‘Then it’s a good thing there was none o’ that. Just an errant gust of wind and smoke from the city, hey?’
‘You play a dangerous game, Sister.’
‘Now’s the time for it.’
Ivanr grunted his agreement. He faced Carr. ‘Have the company form up for advance. Martal wants us past the city.’
Carr saluted. ‘Aye, sir.’
Sir? When did that happen? And what did that make him? Ivanr frankly had no idea and he decided he didn’t care.
Those veterans who managed to doze off below decks were woken in the late afternoon just before evening. Some twenty Malazan squads and a horde of Blue marines crowded the two dromonds that constituted the ungainly catamaran. A meal of watery soup came around in pots and ladles. Sails were trimmed. The bow-crest eased to almost nothing. Suth nudged Len while they ate their flat hardbread. ‘We’ve slowed, yes?’
‘Yeah. Have to give the others time to catch up, hey? And the sun’s setting – can’t have that in our eyes.’
Suth returned to the grainy bread. He hadn’t thought of that. To the west the shore passed as distant green hills, wooded, with few signs of habitation. Beyond rose a crest of tall misted mountains, dark and snow-peaked. Goss came round, gripping shoulders and making a last equipment check. He and Len grasped forearms. ‘We’re sixth in line. Form up along the port side.’
‘Any munitions to share out?’
Goss snorted. ‘I suspect these Blues will be supplying more to the fight than any of us would like.’
Len waved that off. ‘Had to ask. And that thing between the ships. What is it?’
‘Don’t know. Blues are all mum about it. May be a catapult.’
After Goss moved on Keri sat with them. ‘That’s no catapult.’
‘Been checking it out, have you?’ Len rumbled with a sly smile.
‘Yeah. And it ain’t no catapult.’
‘What is it then?’
She hunched, peering round. ‘I got a theory … too crazy to say, though.’ She drew her weapon, what Suth had learned the Malazans called a ‘long-knife’. She checked its edge.
Suth frowned. ‘You’re not coming with us on the assault, are you?’
Keri’s gaze narrowed on him and her thin lined face lost all expression. ‘Why?’ she asked, her voice flat.
‘’Cause you’re only wearing leathers.’
She relaxed, slapped her weapon home in its wooden sheath. ‘Listen, kid … this is your first engagement, so maybe you should stay behind me …’
Len laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Take it easy, Kerr. He’s green.’ To Suth: ‘Just remember, in battle, we saboteurs tell you to do something – you do it. Okay?’
Len was the corporal so Suth said nothing, though he saw no reason why he should do whatever the saboteurs told him. They weren’t even armoured heavily enough to last the first exchange. It was useless bringing them along on what he assumed would be a plain frontal assault.
As the afternoon gave way to the evening more Blue and Malazan vessels gathered. The ships manoeuvred into battle groups. Messages passed as brilliant flaring colours, while Malazan vessels exchanged coded signals by flags. Suth heard from the talk going around that the Blue Admiral, Swirl, was in charge and that the sergeants weren’t particularly happy about it. They’d have preferred to have Greymane here. No one mentioned the young Adjunct.
The fleet rounded the headland of a bay and there before them was the harbour of Aamil. It had the look of a fortress stronghold built specifically to resist any assault from the sea. Suth thought of Mare nearby to the south. Twin curving moles met at a narrow harbour entrance flanked by stout guard towers. The main fortress rose straight from the water in a tall featureless curtain wall of saltstained grey limestone blocks. Access from the harbour was limited to the narrow inlet between the fortified towers.
Voicing Suth’s thoughts, Len let go a long low whistle. ‘Now that’s a stronghold.’
‘These Blues better know what they’re doin’,’ Keri grumbled.
‘They have so far.’
Yana squeezed by, cuffed Suth. ‘Let’s go. Form up.’
Distantly, the ringing of bells echoed from across the bay. The Skolati were readying themselves.
Four Blue men-of-war led the attack. As the ships closed on the harbour entrance, what appeared to be a dark flight of birds erupted from each of the broad squat towers. The flights resolved themselves into twin showers of arrows. The bow-fire scoured the decks of the men-of-war. Suth could just make out the oval shapes of raised shields lining those decks. Then twin thumps echoed and two great rocks, both trailing flames, came flying from atop the towers. The rocks screamed down to scatter immense showers of spray between the ships.
