by A. C. Cobble
In moments, the throng of standing Alliance soldiers shrank as they were outnumbered and overcome. Ben held back, watching as Lloyd’s blademasters and Rish’s rangers carved up the Alliance soldiers. Men began to throw down weapons and drop to their knees.
“Let them surrender!” yelled Ben, raising his voice, hoping it carried over the shouts and clashes of battle.
Not everyone heard, and Ben cringed as he saw a man on his knees slaughtered, but word spread, and surrenders were accepted. Soon, two score Alliance soldiers kneeled in a bunch, surrounded by four times their number of dead compatriots.
“Rish,” instructed Ben. “Tend to the wounded. Then escort the prisoners to Issen.”
Commander Rish blinked at him uncertainly. “Where will you be, m’lord?”
“I need to go ahead,” said Ben. He explained what they’d learned and asked Prem to leave Lady Inslie under Rish’s stewardship. He saw fear in the lady’s eyes. He instructed Rish, “Keep her away from the Alliance men and see she is not harassed.”
Rish nodded, studying the woman, who, even underneath the dried blood she’d been unable to wipe off her face, was still stunningly pretty.
“Lloyd, Prem, we’ll take the two hundred out in the hills and make haste for Issen. The attack won’t come until nightfall, which gives us a little time.”
“Ben, it’s six bells’ hard hiking,” warned Lloyd. “Even if we’re walking fast… it will be dusk soon.”
“If anyone doesn’t think they can keep up,” said Ben, “they may stay behind. I’m not a fool. I know we won’t make it there by nightfall, but I won’t delay. Jason, Saala, twenty-four thousand soldiers… We can’t wait.”
“I understand,” murmured Lloyd.
14
Blood in the Streets
Ben’s legs ached, and his lungs burned, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. For five bells, he hadn’t paused for longer than it look to refill his water skin at a small stream. Behind him, half the men he’d set out with were still there, the other half had fallen behind. He hoped they’d catch up safely and rejoin in Issen, but he couldn’t wait for them. The battle had already begun, and according to Prem’s reports that came through the thought meld, it wasn’t going well. They’d gotten the gates closed in time to prevent the surprise attack from the Alliance, but enemy troops were loose in the city. Two bells after the Alliance started rampaging, the Coalition forces appeared as well. Now, both armies were loose in the city, and Issen’s forces couldn’t do anything about it.
Walking at a ground-eating pace, Ben’s party descended from the rolling hills of the plains into the fertile river valley where Issen lay. In the distance, Ben could see the glow of war. Orange light lit the black sky, illuminating ominous plumes of dark smoke with ghastly clarity.
“The walls are holding,” advised Prem as they hurried toward the outskirts of the city. “They almost didn’t. The Coalition brought mages. Their mages don’t have the strength of Earnest John or Elle, but they’re ruthless. Our talented are having to extend their will, trying to protect the innocents. The Coalition is indiscriminate in their destruction.”
“We have to get to the wall,” declared Ben.
“And then what?” asked Lloyd. “There’s nothing we can do to defeat a mage from afar.”
“I could put an arrow in one,” offered Serrot, a mask of anger clouding his face.
Ben reminded himself his friend had never seen a full-scale battle before. He was about to get an unpleasant lesson when they got into the streets and started stepping over dead civilians.
“I have an idea,” stated Ben.
“What is it?” asked Prem. She sounded nervous.
He ignored her skepticism and explained, “Lloyd is right. We won’t have any more success striking the mages from the walls than the archers who are already there, and while we have skill, we can’t swing a sword any further than the other swordsmen. Scouring the city looking for Saala or Jason is a fool’s errand. They could be anywhere in Issen, and it’d take us days to walk up and down every street. If they are moving or didn’t join these advance groups, we may never locate them.”
“Right…” said Lloyd hesitantly.
“If your brother knew you were here,” said Ben. “Do you think he’d come to face you?”
