Surrender to the Will of the Night (67 page)

“The same as you, Commander. Being seen by those who serve me.”

“That isn’t what I’m doing, Your Grace. I’m pretending to be a picket so the men coming up the hill think they have to trudge on a while yet before they make contact.”

“Then I apologize for destroying that illusion. Nevertheless, I insist on a more respectful attitude.”

He was set to explode. He did not need vultures perched on his shoulders, muttering in his ears. But, out of Katrin’s view, Captain Ephrian shook his head desperately, warning him not to make a scene. Hecht took a deep breath, said, “As you will, Your Grace.”

“Yes. Always. Do not forget that. Who is this man in brown? I don’t recall having seen him before.”

“An agent. I’ve known him for several years. He’s reliable.”

Februaren chuckled. And would not keep his mouth shut. “An agent of the Night. Piper. Pay attention. It’s time.”

Correct. The men would be getting nervous. “Hand me that slow match there.”

Februaren did so, then took a step backward. Then took another. And a third at the moment when Hecht applied the match to the firework Kait Rhuk had fashioned.

A dozen balls of fire leapt fifty feet into the air over a meadow filled with floundering men cursing water and mud.

One hundred forty-six hidden firepowder weapons — including every last piece taken from Krulik and Sneigon — spoke during the next dozen seconds, each hurling six or more pounds of loam and stones.

Everything out front vanished in the smoke. There was no telling the effect of the salvo. It did have one. The mob did not emerge from the smoke.

That, initially dense enough to harm lungs, drifted westward, off the meadow and down the slope of the Shades.

Now Hecht needed his men to execute their orders without flaw. The men had to form crews at previously designated weapons while the enemy was stunned. They had to reload those and fire at the biggest enemy group they saw. No defense other than the falcons would be deployed.

The auxiliaries from Vis Corcula were supposed to drag any idled weapons to positions farther back.

The smoke thinned, unveiling the nearer meadow.

Hecht was horrified.

No sounds came from down there … He heard nothing because of the violence done his ears by all those explosions. There had to be a lot of screaming out there.

The smoke continued to drift and disperse.

Serenity’s men had stopped moving.

Hecht heard the dull ghost of a falcon’s bark. Somebody thought he saw something worth a shot.

Hecht said, “This is where the smoke could be a huge problem.” He got no response. Cloven Februaren had disappeared. He wished that Katrin had done the same.

The enemy resumed his advance.

A falcon bellowed. Another followed. Then another. Then one blew up. Hecht could make out the screams that followed.

The wind picked up and shifted as much as the terrain allowed, a couple points to the north. That pushed the smoke out of the way a little faster.

Soon the people down the hill stopped slogging listlessly into the kill zone.

The smoke cleared entirely, betraying the full horror. Using Katrin’s lifeguards as messengers, Hecht nagged his officers to get the falcons repositioned, reloaded, and retrained. As many as time allowed.

The Empress said nothing and did not overrule his use of her companions. Captain Ephrian was not pleased but kept his peace.

Katrin spoke only after full use of her hearing returned. She did not say a lot, though, and Hecht ignored her as much as he dared. He hoped none of the enemy recognized her. But, so long as she insisted on being on the battlefield, he hoped her presence stiffened the resolve of the Righteous.

The work of the falcons was gut-wrenching awful but no victory had been won. The attackers, if not overawed and intimidated early, would realize the weapons took a long time to recharge. And only few could be kept in action after the initial salvo.

On reflection, though, he decided the enemy would have to know as much about firepowder weapons as he did to understand how vulnerable he really was.

Silence again. The only smoke visible was way off down the slope, nearing the plain. Hecht looked for signs of Sedlakova’s presence down there, saw nothing.

“How many casualties out there?” Katrin asked. “A thousand?”

“Or more.” Most not yet dead. The least badly hurt trying to help other survivors. The standing water now red. And Hecht suspecting that many of the dead might have drowned.

Signals and messengers informed him as each battery came ready for action.

Downhill, out of range, men roamed about helping the injured, peering and pointing, often obviously arguing. Serenity’s captains trying to decide what to do next, unaware that each minute granted the Righteous would make their next surge that much more deadly.

