Vice President Jane answered. “Certainly. Does that mean you’re withdrawing?”
“I am here to accept your surrender and prevent more useless loss of life,” the group commander snapped.
Mari shook her head, feeling stubborn and angry. “The only ones who can prevent more useless loss of life are you and the other Imperial commanders. You will not take Dorcastle. Stop trying. Stop wasting the lives of your legionaries.”
“Your numbers dwindle,” the group commander insisted.
“My army is on the way,” Mari said.
“It will not arrive in time.”
Alain replied, using his intimidating Mage voice. “Do you have foresight that grants such knowledge? The army comes. It will sweep away the legions.”
“The word of a Mage,” the group commander said. “Our awe of Mages has lessened considerably in recent days.”
“This Mage,” Mari said, “has cost you dearly in recent days. Don’t forget that.”
“Do you surrender? We are willing to offer terms for your soldiers. If we are forced to make them prisoner, they will not be released any time soon but will work at forced labor. If you surrender, we will grant them release once they relinquish their weapons.”
Field Marshal Klaus’s smile was grim. “You’ll get their weapons on the same terms as for the last three days, point first and in the guts of your legions.”
“How can you put your faith in a Mechanic?” the group commander asked. “Look at her! Arrogant in her jacket, already demanding the service of all of you! She is no different from any other Mechanic. All your sacrifices will achieve is a change in the name of your master.”
“There you are wrong,” Klaus said. “I have served Mechanics in the past because I must. I serve this one by choice. And count myself fortunate to do so, because she does not make me feel as though I serve, but rather that we are working together for a great and noble cause.”
“It is you who serves the purposes of the Great Guilds,” Vice President Jane added, “not the best interests of your Emperor.”
“End this,” Mari urged the group commander. “You cannot win.”
“We will end it,” the group commander said, “when the last wall has fallen, and you, Mechanic, are brought to the Emperor in chains to answer for your crimes.”
“That’s Master Mechanic,” Mari corrected her.
The Imperials turned and walked away.
Mari and the others went back toward the sally gate, Mari feeling an itching between her shoulder blades as she worried about a bullet or a crossbow bolt striking there in defiance of the rules of parley.
Alain shoved her.
Mari stumbled to one side, cursing as she fell across some of the dead legionaries before the wall, but her words broke off as the sound of a rifle shot pierced the air and the snap of a bullet followed.
Another shot rang out from the battlement.
Lieutenant Bruno and Lieutenant Kaede put themselves between Mari and danger as she got up and hastened with Alain inside the sally gate along with Vice President Jane. Field Marshal Klaus followed, his expression dark, and then the two lieutenants. Mari didn’t relax until the gate was shut and the locking bars across it once more.
A messenger ran up. “It was a Mechanic who shot, lying amid the Imperial dead farther from the wall. A soldier from the Third Regiment killed the Mechanic before she could fire again.”
“An assassin,” Mari said. She looked at Alain. “Thank the stars for your foresight.”
“It gave no warning,” Alain said. “I saw nothing. I just felt a need to shove you aside at that moment.”
“I’ll take whatever foresight offers in a case like this,” Mari said.
“The Mechanics Guild broke the parley truce,” Klaus grumbled. “The Imperials probably knew of it, but excused their dishonor by knowing the blame would lie with the Mechanics.”
“I doubt there will be any more attempts at parley,” Vice President Jane said. “I’ll get a report off to the government about what happened here so they can be wary of similar treachery.”
“It should be quiet for a little while,” the field marshal added. “They wouldn’t have tried a parley if they’d been able to mount another attack on the wall right away.”
Mari and Alain made their way back to the spot where her banner flew. “Thanks, soldier of the Third Regiment,” she greeted Sergeant Kira.
Kira nodded in reply, looking unhappy. “I didn’t spot her before she fired. When she reloaded, she had to move to work the lever on the Mechanics Guild rifle, so I got her then, but that was too late to stop the first shot.”
“I’m not complaining,” Mari said.
