The flat-bottomed boats served a dual purpose here, for the majority of the orbs destined for the men landed instead on the craft. The enchanters had worked hard to build them as tough as possible with minimal use of essence, and the prismatic orbs exploded against the boats with little damage to the men underneath.
Then Miro's greatest fears were realised when he saw a black cloud rising from behind the towering wall, and at least a dozen dirigibles rose into the air, heading straight for the place where the boats were slipping off the soldiers' shoulders and plunging into the raging river. Even the rail-bows would be useless against the enhanced armour of the dirigibles' shells – it was the bows that were enchanted, not the arrows.
Miro's counter was weak at best, and as the enemy's dirigibles reached the middle of the river, the allies' sole remaining airship came into view, high in the sky above them. The massive net was flung out, weighted at the ends with balls of lead, and flew down to envelope four of the clustered dirigibles in its web. Tangled, the net and its prey continued to fall down and into the river. It was the best Miro could hope for, but it left eight of the black dirigibles ready to rain terror on his unprotected men below.
There were nearly a hundred of the landing craft, each carrying a maximum of eighty men, which meant that for Miro's army to cross, they would have to take multiple journeys. If the first wave was unsuccessful, the boats wouldn't be able to return. The second wave would stay on the wrong bank, and the brave men who first reached the enemy side were doomed.
Then Miro saw how low the Black Army's dirigibles were flying. It would improve the accuracy of their fire, and they were still high enough that nothing could touch them. Nothing except…
"Send in the colossus," Miro said to Marshal Beorn.
"The plan was to wait," Beorn said.
"Unless you have a better way to take out those dirigibles, pass the order."
Beorn passed the message, frowning, clenching and then unclenching his fists.
The thunderous shaking of the ground told Miro his orders had been followed. To his right, he saw the top half of the colossus, twice the height of the tall trees around it. The animator in his controller cage atop its head was bathed in glowing colours as he moved the massive construct forward. But it was slow, too slow!
All of the landing craft were in the water now, each filled with men wearing nothing but armour of steel and leather, and many with no armour at all. Miro could see the boats being tossed around by the vicious river, but they were crossing under a combination of paddling and poling. The second wave of men massed in orderly ranks on the Alturan bank.
The Black Army's dirigibles swooped low and prismatic orbs fell through the sky. Great eruptions of water gushed from the river, and immediately two of the landing boats exploded in flashes of fire as blood and the pieces of soldiers were thrown into the air. Another craft tilted too much as a series of orbs detonated in the water around it, and the river rushed in, capsizing the craft and sending the armoured men to their deaths as they spilled out.
"Come on," Miro pleaded, "hurry."
The colossus reached the riverbank. So much of their preparation had been for this moment. They had tested the idea on land, in the safety of the Dunwood, but on a wild river, in the heat of battle, was another matter altogether.
Miro knew the animator in the controller cage well. His name was Luca Angelo, and the Halrana said he was the best animator of them all. He had seemed a steady man to Miro, calm under pressure, and Miro could only hope those qualities would hold him in good stead now. If the plan was successful, Miro would honour Luca in whatever way he could. He knew, though, that all the man wanted was to be reunited with his family in Ralanast.
In their preparations the river had been scouted and the path mapped in detail. The great stone blocks of the old bridge were impossibly far apart, too far to bridge, and entirely under the water in most cases.
Would they be too far apart for the colossus's great stride?
Another rain of orbs from a dirigible took out two more boats, and Miro knew the situation was becoming desperate.
The colossus stepped out into the river, onto the first block they had mapped out. The gigantic form wobbled, and then the second leg came forward and the body swung, until the foot came down somewhere under the water and held.
Miro realised he wasn't breathing and tried to control the racing of his heart and get some air into his lungs.
The colossus took one more step, and then Miro saw a figure in green climbing up the construct, moving quickly from hand to hand as it reached the huge shoulder.
"That's a bladesinger," Beorn said.
The warrior's armoursilk suddenly blazed and the shining zenblade made Miro squint even from his position. The bladesinger leapt up and forward, the zenblade arcing through the air, and his fiery sword smashed into the side of a dirigible, cutting a wide gouge through the airship, before the bladesinger fell down and into the water.
The dirigible spun out of control and turned into another airship close by, before both spiralled down to come crashing into the water. A moment later Miro saw a Halrana soldier help the bladesinger into one of the boats.
The great bulk of the colossus again moved forward, and then the animator struck.
A massive hand swung through the air, swatting down a dirigible like it was a tiresome bug. Another swing and one more dirigible went down. The gigantic construct's footing was precarious, and Miro saw it wobble more than once, but Luca Angelo held, and in a moment the sky was cleared of the enemy.
"It worked!" Beorn turned, grinning at Miro.
The first of the landing craft reached the opposite bank. The soldiers jumped out and lifted their boat out of the water, turning it on its side. Orbs rained down on them, deflected by the bottom of the boat, but they waited. Soon a dozen more craft had emptied their loads of soldiers; in moments more than twenty side-on boats formed a protective barrier at the water's edge.
