She stood a little back from the front of the battlement and waved to both sides at the defenders in view before answering. “You said the Mage Guild’s creatures drained almost all of the power on that side of this wall. How much can you do?”
“Several intense heat spells without growing too exhausted”
“Good.” Mari leaned forward on the battlement again, tense as she surveyed the Imperial forces still coming ashore. “The Mechanics Guild has a weapon that’s actually very crude. It’s an armored wagon loaded with a lot of explosives. They roll it up next to something like the gate here, detonate it, and blow a really big hole in the wall.”
“How do they roll it?” Alain asked, already looking for such an object in the fires and smoke of the waterfront. “Does it use one of the Mechanic boiler creatures?”
“No,” Mari said, letting old anger enter her voice. “They once could do that, using an armored steam-powered tractor that could push the bomb wagon into position. But the last of those tractors broke a long time back, and the Senior Mechanics wouldn’t allow any fixes that changed anything important about the tractors, so they’ve stayed broken. The wagon will have to be pulled and shoved into place by a lot of people, probably legionaries ordered to do the job.”
“What must I do?” Alain asked.
“When I point it out to you, and show you where to hit it, you have to use your heat spell to detonate the explosive before the wagon gets too close to the wall.” Mari sighed, her thoughts bleak. “All those legionaries pulling it will be blown to pieces.”
Alain nodded to her. “Such a loss will cause the Imperials to be more mistrustful of their Mechanic allies.”
“It should show up any moment now. Judging from that argument I saw, the Imperials are already as mad as blazes that the Mechanics are taking so long to get it ready. Alain, I’ve become entirely too used to shooting at people, but I still cringe at the idea of blowing up a lot of them.”
“If you think of the illusion—" Alain began.
“I cannot see other people as illusions or shadows, Alain,” Mari broke in.
“That is not what I meant. All see the illusion which is the world in their own way. Some want to force all to see the illusion in that one way, their way. The men and women of the legions believe that the Emperor keeps them safe, but because of that they also believe it is right to require others to do as the Emperor commands. The Great Guilds want to force all to continue to live in an illusion that they control. You, Mari, and those with you, want to let everyone decide which form of the illusion to accept and to follow.”
“And that’s why I have to blow up people,” Mari said, wondering why Alain thought his explanation would help her feel better about doing it. She spotted movement on one of the streets leading toward the main gate. “I think they’re coming.”
From the outside, the formation resembled some sort of turtle, locked shields forming a solid barrier against attack as about forty legionaries dragged the heavy Mechanic bomb wagon toward the gate. In the center of them, Mari could catch glimpses of the wagon itself. “Can you see enough of it to place a spell?”
“No,” Alain said.
“Sergeant Kira,” Mari called. “Go down to the Tiae cavalry. I want all of you with rifles to clear enough legionaries from around that cart they’re hauling to give my Mage a good shot at it.”
“Clear the legionaries from around the cart so the Mage can see to strike at it,” Sergeant Kira repeated. “Yes, Lady. It will be done.”
“And when I yell duck,” Mari called as Kira ran to the right, “make sure you get behind the battlement!”
She waited, tense, as the legionary tortoise crawled toward the gate. The formations on the far side of the open area had also locked shields to protect themselves from the effects of the coming explosion, but behind them Mari could see crossbows being raised into position. It looked like the Imperials were finally going to act in support of one of the Great Guilds’ attacks.
Distant orders were called among the legionaries, and with the whack of hundreds of crossbows firing at once, a storm of bolts flew toward the battlements near the gate. “As you warned, they will try to force us to keep our heads down,” Alain said, standing beside her.
“I didn’t want to be right about that. Get down, Alain!” Mari, thinking that any rational person would be hiding behind the battlement right now, crouched a little lower but stayed exposed as bolts slammed into the wall beneath her, into the sturdy stone of the battlement, or passed overhead to menace those behind the wall. Some of the defenders were hit and fell, but Mari held her ground, knowing that she had to spot the instant Alain had an opportunity to strike at the bomb wagon.
