Through the day, I watched the town come together, preparing for its defense. I especially watched Kai, who surprised me—no, actually, who stunned me—by taking our rough plan made of utensils and mugs and started turning it into exactly what I’d envisioned. She called it common sense, but it was much more than that. She had an eye for fields of observation and shooting, for interlocking arcs of fire from defensive positions, for understanding what the most likely enemy approaches were, and how to block them with obstacles that didn’t stop attackers as much as they encouraged them to change direction, by following new routes right into kill zones. And she did it all without any tech, just her brains and her gut instincts.
I was glad she’d managed to ambush me with that broken shotgun by the lakeshore, which was the first step to her being here.
It was better than that. My own plans, which I’d been chewing over all morning and into the afternoon, relied on Watermanse taking care of its defenses without me. Watching Kai surveying and assessing ground, laying out defensive works and organizing work parties, I had no worries about that at all.
In the meantime, Lorna organized the evacuation of our noncombatants. It ended up being just over forty people—all the children less than fourteen or so years old, anyone too old to fight, and a half-dozen who, for one reason or another, simply couldn’t fight because of infirmity of some sort. She also worked out the minimum number of able-bodied who would need to crew the ketch and one of the sloops—a dozen men and women, none of whom wanted the job. All of them wanted to stay and fight. Now that was good. The fact that people weren’t clamoring to get the hell out of Watermanse meant our morale was good, at least for now. By sundown that day, the two ships were ready to set sail, heading to Broken Rocks, a port about a day away to the north. Those chosen to crew them vowed to come back as fast as they could, and even see if they could bring some reinforcements back with them. If Osterway got all the Hightec it wanted, after all, then everyone settled even close to Le’kemeshaw would be in serious danger.
As night fell, I leaned on a new, partly constructed battlement of logs and peered into the gathering gloom. Someone stepped down into the firing pit beside me; I didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“You’re going back out there, Cus, aren’t you,” Reyna said.
I nodded. “Have to.”
“So when do we leave?”
Now I did turn to her. “We aren’t leaving anytime,” I said.
“I’m not letting you go out there alone, Cus.”
“Won’t be alone. I’ll have Flint with me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Cus,” she said, “I know you and Flint are good at what you do, but so am I. I can help you, and I can take care of myself.”
“Don’t doubt it. Not a bit. But you’d still be in my way.”
“Look, I—”
I grabbed her hands and held them in mine. “You’d be in the way because I’d be worried about you. I’d need to keep you safe. If I had to make a choice between you and the things I need to do, I’m not entirely sure I could. I can’t afford that.”
I saw her eyes gleaming at me in the dark and knew she was putting together arguments, but she finally just nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I understand.”
“Besides,” I said, “when I do get back here, there’ll be more than enough distraction and worry to go around. At least here, it’ll be shared between a whole bunch of us.”
She smiled, but said nothing else, and we just spent a while together, staring into the night.
11
The next day dawned chilly and overcast. Glory season really was winding down.
I found Kai and we toured the town. It was something, seeing our off-the-cuff defensive plan taking shape in real life. The ogres were involved now, too, digging and toting and heaving stuff around. I was really pleased to see Lanni and Gurdon throwing themselves into the effort wholeheartedly, especially since just a couple of days earlier, coming to Watermanse hadn’t even really been in their plans.
It wasn’t just the ogres, though. As we walked among the growing defensive works, it was clear Lanni and Gurdon really weren’t just scavengers, but were also engineers. Lanni rigged up some makeshift barbed wire, organizing a work party to twist nasty bits of scavenged wire onto cordage normally used to rig the fishing boats. By putting ankle-high stakes in among waist-high grass and weeds, then stringing her quick-and-dirty barbed wire in a webwork among them, she’d concocted a dangerous obstacle. Anyone running, or even walking into it, would not only trip on the unseen stuff, but they’d fall into said nasty, twisted bits of wire.
