Steamsworn (Steamborn Series Book 3) (34 page)

“You could have exiled them.”

“Exiled people can
fight
, Benedict.”

“You’re a fool, Newton. You made one mistake this night, for you
did
send out the city knights.”

“What?” the Butcher snapped.

“I handed down the orders when the first bombs struck. It’s just me and your personal guard now.”

“You ungrateful worm!”

The Butcher roared and something heavy slammed against stone on the other side of the door. A boom echoed through the halls of the Castle when another bomb detonated outside its walls.

Alice tugged on Jacob’s sleeve. She pointed back to the hall and then pointed at his chest and to the door. She made a fist and acted like she was pounding on the door, and then she was gone.

He understood what she was doing. She’d pound on the entrance to the throne room, and that would be the distraction he’d need to slip inside. He pulled the air cannon off his back. He’d primed it earlier.

Three heavy knocks echoed around the hall and through the door, and then again.

Jacob grabbed the door handle and his breath grew heavy. Three more knocks. He clicked the latch before the knocking stopped, and then he threw the door open.

T
he cold metal
leeched the heat from Samuel’s fingers. He watched the pair of Spider Knights running along the roofs of the ravaged Lowlands, and raised the whistle to his lips. Three notes in a rising crescendo, and three notes descending. A quick arpeggio caused one of the spiders to freeze, and Samuel smiled.

He repeated the tune again, and the spider reared back, sending her knight flailing into the air. His armored form slammed into the tiled roof and he scrabbled to catch a handhold on the slope. The spider charged, leaping from roof to roof until she finally rocketed toward the ground, sending up a cloud of dust and stone.

Bessie almost ran Samuel down when she reached him, smashing her face into the Spider Knight’s chest and unleashing a high-pitched chitter. She turned around and lowered herself to the ground. Samuel hopped into the saddle. It wasn’t a good saddle for Bessie. It cut into two of her legs a bit, and that wouldn’t do for a long ride. He’d have to get her patched up after the battle.

“Halt!”

There was no mistaking that voice. It was enough to make Samuel nervous, but he’d also been hoping for it.

“Who are you? So bold as to assault a Spider Knight?”

Samuel urged Bessie to turn around, and she did, moving in that all-too-familiar stutter-step motion. He scratched the finer hair behind her eyes before coaxing the halberd free of its saddle sheath. Samuel hefted it in his grasp. It felt good. It felt right.

“Hello, Captain.”

The look on his Captain’s face was the best thing he’d seen all day. “Samuel? I thought … we all thought you were dead.”

Samuel shook his head. “Do you stand with the Butcher?”

The Captain’s face fell. “I didn’t believe that rumor when I first heard, but now … That madman murdered our King.”

“It’s worse than you know. He’s allied with Fel and Ballern.”

“Ballern?”

Samuel nodded. “Bollwerk and Belldorn are engaged with Fel and Ballern as we speak. Archibald freed Dauschen. Charles died fighting the Butcher’s schemes. Did you know that?”

“No. I’m sorry. I know he … I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Will you fight with the resistance?” Samuel asked.

“I’d be better off ordering the Spider Knights to throw themselves from the walls, and then joining them. The Butcher has a detachment of almost fifty knights loyal to him.”

“Mercenaries?”

The Captain let out a humorless laugh. “You’re sharp kid. I’ll give you that.” He looked up at the moonlit sky and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if we can win.”

“Win or not, we’re not running from this fight. Look behind you.”

The Captain slowly turned his mount.

The resistance stood behind him, covered in old, rusted armor and wielding every weapon Bat had been able to scrape together. Some bore only swords, while others held crossbows or bolt guns, and a few had small air cannons.

One boy stood at the front of the line of resistance fighters in the alley. His name was Reggie. Samuel didn’t know him, not really, but the boy had no love for the Butcher and some kindred friendship with Jacob.

“Cage, the leader of Dauschen’s resistance, should be on the other side of the city by now,” Samuel said as he watched the Captain. “Once he gives us the signal, Drakkar—a Cave Guardian no less—is in position to blow the gates.”

“What signal?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

The captain eyed Samuel for a moment before nodding. He pulled a bronze whistle out from a deep pouch hanging on the outside of his silver-armored thigh.