A ragged volley of rifle fire sounded to Mari’s right. Several legionaries whose shields protected the bomb wagon fell, leaving a clear view. “Alain, see that rounded object? As much heat as you can, right on it!”
Alain inhaled deeply, concentrating. Mari saw legionaries trying to cover the sudden gap in the wagon’s protective shell, then part of the metal casement suddenly glow white as Alain sent his heat onto it.
“Everybody down!” she shouted, ducking to set a good example.
She hadn’t quite made it all the way when a titanic roar sounded and even the massive stones of the wall shook from the force of the explosion. As she lay against the battlement, Mari’s eyes fell on her banner, seeing it ripped by the shockwave passing above her.
The echoes from the blast were still resounding when Mari hauled herself up to look. An impressive crater marred the spot where the bomb wagon had been.
There was no trace of the legionaries who had been clustered around it.
The formations behind them had been battered and thrown into disorder by the explosion. Despite their locked shields, some of the legionaries were not able to rise again.
Scattered, derisive cheers began along the battlement, merging into a loud celebration by the defenders mocking the attackers.
But as the cheers rolled over the still-burning buildings of the waterfront, Mari saw the legionaries reforming, their numbers still growing as more and more marched in from the waterfront.
Colonel Teodor approached her. “Lady, do you think the Mechanics will try again?”
“No,” Mari said. “Right now the Senior Mechanics are trying to figure out what made that bomb wagon explode before it reached the gate. Until they reach some conclusions, they won’t send another. That’s procedure, and I know from painful experience that the Senior Mechanics will stick to procedure no matter what.”
Teodor looked at the massing legions. More Imperials were coming into view bearing scaling ladders, and near the waterfront siege towers could be seen rolling off of large barges that had been towed to Dorcastle. “I will inform Field Marshal Klaus that the Imperials will strike us soon.”
As Teodor rushed off, Mari looked to the west, where the sun was sinking toward the horizon. The fiery sacrifice of the waterfront buildings had bought the defenders the majority of the day, and the repulse of the Mage attacks and then the Mechanic effort had used up still more daylight.
But there was still enough time for the Imperials to try brute force where Mage spells and Mechanic devices had failed.
Sergeant Kira came back to stand near Mari, smiling proudly. “What has you so happy?” Mari asked.
Kira gave Mari a surprised look. “I’m fighting alongside you, Lady. I helped you destroy that Mechanic wagon. It is something to be happy about, to be proud of.”
Mari looked back at her banner, its edges tattered by the force of the explosion of the bomb wagon. “We’ll be prouder when we’ve thrown the legions back into the sea.”
Sergeant Kira grinned.
Before anything else could be said, a low, rhythmic chant arose from the massed Imperials. Mari leaned on the battlement as the chant swelled in volume. The legionaries sang, their voices filling the air with vows to destroy the enemies of the Emperor, to honor their families, and to continue t
he fight to the end. There was something majestic about the huge chorus of legionaries, facing the might of the first wall of Dorcastle, singing their paean to death and glory. Something majestic—and frightening.
As the last choruses were sung, the legionaries began clashing swords and spears against their shields, the dull thud of metal on metal magnified by the thousands upon thousands of weapons and shields so that the sound echoed just as the earlier explosions had.
“Stand by. Stand by.” The word came racing down the battlement, where the defenders stood ready, no longer cheering but grim as they awaited the Imperial onslaught.
The last word and the last clash of metal on metal came together, as several siege towers were rolled into the open area and hundreds of scaling ladders were hoisted.
The brass horns of the Imperials blared their harsh notes across the waterfront, two rising notes repeated, ordering the legions to battle.
The legions let out a deep, sustained yell. Imperial crossbows fired a massive cloud of bolts at the battlements. Imperial ballistae unleashed their projectiles.
The legionaries charged the wall.
Mari, like the other defenders, crouched behind the battlement as the swarm of crossbow bolts slammed into the wall or flew past overhead.