The allied swordsmen and pikemen disembarked from the remaining boats, joining their fellows rather than turning the boats up, leaving their landing craft to return to the Alturan side and fetch the second wave.
The bridgehead had been formed.
The second stage of the plan now went into effect. Miro's sub-commanders deployed the archers.
They filled the gaps between each boat that made up the defensive formation. As orbs rained down on the bridgehead, arrows shot out, targeted shots to take out the mortar teams and any of the enemy foolish enough to show themselves. The frequency of the explosions began to diminish.
Another landing discharged some of the Dunfolk, who added the volleys of their fire to the targeted shots of the rail-bows.
"Raise the blue lantern," Miro said. "It's time."
The order was passed, a signalling flag unfurled, and Miro's sole dirigible shone a fiery blue light. With the bridgehead becoming crowded as more and more boats were emptied, the colossus again lumbered forward.
"Please," Miro prayed. "Don't slip now."
The colossus reached the bank, Miro and Beorn both breathing a sigh of relief when it finally stood tall and unharmed on the solid earth to the side of the bridgehead.
The enemy now knew where to concentrate their fire.
"What's that?" Beorn said, squinting. "It's like a blur of motion."
Miro smiled. "I think I know."
As the colossus climbed the bank, heading for the black wall, the Black Army's fire targeted it to the exclusion of all else. But each orb hit a whirling storm of green and silver, with electric flashes of shining blue and ruby red.
Miro didn't know how many of the bladesingers were riding along with the colossus, but he knew this indomitable construct would strike terror into his enemy's hearts. As an orb flew at the colossus, it hit the flash of a zenblade, and was sliced into two pieces before the device could fulfil its purpose and destruct.
This was it. The moment they had planned and hoped for, but the one thing they could
never be certain about. If the Primate or one of his commanders had sent the builders of Torakon to reinforce this wall with lore, they were doomed.
Miro watched as four men in green leapt down from the colossus, leaping and dodging the explosions.
He could almost hear Luca Angelo chanting as he activated the runes, see his deft fingers touching the controller tablet at his knees. The colossus's great fists swung down, both of them with the full strength of the animators' arts behind them.
The top half of the wall smashed into pieces as the construct's huge hands collided with the stone. The arms came up, and then fell down again, as Luca kept on, oblivious to the explosions around him. The colossus kicked with one of its legs, and the wall was breached.
"Red light!" Miro cried. "Full attack!"
High above, the Alturan dirigible flashed a bright red light. With the Alturan and Dunfolk archers providing covering fire, the allied soldiers rushed forward in an unstoppable wave. The first through the breach were the bladesingers, followed by the colossus itself, and then there were so many men pouring through they were like a sea of people.
Landing craft still crossed the river, but now the warriors who disembarked ran straight up the riverbank, shouting and cheering, swords held in the air as they joined their fellows.
Miro closed his eyes and then let out a slow, deep breath.
"Lord Marshal," Beorn said. "Are you coming?" He grinned, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"I know a faster way," Miro said. He waved his arms, and the dirigible slowly descended. A ladder was thrown out.
"No, thank you," Beorn said. "I don't have a head for heights. I'll chance the river."
"See you there," Miro said. "Bring the Halrana animators over with you, will you?"
Soon Miro was lifted up and over the splashing river. From his vantage he could see his men swiftly gain the advantage, and the green and brown flag of the allied army soon flew from one, then another of the squat towers. Miro was careful to display the Alturan raj hada on the dirigible for all to see, the circle double-striped to indicate the Lord Marshal was present.
When he was across, he jumped down from the dirigible and sent it back out of danger.
His first concern was for defences. "Secure the towers on both sides as long as you are in view of the bridgehead, then pin the rest down with archers. Have the colossus smash up the walls and get the men to move the blocks to form a wall on four sides. Let me know the instant the Halrana animators have arrived from the Alturan side. The instant, you understand? Tell Marshal Scola to continue the advance and encirclement, I want the river cleared in both directions. When Marshal Beorn arrives, he's in charge of the defences."
"Yes, Lord Marshal." They said as he issued the orders.
"The animators are here," a soldier came running up, six men in brown robes behind him.
"Thank you, soldier," Miro said. "Please get me fifty men to form a patrol."
"Yes, Lord Marshal."
The soldier spoke to another man in the raj hada of an Alturan captain. Miro regarded the approaching animators.
"You know what you're here for," Miro said.
"We do," one of the animators, a Halrana with tapered moustaches, said. "I can hardly breathe. Do you think there are many still functional?"
"Calm down," Miro said. "You're in the middle of a battle."
The captain came forward. "You requested a detachment, Lord Marshal?"
"Yes, captain. We're going to find those constructs."
Amidst the chaos Miro heard someone calling his name. "Miro!"
He turned and saw Marshal Beorn. "What is it?"
"The dirigible pilot signalled that there's a mass of men forming in the east. They must be from the enemy's main encampment. It's a counter attack."
Miro nodded. "I understand… Marshal Beorn, our defences are in your hands." He turned to the Alturan captain and the Halrana animators. "Come on," he said, "we don't have much time."
