As soon as the two men were out of earshot of the room, Dev turned to the general.
‘What now?’
Cinna looked back at him. ‘What?’
‘Well surely you’re not going to do as they say, sir?’
‘I don’t have a lot of choice, Dev.’
‘Yes, you do. You were about to defy them anyway. Now you have more reason than ever. The need for subtlety is gone. Find the sympathetic officers and rouse them.’
Cinna shook his head. ‘That chance has passed, Dev.’
‘Sir?’
‘They have been here for days and have already taken control of the army. On the way in I could see how my own good loyal units were now broken up and mixed with new soldiers of theirs, and that is to be my guards’ fate. There is no force upon which we can rely. Any officer who might stand against them will already be confined to quarters the same as me. They will take no chances. Did you see Sidonius in there? A close friend of many years and the first officer I would turn to for support, and not only did he not speak up for me, he wouldn’t even look at me. The marshals have complete control. Almost certainly the emperor’s spies have already given them any names they needed to weed out trouble.’
‘But you can’t do nothing, sir. I saw the look on that prefect’s face. The others just want you out of the way and to take over, but that prefect? He wants you disgraced, or possibly even dead. You’ll be hauled into a trial and it will go badly for you.’
‘Dev, listen to me. Our plans have all been undermined. There is now no way to defy the emperor. There is no way to take the army from the marshals. It can no longer be done. They’ve seen to that in our absence.’
‘Then we need to get away, sir. You’ll die if you stay here, and with my skin and my record of service to you I’ll be dead a few heartbeats later.’
They emerged from the headquarters building and untied their mounts from the rail, hauling themselves wearily into the saddle. Dev caught a momentary glimpse of his commander’s face and frowned. There was something different now in the man’s expression. Then the general kicked his horse into movement and Dev was startled as he began to ride purposefully away, though not in the direction of his quarters.
‘General?’
‘You’re right, Dev. It took a moment for me to stop simmering and see it, but you’re right. I cannot do what I planned, but I must still do what I can. The empire is threatened by so many forces, and these fools strip it of men to fight this stupid, pointless war. If no one stops this, then the west will fall. I cannot accept that. I will not accept that.’
‘Where are we going, then, General?’
‘To my guard. They will be on their way here to muster, but I will not dismiss them and hand them over to be thrown into the mouth of a cannon. They are still loyal to me and they will have no desire to join this attack against my will. I said there was no one we can count on, but I was wrong. There are several groups we can count on. The guard will support us, as will your father, and there is another group I feel I can count on to do exactly as I anticipate. We will join with the guard, Dev, and leave the camp before the marshals realise we are gone.’
Dev, an odd nervous excitement thrilling through him, narrowed his eyes. ‘Where, though, sir? To General Jiang? To my father?’
‘No, Dev. Orders will have gone out now. There will be no safe way to approach the Jade Empire, and if we are tracked and we go to your father we will simply lead the marshals’ men to the monastery, which could have no good ending. No. We go to that third group I can trust to be predictable. To your dangerous friend, the Sizhad, instead.’
The young officer’s eyes widened in shock and alarm. ‘That is not a good idea, sir.’
‘I agree. But it is the only one I have. The Sizhad is now the only one who can change things.’
Dev shook his head fervently. ‘Sir, the Sizhad will not help you. He will not help anyone. He has his own agenda, and it is simply the destruction of us all and the affirmation of his sun god as the only god.’
And yet had not Dev only that very morning contemplated the possibility that his younger brother might still be brought back from the brink? But how could he suggest that to the general without revealing their fraternal connection? And that would then cast Dev’s own trustworthiness into doubt.
Cinna was shaking his head again. ‘I have no doubt that the Sizhad sees me as the enemy. In fact I am counting on this.’
‘Sir?’
‘These idiots have come here in the expectation of an easy victory and will crush any hope of peace in the process. The only chance now is to open their eyes to the real danger and bring them down to size – make them realise I was right. They need to know it’s not just the easterners across the river, but that the world is full of vicious bastards who will tear down the emperor. And since they are clearly blind to that fact, I will introduce the marshals to one of them personally. We go to find the Sizhad and his army, and we bring them south. I think we can count on the Sizhad to respond to provocation, and we will draw him to the marshals. We pit them against the imperial army here.’
‘Bringing a third army to Jalnapur might make things worse,’ Dev noted.
‘But it might make things better, and we’ve run out of options.’
Ahead, a force of riders in gleaming steel, and blue and white tunics was moving towards them in ordered ranks. The general’s bodyguard. The only unit in the whole of Jalnapur that Cinna could now rely upon.
‘We need to move quickly,’ Cinna said, ‘before it’s reported that I did not return to my quarters. I wish I had the chance to collect a few things, but every moment counts now.’
Dev nodded as they met with the guard and the general explained that they were going to ride out of the great camp to the north, past the now all but deserted city of Jalnapur.
The Sizhad. Ravi. The very idea of going back to that valley from which he had so narrowly escaped sent shivers through him. Would they have to face him? Would they even get as far as the valley? The last time Dev had ridden north with twice as many men and that had ended in disaster.