“Up! Up! For Dorcastle! For the daughter!” The cries rang along the wall and the defenders rose again to hurl their own wave of crossbow fire at the charging legions.
Mari stared at the thousands of legionaries shouting their battle cries. Their numbers seemed endless. For every one that fell to defensive fire another hundred moved forward.
Sergeant Kira fired.
Mari watched an Imperial officer fall as her shot went home.
She drew her pistol, thinking the weapon felt very small against such foes.
Imperial crossbow bolts were flying in a continuous, deadly barrage, most missing but some hitting defenders.
Alain let out a gasp of effort, and Mari saw one of the Imperial siege towers erupt into flame despite the layer of thick hides protecting it.
Another siege tower caught fire, then a third.
Alain sagged down next to Mari. “Must rest,” he muttered.
“I’ve got it,” Mari told him.
The wave of Imperials reached the wall, the scaling ladders rising, other legionaries throwing up ropes with grappling hooks on the end to gain firm purchase on the battlement.
The soldiers near Mari were grabbing spears from the baskets set along the battlement, hurling them into the mass of legionaries below. Baskets of stones and piles of bricks provided other projectiles, and near the gate itself more oil poured down to be set afire and block attempts to bring battering rams into play.
Mari could no longer hear any clear orders or cries, just a loud, continuous roar of thousands upon thousands of voices and the constant clash of metal on metal and metal on stone.
The soldier on Mari’s left cast another spear, then staggered back, a crossbow bolt buried in his chest.
Men and women with armbands showing the red serpent and staff were running along the battlement, crouched over as they ran to avoid being hit by Imperial projectiles, tending to the wounded where they could and moving aside the dead who were beyond any human help.
Alain sat, his back to the battlement, regaining his strength. Mari rested her free hand on Alain’s shoulder, comforting both him and herself, as Sergeant Kira fired again and again. She could hear the Tiae rifles barking nearer the main gate, mowing down Imperials with a barrage that combined with the burning oil to keep the gate safe.
The top of a scaling ladder thudded into place next to Mari.
A soldier ran up with a spear, lodged it in the ladder and began trying to push it off. Mari added her strength to the effort and the ladder tilted back and fell.
There were so many ladders.
Imperials were reaching the battlement to clash swords with the defenders. Mari aimed and fired, dropping a legionary who had just reached the top. She walked rapidly down the battlement, her heart pounding but her head oddly calm as she fired again and again, putting shots into every legionary who tried to get onto the battlement.
Alain had gotten back to his feet.
A fourth siege tower, nearly to the wall, suddenly began burning.
Mari, reloading her pistol, saw among the mass of Imperials a group in the dark jackets of Mechanics running toward the main gate, carrying something heavy. “Sergeant! Get those Mechanics!”
Later, she would wonder if she had ever known any the Mechanics who died one by one as Sergeant Kira fired with deadly accuracy. Right now, the battle raging around her, she thought only of the need to stop them. When half their number had fallen, the survivors dropped their burden and fled, two more of them falling to Kira’s bullets before they got out of range. The object they had been carrying was left behind on the pavement, the attacking legionaries obviously unaware of what lay among them. “Alain! Can you manage another heat spell strong enough to set off that smaller bomb?”
“I will,” Alain said.
She grabbed him as he fell, exhausted by the effort, hearing the boom of the explosion and knowing that another Mechanics Guild bomb had killed its share of legionaries. She lowered Alain to a sitting position again, feeling no pity for the attackers, thinking only the cold, hard truth that the Empire’s ill-chosen Great Guild allies had to this point killed far more legionaries than they had defenders of the city.
“Are you hurt, Lady?” someone cried.
Mari looked over to see a worried lieutenant gazing anxiously at her and realized again how many eyes were watching the daughter.
She stood up, facing the storm of the Imperial assault, and raised her hand holding her pistol high. “Freedom!” she called, certain that her voice was lost in the cacophony of yells and clash of weapons, punctuated by the crash of rifles near the gate. But her call was picked up by the nearest soldiers and repeated down the battlement, shouts of “freedom” and “the daughter” rising over the bedlam.