Gurdon, in the meantime, rounded up random bits of metal scrap from around the town and incorporated them into the firing points and bulwarks, cleverly angling them so incoming bullets would glance harmlessly away. He also set out shallow pits, filled them with wicked wooden stakes, whittled sharp and fire-hardened, then covered them up with flimsy mats of branches, leaves, and weeds. Anyone stepping into one of these pits was going to suffer some really nasty injuries to their feet and lower legs.
“That’s diabolical,” I said to him, as he put the finishing touches on the camouflage covering one of these stake pits. “How’d you come up with that?”
In answer, he yanked off his boot and sock and held up his bare foot. A deep scar puckered the side of his instep. “This happened when Lanni and me were . . . let’s call it liberating some interesting bits of scrap from some folks that were apparently opposed to the idea. A bit more one way and it would’ve gone right through the middle of my foot. That would’ve left more’n just a scar, I think.”
Kai frowned. “I’ll say. Surprised you don’t have trouble from that anyway.”
Gurdon shrugged. “Aches sometimes, when my feet get cold. Have a pair of boots in the wagon with some metal plate built into the soles, just to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Anyway, struck me afterward as a damned good idea.” He pulled his sock back on then worked his foot back into his boot. “Haven’t had a chance to try it out until now, though.”
We moved on, taking in the rest of the defenses. Kai had left a young man named Keller in charge of the mortar, because he’d been the one who found it, fired it, and generally knew more about it than anyone else. My tech told me it was 105 mm and suddenly made me aware of a bunch of other stats and facts about it, but Keller seemed to know his stuff.
“Figure we’ll set up two firing positions,” he said. “This one here, and one over that way, just this side of that warehouse. That scrapper fella, Gurdon, says he can arrange for us to have one of his ogres carry it from one place to the other. That way, we’re not firing from one position all the time. Makes us a little harder to take out.”
That made me look at him a little more closely. He was maybe twenty years old, and here he talked casually about the idea of being taken out. I figured either he didn’t truly appreciate the gravity of the whole situation, in the way of young people, or he did and, in the way of older people, was resigned to it.
Maybe it was some of both.
“You want a third position,” Kai said, narrowing her eyes and looking around. “Back that way, I think, on the edge of the market square. It’ll give you a field of view out west, against anything coming from that direction, and another place to move to so you, you know, don’t get taken out.”
Keller looked her for a moment, then smiled and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
As we walked on, I had to say, “You really are a natural at this. I don’t believe in reincarnation, but if I did, I’d think you were some great warrior in a past life.”
She scowled and punched my arm. “I’m a great warrior in this life, Custis Mars, and don’t you forget it.”
I laughed and pretended to rub my arm. “Okay, okay, you’re a great warrior in this life, too.”
We walked on a bit longer, then I saw her look at me sidelong. I thought she was going to say something, but she didn’t.
>
I looked around the common room of The Drowned Man, at our defense council. I saw fatigue etched onto everyone’s faces, along with more than a little apprehension. But I also saw determination. I’d been especially looking for the latter and was glad to see it. Again, time would tell how long it would last. I reminded myself these weren’t soldiers, they were fishermen and merchants, woodcutters and traders—but the determination was there right now, and that was good enough.
“The town’s defenses are looking . . . well, better than just good,” I said. “Everyone has done excellent work. Attacking Watermanse is going to be hard, and it’s going to be fucking bloody for Venari and the Osterway, and it’s going to cost them dearly.”
Lorna nodded, then said, “That’s good. But we’re right back to, is it going to be enough? And, unless things have changed a whole lot, I’m guessing the answer is probably not.”
“So how,” Garet asked, “do you plan to take the fight to them, like you said? If we’re looking at being outnumbered and outgunned here, behind our defenses, then out there, in the open . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“You’re right,” I said. “Even if we march out with everyone we have here, the battle won’t be over in hours, it’ll be over in minutes.”
Garet looked around, then back at me. “Okay, so?”