Dev, heart in throat, rode north.
Chapter 17
The wind whispers through the dead grass
Echoes of a world forgot
The wraiths of past troubles heed not
The perils of our day
Old World, by Ang Xi
‘How things change in so short a time, Jai,’ the general said, drawing his blade and examining the edge as the Crimson Guard around him followed suit.
The young officer nodded, his expression grim. He had not smiled since that moment they had emerged from the snaking valley and spied the field of Jalnapur. It had been a spirit-crushing sight. They had left for their illicit conference with the two forces at a safe standoff, not quite equal, but close enough to ensure that no senior officer on either side would do anything stupid. The two armies had sat glowering wearily at one another across that dreadful river, but nothing had been moving.
The view on their return had been vastly different.
Where the Jade Empire had had the numerical edge over their opponents, now the armies of the western empire filled the world with their men, animals and artillery. Things suddenly looked bleak for Jai and his general. And as they had returned to the scene of battle, the fight was already underway once more with fresh vigour and strength. Granted the bonus of new men from home, the west was pressing the attack with a vicious will, and the forces of General Jiang were fighting a defensive battle now.
Jai had wondered in that moment of shock whether the entire sojourn in the dead lands had been a cunning ruse to pull the senior commanders away from the army long enough to allow a huge reserve to be brought in and committed by the enemy. After all, the westerners could break through at any time the way they were pushing, and it was seemingly pure chance that the command party had managed to return in time to find the battle ongoing. They might well have arrived to find their forces broken and retr
eating.
Jiang had been the one to stamp on that notion. He knew himself to be a good reader of people and believed General Cinna to be genuine in his desire for a peaceful solution. Moreover, they had all seen the sudden and heart-warming resurrection of the fraternal bond between Jai and Dev, and neither of them could imagine Jai’s brother having lied to him with such brazen ease.
No. Cinna and Dev were not behind this. It was simply unfortunate timing. And it put everything now into jeopardy. What hope there was that Cinna could remove potential enemies among his command and defy his own emperor now seemed to be infinitesimally small. That huge number of men arriving from the west would require senior officers at high level and, like Jiang’s force, the new commanders would not be hand-picked for sense and loyalty as were the original army.
Jiang and his men had rushed down to their command post to find nervous officers, unable to find an adequate solution to the sudden shift in power. The westerners were adaptable, had initiative. The officers of the Jade Empire – even the best of them – had trouble with sudden changes in their rigid thinking. The enemy had pushed to take the bridge twice already in the past two days and had almost succeeded both times, denial of the bridgehead costing both sides dreadful numbers. The bulk of the eastern officers now believed this fight to be over. Jiang had realised that his own chances of defying an emperor and changing the world were now diminished to almost naught too. He would have to fight a desperate defence instead, and the only thing that would now save them was the arrival of their own reinforcements. But that in itself would end all hope of peace, for then they might win the war, but Jiang would lose control of it all. It was a dreadful situation. Hundreds of years ago a famous monk had asked the question ‘What does a man choose when faced with a lake of fire before him and a precipice behind?’ It had never seemed more apt to Jai and the general now.
Jiang had done the only thing he could. He had prepared to defend their position against superior odds until the new army arrived, and hoped that there was something he could do once that happened. He had, in effect, stepped back from the lake of fire and thrown himself over the precipice, hoping to find a handhold part way down.
The other officers had been disapproving of the new direction of their general’s plan, though none had been able to suggest an alternative when asked. And so Jiang had taken a leaf from the military sketchbook of his opposite number. Where Cinna’s forces had fortified and trapped their end of the bridge, while Jiang’s had kept theirs clear for the movement and access of troops, now the westerners were infilling their pits and clearing the obstacles, while Jiang had men desperately digging pits and moving barriers into the way. A complete reversal.
And now, eleven days after they had returned to Jalnapur, it seemed the enemy were about to make the next true attempt to break the Jade Empire’s forces – probably on a scale that would make the previous attempts look like mere exercises. Jiang had watched them from the observation point, eyes hawk-like as he took in every nuance of what was happening across the river. It was all done rather subtly, with just the gentle shifting of units, but Jiang was not fooled. There might be only a slow shuffling and swapping of units, but a keen eye could see that the result of the general rearrangement was that the fresh, new heavy infantry were now close to the bridge, heavy horse behind them. Jiang had distributed the orders he’d had prepared for days in anticipation of this moment and had beckoned to Jai and his Crimson Guard. The young man had frowned in surprise.
‘Our world is threatened, Jai, and our men quake with fresh fear. Whatever heart we can give them, it is our duty to do so. We will join the defence of the bridge.’
And so they had ridden forth from the command post as the orders the general had disseminated were effected, walking their beasts down the slope and onto the causeway with the full unit of the Crimson Guard, frightening and impressive, at their shoulder, face masks immobile but with red-painted teeth bared for battle.