“Are you calling them to join us, or to fight us?”

The captain gave Samuel a stern look. “Did you know they killed my boy?”

“What?” Samuel hissed. “Why are you still here?”

“He wasn’t my only family. I have no loyalty to these people. None of the Spider Knights are happy with what’s happened here, Samuel. I’m calling them to choose for themselves.” He blew on the whistle, three notes repeated in the same pattern. The same phrase echoed out over the Lowlands from half a dozen different positions, and the captain nodded.

“Who did Bessie throw off?” Samuel asked.

“One of the mercenaries,” the Captain said. “Sadly, my halberd fell on top of him when I was trying to help him up.”

Samuel nodded. “I wondered what took you so long to follow Bessie.”

“Alright,” the Captain said. “I’ll circle back to the other Spider Knights. I doubt they’ll come into the open here, but you’ll have allies, Samuel, I’ve no doubt of that. We’ll watch for the gates to fall, and those that wish to will join you on the inside.” He gave Samuel a sharp nod and then urged his Jumper to the west.

“That was the Captain of the Spider Knights,” Reggie said. “He’s going to help?”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “There’s no stopping us now.”

Reggie’s posture straightened slightly. Samuel was glad the presence of the Captain filled the kid with more confidence, but Samuel knew there were no guarantees. Spider Knights weren’t the immortal warriors so many seemed to think they were, but he choked that down. There was no reason to remind these people what was at stake, or how likely they were to die.

The earth shook and the sky turned orange. A fireball the size of a watchtower billowed up from behind the wall. The sound was a boom like that of a thousand cannon shots.

“That’s it,” Samuel shouted. “We move!”

The resistance started toward the wall in a loose march. They hadn’t gone far when another blast tore through the chilly night air. The western gate squealed as it tore from the wall, slamming into Lowland ruins outside.

“For Ancora!” Reggie shouted as he ran past Samuel.

Goosebumps and adrenaline rushed through Samuel’s body, and he urged Bessie to speed, passing the resistance and all their battle cries. Two shadows shot through the gates ahead of him. Two Spider Knights. The Captain worked fast.

Samuel’s strategy had seemed half insane when he’d first said it aloud, but it was working. The knights tried to run back to the gate from wherever they’d been posted. No one expected the voices they’d heard from below the streets to come in through the front door.

Samuel’s halberd took the first knight in the chest, punching clean through the mercenary’s leather armor. Stealing a knight’s helmet and greaves … it made him sick to see the cannibalized armor of his brethren draped across mercenaries. The blade drew blood and viscera when he ripped it from the man’s chest.

In the distance another boom rattled the city and sent flames and debris rocketing into the air. More mercenaries poured into the square. When they saw what was storming through the gates—Spider Knights and resistance fighters from the very people they’d been abusing—many fled.

Drakkar sprinted past Bessie from wherever he’d triggered the charges, his sword snapping violently out to the side in audible clicks. A mercenary met him head-on, dressed head to toe like a city knight. He even moved like a city knight. It was then that Samuel realized not all of the mercenaries were mercenaries. Some were knights, bought in whole by a madman.

“We’ve come for the Butcher!” someone shouted behind Samuel. “Join us!”

Another explosion rattled his senses. Samuel hoped Cage had stuck with the plan and only targeted the military installations. It would be a hard thing to convince a people to ally with them if they destroyed their homes and families.

“Protect the people!” Samuel shouted. He’d seen what soldiers could become in the heat of battle.

One of the more lightly armored mercenaries managed to close in on Bessie. He lunged at the spider, but she reared away from the sword and brought her fangs down into the man’s neck. He’d be dead in moments. Samuel didn’t wait. He slammed his halberd through the mercenary’s skull with a crack.

Drakkar whirled and met another sword strike from his opponent. The rebound left the woman exposed, and he ran her through, taking her in the heart. The mercenary had a look of confusion on her face before she collapsed and Drakkar moved to the next target.

Samuel caught a glimpse of Cage and his men across the square. Cage moved like death. He fought in broad, graceful strokes that left nothing but corpses behind. The rest of his men cleaned up the mess.

“Samuel!”