The blademaster stumbled. Under his breath he cursed an unseen clump of dirt in the road. As they entered the scattering of buildings that marked the edge of Issen, he conceded. “He might.”
“We need to get you up on the walls where he can see you,” said Ben.
“How?” wondered the blademaster. “Between here and the castle, the streets are filled with Alliance and Coalition forces. They’ll be thickest in the areas nearest the keep. Please don’t tell me you expect Amelie to throw open the gates just because you’re outside. It’s going to be just as difficult for us to get in as it is for the Alliance and the Coalition. Ben, we have to consider the possibility we’re already too late to join Amelie and the others.”
In the distance, they heard a thunderous boom which shook the windows in the streets and sent up a plume of fire two hundred paces tall. They could see the flames billowing up the wall of the castle, but it seemed to hold up against whatever was being thrown against it.
“That’s not magic,” stated Prem. “At least, not the kind done by mages. Street magic, as Cogdill would call it.”
Ben grimaced. “I suspect before the night is over, we’re going to find out every little trick the Alliance and the Coalition have up their sleeves. This is their chance to end the war before it really begins. If they breach the walls...”
“They’ll be fighting each other and fighting us,” affirmed Lloyd. “If we’re going in, we’ve got to do it quickly. What’s your plan, Ben?”
“We’re going to see a costumer,” he replied.
One hundred armed and armored men and women cannot move through a city quietly, but they did their best. They were assisted by the din of battle floating throughout the streets, covering the sounds of their footsteps. Explosions, screams, and the clash of steel hung over Issen like a blanket.
Ben led the way as they snuck through twisting back alleys and narrow streets. The open boulevards they passed appeared empty, but Ben knew if they took those main thoroughfares, it was only a matter of time before they encountered resistance.
They saw few citizens. Most of the residents of Issen had chosen to barricade their doors and hide until the fighting was over. Even the temptation of looting wasn’t enough to draw them into the open with roving bands of unknown soldiers in the streets.
Ben didn’t blame them for hiding, but he knew that the end of the fighting might only spell the beginning of the horror for those people. If he and Amelie were unable to defy the Alliance and the Coalition, Issen would be sacked.
“I think we should have taken a left at that last intersection,” hissed Prem.
Ben stopped, a grimace on his face. He looked over his shoulder, past the long string of men following him.
“You’re lost!” accused Lloyd.
“We’ve only been to this place once,” muttered Ben. “It was dark that night.”
“It’s dark now,” retorted Lloyd.
“I think it’s just another three streets ahead and a block to the east.”
“Or one street behind, and three blocks to the west,” suggested Prem.
Ben clenched his fists in frustration.
“Sir!” called one of their men. He was pointing to a side street behind them. Soon, Ben heard why the man was concerned. Echoing down the empty cobblestones was the sound of boots moving fast. There was nowhere they could quickly hide one hundred men, so instead, Ben began giving instructions to array into an attack formation.
“Stay alive,” he said to Lloyd. “Right now, you’re the one we’re counting on to draw Jason’s interest.”
“I mean to,” assured the blademaster.
Ben and his captains silenced the group and waited, eve
ryone nervously clutching weapons. There could be twenty men or two hundred running down the street. They wouldn’t know until the other group appeared.
When they did round the corner, two score Coalition troops skidded to a stop, confused shock on their faces. Ben didn’t wait for them to recover.
“Attack!” he screamed, and bolted toward the Coalition men.
The steel-grey tabarded soldiers scrambled, breaking in all directions as Ben’s force fell upon them. Outnumbered and surprised, they never had a chance. Turning their backs and splitting, instead of bunching together and facing their attackers as a line, they had even less of one.
Grimly, Ben decided they didn’t have spare men to guard the prisoners, and even if they did, they couldn’t safely transport them in the midst of a battle. They couldn’t allow the Coalition men to flee and warn Lord Jason, either. Ben stabbed a Coalition soldier in the neck and then twisted his blade free, watching as the man collapsed, his sword clattering to the cobblestones and his hands clutching at his ruined throat. In moments, two score of Coalition men were butchered, their pleas for mercy ignored.
