The New Day

by Lorraine Thomson

  “They only care about themselves,” David said.

  “She doesn’t know it, but Juno has just signed her own death warrant,” Slade replied. He glanced around.

  “We have you concealed,” Einstein said. “You can go ahead.”

  Slade nodded and took out the gun.

  The flag-bearer pulled out the flag and crossed back over the bridge. She paused in front of the three Monitors, dipped her head, then furled up the flag and disappeared back into the ranks.

  Niven, Juno and Willow turned and prepared to descend from the scaffold. Niven went first.

  “He’s all puffed up,” Sorrel whispered.

  “Full of his own importance,” David replied.

  “This is the greatest moment of his life,” Einstein said. “Every choice he has made has led him here.”

  Juno was next. She paused before descending and looked right along the wall at Sorrel. Though Juno’s face was as beautiful and serene as ever, when she gazed into Sorrel’s eyes, Sorrel caught her breath, feeling as though she had been plunged into an icy mountain stream. It was a relief when Juno broke the connection and Sorrel could breathe again.

  “She looked right at you,” David said.

  “I know,” Sorrel replied. “I felt it.”

  “She has no idea what’s coming.” Slade held the gun out of sight below the wall. “She thinks she’s still in control of everything – and this one’s no better.”

  The grin on Willow’s face was as wide as the Great Trench, her glee plain for all to see.

  “She’s worse,” David said. “She’s smiling at people, knowing she is about to condemn them to death.”

  When they’d descended from the scaffold, Niven, Juno and Willow stood behind the South Gate and prepared to leave the city. Nothing in the way they behaved suggested their intent to betray every living soul in Dinawl.

  The gates swung open and the three of them walked out, or at least Niven and Willow did; Juno glided.

  The people crushed forward for a view from the open gates, though no-one crossed the line between inside and out.

  Slade raised his gun.

  “I’ll wait until they’ve crossed the bridge,” he murmured, “and they’re standing in line.”

  “You need to get them all,” Brig said.

  “Don’t worry,” Slade replied. “One right after the other.”

  The bridge was not wide enough to cross three abreast, so Juno went over first, with Niven and Willow side-by-side behind her. The dogs strained on their leashes as she approached.

  “Juno,” Slade drew a bead on her, “then Niven.”

  Juno was still on the bridge when a sound like the crack of thunder ripped through the air. For the briefest of moments, the scene was frozen in time, and then Juno tumbled from the bridge into the Great Trench. Gasps arose from the crowd in Dinawl who could see. The others, further back, clamoured to know what had happened.

  Sorrel glanced at Slade, but he looked bewildered.

  “That wasn’t me.”

  The crowd was shocked into silence as another two cracks sounded. People gasped as Niven’s arms flew up. Willow screamed and turned around to face Dinawl, but her cries were cut short by another burst of fire. Behind her, Niven collapsed to his knees then fell into the grave he had planned for others.

  Willow tried to run towards the city, but it was too little too late. She was still on the bridge when another crack sounded, and blood spurted into the air.

  The sound of Willow’s screaming was still echoing off the city walls as the final breath left her body.

  Those who had witnessed the deaths of their leaders could not comprehend what they had seen, but their stunned silence was soon shattered by bawling and yelling from those further back demanding to know what was happening. The hum of disbelieving voices swarmed into the air as word spread.

  Slade looked around at his companions. “I didn’t fire a shot – Juno was killed by her own.”

  He was cut off by a crackling sound so loud, Sorrel looked at the sky to see if it was breaking. The crackling stopped, only to be replaced by an amplified, booming voice.

  “People of Dinawl, your leaders are no more. Surrender now and know mercy. Resist and you will suffer.”

  “They were always going to kill her,” Slade said. “It was part of the plan.”

  “The gates,” Yolanda said, “we need to close the gates.”

  “CLOSE THE GATES,” David yelled.