Hecht considered the higher hills to either hand. Not terribly difficult ground if the enemy wanted to try going around.

Small groups of recently arrived Imperials were out there. He would be warned if Serenity’s captains did try the harder going.

The officers down there were no more eager than their men. Only after a full hour did they launch another mass charge, straight ahead.

This attack involved more men. So many they kept tripping over one another. Not to mention the dead and wounded.

Some nervous fool could not wait. He touched match to touchhole.

One premature discharge led to a score, then to all the rest, raggedly. Men went down like wheat blown over in a high wind.

The smoke closed in. That was worse this time. The air was almost still.

Hecht saw shapes moving through the smoke. Big shapes. Shapes not human. What were they? Illusions? He could not tell if there was sound associated with them. His hearing was gone again.

A lesson that should have been learned long since. Men around falcons needed to protect their ears.

He withdrew upslope a short distance, then crossed to a vantage he hoped would offer a better view beyond the smoke. He noticed that the men did have their ears protected. So it was just him.

The Empress followed. She had been jabbering for some time and he had not heard a word.

She and her lifeguards had protected their ears, too, with pieces of cloth.

The falcons designated to stay in action after the initial salvo did so, blindly — with little likelihood of failing to hit something. They had been laid according to patterns designed by Kait Rhuk and Drago Prosek. Their stone storm should sweep the meadow regularly, invisible or not.

A few men did stagger out of the smoke, glazed and watery of eye, driven by inertia.

Hecht did hear the Empress say, “I thought more of them would get through.”

He said, “I did, too. And they may still. There could be thousands in that smoke, still.” The big shapes were not there anymore.

There might be thousands in the smoke but only dozens emerged. Dully. Numbly. Ineffective except where they forced a falcon crew to stop work while they defended themselves.

That was what Hecht had feared from the moment he chose to make this stand. Each time a weapon fell out of the firing rotation more of Serenity’s men would get through. And that was the way it went, till many of the Righteous could not work their falcons. Though some never ceased firing and others came back quickly after handling a local threat.

The air began to move again. The smoke began to thin. That let falcon crews sight their weapons on the biggest clumps of men moving up.

The carnage was beyond anything Hecht imagined beforehand. It was beyond what Prosek and Rhuk had imagined, and those two always produced grim forecasts. The meadow had vanished under heaped bodies. Attackers had to clamber over and around the dead and dying, whose bodies continued to be torn by stone shot.

The breeze turned brisk enough to clear all but the freshest smoke. The attackers came on in tens, now, instead of hundreds.

Katrin demanded, “Why aren’t there more of them? They almost had us.”

“I don’t know, Your Grace.” Hecht was more interested in finding out what those shapes in the smoke had done. He saw nothing. “It might be Sedlakova’s fault.”

“Sedlakova?”

“The one-armed man. Running my cavalry.”

“I know who he is. What is he doing that might affect what happens here?”

“He’s supposed to be down there attacking their camp.”

“With fifty riders?”

Hecht spread his hands. “If he gets a chance to cause major misery.”

The Ninth Unknown might have done something distracting, too.

Hecht would not admit it but he had bet everything that his first salvo would panic the enemy.

That did not happen. They took incredible casualties and kept coming. And more were on their way.

The fighting fell off but continued. Prince Onofrio’s men, tasked with moving the idle falcons, did not do so with any alacrity. Some, with the weapons, got overrun.

“There’s something wrong, Commander of the Righteous.”

“They’re dogging it. They want to get caught. With my weapons. This isn’t going well, Your Grace. Leave before it starts again.”

The Empress snapped, “I don’t mean the Prince’s men. I mean Serenity’s. Look at them. Something’s been done to them. They wouldn’t keep coming, otherwise.”

She was right. They kept coming despite blasts that knocked them down twenty at a time. “Captain Ephrian. Might I borrow some men for messengers?” He had kept no one with him. He had foreseen no need to pull strings once the engagement began.

Ephrian glanced at Katrin. She offered a barely perceptible nod.