As they had moved across the plain towards the bridge the reality of what was happening had impressed itself upon Jai. The cannon placed sporadically across the eastern bank thundered their smooth-chiselled death at the enemy, belching fire and black smoke with the blasts, the artillerists instinctively recoiling with each shot, aware that no matter how skilled they were, there was always at least a small chance of a misfire. But it was happening remarkably rarely these days. The men at the machines were now experienced enough to fire the missiles in their sleep and could spot an imperfection in the great stone balls at a single glance. Moreover, the cannon with any potential faults had long since fallen apart. Now only terrible luck resulted in a misfire.
With a sound like a giant stamping angry boots, the cannon pounded the enemy again and again, jettisoning their deadly loads over the heads of the nervous soldiers.
The enemy were far from idle either. Their weapons didn't have the range of the Jade Emperor’s cannon, and could only reach a certain distance across the battlefield, but wherever they could reach had become a field of twisted and mangled bodies.
Carnage. Just like their first few weeks here.
Jai felt his spirits sink that little bit further as the near end of the bridge came within sight. For months now it had been clear, the road solid if pitted with divots caused by enemy artillery, the once-beautiful white stonework of the bridge itself now greyed and brown and with barely a pace of it undamaged in some way. But it was what had been done by their own men in the past few days that brought a lump to the throat. As long as that access to the bridge had remained clear, the statement had been made: ‘We still intend to cross that bridge and win.’
Now there was no access. The statement had changed. Now it was: ‘We intend to stop the enemy crossing that bridge.’
A trench had been cut across the near end. Unlike the one the westerners had made, full of spikes and death, this one had been cut in a ‘U’ shape around the bridge, ten feet wide and as deep as the men could make it. Now the river ran around the end of the bridge, effectively sealing it off. And, given the speed of the current, it would be a dangerous torrent even for a man in underwear, let alone a man in armour.
The eastern bank of that moat-like trench had been given additional defences, with sharpened stakes jutting from the lip out towards the water, preventing anyone from climbing out of the torrent. A small fence of sharpened stakes had been constructed behind it, and archers and infantry positioned appropriately. And there, among the crowds of men gathered ready to repel any attack, standing amid smeared mud, blood and bone where men had fallen to enemy artillery over the past few days, were the rocket troop. Jiang’s last throw of the dice.
Jai shuddered. Rockets were unpredictable and perilous at the best of times, and he had no idea what the general had planned, but whatever it was it would be desperate and horribly dangerous.
‘Here they come,’ the general said, dragging Jai’s attention back to the bridge itself.
He and the Crimson Guard, and Jai too, had dismounted five hundred paces back, leaving their mounts in a guarded corral. Horses were just an inconvenience in this sort of situation.
‘They’re moving slowly,’ Jai noted, watching the gleaming steel wall of imperial might stomping towards them, swords clattering against the bronze edges of their shields in a threatening rhythm.
‘They don’t want to endanger their own,’ the general said. ‘Shields up!’ he bellowed. All across the bridgehead, men raised their shields. Carefully placed burly soldiers lifted the supports of specially constructed roofs and angled them into position, slotting the great timber legs into the sockets prepared in the ruined ground. Jiang was no fool and had prepared.
A sensible commander pounded the enemy with artillery before committing his men.
The first blow struck one of the timber roofs and the thing paid for all the hard work in that one moment as a dozen men owed it their lives, the great stone ball of the imperial onager bouncing off the heavy slats and careening away into the dirt. M
en off to the side scurried out of the way.
But it was not the only blow to come, and not all of them would be so easily dodged. Jai could not help but wince each time a missile struck. Sometimes they came down between the heavy temporary roofs, and when they did the sounds were indescribable. The ninth shot to strike the central area where the two officers waited was the first to destroy a wooden roof. The enemy shot had been angled differently, and instead of glancing off the timbers and shooting away into the periphery to become the problem of other men, it struck hard, shattering timbers and slats and punching through to cause mayhem beneath. The heavy stone ball crushed two men on impact, one dead instantly, the other gasping out his last few moments from a ruined chest. Further men suffered the agony of flying splinters from the ruined roof, which were almost as bad as the missile itself.
The one reprieve during the barrage was that the enemy had forgone the use of burning pitch in those dreadful earthenware jars that exploded on impact. They could not afford to engulf in flames the world into which they sent their men. Still, the iron bolts and heavy stones came thick and fast and killed many in dreadful ways.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the rain of missiles stopped. There was no time, nor cause, to rejoice, though, for the screams and thuds and cracks and cries were instantly replaced with the bellowed war cry of the enemy as they picked up speed and ran towards Jai and the rest. What could they hope to achieve?
Eastern archers began to loose their deadly rain now, nocking, drawing and loosing in perfect unison in a graceful dance of violence, swarms of arrows arcing up from the bank to either side to rain down upon the charging enemy as they came into range. Men fell, but not enough of them to make a difference. Their shields studded with shafts, they still came. It was only when the howling, furious faces of the western soldiers were perhaps forty paces from the moat that their plan became clear. For a moment, Jai had thought they had produced their own roof against the Jade Empire’s arrow storm, but quickly he realised that what he’d taken to be a roof was, in fact, a floor.
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