  His words were repeated by others in the crowd and the bailiffs, who had been as astounded as anyone by the deaths of Juno, Niven and Willow, suddenly recovered their wits. The people standing in the gateway were cleared, the gates swung closed and barred.

  “Someone needs to take charge,” Einstein said, “before the bailiffs take it upon themselves.”

  Sorrel looked at Yolanda. “They are your people.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” Yolanda said.

  “They need you.”

  “They need someone – but I always worked behind the scenes – I was never in it for the glory.”

  “That’s why it should be you.”

  “Sorrel is right,” Slade said. “It should be you.”

  Yolanda looked down at the street where fear was on the rise and panic was already taking grip. Skirmishes broke out and bailiffs moved in, batons at the ready.

  “It will get worse,” Einstein said. “You need to pull them together before they pull themselves apart.”

  “I can help you,” Slade said. “I still have friends among the bailiffs.”

  Yolanda nodded and sucked in a deep breath before walking to the edge of the platform.

  “Friends, neighbours, fellow citizens.” When no-one paid attention, she tried again, this time bellowing the words. “FRIENDS, NEIGHBOURS, FELLOW CITIZENS!”

  This time they took note. The agitation settled down and a sea of faces looked up at Yolanda.

  “The Monitors are hostile and mean to take the city from us. We must work together to defend ourselves.”

  “How can we defend ourselves against magic?” someone called. Others muttered in agreement.

  “There is no magic. They have a few weapons from Before, but we have weapons too – and we have these walls.”

  “Who put you in charge?”

  Yolanda peered into the crowd. “Who said that?”

  There was no answer.

  “Gone shy on me, huh? Well, if you think you can do a better job, come on up.” She looked across the crowd. “That goes for all of you. If anyone thinks they can do better, speak up now or hold your peace.”

  People looked around, some of them grinning, but no-one spoke up.

  Yolanda snorted. “Thought as much – all mouth and no trousers.”

  This time, there were outbreaks of laughter in the crowd.

  “Go on, you tell ‘em.”

  Yolanda’s eyes blazed with passion. “This is our city to defend and defend it we must.”

  “Dinawl forever!”

  Yolanda grinned, but only for a moment.

  “This will be a tough fight, but if we work together, I know we can win.” She pointed at Slade. “Slade knows the ways of the Monitors – he will take charge of the bailiffs. Listen to what he says – pass the information on – work together! Dinawl forever, surrender never!”

  The crowd took up the chant. When they had repeated it three times, Yolanda raised her hands for silence.

  “Crossbows and catapults to the wall. Let us defend our city!”

  “You heard the woman, let’s get to it,” Slade said.

  The words were barely out of his mouth before he was in conference with the red-collared bailiffs.

  Yolanda turned to Sorrel and the rest of the group. “Sorrel and David – you are my eyes. I want you watching the army. The rest of you can help work the catapults and crossbows. When they start coming at us, I want it raining rocks and arrows.”

  “Kala’s got sharp eyes,” Sorrel said.

/>   “Okay – she’s on watch too. Anything happens out there, I want to know about it.”

  “There’s something happening right now,” Kala said.

  17.

  War

  “Catapults at the ready,” Yolanda called, “and fire.”

  A torrent of rocks flew into the air, but most fell well short of their targets, and none caused serious damage to the enemy. Instead, they thudded impotently into the ground on the city side of the trench.

  “It’s no use,” Slade said. “They’re too far away – we need them on this side of the ditch.”

  Along the length of the trench, the army was constructing no fewer than six bridges, each of them wider and stronger than the one Juno, Niven and Willow had crossed, and all they could do was watch.

  Sorrel knew the army was coming, had seen it for herself, and she thought she knew what it would be like, but now that it was happening, the reality was bigger, noisier and much more frightening than she had ever imagined.

  Everyone was shouting and running around, and though there was a kind of purpose, a sense that some people knew what they were doing, mostly it felt like chaos, fear and desperation.