As Mari lowered her pistol she noticed the low rays of the sun lighting it. Looking to the west, she saw the sun was near setting.
But the legions kept coming, like the waves on the Sea of Bakre, endlessly crashing against the wall, wearing at the defenders despite mounting piles of their own dead on the streets of Dorcastle.
Fresh Imperial forces were appearing, unleashing a new rain of crossbow bolts. Here and there, Mechanic rifles boomed amid the Imperial ranks as well. Mari saw one of those Mechanics fall as Sergeant Kira fired again. She had to fight down fear that every rifle shot from the attackers was aimed directly at her, then realized that many likely were, since she was the only figure on the battlement wearing a Mechanics jacket and she was standing by the banner of the New Day that still waved behind her. “If I was smart I’d take off this jacket,” she told Alain. “But then, if I was smart I’d be a long way away from here.”
Alain, rising to his feet again, gave Mari a look in which she could read his fear for her. He rarely showed his feelings so clearly. “It would be wise to remove it. If you do, you would be safer.”
Mari looked down at her jacket, remembering all that it had once meant to her, all that it still did mean to her, and all that the daughter meant to the men and women dying around her. “No. This is part of what people expect to see, and even now I want people to know I am a Mechanic. I worked for this jacket. If I’m going to die, I’m going to be wearing this jacket when I do.”
“Do not say that.”
“Don’t worry, darling. I’m not dead yet. Hang on. I’ve got to help take care of something.”
Mari ran down the battlement to where a new siege tower was lumbering into contact. As the ramp on the tower fell onto the battlement and legionaries began pouring out, Mari emptied her pistol into them, halting the attackers’ charge in a welter of falling bodies. The soldiers around her cheered and hurled torches into the opening in the tower left by the dropped ramp, turning it into a tower of
flame from which legionaries fled or fell.
She raced back to Alain, reloading again, trying to remember how many clips of ammunition she had brought.
Sergeant Kira was standing by Alain, her rifle searching for targets worth a bullet. “Your Mage is all right, Lady! We will see to him!”
“Thank you.” Mari searched her pockets, counting the bullets she still carried. “If this keeps up, I may have to learn how to use a sword.”
Kira fired, and a moment later another Imperial officer fell. “You don’t know how to use a sword, Lady? I must teach you! Every woman should have that skill.”
“Maybe later,” Mari said, gasping for breath. There was a lull in the Imperial assault as the legionaries regrouped under the hail of stones, bricks, and spears still being thrown from the battlement. But the supplies of those projectiles on this wall were nearly exhausted. “It’s almost dark.”
“A bad time!” Sergeant Kira warned. “Still light enough for the Imperials to see, but getting dark enough that we can’t spot what they’re doing!”
As if her words had triggered the event, Mari heard a large explosion far to the left of her. “A bomb wagon,” she told Alain and Kira. “The Mechanics used another, and unfortunately were smart enough not to send it against this part of the wall.”
Trumpet calls were sounding along the wall, accompanied by messengers running to pass the word. “Lady,” Colonel Teodor reported, blood from a cut on his face painting half of it black in the growing dark, “the Imperials destroyed the secondary gate down that way and breached the wall. We have orders to fall back in stages to the second wall.”
“Do that,” Mari said, looking at Alain. “Can you walk?”
He pushed away from the wall, nodding.
Lieutenant Kaede appeared. “Lady, Field Marshal Klaus has ordered a fall back. The reserve forces on the ground have contained the Imperial break-through, but we won’t be able to hold them all night.” She pulled Mari’s banner from its holder. “I will accompany you to the second wall.”
Mari looked at Sergeant Kira. “You’re not coming yet?”
“In stages, Lady, so the Imperials don’t realize we’re falling back and come up along the entire wall,” Kira said. “I will meet you on the second wall.”
The Wrath of the Great Guilds (The Pillars of Reality Book 6) Page 13