Antioch Burns (7 page)

With the departure of the governor, almost three fourths of the courtiers left as well, scrambling out of the main doors or down side passages. Many of the remained had the grizzled look of veteran soldiers. The rest were young and eager looking, as though relishing the fighting to come.

“Very well, Legate General Regillus. What do you need from us?”

The pounding booms
ceaselessly assaulted Regillus’ ears.
It seems the Mongols have learned something in the last few years, besides those anti-airship missiles
. The squat tubes of metal sat beyond bowshot, even beyond range of their strongest
repeaters
and scorpions, and threw balls of heavy metal or rock into the curtain wall. The few remaining Roman engineers were desperately studying the Mongol weapons from afar, but were unable to learn much. The Mongols had hidden each weapon behind wicker screens to confuddle their Roman opponents.

I suppose we could sally against them, but we would be cut to pieces by that massed archery of theirs before we could even get within range
. Another blast sent a shower of shattered masonry into the air about a hundred feet away. Regillus involuntarily ducked. He cursed.

“Are you sure we do not have anything that can reach those things, Janisal?”

His chief engineer winced at the anger in the words, but shook his head.

“Not that I know of, sir, especially now that our airships are gone. I would bet that some canisters of Greek fire would knock them out for a while, and probably blow up the gunpowder they are using to fire those things.” The older man spread his arms apologetically. “They’ve got them hidden and protected, they outrange us, and they seem to be accursedly good at targeting our own artillery all along the wall.”

“Well at this rate, we will not have much of a wall left to defend by the end of today.” The Mongolian artillery was focusing on a stretch of defensive works close to the river, slamming into one of the oldest stretches of wall. The ancient stonework was no match for the heavy hitting projectiles. With each fusillade of fire came a cascading torrent of crumbling mortar and stones.

“Why not just use the
skimmers
?” came a familiar voice.

“Ah! Engineer Monventus, glad to see you have not fled the city.” The other man shrugged.

“There were no more airships out, and the last train left at midnight, hoping to avoid Mongol patrols to the south. I figured that I could test some new weapon ideas I have been working on while we were under siege.”

Regillus looked at him, unable to keep his jaw from dropping. The engineer was risking his life to test inventions? In a
warzone
? Janisal spoke up.

“You must be a bit wrong in the head to want to stay here,” he said in disbelief.

“Nonsense, I am simply a pragmatist. I could not get away, so I might as well be useful. Did you hear my recommendation earlier?” he asked, obviously moving beyond the question of his sanity. “I said we should use
skimmers
to knock out their artillery.”

“Our
skimmers
are not equipped with weapons!” Janisal complained. “They are too light to carry any containers of Greek fire.”

“Then let us equip them with gunpowder instead! Cut a hole in the bottom and give each man a few of those
pila
warheads your legionnaires are so fond of using.” Monventus would not back down. The other man immediately began to argue. Regillus held his hand up.

“Stop!” His command was punctuated by another thundering explosion.

“If it is possible, do it. We have nothing else to lose. The walls can’t take this beating much longer.”

Monventus nodded, a smug look on his face. Janisal shook his head.

“As you wish, sir.”

Mere hours later, Regillus stood at the same tower, spyglass in hand as he watched Antioch’s only remaining air assets launch into the air from the central airfield. The sputtering sound of their propellers was barely audible over the crash and boom of the siege. Five of the wood and glass constructs moved into a v-formation and angled their way north.
The perfect angle for an attack run
. Regillus extended the spyglass and trained it onto the
skimmers
. He could see crude struts welded to the wings, each skimmer carrying half a dozen small metal canisters along each wing.

I hope Monventus’ idea works
.
If it does, I think Roman ingenuity just granted our empire another reprieve
. The skimmers moved into a ragged line, their wooden wings shaking under the additional weight. Regillus turned to watch the Mongolian siege lines.
We have to destroy those cannons!
The term had been coined by some of the legionnaires manning the tower, and the name had stuck.
May as well call it what it is - a large, metal tube.
He could already see movement as the Mongolians wheeled some of their missile carts into position. The officer said a hasty prayer as the first rocket shot up from the ground, shooting right past the
skimmers
to explode harmlessly further up.

“Yes! They are too low to the ground for the rockets to hit!” Other men manning the tower cheered as well, as the first skimmer flew in low to drop its payload of warheads. The small explosives looked like black snow tinkling to the ground. The brave pilot was rewarded with a series of ragged explosions right behind the defensive earthworks. Regillus even saw one of the cannon tubes tumble up into the air, somersaulting over the dirt rampart to land amongst the remains of dead Romans and Mongolians in the no-man's land close to the wall. The cheering increased as another skimmer zeroed in on the defensive line further down, dodging rocket fire as it descended.

By now, the Mongols had taken up their famous horsebows as well, and were launching a stream of arrows into the air. Several pierced the cabin of the skimmer, and the flyer wobbled for a moment.

“Oh no…,” Regillus said. “Pull up, pilot!” The skimmer went into a nosedive, slamming into the ground at full speed. The resulting explosion tore another chunk of Mongolian siege works to shreds, sending men, equipment, and animals flying into the air. Several secondary explosions said the dying pilot had managed to hit some sort of ammunition train as well, as fire took hold behind the enemy lines.
My gods…
Regillus was shocked at the fiery demise of the skimmer pilot
. That was a child.
It was only with the loss of the flyer that Regillus had remembered that
skimmers
were flown by children no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, as they were the only ones light enough to fly such flimsy contraptions.

