Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1)

by Peter Yard

  The stronghold of Shwu was also reporting that the enemy had brought up siege engines; trebuchets of their own, or even captured ones, and was now preparing to attack Shwu. Trebuchets on the northern wall of the Castle simply didn’t have the range. The ones on the top of the Keep paradoxically could barely reach Shwu's attackers who were visible by the many fires there that were once homes. When Tei got to the northern wall she could see puffs of greenish-yellow gas exploding about the base of Shwu. The gas was chlorine. At that range all projectiles were inaccurate, but gas doesn’t care, and if any drifted upwards well the defenders of Shwu had bigger problems. She could see firebombs exploding amongst the attackers. Also some exploding against the walls of the stronghold. Captured munitions certainly. How long before they got good enough at it so that the firebombs landed inside the stronghold? They couldn’t last, either Shwu or Castle, the other strongholds were sharing resources and soldiers via the tunnels but she knew it wasn’t enough.

  She had to keep moving; trying to see exactly what was happening. Giving commands. She saw Levin on top of the Keep with some other Councillors, dressed in full regalia. Finally, the robes had some use identifying their owners when they signaled commands to various captains. Everywhere about her as she ran along the rampart there were the thuds of trebuchet impacts, flashes of flame and smoke. And dead or injured Traders lying where they had fallen from the rising hail of bolts from the enemy. When she got to the southern gate she saw movement out in the desert. Relief forces? No. Her heart sank when she saw that the Bethor forces had large long range trebuchets, of a design she had not seen before. They were being positioned out of bolt range, ready to aim for the gates themselves. She grabbed the nearest soldier. There was fear in his eyes.

  “Trader! Why haven’t the trebuchets been taken out?”

  “We can’t reach them Councillor.”

  “Get our trebuchets to target them. Just do it.”

  “We can’t. They are in a blind spot of the Keep trebuchets. Same for the ones on the towers.”

  He was right. The trebuchets had limited mobility, and could not be moved. No one had thought they would setup in the desert.

  “Well …”

  There was a huge bang that she felt more than heard. Tei found herself, mouth open, face in rubble. Dazed. She sat up, spat out fragments of rock and blood. The soldier she had been talking to was staring lifelessly at her. “Sleep well.” She whispered, guilty that she didn’t even know his name.

  She got to her feet. They had been hit by a projectile from the new trebuchets in the desert. More would follow.

  There was another bang. But the rattle it made could only come from the gate. It couldn’t take much of that.

  The Captain of this wall scrambled over to her, keeping low. “Councilor, are you all right? You’re injured.” Pointing to her forehead.

  She nodded. Went to wipe away the dirt about her eyes, the hand came back covered in blood.

  “Councilor. We are lifting up some of the new ballistas. They have the range but they are small; they won't destroy the siege engines.”

  “But we might damage them enough.” She completed the chain of logic; hoping that that was the plan.

  They quickly set one up pointing through the new hole in the wall. The device was about her size, firing an enormous arrow. They wound up the sinew springs then one of the techs attached a package with a wick just behind the arrowhead. There was another crash as a projectile hit the door. They quickly aimed the ballista at one of the trebuchets, lit the wick, and fired. There was a great whoosh, and almost no recoil; it was anchored well. There was a trail of smoke through air leading to the trebuchet, a puff of smoke, flame, small figures running.

  “Quick! Reload for the other one.” The other trebuchet was now turning ready to aim at them, but trebuchets are large, and slow. They hit it with another puff of smoke and fire.

  “The fire isn’t big enough to destroy the trebuchets, the operators will quickly put it out. We will have to keep harrying them.” By this time another ballista had been brought up, setup and cocked.

  “How many of these flame arrows do you have?”

  “Maybe twenty. Not very many but enough I think.” He replied.

  “Looks like they are moving their trebs. I’ll see if we can get more of these fire arrows made.” She had a look through one of Mikel’s spyglasses. That confirmed it; the operators would risk getting hit to get the trebuchets out of range, and out of the immediate target area.