Ben surveyed his men. They’d only suffered minor injuries and two casualties. Surprise had been their friend in the conflict. The next time, the boot could be on the other foot.
“I think Prem is right,” he admitted. “We need to go back a block.”
“We could stop and ask someone in one of these houses,” suggested the former guardian. “Just to be sure.”
Ben shook his head. “We don’t have time for directions.”
He started off, trying to ignore Prem’s curses.
“Damma!” yelled Ben as he pounded on the stout wooden door. “It’s me, Ben!”
There was no answer, so he turned to the pair of Issen’s soldiers who had been watching the building. “You are sure no one’s been in or out of here?”
“Only the girl, sir,” responded one of the men. “We’ve had eyes on this place since we heard Alliance and Coalition troops were in the city.”
“And the girl is still inside?” asked Ben. “Who is she?”
The man could only shrug.
Ben started banging on the door again.
“Tell her you know Rhys,” advised Prem.
Ben grunted and then called, “I’m a friend of Rhys, remember?”
Finally, the door opened a crack, and a young woman peered out.
“We’re looking for Damma,” explained Ben.
“I know,” purred the voice. “I can hear you. The entire block can hear you. You’re lucky none of those soldiers have. Damma isn’t here, and you aren’t coming in. You should leave before the soldiers see you.”
“We need to come in,” insisted Ben.
The woman turned her gaze past Ben, and her almond-shaped eyes opened wide. “How many…”
“We’re not staying,” assured Ben. “We just need to pass through.”
“Are you Darla?” guessed Prem.
The woman’s lips twisted and her thin eyebrows raised, barely visible through the small crack in the door.
Ben looked up and down the street, wondering if he should just kick open the door and walk over the woman. She had the door cracked already, and he could see only a thin chain keeping it locked. It would be terribly rude, but he had a hundred men cluttering the street behind him, and they’d be fighting for their lives if one of the groups of marauding soldiers stumbled by.
“You’re pretty,” acknowledged Prem. “Prettier than me, if a man was looking for a woman who spent a lot of time primping herself.”
“I-I, ah, thank you, I think,” stammered Darla.
“We do have a bit of a time crunch,” reminded Ben.
“You are wanting to enter the tunnel?” guessed Darla.
“Yes,” confirmed Ben. “We’re friends of Rhys. Damma let us through the tunnel with him just a few days ago. Please, we need to hurry.”
“She didn’t tell me Rhys was here,” pouted the young girl on the other side of the door. “Is he still in the castle?”
Ben shifted his weight, getting more than a little impatient.
“He is,” said Prem. “Would you like to go with us to see him? Let us in, and we—”
Darla blinked at the former guardian and interjected breathlessly, “Do you think he wants to see me?”
“I don’t know,” hissed Prem in frustration. “I’m trying very hard to be nice. He didn’t let you know he was in Issen, did he? That should tell you something.”
Darla’s full lips turned to a pout. Then, she was flung back as Ben’s boot smashed into the door, snapping the chain and hammering the thick wood into the heavily-made up woman. The force of his kick swung the door wide open. Darla was sprawled on her back half a dozen paces into the room.
“Sorry about that,” muttered Ben as he stepped into the costume shop. “I’m trying to be less violent, most of the time. As I told you, we’re in a bit of a hurry tonight.” He called back to the two guards who had been posted outside the building. “Guide the rest of our men here, if they’re able to make it through the city. Once they start into the tunnel, give the signal, and get to safety!”
On the floor, Darla wiped a stream of blood from her nose, the same shade of crimson as her lips. “I’ll have the city watch on—”
“I’ll tell Rhys you said hello,” offered Prem as she stepped over the prone woman. She caught up with Ben and whispered, “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed watching that.”