  “We can’t just watch them march right up to the city,” Yolanda said.

  “They need to be closer before we can hit them,” Brig replied.

  “What about the crossbows?”

  “They have no further range than the catapults,” Slade said. “We can put on a show, but we’ll be wasting arrows.”

  Yolanda gritted her teeth. “Meanwhile, we just sit here and watch them march right up to our city. Do you think Niven planned it this way?”

  “Niven was not as smart as he thought he was,” Einstein said. “The Monitors on the other hand – they know what they are doing.”

  Yolanda groaned.

  “Juno didn’t know as much as she thought she did, and she was a Monitor,” Sorrel said.

  “Thanks for the reminder,” Yolanda said. “I needed to hear that.”

  “Can’t you just shoot them?” Sorrel asked Slade.

  “If I had plenty of bullets to spare I could give it a go. The truth is – we need to steel our nerves.”

  “Reload the catapults,” Yolanda ordered. “Let’s make sure we’re ready for them when they come.”

  “They’re coming now,” Sorrel said. “Look there.”

  She pointed to the original bridge. Seven people were crossing it carrying a log trussed up in a harness, three on one side, four on the other. Lined up behind these seven and ready to follow them, was a battalion of soldiers.

  “Order the crossbows to the ready,” Yolanda said to Slade. “We’ll pick them off as they cross.”

  “That log is a battering ram,” Einstein said. “They mean to break through the gates.”

  “We’ll be ready for them,” Slade said. He strode off, yelling instructions. “Boiling water – to the gateway – now!”

  “They’re on our side of the trench,” Sorrel shouted.

  The seven carrying the log stormed towards the gates.

  “Shoot them now,” Sorrel shouted at the archers, but even as they took aim, the sound of gunshot blasted through the air. Arrows let loose by frightened hands flew wild and wide of the mark.

  Bullets whizzed by Sorrel’s head. She ducked down behind the wall, covering her ears as a hail of ammunition clanged off the metal parts of the wall and sent stone and wood chips flying from the other parts. One of the archers screamed and fell off the scaffold.

  A bailiff shouted at her from the street below. “What’s happening?”

  Fearing that the top of her head would be torn off, Sorrel peered over the wall.

  “They’re almost at the gates,” she called out.

  “Where’s the boiling water?” someone shouted.

  Another volley of gunfire was unleashed when the archers tried to take aim again.

  David ducked down beside her. “They’re crossing the other bridges – they have ladders.”

  “They’re going for the walls,” Kala shouted. “Keep them off.”

  Hunching down, David ran along the scaffold to where the top of a ladder had appeared. He stood up and pushed it off, ducking again when he was shot at.

  “Hands at the gateway!”

  Sorrel scrambled along the platform to the gates and helped hoist a vat of steaming water onto the ledge above the South Gate. As they swung it around, the water slooshed, sending scalding droplets spraying over her hands. She winced but kept hold of the rope.

  “Steady now.”

  A large bald man guided the load onto the ledge. Once they’d unstrapped it, he peered at her.

  “You okay, girl? There’s no blood in your face.”

  His bald head looked as though it had been polished with oil. He stank of meat and Sorrel immediately got the impression that his small, sharp eyes were accustomed to seeking out weakness in others.

  Though she was made of nothing but trembles and shakes, Sorrel stood to her full height. “I’m fine. How are we going to do this?”

  The bald man pointed to several large holes drilled in the ledge. “Killing holes. They come to the gate, we pour the boiling water over them. They run away, wah, wah, wah.” He waggled his hands as he said wah, wah, wah. “Got it?”

  “It’s simple enough,” Sorrel said.

  The bald man grunted and when he narrowed his eyes at her, they almost disappeared into his face.

  “The trick is holding your nerve. They must be right at the gate before we let loose. Think you can do that girl – think you can hold your nerve?”

  “Can you?”

  “I hope your wits are as sharp as your tongue.”

  “They’re coming, Lucas,” someone shouted.

