Master of furies, p.38
Master of Furies, page 38
Sixto said, ‘I expected we’d be dodging arrows at least by now.’
‘No sentries?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Too many years of absolute security,’ said Declan. ‘It simply didn’t occur to them they might be attacked here.’
A few local residents began to appear in the streets, but most took one look at the assembled army and raced back inside their homes and slammed their doors.
‘We’ve got a few more minutes, then I think it’s going to turn nasty here,’ said Sixto.
Declan nodded and turned to face his men. Half his force was still aboard the ship, ready to fall into line behind those already on the quay.
‘Get ready!’ he commanded, and swords were drawn, and bows nocked with arrows.
Declan glanced to where the king was organizing his forces and saw that almost every mount was off the ship and had a rider in the saddle.
A squad of Azhante guards appeared, running towards them from the street Declan had been told was the main approach to the Pride Lords’ palace.
Hava had stressed many times that the first thing he needed to do when facing Azhante was to shout. So in his loudest voice he cried, ‘Coaltachin!’
Two of the Azhante drew their swords and died before they reached the first line of soldiers from a fusillade of arrows shot from the deck of the ship. The other four stood paralysed by uncertainty. The next phrase he and the others had been drilled in was, ‘Join us or get out of the way!’
The four Azhante exchanged glances, and one ran off, but the others stripped off their black tunics and head covers and moved to where Declan pointed with his sword. He saw immediately that these three young men were more than ready to fight.
‘If it all goes this well, we can have our midday meal from up there,’ said Sixto, pointing at the hilltop that was their destination.
‘I wouldn’t count on that,’ said Declan.
Suddenly, the king rode up to him, pointed up the main street, and shouted, ‘Follow us!’
The sound of four hundred horses’ iron-shod hooves pounding the cobbles shattered the early morning calm and echoed through the lower city. Doors and windows were opened then quickly shut as the cavalry passed by.
As soon as the last horse turned, Declan shouted, ‘Ready!’
Not only his men but the king’s specially trained soldiers stood poised to move. Working from Red Sweeney’s memory of this city, passed on by Hava, Daylon split his forces into two flanking groups, as he and Declan had agreed that the mercenaries would serve better if they were unburdened by too many instructions. The flanking units would come up two other large streets, one on each side of the main street, then if they were blocked they were to move in behind Declan’s forces.
Declan waved his sword in a circular motion and shouted, ‘Forward!’
He and Sixto set out at a quick jog, since charging uphill was not a practical decision over a long distance and given that the balance of Declan’s forces was still on the ship, he did not want to leave them strung out behind in a long line. That plan had been developed because they had expected resistance from the docks, but so far only the one squad of Azhante had appeared.
That changed quickly once they reached the first cross-street. Arrows came flying down from above, and Declan leapt close to the wall on his left. He glanced upwards but saw nothing.
The buildings this close to the harbour were all shops and residences, with warehouses sprinkled in between, but there were larger buildings farther up the hill. Declan shouted to Sixto, who was hunkered down across the street, ‘Can you see where they’re coming from?’
Sixto raised his sword and pointed up and back. ‘Somewhere over there.’
A few more arrows arced down, and Declan saw that Sixto was right. Archers on a rooftop the next street over were blindly shooting in the hope of hitting one of the invaders. He judged it more of a nuisance than a serious threat. Still, a lucky arrow could kill a man just as dead as a targeted one.
‘The king’s men need to get someone up on the roof!’ shouted Declan. He glanced back and saw that his forces were piling up behind him.
‘Maybe nobody is shooting at them?’
Declan found this almost amusing. He waited and then another flight of five arrows came down, one striking the wooden shutter of the window under which he crouched. He motioned for the men nearest him to race across the street and wait on the other side. He counted and held up his hand, stopping the men, and more arrows landed. He heard one of his men shout in pain, then curse loudly. From that he judged at least the man wasn’t dead.
After the next flight of arrows, more men crossed the intersection and Declan sprinted to Sixto’s side. ‘Help me up,’ said Declan.
‘Onto the roof?’
Declan nodded.
‘Are you mad?’
‘Probably. Wait for the next volley.’