Ben grunted and flung open the door to the secret tunnel.
“Will you tell him?” called Darla after them.
“For the life of me, I cannot understand what women see in that man,” complained Ben as he started down the stairs.
“Girls like a bit of a rogue,” said Prem from behind him.
“A bit of a…” muttered Ben under his breath, searching around for a torch before realizing they’d taken a lamp on their last trip through the tunnel.
“Hold on,” said Lloyd, and he slipped by the men in the hall. A moment later, Ben heard the crack of breaking wood, and a torch was passed down the line. The arm of a mannequin, wrapped in expensive feeling linen. It smelled of honeysuckle.
“Perfume,” said Prem. She raked a long knife along the stone wall, sending a shower of sparks cascading over the makeshift torch. It burst into flame, and Ben whispered a silent hope it’d burn long enough for them to make it to the castle.
Walking briskly, he led them deeper into the dark tunnel. In half a bell, the passage would take them underneath the walls of Issen. As soon as the rest of their men exited the tunnel, Issen’s engineers would be cleared to flood it. The men outside Damma’s place had been watching in case Jason’s forces entered before Ben. If that had happened, they would have signaled for the water to be released with Jason’s men inside.
As they walked, Ben shivered, thinking about being caught in the dark, narrow space while water from Issen’s river pumped steadily into it. A horrible way to die, and he hoped it wouldn’t have to happen. When the rest of his men arrived, they would flood it whether or not there was any sign that Jason’s forces intended to sneak through. Lady Selene had used the tunnel, according to Rhys, and they couldn’t risk someone slipping in or out during the heat of battle. It was better to be safe and seal the route with water.
Ben raced up the stairs, climbing flight after flight to reach the top of Issen’s towering walls. Explosions ripped the sky and the sound of skittering arrows bouncing off stone underscored the occasional scream when one found flesh. Men raced along the top of the wall, ducking between crenellations, swerving around idle siege machinery and empty cauldrons that could have been filled with burning hot oil.
It had been centuries since Issen had faced a significant attack, and in that time, a city had grown up around the walls. They’d pulled in as many civilians from the city as they could, but they’d been anticipating the bulk of the armies, and those were still a day away. With a surprise attack through
the node gates, the gates of the castle had to be closed before all of the civilians made it to safety. Hundreds of thousands of them were left outside, at the mercy of the Alliance and the Coalition.
The artillery, the heavy stones that could be rolled down the walls, the caltrops which should have been scattered on all of the streets leading to the castle, the hot oil, the burning bales, the tearing down of the nearby structures to make a killing ground, none of it could be done with people in the city below. The council of highborn hadn’t prepared far enough in advance, and now it was too late. The price in collateral damage would be too steep for a full defense, so all they had was the walls of the castle.
Looming five stories above the roofs of the city, the walkway atop the castle walls was relatively safe, if one was careful to duck the whistling missiles that archers sent up from below.
Ben scuttled along, keeping low, Lloyd on his heels, until they found Amelie. She was underneath a roofed turret with an enraged glare on her face. The mages Elle and Earnest John stood beside her, their eyes focused on the city outside of the turret.
“Amelie!” cried Ben as he raced to embrace her.
She allowed him to wrap his arms around her, but none of the tension left her body. She was angry, and a hug wasn’t what she needed. She needed a plan.
“Where’s my father?” asked Prem as she joined them in the turret.
“He’s out keeping the walls clear,” responded Amelie. “Both the Alliance and Coalition have tried to scale them. Knocking them off is about all we can do. It’s too dangerous to unleash anything against the main bodies of our attackers, though I’m tempted.”
Ben strode to the open windows of the turret and looked down. Several dozen buildings had caught fire, and he could see ant-like groups of men streaming through the streets. In some areas, they were closing on the castle. In others, they were looting. A grim smile curled his lips when he spotted streets that were the sites of pitched battles, the Alliance and the Coalition finally crossing swords.