  Lucas looked at Sorrel. “Ready?”

  Sorrel pulled down her sleeves to protect her hands and took hold of the handle on her side of the vat.

  She heard the log carriers grunting before she saw them.

  “Hold steady. Let them get the first strike in,” Lucas said.

  She saw the tip of the log swing forward and batter into the gates. Wood creaked and splintered. The battering was fierce, but the gates held. The vibration from the hefty blow ran up through the ledge, and then bodies appeared below, carried forward by the momentum of the swing.

  “Now!” Lucas shouted.

  They toppled the vat over and the steaming water flowed through the killing holes. Screeches arose as it scalded the heads and faces of those below. The log thudded to the ground and voices carrying curses screamed into the air.

  Lucas grinned, but it was a short victory. The scalded carriers were pushed aside and replaced by others. They hefted the log and took it back, ready to take another run at the gates.

  “More water,” Lucas yelled.

  Sorrel and Lucas lowered the empty vat and hauled another full one up to the ledge. Again, they emptied the scalding liquid over the rammers, and again the injured carriers were replaced, and more boiling water was raised.

  Sorrel’s arms ached from hauling the heavy vats up to the ledge, and her hands throbbed from scalding splashes, but there was no time to stop. The onslaught was relentless.

  Down below, there was the sound of hammering as the gates were reinforced. Voices shouted and called and screamed. Gunfire volleyed, and the rich tang of blood tainted the air.

  The invaders made five attempts at the gate before dropping the battering ram.

  “Nice job, girl.” Lucas grinned at Sorrel.

  “You too,” Sorrel said.

  Her shoulders groaned, and her arms screamed for mercy, but the respite was brief.

  David appeared by her side, a fresh wound on his face.

  “What happened?” Sorrel asked.

  He smeared the blood away on the back of his hand. “It’s nothing. Come on – they’re trying to breach…” Noticing Lucas, David stopped mid-sentence, hell and fury in his eyes. “You!”

  “You know him?” Sorrel asked.


  “The Thrall Market! He sold me to Black Angus.”

  Lucas stood his full height and looked down the length of his nose at David.

  “For better or worse, the Thrall Market’s no more. We’re on the same side now, boy. Or would you rather fight me than them?”

  David lunged at Lucas, but seeing the dark look in his eyes, Sorrel was ready for him. She plunged in between the pair, forcing them apart with her body.

  The meaty stench emanating from Lucas was overpowering, but the rage in David’s eyes was enough to make her stay put.

  “David – listen to me – you made your peace with Brig, and if you can do that, you can let this go. If we start fighting among ourselves, we’re finished.”

  David’s jaw clenched as he stared raw hate at Lucas.

  “Remember the log cabin,” Sorrel whispered.

  David tore his glare away from Lucas and looked at her. She kissed him on the lips.

  “The future is what matters.”

  After a moment, David nodded then glowered at Lucas.

  “If we’re still standing when this is over,” Lucas said, “and you still want to have a square go at me, I’ll take you on. But until then…” Lucas stuck out his hand. “Truce.”

  David let it hang for a heartbeat, then shook it. “Truce.”

  Everywhere else, the fighting continued.

  “They’re trying to breach at the other end of the wall,” David said.

  “I’ll help,” Lucas replied.

  The three of them jumped from the ledge to the scaffold on the other side and helped those already there to push the ladders away. They used long poles to keep them at bay and swung axes at the heads of anyone who tried to scale the walls, but the army was vast and no matter how many times the city’s defenders fought them back, they kept on coming. It was as though all the people on earth had converged on this one place.

  Just as they repelled one ladder, another replaced it. A man’s head appeared, his face snarling, his eyes looking for blood as he tried to climb from the ladder onto the wall. David swung an axe and caught him a blow to the temple while Lucas and Sorrel pushed the ladder away, but the onslaught was relentless.

  The only relief was that as the army attempted to scale the wall, the gunfire ceased.