Suth was kneeling with his squad next to the portside railing, in line with the other marines. ‘Damned big onagers on those towers,’ Len mused.
‘Have to sneak by close,’ Keri said.
‘Why?’ Suth asked.
‘With them machines,’ Keri said, ‘their aim’s worse the closer you are.’
The voices of the squad sergeants rang out: ‘Ready shields!’
Ahead, two of the men-of-war rocked on the water as another pair of fiery boulders crashed into the sea between them, while the remaining two swung wide, one to each side, drawing close to the tumbled rock shore of the mole and out of sight. Len chuckled at that.
‘What?’ Suth asked.
‘There’s a nasty choice. Shoot at the ship whose crew’s about to besiege you, or keep firing at the rest?’
Suth bit down and resorted to pleading with his insane collection of Dal Hon gods that the gigantic target he currently rode – two dromonds side by side! – would somehow fail to be hit.
A third volley of stones, now no longer flaming, arced skyward. One came hurtling down on a Blue transport, cleanly smashing the vessel in half in a terrific shattering of wood. The other sent a wash of spume over the lumbering catamaran.
‘Can we even fit through?’ Len shouted to a nearby Blue marine.
The Moranth peered ahead. ‘It will be … how do you Malazans say … a close thing.’
Bellows rose from all sides: ‘Raise shields!’
Suth quickly huddled beneath his. Everyone likewise hunched. He heard a hissing as of sleet or heavy rain and he tensed his arm. Then came a hammering all around as a forest of arrows slammed into the hardwood decking and the layered wood, leather, and lacquer of the shields. A few men and women cried out as arrows punched through to impale arms, or found unprotected flesh. A marine next to Suth snarled his pain and outrage as an arrow nailed his foot to the deck.
A warning shout went up from the stern and Suth twisted to see the helmsman down and Blue sailors scrambling to right the tiller arm. The awkward behemoth lost headway, began edging sideways in the narrow harbour inlet. Everyone started yelling warnings.
‘Stay under cover!’ the sergeants warned.
An immense explosion from the port tower punched the catamaran. Rocks tumbled down the mole. A cloud of dust and smoke engulfed the guard tower on that side. Just visible above the smoke, the roof platform canted, tilting in slow motion, to fall backwards away from the harbour inlet. Keri jumped to her feet, shield held over her head. ‘Yeah! Hood take you! That’s the way to do it!’ She was hopping up and down. Everyone was cheering as the tower disappeared into the cloud of debris and rocks that came churning the water and even clattering on to the decking.
‘Get down!’ Goss yelled.
Keri, and many others, tumbled forward as one dromond, the other half of the catamaran, grated against submerged rock. ‘Ready poles!’ a Blue officer called. Blue sailors and marines dropped shields to obey. ‘Push off!’
From beneath his shield Suth watched as the marines and sailors strove to free the catamaran. Meanwhile, the withering bow-fire had not diminished from the other tower. Many fell, clutching at arrows that seemed to sprout from nowhere. Troopers clamoured to be allowed to lend a hand. ‘Stay w
here you are!’ the sergeants yelled.
The catamaran rocked again as another explosion took the tower on the opposite side. This one sprayed stones and debris out over the harbour so close as to pluck Blue sailors from the bow of one of the dromonds. The tower tilted, settling, and slowly slid down the mole in an avalanche of rubble that crashed into the harbour.
Everyone jumped up cheering. Suth noted that as it fell the tower buried the Blue man-of-war anchored at its feet. He wondered how many, if any, had remained on board.
With all hands contributing, the catamaran grated free of the rocks and edged its way through the harbour mouth. Peering behind, Suth saw practically the entire invasion fleet bunched up behind them. Not the brightest decision, it seemed to him, to send them through so early. Perhaps they ought to have been last. Or maybe he was just thinking of his self-preservation.
Now the fleet poured in practically bow to stern, one after the other. A fresh round of bells sounded from Aamil. Smaller onagers and catapults on the walls fired, most falling short as they tested their reach. Suth’s catamaran headed straight for the centre of the curtain wall. The other vessels fanned out to either side.