He brought his attention back to the crowd in front of him in time to see the spear hurtling toward his chest. He braced for the impact, but it never came. Bessie’s leg shot up into the air and took the blow. Samuel barely locked in his grip before the spider screamed and charged the man who’d injured her. Spear or no spear, she ran him down.

The knight tried to run, diving into a small alley, but Bessie crouched and then exploded forward. Samuel could do nothing but hold on to the saddle with all his might, bracing the halberd between his chest and the spider. Samuel grunted as the brutal impact slammed his face into Bessie’s saddle. The spider screamed as she bit through the knight’s armor over and over and over. When she pulled away, only a bloody mangle of metal remained.

Samuel patted her head and urged her out of the alley. It was too tight a space for her to be effective. The spear in her leg shattered against the stone wall. Enough of it remained to staunch the bleeding, but it was going to need attention soon.

Samuel turned and stared in awe and horror at the scene laid out before them. Reggie stood at the edge of the alley, firing crossbow bolts at a squadron of knights. The armored men shuffled forward in a tight, shielded formation. Samuel knew it as one of Fel’s formations.

The knights cut down fleeing citizens and resistance fighters alike. A bloody trail of dead piled up along their path. They held one Spider Knight at bay until Drakkar’s cloaked form dashed out of another alley and shouted, “Fall back!”

The Spider Knight didn’t so much as hesitate, and when the mount spun in his direction, Samuel realized it was the captain. They’d already swept back around to rejoin the resistance.

Drakkar’s cloak billowed out and he raised his arms. He slammed a glowing ball into a larger shell and roared, “A gift from Charles von Atlier for the kingdom of Fel!”

The ball vanished into the cluster of knights. They couldn’t have known what it was. They didn’t even try to run. The concussion shook Samuel’s head and sent four of the knights into the air. The white-hot fireball consumed the rest in screams and terror cut short by a pillar of flame.

When the worst of the fire receded, Drakkar walked into the charred ruin of bodies. Anything that moved, he ran through with his sword. That’s when Samuel noticed the people standing in doorways and peeking out of windows behind drawn shades.

A woman inched her way out of the shadows of one of the hospitals. Samuel watched her and those around her. No one seemed to be fighting anymore. The mercenaries had all run or lay dead on the ground. They were likely regrouping, but for now at least twelve of them were finished.

“What can we do to help?”

Samuel frowned. “What?”

She wore a dress that had once been white, but now it shone with rusted stains. She straightened her back and repeated herself. “What can we do to help?”

Samuel hadn’t expected that. He didn’t think the Highlanders would join their cause. He thought they would have stayed inside and waited for the danger to pass, let the poor and less fortunate die in their stead. But this woman, and the man walking up behind her, and the stodgy old banker making his way out into the streets …

“Help the wounded,” Samuel said. “If you have weapons, keep them at the ready. The Butcher’s mercenaries could be back at any time, and if they find you helping the enemy, they won’t take kindly to it.”

Samuel urged Bessie forward and glanced back to Reggie and the other resistance fighters. He raised his fist into the air and shouted, “To the Castle!”

J
acob had been
ready to take on half a squadron of guards with the air cannon and bolt gun. Only one man sat in the throne room, on a golden seat raised on a low podium. He was older than Jacob expected, muscled and fit, but nearly as old as Charles had been, his hair streaked with blacks and grays. The man wore a breathing apparatus, all polished bronze and silver.

Benedict’s body lay broken on the floor.

Jacob leveled the air cannon. “Newton. Victor. Burns.”

The Butcher’s eyes were cold, and his face stone, staring down the barrel of Jacob’s cannon without flinching. “Who are you?”

“Jacob Anders. You wanted my hands.”

The man let out a slow laugh. He lifted the breathing mask as his face curled up into an awful smirk. “Atlier’s apprentice. You brought the base down in Dauschen. I have followed your story on Archibald’s transmissions. I was much like you in my youth, but you are on the wrong side. I wish to raise Ancora from the plague of invaders and rid it of its weaknesses.”

“Ancora defined by its people, and you’re destroying it,” Jacob said as he paced slowly to the front of the throne, carefully avoiding Benedict’s body.