  “Yes, Councilor. I think they might be trying to get it out of range. We beat them.” He turned to his men they raised a cheer. Small victories.

  “They will try to sneak back after dark." She said. "Make sure the beacons are not lit, that will give them a clue to the distance and where the gate is, and see if your men can identify where they are. The moon will be up four hours after sunset. That gap is their opportunity to get into range without us seeing them. Stay dark and alert. When the moon comes up and you can see them, attack if they are in range.”

  An idea occurred to her; it was worth a try. “After dark, light two lamps and lower them on a rope to, about five meters lower than the actual beacons but separated by the same amount. Place these about twenty meters to the east. With any luck it may make them target the wrong location for the gate, and being that low most of the missiles just might only hit the ground in front of the wall. They could even run out of ammunition.”

  The enemy would see the ruse if they used fire projectiles but that would also reveal their location to the ballistas.

  Night. The enemy had retreated at sundown. They had both suffered heavy losses but Bethor’s army was far larger than Tanten. No doubt they had by now discovered and plundered the farms to the east. She sighed knowing nothing could be done about it. For a moment looking out into the darkness and the mass of lights, enemy campfires, she felt a shudder. The enormity of it threatened to overwhelm her, she wanted to run to her mother and father. More than that she wanted Mikel. He couldn’t help but she just needed him. If they were going to die they could at least be together. This must have been how the defenders of the Cities had felt just before the end. She had read the stories of the Fall, they had a profound sadness and sense of loss to them, but she had never really understood the terror.

  Many of the men and women on the walls took breaks where they were. They were exhausted. She had no idea of the losses, but it looked like there were hundreds dead and many more injured. Dead and injured were being cleared by torchlight. It was like a scene from the myths of Hades. Many of the injured refused to leave their posts and would likely die there. The supplies of Healing Beer were exhausted, many would likely now succumb to infections in spite of the efforts of the healers.

  Looking out at the mass of twinkling campfires she noticed some new campfires. A line of them, it must be a new attack. She yelled. “Everyone! Expect an attack any moment.” In the quiet her own voice seemed unreal, disconnected. The defenders, stood and looked at her, still trying to snap out of their exhaustion. She looked back out into the dark and saw the line of campfires a magical string of fiery jewels floating into the air. Coming towards them. They smashed against the wall, some hitting the ramparts spilling fire and smoke. A lot of smoke, through the plumes of smoke to the north she saw flames smashing gracefully along the upper walls of Shwu like bright orange waves, a glowing burning ocean in a storm. There was a flash of fire and smoke from the southern wall. She rushed over, jumping over debris, weapons, injured and the dead. The southern rampart had additional troops, ballistas, and some extra ammunition.

  “Captain! What is happening?” This wasn’t the same man she spoke to in the afternoon, she wondered what happened to him. But there was no time for that. The man answered her query but he had no insignia; promoted in the field.

  “Councillor, the lamps we lowered earlier worked for some time. They threw a lot of rocks that landed in the dirt, a few hit the lower wall but didn’t do any real damage. Now
they have switched to firebombs. That lit up the wall pretty well. I’m sure they will see the ruse now.” Yes, soon they would be making a major assault on the gate under cover of darkness and all the smoke. She would have to assign crossbowmen to the Teeth of the Snake and troops on the ramparts above to throw rocks, firebombs.

  "Can you use the firebombs to see where they are launched from?"

  "They've lit a lot of decoy fires. We're targeting the most likely positions but we don't have many fire arrows left."

  There was a loud bang, rock on wood. She felt the shudders from the door beneath her. Crash! This time she heard splintering wood. She could see teams rushing to add more beams to brace the gates. She looked north. Shwu was on fire.

  “Oh god no.”