“I thank you for that,” Sergeant Kira said.
Colonel Teodor walked up. “I’m assuming they haven’t given up?”
“No,” Mari said. “The Imperials offered one small concession, but otherwise still just wanted us to surrender.”
“It looks quiet out there,” the colonel said, gazing out toward the buildings occupied by the Imperials.
“Field Marshal Klaus believes the Imperials will take a while to launch another attack,” Mari told him.
“Good! I’ll try to get some lunch…” Teodor looked at the position of the sun. “Or maybe dinner is the right word. We’ll get some food and drink up here.”
Mari slumped down against the battlement again. “The Third Regiment has been on the wall since the start of the fight. I’ll talk to Field Marshal Klaus about rotating you off the wall for a break.”
Sergeant Kira gave her an alarmed look, shaking her head. “I wish you wouldn’t, Lady. I mean, you can. You’re in charge. But you shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Mari asked, baffled.
“We’re an Old Line regiment, Lady. Us, the First and the Second as well. We don’t back off from a fight. It isn’t done. We stay in there until the battle is won. That’s the way it is, because that’s who we are. Everyone in an Old Line regiment knows the responsibility that comes with that.”
Mari gazed at Sergeant Kira, not needing the skills of a Mage to see how much Kira meant what she said. “I won’t do that, then, Sergeant. The Third Regiment will stay in the fight until it’s won.”
“Thank you, Lady,” Kira said, grinning with relief.
Mari felt herself nodding off from fatigue as the last portion of the day ran out, the sun appearing only briefly as it sank in the west. From the north came the sounds of the movement of large numbers of people and siege machines as the Imperials prepared for the next assault. But aside from Imperial ballistae continuing to fling projectiles at the defenders at irregular intervals, no other attacks took place.
Mari looked up as one of the Imperial missiles went past overhead, flaming brightly against the darkening overcast. A few days ago, she realized, she would felt the urge to duck. Now she just watched as the burning projectile fell among the buildings behind the third wall, spraying fiery fragments that the reserves raced to try to extinguish.
Alain, sitting beside her, placed his hand on hers.
“What are you thinking of?” Mari asked.
“I am thinking of you burning down the city hall in Ringhmon. Here we are, once again dealing with fire.”
“I wasn’t actually trying to burn down the city hall,” Mari reminded him. “That just happened.”
He ran his finger along the shoulder of her jacket, where a fresh score stood out. “This just happened as well.”
“Thanks for shoving me out of the way in time.”
“I hope I have a husband like you someday, Sir Mage,” Sergeant Kira said.
“There’s only one like him,” Mari said. “And he’s mine. —What’s the matter?”
“Oh…just…we took a muster.” Kira leaned back, her eyes closed. “It’s easy in the heat of the fight not to notice too much who’s fallen. But then you do the muster and you realize who’s not there anymore.”
Mari, feeling that words were useless, reached out to grip S
ergeant Kira’s shoulder.
Dinner came late, but for a wonder included hot soup and fresh bread. “They’re using up supplies in case we have to fall back again,” Kira advised. “And they know we need this. That’s one thing about Field Marshal Klaus, he looks after his people.”
The fires in front of the wall were burning down, but as the sun set the Imperials fired a volley from what must have been every ballista they had, the flaming projectiles racing across the sky to set off dozens of fires behind the third wall.
Field Marshal Klaus came by, saluting. “Lady, would you care to accompany me on a tour of the battlement?”
“Sure.” Mari got to her feet, Alain beside her.
They walked to the left. The battlement seemed to go on forever, broken occasionally by defensive towers bristling with weaponry. Soldiers came to attention as Mari passed, saluting, smiling, looking at her with the hope of drowning sailors who had just spotted a rescue ship. After a while, Mari realized her face was hurting. Holding a false, confident smile wasn’t easy on jaw and cheek muscles.
She saw the wariness with which many of the defenders regarded Alain, and so made a point of linking her arm in his and turning her smile on him frequently. Alain returned a look which told her that he appreciated her efforts.
