for the fire to die down. He suspected the enemy would wait for the fire to burn out and then attack.

  He was wrong.

  Small green blasts appeared in the distance, joined by a staccato of bangs. Something thudded against the wall right in front of Jonah, other thuds coming from his left and right. A man cried out and stumbled, holding his shoulder. Another soldier’s head jerked backward, the man’s eye socket oozing blood as he staggered and fell from the scaffold.

  “Get down!” Marcella screamed from below. “Everyone get down!”

  Squatting with his back to the wall, Jonah found Chuli and Torney doing the same.

  “So much for being beyond the range of their bows,” Jonah said.

  “What are those things?” Torney asked, flinching when the thud from a shot struck the log behind him.

  “I don’t know. Judging by the green blasts, whatever they are, they use flash powder.”

  The bangs of the odd enemy weapons fell quiet, replaced by the rumble of approaching footsteps on the wooden scaffolding. Marcella emerged from the darkness in a crouch, keeping her head below the top of the wall. The woman slowed as she reached them, her face a thundercloud as she growled at Chuli.

  “Who told you to loose your arrow?”

  Chuli blinked. “Nobody, Captain. I had an idea...”

  “Our barricade is now on fire and there will be nothing between us and the enemy but dirt and a few glowstones!”

  Jonah interjected. “They were going to burn the barricade, anyway. Chuli merely beat them to it, and she took out a few of the enemy in the process.” Marcella glared at Jonah and he hastily added, “They were spreading flash powder, using a cluster of shields to protect them while they did it.”

  The fire in the captain’s eyes simmered “Well, next time, be sure to communicate with me. I command this post, and the lives of everyone here are my responsibility.”

  “You are correct, Captain” Chuli nodded, her eyes flicking toward Marcella and away in shame. “I apologize.”

  Jonah turned and peeked over the wall. The fires had died down, and the enemy had advanced, the front line waiting just beyond the remnants of the barricade.

  “If it’s all the same with you, Captain, I think it’s time to initiate the next part of the plan.”

  Marcella cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted. “Archers, ready yourselves. When they advance, fire at will.” She then put one hand on Jonah’s shoulder, the other on Torney’s. “You two be ready. And, for Issal’s sake, don’t die. If we lose you, we’ll never hold them long enough to evacuate.”

  The captain turned and scurried down the scaffold, crouching down while offering words of encouragement to the soldiers as they waited for the attack. They didn’t have to wait long.

  With a roar, the enemy army charged. Archers inside the garrison raised their bows and began loosing arrows that arced through the air to rain death down upon the enemy. Dozens of Imperial soldiers fell, but others replaced them. In mere moments, a smattering of them slowed at around three hundred feet. They lifted oddly shaped metal tubes, aimed, and a flash of green blasted from them. A female archer to Jonah’s left staggered backward. Jonah’s eyes widened as blood oozed from a hole in the woman’s forehead. She fell backward, off the scaffold, to the ground below.

  He turned and saw other soldiers with the same weapons. A small flash of green flame lit the night and a soldier beyond Torney screamed when struck.

  Jonah ducked behind the wall as terror raced through his veins. People were dying and he could be next. He needed to act.

  “Now, Torney!” Jonah roared. “Do it now!”

  Jonah closed his eyes and latched on to his fear. Chaos surrounded him – raw, angry energy he absorbed until he thought he might burst. He opened his eyes, stood, and stared down at the rune he had carefully traced at the side of the road. Releasing the energy into the rune, it began to glow. A wave of exhaustion struck and caused his knees to buckle. He gripped two of the sharpened log ends for support and glanced to his left.

  Torney charged his own symbol, fifty feet inland from Jonah’s rune. Jonah watched his own rune pulse and fade, curious as to the effect that would occur. This particular rune remained among the few augmentations he had yet to see attempted.

  The ground before the rune suddenly burst upward in a shockwave, expanding as it rolled toward the attackers. Enemy soldiers cried out and tried to scramble away, but the wave of earth moved too quickly. It blasted through, over and beyond the men, tossing them as if they were leaves before a stiff autumn breeze. Torney’s shockwave followed, rolling eastward toward the attacking army in an ever-widening path until it eclipsed the torn earth from Jonah’s shockwave. In moments, nothing remained standing
within the six-hundred-foot battleground that had briefly existed.

  Another shockwave blasted out from Jonah’s rune, pulverizing the earth as it headed east, trailed by Torney’s shockwave.

  “How long will this continue?” Chuli asked.

  Jonah shrugged. “I guess the same as any other rune. They will begin to weaken in about an hour and will die off shortly after that.”

  Torney wiped his brow and ran his hand down his face, appearing exhausted. “Well, now we know why Alridge refused to let us test this one near the Ward.”

  “Yes we do.” Jonah agreed as cries of pain and calls for help came from nearby. “We had better go see if we can heal any of the wounded.”

  Torney grunted. “Now? I’m exhausted, and I could really use some rest.”

  Jonah turned away, speaking back at Torney over his shoulder. “As King Cassius used to say to me, you can rest when you’re dead.”

  The three Wardens moved down the scaffold, toward a woman who held her hand to her chest, her back against the wall. Squatting beside her, Jonah put his hand on her hand, which covered her wound. Chuli moved past Jonah and knelt to the other side of the injured woman. Her face was pale, her forehead covered in sweat, her breathing ragged. He closed his eyes, sank into meditation, and found his source of Order.

  The woman’s life force was dim, weak. Inside her, he found a storm of Chaos surrounding an object that appeared black in his mind’s eye – an object Order could not heal.

  Jonah opened his eyes. “There’s something in your shoulder. We need to cut it out so I can heal you.”

  The wounded woman nodded weakly. Chuli gripped her hand and moved it from the wound. Dark blood oozed from it and Jonah steeled himself for what he must do. He drew his knife and found himself wishing that the medicus had not left with Thiron.

  A blast of heat and flash of green light erupted behind Jonah. The explosion was deafening. Torney fell over Jonah, struck the scaffold, and rolled off. He hit the ground below, hard, and fell still. Debris rained down upon the garrison interior, joined by shouts and screams.