I just sent someone’s child to their death
. He felt his throat clench. The officer forced himself to watch as the next three
skimmers
made their attack runs as well, their explosions seemingly small in comparison to that other fiery crash. Finding himself unexpectedly grieving, Regillus turned his back after the last one circled up and away, towards the safety of the city. The Mongolian siege lines were in disarray, but at least some of the cannons had survived, as one fired defiantly out from a smoldering section of breastworks.

It was a good try, but am I willing to send those children into battle again?

He clambered down through the trap door, into the tower room below. Men at the arrow slits waved to him, and he put on a brave face, giving an encouraging word here and there.

Antioch must hold. The city is my charge now, and those children… no, better to think of them as soldiers… will die if the Mongols sack the city. Same as these soldiers in here.

Antioch cannot fall.

He fled the tower room, taking the steps two at a time. He had to get away, away from the weight of responsibility threatening to break him.
Panic
.

Regillus tripped and stumbled into a small alcove. In the darkness, he had a moment to recover. Several deep breaths later, he felt better.
I must be strong, for me, for my men, for my family
. The weight on his shoulders had somehow shifted, becoming a familiar burden. Gathering himself, he took a steadying swig from his canteen.
At least my hands are not shaking,
he thought with a grin. Feeling better, he exited the tower, walking toward his small command party and couriers that awaited him.

“Get a message off to the airfield. Tell Engineer Monventus that he must rearm the
skimmers
and send them back out. Those things were deadly against the enemy artillery, and we must prevent the Mongols from breaching the city walls.” One of the armored couriers saluted, fist to mailed chest, and galloped away. Regillus turned back to mount his horse.

And then the wall collapsed inwards, sending huge stone projectiles into the city.

The force blew out windows and crushed buildings. The horses bolted in all directions, one unlucky rider having the terrified beast collapse upon him as it tripped over a fallen beam.

A roar from outside the city could be heard as the last of the wall fragments came clattering down. In a daze, Regillus pushed himself up, vision blurry from the smoke and dust in his eyes.
I thought we had destroyed most of those cannons!
He manhandled another dazed messenger to his feet.

“Make your way south along the wall! I want every other man here at the breach. Everyone else is to fall back to the citadel. Do you understand?” The man blinked groggily. Regillus shook him a few more times, and the man’s gaze locked onto his commanding officer. The officer repeated his orders, and the man nodded. With no horses around, he took off running through the streets. Another man he sent towards the nearest telegraph station, with orders to spread the same message to every station in the city.

I do not think they were ready for such a quick breach, thank the gods.
Regillus prayed for small miracles.
Of course, we will all be dead inside the day.
Once a city wall was breached, the defenders traditionally surrendered, understanding that the enemy could attack at will and grind down the defenders through a war of attrition.

“Sir! Thank the gods you’re alive!” His voice dripping with relief, a sub-altern was picking his way through the debris, a mixed squad of legionnaires and garrison troopers following, scouring the wreckage for survivors.

Regillus coughed, then spat. He had to rally the men before the situation was lost.

“Yes, and we have got a breach to defend. We need to get up there and start building a barricade. More legionnaires will be joining us, but for now it is just us. We will make the Mongols bleed for every inch of ground!”

The men around him gave a strangled cheer. They moved at a half jog towards the breach. Regillus turned for a moment, unsure of what to do. Until sufficient reinforcements had arrived, all he had on hand were the shell-shocked troops who had survived the blast and the small band of reinforcements that had just arrived. At that moment, a flash of red caught his attention.

He reached down and tugged. From beneath a layer of fine dust and small stones came a ragged Roman standard. It had been blown from the wall by the force of the explosion. Spying a shattered spar nearby, Regillus scooped it up, combining spar and standard to create a makeshift flag. Carrying the flag up towards the breach, Regillus collected a few more dazed defenders, urging them to join him in defending the breach. As he clambered up the rocky, shifting slope, Regillus heard his name shouted from the wall.

“Commander! Sir!”

“
Decanus
Tito! What happened?”

“They have a bigger cannon further out. We did not notice it because it was hidden by those gods-damned screens.” The older man called back. Regillus cursed.
We figure out a way to kill their cannon, they figure out a way to strike us from even further away
.

“Send me every legionnaire you have without a repeater. The Mongols will not bother to attack elsewhere, now that they have a breach.” The man’s head disappeared over the broken parapet. A few minutes later, another two-dozen defenders joined the makeshift force. A ragged line was forming across the breach. Red-tuniced Syrian legionnaires piled stone next to yellow-tuniced garrison troops, hastily assembling a defensive barricade.

“Build it nice and high, men!” Now the engineering expertise of the Roman forces was revealed. In less than an hour, the legionnaires had managed to span the two hundred foot gap in the wall with a new stone barricade, complete with a rough parapet and shielded walkway. Planting his makeshift flag at the center of the lines, Regillus looked over his fellow defenders. By this time, the defensive forces assembled at the breach numbered over 2,000 men. Regillus divided them into
cohorts
in preparation for the Mongol attack.

He did not have long to wait. Spying movement behind the enemy lines, Regillus pulled out a borrowed pair of binoculars and pressed them to his face. His vision zoomed forward, in time to see the wicker screens pushed forward. An unbroken mass of Mongol infantry marched in line towards the vulnerable hole in Antioch’s defenses. Rhythmic pounding reached his ears as he lowered the binoculars.