~
THEY found some of the constructs almost immediately, in a field where only the ditches and gullies that were too straight for nature told that a battle had ever taken place.
Miro felt his hope fade as he looked at the huge mound of charred limbs. A pile of woodmen had been thrown here and burned. Of course the enemy wouldn't be foolish enough to leave them lying around.
A cluster of bonemen had been deliberately splintered and thrown onto the pile. Miro turned to the moustached Halrana animator, expecting to see the man in tears. Instead the animator looked at the small tablet he held in his hands, where some symbols were flashing and fading.
"Ironmen," the animator said. "They're close." He began to search the area.
"Stop," the Alturan captain said, waving his men back. The animator halted in his tracks. The captain walked forward, prodding the ground in front of the brown-robed Halrana with his sword.
Where the animator was about to step, the ground fell away under the captain's probing, to reveal a deep ditch lined with spikes.
The animator turned white-faced to the Alturan captain.
"It's treacherous around here," the captain said. "Fan out!" he called to his men. "Look for ditches and traps. The animators need to search this area, and they need to do it fast. Look out for your skins, but mark out the safe ground."
The fifty men dispersed, probing at the ground with their swords and calling out when they found a trap. Miro cursed the delay, while the Halrana animators conferred among themselves, gesturing to the flashing symbols on their controller tablets.
Miro wondered how long before the enemy reached this area and they were forced to pull back to Marshal Beorn's hastily-crafted defences. Miro had been counting on the support of the constructs they had left behind last winter, and now realised how precarious the situation was.
"I'm going to see how far away the enemy are, how much time we have," Miro told the captain.
"You can't go out there," the captain began, "let me send…"
Miro spoke some words, and his armoursilk blazed as he activated its core protection. "I'm the best-placed to find out," Miro said. "I'll be back."
He chanted as he ran, calling forth the multitude of sequences that would protect him in the event of a fall. Would the armoursilk be powerful enough to save his skin if he fell into a spiked trap? He hoped he wouldn't find out.
Miro opened his stride, running with long steps, barely touching the ground with his toes, expecting at any instant to plummet down into the earth. He thanked the Lord of the Sky as he reached higher ground where there would be no traps, climbing a hill where he had a vantage over the area.
The Black Army scout and Miro saw each other at the same time. Miro reached over his shoulder for the hilt of his zenblade, but seeing the green of his armoursilk, the scout turned and ran. The black-clad scout was nearly a hundred paces away, and Miro would never catch him.
Miro instead reached for the rail-bow he wore over his other shoulder.
He nocked an arrow to the string and pulled it back to his ear, once again picturing Master Goss telling him how to call forth the target, bringing it into focus. Miro released the arrow, and it sped through the air, to suddenly sprout from the middle of the scout's back. Without a word, the scout keeled over, his body close through the sight of the bow, yet incredibly distant when Miro put down the bow and looked on with unaided eyes.
Where there was a scout, an army would follow.
The Black Army's reinforcements were near.
Miro put his hand above his eyes, gazing at the distant hills. "Hurry," he muttered, thinking about the Halrana animators. He didn't even know if they'd found any salvageable constructs.
Miro was concentrating so hard on the far-off ridges that he almost didn't see it appear, rising up over the closest hill like a black tide.
Hordes of warriors came towards him: imperial legionnaires, screaming with bloodlust and waving their swords over their shaved heads; templars, their white tabards crusted with dirt an
d grime; and most numerous of all, a motley collection of swordsmen, axemen and pikemen gathered from the farthest reaches of the Tingaran Empire.
Miro turned and ran, oblivious to the danger as he once again dashed over the treacherous field littered with traps and trenches from the great battle once fought here. He kept his head down, his strides eating up the earth as he prayed he would be in time to warn the Halrana animators. The constructs would have to wait; Miro had brought these men here; he was responsible for getting them out alive.
Suddenly, Miro stopped short.
In front of him stood a glowing man of metal, symbols flickering red over the construct's black skin. Miro looked around and saw at least forty of them in a file, all activated.
The ironmen were alive.
"They're coming," Miro gasped. "The Black Army."
The ironmen advanced, and Miro realised there were more of them behind. Miro looked around for someone — anyone — finally spotting the figure of a man in green, seen in a flash between the marching rows of constructs.
The Alturan captain unclenched his fists, looking inordinately relieved when he saw Miro. "Lord Marshal, I was worried…"
"They're coming," Miro said. "The enemy are right behind me. How…?"
"They found a bunch in a cart that the enemy threw into a ditch and buried."
"How did they get them out?" Miro asked.
"The animators had them dig themselves out. Not much stops these things."
The moustached animator hurried up to Miro as the ironmen continued their advance, forming an unbroken line.
"I'm needed to help control the ironmen, Lord Marshal, but I thought you could use a briefing. The enemy destroyed the woodmen and the bonemen, but the ironmen proved too difficult, and so they were buried. Most are buried haphazardly, in a pile, but some like these were still filed up in their carts. We were able to renew them without too much difficulty."
The Hidden Relic (The Evermen Saga, Book Two) Page 22