“So Cus is going alone,” Aldebar said.
I glanced at Reyna, but I knew she hadn’t said anything to him. Aldebar had just worked it out.
Lorna looked at me, her eyebrows up. “You can’t be serious.”
“Aldebar’s right,” I said. “Flint and I are going out by ourselves. We’re the ones who are going to take the fight to Venari.”
“I’ll say it again,” Lorna said. “You can’t be serious.”
“You against how many?” Garet asked. “Hundreds?”
I nodded. “At least.”
Lanni, who’d been spelled off supervising the ogres by Gurdon, whistled softly. “I know I’m a little crazy, and even I think that’s pretty stupid, Cus.”
Kai gave her head a vigorous nod. “Yeah, you’re good, maybe even a greater warrior than I am.” A fleeting smile lit her face, but it vanished quickly. “I mean, I’ve seen you in action, but even you’re not that good, Cus.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, “I don’t aim to turn it into some sort of stand-up fight. That’d get me gunned down about as fast as those Osterway Blackwings can pull their triggers. This is going to be strictly hit and run. I’m going to harass them, poke at them, and not let up. Between me and Flint, we’ll make sure they get no rest.”
“So you’re not really attacking them,” Aldebar said, “you’re attacking their morale.”
“Yeah. That’s really how you defeat an army. Make it so it doesn’t really want to fight.” I nodded toward Kai. “It’ll also slow them down and buy some more time for Kai to get more defenses planned and organized, and for everyone to get them built.”
Lorna gave her head a doubtful shake, though. “All along, you’ve been saying they’ll be determined, no matter what, to get their hands on that Hightec. If bloodying them here doesn’t make them flinch, why should you and Flint poking at them, as you say. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you can poke really, really hard, Cus, but still.”
“Because there’s another part to this,” I said. “Osterway are slavers. I expect a big contingent of their army is going to be slaves.” I leaned on the table. “And that’s going to cost them more than pretty much anything else we do.”
Lorna frowned at me. “Why?”
“Because,” I said, looking from one to the next, “like I’ve said before—free men make great allies.”
12
Flint and I departed the next day, while dawn was still just a promise, and headed south. I wanted to get started as early as possible, partly so we could cover most of the journey in daylight and reach the Osterway forces in time for nightfall, and partly because I wanted to avoid, as much as possible, running into Reyna, Kai, or anyone else before we left. Whatever goodbyes I felt I needed to say I’d said the night before, and now I just wanted to get moving.
Apparently, though, Reyna expected me to do just this; I found her standing near the outmost defensive ring, looking out into the darkness. I slowed as I approached. Watermanse townsfolk stood sentry nearby, but they drew away, apparently to give us some privacy.
“Sure you don’t want company?” she asked. I started to open my mouth, but she just went on, “I already know the answer, don’t worry.” She hooked her thumbs into her belt. “I just wanted to see you before you left.”
“Well, here I am.”
“Yeah, there you are.”
The silence stretched, grim and heavy. I shifted my pack a little and broke it with, “Look, Reyna, I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“I know.”
“Mind you, I’ll have the Osterway army right behind me, but we should still have a few minutes for a welcome-home-Cus party.”
“Maybe it’s Flint I’ll be waiting for.”
Flint uttered a quiet, whiny growl, her way of adding something to a conversation that was meant to sound as unthreatening as she could possibly make it. Reyna gave her a smile and a rub but turned back to me, quickly serious.
“In any case,” she said, “I will be waiting.”
“Better than you saying you won’t be.”
She took my hands in hers. “You be careful, Custis Mars.”
“We will be,” I said, squeezing her hands a bit. “We always are.”
She let go of my hands then leaned in, and we kissed. The start was good. The ending was better.
As Flint and I headed upslope and inland, away from Watermanse, I saw her still where I’d left her, watching us leave.