Hecht said, “Captain, I fear this won’t go as well next rush. Please move Her Highness to safety.” Looking Katrin in the eye. “She may not like it but she’ll be alive to punish me later.”

Ephrian flashed a nervous grin. Katrin flashed anger. Hecht gathered in the two men the captain volunteered. “I need you to run out to where the tripwire forces are hidden. One each way.”

“Those Imperials?”

“Correct. You know where they’re supposed to be. And what the hell is that?”

A roiling cloud of smoke rose over the distant enemy camp.

“Sir?”

“Right there! Oh. I see. So. Go. One to Consent, one to Vircondelet. Tell them I want them to swing in and hit these people from the sides. Downhill, out of falcon range, and don’t try to win the war in one skirmish. Just hit them, confuse them, panic them if possible, then get the hell out. This is just an experiment to test Her Grace’s hypothesis about them being englamoured. Plus, I want the distraction. Afterward, catch up with Captain Ephrian and the Empress.”

“Sir. Yes, sir.”

“Follow her for as long as it takes. All the way back to the coast if you have to. This could turn real bad.” He suspected a third and bigger wave was forming up out of sight. The dribble still coming was challenge enough.

“Yes, sir.” They split up and left. Katrin had gone with Captain Ephrian but was not happy about it.

Hecht wondered how Helspeth would have behaved in similar circumstances. He thought her sense of duty would have kept her away. She was not as self-indulgent or impulsive as Katrin.

***

The englamoured or drunken soldiers kept pushing closer despite inspired work by Rhuk and Prosek. Hecht guessed five thousand dead and dying men littered the meadow. More lay scattered right up to and past his own position. The nearby dead included half of Prince Onofrio’s treacherous levy.

The attackers treated Onofrio’s men as they did the Righteous. They would hear no claims of friendship. Hecht thought they might not hear at all.

Vircondelet and Consent launched the attacks Hecht had ordered, uncoordinated, like mosquitoes assaulting an elephant.

They hit the gathering mass Hecht had anticipated, doing much more damage than their numbers promised. The Patriarchals were slow to respond. Their focus was straight ahead.

Titus Consent hit first, from the north. He was in full flight when Rivademar Vircondelet struck from the south.

The spoiling raid delayed the third wave just when the fighting above the meadow had most of the Righteous engaged hand-to-hand.

Hecht personally fended off two attackers. One he thought he remembered from the fighting against the Calziran pirates. The man did not recognize him. He, his companion, and the rest of the attackers moved slowly, as though part of some army of the dead.

Hecht had seen, smelled, and fought exactly that at al-Khazen. This did bear the stamp of the Night but was not the same.

Deeper analysis would have to wait.

Only a score of falcons still barked regularly. Twice in rapid succession, then a third time, Hecht heard weapons explode. Heard falcon crews scream. Caught whiffs of burnt flesh. And thought Krulik and Sneigon might not be totally clever after all.

The lessened rate of fire was more than matched by a lessened flow of attackers. The assault finally high-watered, then receded.

Titus Consent arrived, so far out of breath that he could do nothing but suck air for half a minute.

Once he had breath enough to dare, he puked. Done with that, he gasped, “They’re trying to come around our flanks, now, boss. They’re like the undead, or something. I can’t stop them all.”

A falcon exploded just twenty yards away. Iron shrapnel took the feather off Consent’s helmet. “God just busted me back to the ranks.”

“No. He just showed you He loves you enough to make that miss. Here we go again.”

Another cloud climbed the air over the enemy camp, way down at the bottom of the slope. “Think that’s Clej?”

“About time.”

Could not be Sedlakova, though. He and his horsemen were barely strong enough to mount a harassment. There was no evidence that they had done any harassing. Nor had they taken explosives with them.

A half minute later something changed.

Hecht watched it come, a wave racing its way through those Patriarchals he could see. He felt it himself but the impact was slight and without personal meaning.

It meant everything to the attackers.

The assault collapsed instantly.

Serenity’s troops stood around stupidly gathering their thoughts. But the falcons continued to talk.