And so they walked along the darkened battlement, their path illuminated by shielded lanterns, Mari greeting individuals, everyone expressing confidence, while to the north the brooding menace of the Imperial legions waited for the dawn.
After reaching the eastern end of the battlement, where the fitted stone met the living rock of the valley wall towering into the sky, they began retracing their steps along street level to speak with those in reserve and the support people like the cooks and the healers. Those reserve units not committed to fighting fires were trying to rest, but Mari greeted those who were awake. She spoke with Major Danel and his remaining cavalry from Tiae, feeling an odd sense of anxiety as she left them. That done, Field Marshal Klaus led the small group back on the wall where they walked down the right-hand side of the battlement.
Mari paused when she saw a single man in the uniform of Tiae saluting her. “Where are the others?”
“I’m all that’s left, Lady. Of the rifles, that is. The Imperials have been concentrating their fire on us.” He sounded proud of that.
“How are you doing for ammunition?” Mari tried not to let her distress show.
“Got plenty, Lady. Bullets the others didn’t have a chance to fire.” He hefted his rifle. “Thanks for letting us make a big mark on the battle.”
How did one respond to someone expressing thanks for the deaths of his comrades and his own likely soon to follow? “Thank you for being here.”
When they reached her banner again, Mari was both physically and emotionally exhausted. After bidding farewell to Field Marshal Klaus, she huddled next to Alain, hoping she would have another night without dreams.
Unable to rest, she went through the remaining packs of ammunition, counting the clips and loading loose rounds into emptied clips.
That done, Mari gazed south, wondering how things were at Pacta.
“You should sleep, Lady,” Sergeant Kira said, her voice soft in the night. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”
“Another day like today, huh?”
“Maybe worse.”
Mari sighed, wondering what “worse” could be. “Thanks for being here, Kira.”
“It’s an honor and a pleasure, Lady.”
“The honor and the pleasure are mine, sister.”
Mari watched another ballista projectile trace a fiery path across the sky and slam down in the buildings below. The night was at least half gone.
She must have passed out from exhaustion after that. The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake as breakfast rations were passed out.
* * * *
They attacked at dawn, ballistae firing volleys of projectiles, clouds of crossbow bolts filling the air, and endless waves of legionaries and scaling ladders trying to surmount the battlement.
Alain destroyed another siege tower.
Mari helped Sergeant Kira wipe out another attempt to place a Mechanic bomb at the gate.
Her rifle became useless when the operating rod cracked, probably due to the haste with which they were being manufactured. Mari drew her pistol and used that as legionaries fought to gain a toehold on the battlement.
The defenders fought off one assault, then a second, then a third.
Mari stared up at the thickening overcast, guessing that it was nearly noon. Alain, weary from casting spells and using his knife in hand-to-hand fighting, slumped beside her.
She hadn’t heard any rifle fire from the battlement to the right since the second assault, and guessed that the last Tiae rifle was dead.
The portion of the battlement defended by the Third Regiment had shrunk as more and more soldiers were killed or wounded. It felt like an awful lottery, Mari thought, one where chance alone decided who lived and who died.
Sergeant Kira knelt behind the battlement beside Mari. Kira had been next to her all day, once killing a legionary who had reached the battlement and, unseen by Mari, had leveled a crossbow at her. Alain had told her of that. Now Kira rested her head against the stone like one driven beyond endurance.
Mari kneeled beside her. “Are you all right?”
Sergeant Kira nodded, reloading the rifle, then looked at her. “Lady Mari. I wish to say again that it has been an honor fighting alongside you. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Mari said. She suddenly realized how much she had come to like Kira in a very short but very intense time. “Call me Mari when we’re alone.”
“You honor me…Mari,” Kira paused, her eyes looking at something invisible to Mari. “You will tell your children of me?”
“Of course. I said I would.”