Fishing boats and cargo vessels now rose into flames all about the harbour. The Skolati sailors sent them coasting out to meet the invaders, then abandoned them. The Blue vessels appeared to ignore the much smaller fireships, knocking them aside, though they did furl all their canvas – the most flammable part of them, Suth imagined.
A great thrumming brought his attention to the main stronghold wall where it climbed straight up from the water. A black cloud rose, arcing up into the darkening night-blue sky. ‘Raise shields!’ the sergeants bellowed once more. Already sick of the threat of arrows, Suth hunched again.
The swath the fortress bow-fire raked across the vessel was astonishing. The deck appeared almost furred in arrows. So intense was the missile fire, no counter-barrage could even be attempted. Everyone tightened into balls and hid for their lives beneath their shields. Sneaking a glance from under his, Suth saw transports thumping against wharves, lowering wide gangplanks, and emptying their cargoes of marines in great surging hordes that charged up the stone piers.
Arbalests and scorpions on nearby men-of-war cracked, firing, and Keri stood again. ‘This I gotta see!’
‘Will you get down!’ Goss yelled.
A fusillade of explosions engulfed the top of the curtain wall in smoke and bursting fragments of stone. The rubble fell in long arcs to sleet the waters or punch through vessels. Keri sat, disappointed. ‘Mostly sharpers, those.’
Len shook his head. ‘What’d you expect? We’re right under the damned wall!’
An order went up from the Blue sterncastle: ‘Raise the tower!’
Keri jumped to her feet again, punching the air. ‘I knew it! Did you hear that? It’s a tower. A Hood-damned siege tower!’
All the while the withering barrage of arrow-fire continued to rake the decking. Suth began to wonder how this woman managed to survive any engagement. Near the bow sailors struggled with circular mechanisms while Blue marines protected them with raised shields. The ratcheting of iron vibrated the dromond as the sailors worked what appeared to be some kind of immense winch.
The tall construction, as long as the vessels themselves, began to swing upwards from the stern. Suth stared, genuinely amazed. Overlapping shields layered the front and sides. The open rear exposed a plain scaling ladder. A shielded walled and roofed box topped it. Everyone watched its agonizingly slow climb to the vertical. Water poured from the thing, some crashing down to the decks. Len was stroking his chin, quite impressed. Keri hopped from foot to foot, hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘I read about one of these in Gatan’s Compendium. We’ve never been able to build one.’
But Len was frowning now, troubled by something.
It was too short. Too short by far. The curtain wall rose nearly twice its height. Just as Suth opened his mouth to ask about this the ratcheting changed timbre to a deeper, more laboured, slower turning. And the tower began to rise. Not the entire thing; it became obvious that the tower was in fact built of two segments, one snug inside the other. It was the inner one that now rose.
The Skolati had reorganized the battlement defences and rocks pelted down, smashing to the decking, flattening troopers. The arrow-fire returned to its unrelenting stream. Suth adjusted his helmet strap one-handed, the other supporting his shield up over his head.
‘Move forward!’ sergeants bellowed. ‘Ready to climb!’
The men-of-war and flanking support ships fired another salvo from their arbalests, scorpions and bow onagers and Suth flinched, knowing now what was to come. Staccato explosions atop the wall obscured it in smoke and dust. Rubble came showering down upon them in pebbles and stones large enough to knock a hole in the deck. A marine in line disappeared as a stone smashed her flat. Everyone cursed the Blues to Hood. Suth agreed, wondering what was worse: the defending arrow-fire, or their own supporting counter-barrage. Now he understood Len’s cryptic remark about the Blues supplying more munitions to the fight than they would want.
‘Forward!’
The troopers readied themselves, shields overhead. Suth peered under his to the bows. He caught a glimpse of the Adjunct, now in a red cloth-wrapped helmet and a heavy banded hauberk with mail sleeves. The young officer leaned in to take the ladder first. Two squads of what looked like elite Blue marines followed him. Soon after that the line edged forward.