Being just me and Flint this time, the travel south went fast. We reached the ford and I scanned the ground around it carefully, trying to discern if anyone from Osterway might have crossed. All I could find were the huge bare footprints of the ogres, Lanni and Gurdon’s wheel-ruts, and the few prints Reyna and I had left. The only thing more recent were some hoofprints, probably from blackhorn, and the paw marks of a mid-sized hunting cat of some sort. That meant the Osterway forces were still east of this river, unless they’d gone a long way south to where I knew the next ford was, or built rafts, or swam. I doubted the last two, so we pushed on, mainly east, but angling south, until we reached another good vantage point. It wasn’t as high as the hill Reyna and I had used to spy on the invaders a few days back—I could see that one, in fact, a bump on the northeastern horizon—but it was good enough. Flint and I parked ourselves in a stand of elms on the crest and took in the landscape around us, taking a break while we did.
They were still split into two forces, I could see, from the pair of dust clouds they raised—one to the northeast, not far from that distant hill, and the other almost due south of us. Neither had progressed as far as I’d expected. It might have been because that river to the east, the one I’d assumed they’d reached the first time we saw them, held them up longer than I thought it would. It might also mean they just weren’t moving as fast as I’d feared. Both those things suggested large forces, though unwieldy and hard to get moving once they’d stopped. That was good in the short term; it bought us more time. But it was bad news in the end, because it meant their sheer weight of numbers might be a lot worse than I’d hoped.
Well, that was why Flint and I were out here—to whittle down those numbers some. I took some time to switch my attention back and forth between the two groups, studying them through the combined enhancements of my tech and Gurdon’s spyglass, which I’d borrowed. The southern force was clearly the smaller of the two, and it had pushed further east, so it was also the faster. The northern one actually posed the more immediate threat to Watermanse, but I finally settled on the southern one as our target. I assumed—or, again, maybe hoped was the better word—that they wouldn’t actually attack Watermanse until they could do it
with both forces, from different directions, so I’d have to trust that the northern one was still at least two or three days from assaulting the town. If we could slow the southern one, we’d add some time to that.
I glanced at Flint, lounging in the shade of an elm and panting. “What do you think, girl? Go south?”
I liked asking her opinion, but it was always pretty much the same—blink at me and wait for us to get moving again.
“Okay, south it is.”
We left our little hide on the hilltop and hurried downhill. There was another ridgeline between us and that southern force, and I wanted to reach it before dark. From there, we should be able to get our first direct look at our enemies and plan our way forward.
We actually ended up on that ridge a little way east of the Osterway force, meaning we were technically behind them. That worked in our favor, because they probably expected any threat to come from the west or north, their front and right flank respectively. As I braced myself against a poplar, I noted it also put the twilit western sky behind them, making it easier to see the smoke rising from their fires. But my tech layered on more information as I scanned the area where they’d camped near a bend in a placid stream. I could see what the dying daylight revealed, but I could also see the heat given off by men and fires, my tech merging it into a coherent picture of the distant camp. What it told me was I was still too far away to get details or formulate a plan. Still, I decided to wait, get some rest for both Flint and me, and close in with the pre-dawn chill, when sentries were at their least attentive, more interested in keeping warm than staying focused on the darkness around them.
I dozed, then woke with a couple of hours to go before first light. I shared some jerky, dried fish, and berries with Flint, then we set out, closing in on the Osterway camp from due east—the direction from which they’d probably least expect trouble. When we got close enough, I could see their fires through a stand of scraggly poplars and willows lining the stream, so we slowed right down. It was time for stealth, Flint and I each becoming a ghost, sliding silently from tree to bush, bush to hollow, hollow back to tree. I gave their camp a good study, trying to discern the location of sentries and their movements. From there, I assembled a picture in my mind of their layout, where we could best penetrate their perimeter, inflict damage, and get back out undetected. Ideally, they’d just find a sentry or two dead, throats cut or something similarly bloody and dramatic, and know that whoever did it could have done worse and was still out there.
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