  If this was their last stand then they would take as many of them with them as possible. She felt the anger rising up, it was so unfair that a brutal warmongering people should crush a fair and reasonable society, but that is just the way the world is. They wouldn’t spare the innocent, she knew that.

  “Bugger that! We won't go easily you bastards!”

  Inside she started praying desperately to whatever deities were listening, for her family, her people, her home, and lastly for herself. Was Mikel lying lifeless somewhere, never to be seen again, forgotten after her death? Well, she wasn't dead yet, and she could always hope for Mikel.

  Below her a growing roar started. It was coming from outside of the walls, behind her. The attack on the gate was starting in earnest. There were two loud bangs in quick succession, she heard the gate breaking. Tanten troops were pouring towards the gate with long pikes. Crossbowmen about her and inside the towers were firing into the mass below. It was all moving so quickly. Too fast to control. She picked up a crossbow to help, walked up to a niche in the battlement and started firing.

  She looked behind her to see if there was anything else she should know about. Shwu was engulfed in fire. Tears were running down her cheek and her heart was pounding. Beyond Shwu there were fires leading up to the Pass. There was something else there, a bright red light.

  twenty-one

  Ruins

  He had picked three Traders, prior to leaving for the Euphray. He trusted them all, he had travelled the Plains with these people, and these ones had the right mix of skills.

  Tarvis had grown to trust Mikel and now there was almost a family like bond between them. He suspected Tarvis would follow him anywhere. When he told the Traders of his plans Tarvis volunteered immediately.

  Kay was about thirty, she had refused to answer when Mikel had asked how old she was, so now he just guessed. She was very private, an excellent marksman with her custom-made and loved crossbow. She was apparently talkative to those she trusted, she still didn’t trust Mikel enough yet but she was no longer antagonistic towards him. He had heard she was divorced, and had two children in Tanten, he had pretended to ignore that information. When she was not looking Mikel stole a glance at her, her black hair pulled back in a pony tail was quite fetching combined with those eyes; such a deep brown as to be black. Anyway he wasn’t interested and she was chosen for her skill nothing else.

  John was in his mid thirties, a black haired, light skinned, brazen entrepreneur whose goal was to build up his own caravan. This war had not been kind to his ambitions. He had heard his collection of camels had been confiscated by the Lindin forces somewhere between Lindin and Sanfran. He liked making notes in a small notebook, he seemed interested in almost everything, sometimes Mikel thought he was looking at an alternate version of himself. He preferred the crossbow but was adept with bow and sword, and he claimed to have mastered the art of fast firing with a bow. Like Tarvis he was an excellent tracker, but Tarvis was definitely the better hunter, he seemed to have an instinctive understanding of the prey.

  Tarvis looked at Mikel's neck, gently lifting up the poultice. "Hmm. Good care. It should heal well, you'll be fine soon. Must hurt though. Did they give you any Healing Beer?”

  “Beer? No.”

  “An old recipe revived by the Cities after the Battle. Based on some old technology. Yeast that manufactures tetracycline antibiotics. Made by the Egyptians.”

  He knew what antibiotics were, but they were very hard to make. “Who were the Egyptians?”

  Tarvis shrugged. “Don’t know. Probably an old Earth pharma company. Anyway, you should be good.”

  No trace of sarcasm from Tarvis. He was an experienced, hardened Trader this was probably typical of what he had seen or had done to him. He didn’t know what a 'pharma company' was and right now he didn’t care.

  The four of them left the encampment and proceeded north within sight of the eastern bank of the Euphray. Tarvis led, he had been this way some years back. Existing maps were a bit vague on this whole region so a guide was a true bonus. The captured map was also very scant about anything not on the Bethor army’s planned path.

  All Mikel could think about was the pain and the uncertainty about where they were going, then whether it even made any sense. For the pain he used small amounts of an opium tincture, which made the trip bearable, slowly extending the period of time without it. He had nothing for the doubt except stubbornness.