Sergeant Kira smiled at her. “I’m not afraid. Tell my brother I fought well.” The Imperial brass horns called the legions to the attack again, and Kira came to her feet, resting her rifle on the parapet, taking careful aim again.
An instant later she jerked backward, falling loosely onto her back, eyes open and staring up sightlessly at the sky. Mari stared at the crossbow bolt protruding from Sergeant Kira’s forehead. With one trembling hand, Mari reached to touch Kira’s face. Neither the woman’s face nor eyes moved. Reaching higher, Mari’s fingers closed Kira’s unresisting eyelids.
Too much. Too much. The long fights on the first wall and the second wall and now the third wall. The retreats. The death, the killing, the dying, the city burning and being smashed around them. And now Sergeant Kira dead as well.
Mari heard someone sobbing, loud gasps of pain and sorrow, and only gradually realized it was her. Her entire body was shaking, tears streaming down her face to splash onto the dusty stone beneath.
She heard the latest Imperial assault hit the wall.
As if acting on its own, one of Mari’s arms reached out, grabbing the rifle and pulling it gently from Sergeant Kira’s unresisting grasp. In a convulsive motion, Mari lunged up and forward, bringing the rifle down on the parapet. Setting the sights on an Imperial crossbow wielder, Mari fired, seeing the figure jerk and fall. She couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything even though she was dimly aware of bullets and crossbow bolts tearing past or striking the wall near her. The world seemed to have gone gray, all of the colors pale and washed out, only the figures of the Imperial soldiers clear in her sight.
She aimed carefully at another crossbow carrying soldier, her mind numb, fired, shifted aim again to an Imperial centurion urging legionaries forward, fired, shifted aim again to a Mechanic with a rifle, fired…
“Mari!” Alain must be yelling, but his voice sounded faint and far away. A hand seized her and pulled her back and down. Alain shook her. “Mari! Your weapon is no longer working!”
She looked down, seeing that she was still pulling the trigger but without result. The ammunition clip
was empty. Still acting in a daze, Mari ejected the empty clip, dug in her pocket for a full one, slammed it home, then shrugged off Alain’s hands and reared up to level the rifle at the Imperials once more.
The rifle leaped in her arms, slamming back against her shoulder, as she aimed and pulled the trigger again and again, blinking as tears momentarily obscured the Imperial soldiers in her sights.
Rock dust sprayed her as a bullet struck very close. Mari rubbed her eyes, trying to see well enough to aim, then Alain’s hands had her once more and were pulling her down.
“Mari! Please!”
She shoved Alain away with a snarl as the top of a scaling ladder thudded against the battlement nearby. The rifle was empty again. Mari yanked out her pistol, flipped off the safety, pointed it at the ladder and fired as a legionary pulled himself up.
Knocked off the ladder by the impact of Mari’s bullet, the Imperial soldier fell downward with a despairing cry. Ignoring the projectiles still aimed at her, Mari leaned up and over to fire down at more soldiers climbing the ladder. They fell, too. Something fired at her sliced across one cheek and left a bloody gash in its wake, but she kept shooting at the endless stream of soldiers until the slide on the pistol stayed back, indicating the clip on that was empty, too.
Alain was setting fire to another ladder just to the side. Mari glanced around, still numb inside, and grabbed the empty rifle. Setting the butt against the top of the Imperial ladder, she shoved with more force than she would have guessed possible for her. The ladder toppled backwards, soldiers leaping off of it as it fell, crashing down among the attackers.
Mari flipped the rifle around, loaded another clip, and emptied it into another group of soldiers trying to raise a different ladder.
For the moment, there were no enemies coming up the wall near them. Mari fell to her knees, exhausted and stunned, next to Sergeant Kira’s body. She couldn’t see any other defenders on the battlement near her and in a vague way wondered why.
“Mari.” Alain was beside her again, though his voice still seemed to come from far away. “They have broken through to the left and right. Orders have come to fall back to the next wall. I told the others to leave. We must also leave now.”
The Wrath of the Great Guilds (The Pillars of Reality Book 6) Page 19