Arrow-fire returned, scattered, but gathering in density, clattering like hail. A roar shook the dimming evening as the marines, Blue and Malazan, clamoured before the west gatehouse. A much heavier defence faced them there. Suth’s mouth had gone as dry as dirt yet his palms were wet. Action was what’d he wanted all this time but now that it was here it was not what he’d been expecting at all. This was no testing of individual prowess of the sort boasted by his brothers and sisters back in Dal Hon. Yet, bizarrely, the courage it demanded was perhaps even greater: one had to abandon all personal control, release one’s fate to the greater effort. It was terrifying, yet intoxicating. He felt helpless, yet part of an unstoppable force.
His squad, Goss leading, reached the bow decking. Here a section of the railing had been removed and a gangway led to the rear of the tower. A solid line of men and women slowly worked their way up the ladder above, shields swinging at their backs.
‘Keep moving,’ a Blue officer told everyone who passed, a hand on his or her shoulder. ‘Do not stop at the top. Push forward. Make room for more.’ Pyke took a grip of the ladder ahead of Suth, while Wess was behind. Len and Keri brought up the rear.
Though water still poured down the construction, Suth found the climbing easy. Some sort of sand or grit coated the rungs of the ladder. Arrows and rocks rattled from the layered shields, striking at poor angles.
‘Move your fat arse,’ Pyke yelled at Dim, above.
The tower shook then, rocking back and forth, and a crash sounded above. Suth hugged the rungs for his life. But no one came tumbling down and the tower remained upright. A beast-like roar from the top told the story. Enough troopers had reached the platform to lower the gangway and charge. Iron rang from iron and now bodies fell tumbling past to hit the water with a splash, or strike the decking with a sickening thump. Suth fixed his concentration on each rung before him and just climbed.
He dared not look down; he’d never been much for climbing. His arms ached already and he hadn’t even reached the fighting yet. Then from either side hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him upright. ‘Go! Go! Go!’ someone yelled, propelling him forward. He charged after Pyke, drawing his sword and readying his shield. The gangway sagged and swayed beneath him. He reached the wall battlements and stepped down amid shattered stone and a carpet of fallen bodies. The noise that buffeted him from behind the curtain wall almost knocked him back. Fighting clashed from either side. Explosions lit the evening across the port city as Moranth incendiaries came arcing in overhead
to fall blossoming in orange and gold flame. Suth stood transfixed by the sight of such chaos. This was not fighting as he knew it; this was war. Two arrows hammering into his shield shook the trance from him and he charged to the right after Pyke.
His squad was bunched up at the rear of a line of marines choking an open walkway leading to a tower. ‘What’s the hold-up?’ Yana called.
‘Who knows?’ someone shouted back.
Arrows clattered from the stones around them, fired from rooftops behind the wall. ‘Let’s move!’ Lard bellowed. ‘Our backsides are hanging out here!’
‘I’m sure they’re working on it!’ another voice called back.
An explosion shot smoke and debris on to the broad street below. In the fitful light Suth glimpsed fallen bodies, broken rock and equipment. Marines appeared, charging after retreating defenders. A great shout went up from within the tower and the line began advancing.
‘Who do you think that was?’ Keri asked Len as they shuffled down the tight passage.
‘Thumbs, maybe. Or Slowburn.’
‘Naw. Tight work like that? Musta been Squeaky.’
Len made a noise. ‘She’s overrated.’
‘Cap it!’ Goss barked from below.
They charged through a guardroom and hall cluttered by fallen Skolati defenders and marines. A barrier of furniture had been blasted aside, and the stone was slick underfoot with blood and fluids. The tower door had been demolished. The squads piled up behind pushed them out like a great vomit of rage, confusion and frustration. Squads peeled off down narrow streets. Goss was there and he yanked Suth aside to send him over to where Yana, Lard and Dim stood together in a triangle watching the darkened doorways and windows. Suth joined them, followed by the rest. Goss addressed them, hands raised. ‘Okay. This is where it gets hairy. The Skolati have fallen back but they’ll re-form. Where, we don’t know. We’re to push to the east gate tower to hit them from behind. Follow me. Stay close. And keep your eyes open.’ They formed two columns, Len and Keri in the middle, Goss leading, and headed up one of the narrow cobbled streets.
The Malazan Empire Series: (Night of Knives, Return of the Crimson Guard, Stonewielder, Orb Sceptre Throne, Blood and Bone, Assail) (Novels of the Malazan Empire) Page 145