  The countryside was getting hilly on either side of the river, the way ahead was flat but climbing slowly, there were even trees, which reminded Mikel of the rainforests in parts of Lind. They still kept to the right of the Euphray, which the map showed would peel away to the left as they went further north. The path went northwest through small mountain passes and thick forests, overgrown in places but not too much, indicating that from time to time it was still used. And always the sound of a babbling stream went with them.

  They finally left the river and headed up a row of hills so they could get a better view. They had to cover the last hundred meters on foot. At the top of the green treeless hill they found themselves within sight of the main road with the Valley stretching out, blue misted, beyond it. Tarvis turned to them.

  “The Xanadu Valley is like a smaller version of the Great Plain.”

  From what they could see there were a few small lakes, but with forests everywhere, in the near distance a couple of farms. He could easily trace the Euphray River winding through the forest, occasionally hidden, meandering up to the far blue lake. Far to the north, above and beyond the valley, beyond the mountains, there was a white-blued impression of a great mass rising like a ghost above the edge of the world. At first he thought it is a vast northern storm. But it wasn’t a storm.

  There were straight lines, structure. It was carved. It was a building, like a very tall pyramid. What he was seeing was not natural but too big to be artificial. He tried to imagine the size. He had no idea. He saw clouds, forming and swirling about its lower ramparts. It was not just high, it was also wide, it stretched across the width of his two hands splayed wide at arms length. He felt like he was offering a prayer to a pagan god, or a real god. A chill ran down his spine. Around him he suddenly noticed how small they were to everything they could see. He reached down and picked up a sprig of grass, he hoped it looked casual, he just needed to connect with the real world. A small ant ran up and down the grass stem. He dropped the grass. Tarvis, looked at Mikel.

  “Don’t worry son, we’ve all been there. It is a terrible thing to see everything you know made insignificant. Ahem. I haven’t been this far before. I’m surprised to see it so green, the stories only told of devastation. We just avoid it.”

  In the distance, on the other side of the largest lake, Mikel saw a clear patch. In his spyglass he saw the silhouette of buildings. Checking his map he found that the old path north went very close to a city on the northern side of the lake, but nowhere near the path taken by Bethor.

  Kay turned to Mikel. “The Xanadu Valley was desolate and poisoned after the Great Battle, few who ventured here returned. Those who came to these overlooks reported a wasteland. It became forbidden, taboo, forgotten. Over time it has been improving — but this is dramatic. Still, B
ethor must be very determined, everyone avoids it.”

  All of the Traders were surprised that it was now so verdant and suspected that taboos must still be keeping the superstitious people of the Plains away from the area.

  Tarvis said, “Greed and ambition can beat superstition and belief."

  "What about the farms?" Mikel said.

  Tarvis shrugged. "They have probably been edging closer to the valley for ages. But I don't think they would go further north."

  "Tarvis, look there," Kay said pointing.

  There was a cloud of dust to the north-east blowing from a side valley. The Bethor army was now moving out of sight behind some small mountains, heading east. Within days they would be at Tanten.

  They proceeded into the Valley of Xan, its ancient name of Xanadu rarely used now. John suggested a quick visit to the farms, maybe someone there had some advice about the Valley. Pretend to be after trade goods, get suggestions and advice, and perhaps find out a little about the passing army.

  The first farm they came to was on the same southern rolling, grassy slope heading down into the valley. There was long green grass, some tended fields, a cabin.

  "I don't see any activity." John said.

  "I don't like it. Someone should be working, or coming to meet us." Kay added.

  As they approached they could now see that the fields were trodden down, stripped. There were no animals, yet there were pens for them. The door to the cabin was ajar peering into a black empty space. Mikel then saw off to their right in the long grass some light colors, shapes, clothes. He knew what it meant. Like mounds of bleeding seaweed on a beach. He rode over, this time he would see. This was someone else's tragedy but he owed these people a witnessing.