As soon as the arrows struck, Declan stood and signalled for the men to charge up the street after the cavalry. With only five or six archers above them, most of the men would make it past this intersection safely, but Declan wasn’t going to leave them behind his forces. Half a dozen archers standing on rooftops with quivers full of shafts could kill a fair number of men.
Declan heard arrows striking and a couple of curses, then he nodded to Sixto who gave him a boost up to where Declan could grab the eaves and pull himself up onto the roof. He rolled flat, looking to see if he could spot the archers, saw nothing, then turned and dropped his hand to Sixto.
As he had expected, his second in command was ready to jump and grab his arm. In a few seconds, Sixto lay on the roof next to him. Declan asked, ‘Spot them?’
‘Over there,’ said Sixto, pointing.
‘Crawl, then jump and charge,’ said Declan.
‘You know, we are terrible leaders.’
‘What?’
‘A proper leader would send other men up here to be shot with arrows while he stayed below telling the rest of the men where to go next.’
Declan said, ‘You picked a wonderful time to bring that up.’
Sixto said, ‘Would you have listened?’
‘Probably not, now crawl.’
The two men crawled on their stomachs till they reached a narrow alley. The archers were on the next building over, and now they were shooting at both Declan’s men and the king’s men coming down the next broad street.
Sixto looked down, and said, ‘That’s only seven or eight feet,’ in a sarcastic tone.
‘Easy as falling off a chair,’ said Declan.
‘You could have put that a little differently.’
‘When I say go, back up three steps, then a run and a hop and we’re across.’
Sixto nodded.
‘Ready … go!’
Both men stood up, took their three steps back, and then leapt across the alley. On the other side were five archers, and one was restringing his bow. The other four were now shooting straight down into the king’s forces below.
By the time the first archer saw them and shouted a warning, Declan and Sixto were almost upon them. One bowman turned and let fly, the arrow missing Sixto’s neck by a scant measure, before he even had time to react.
With only bows, the archers were almost defenceless, but they tried to use their bows as clubs. Declan carried a sword, and Sixto a sword and belt-knife. Within seconds all five Azhante bowmen were dead.
Declan and Sixto ran and jumped back on the building overlooking their company and by the time they returned every man was up the road in front of them. Declan put his hands onto the roof tiles, then turned to lower himself and dropped to the ground. Sixto jumped and landed with a roll.
‘You could break your neck doing that,’ Declan said.
‘Or I could land safely,’ said Sixto.
They both turned to follow the company of mercenaries and were nearly out of breath when suddenly they encountered a wall of bodies.
‘What’s the problem?’ Declan asked.
‘Damn me if I know,’ said the man in front of Declan. ‘Nothing but men standing ahead.’
‘Let me through,’ Declan commanded, and when the fighter turned to see who was giving the orders, he said, ‘Sorry, Captain. I thought you were up ahead.’
Sixto smiled and said, ‘A proper leader, right?’
Declan’s dark look revealed that he didn’t appreciate the humour.
They forced their way forward, earning some curses and a few attempts at backhand blows until someone decided they should shout, ‘Make way for the captain!’
By the time Declan reached the front of the column, he saw that a huge conflict was raging as Daylon’s cavalry was attempting to force their way past a hastily erected barricade at the bottom of the road that led steeply up to the top of the Pride Lords’ hill.
Daylon was pulling his horse soldiers back as the barrier was preventing the riders from getting behind the barricade, while the defenders were using spears to jab at both horses and riders. Two horses, with arrows protruding from them, lay at the foot of the barricade as Declan surveyed the fight.
Within seconds he shouted, ‘Archers to the fore!’
Word was passed and in less than a minute half a dozen archers were answering his call.
‘They’ve got three of their own archers up there. I saw them a bit ago.’ Declan pointed to a rooftop on the corner of the street diagonally across from him, where three archers were standing. ‘If you can’t hit them, at least keep their heads down.’
He turned to the men behind him and said, ‘You lot, get across there and get those horses out of the way. If they’re still alive, cut their throats so they don’t kick anyone to death.’
He stepped back and waved them on, then turned and saw Daylon sitting a short distance away, watching. Declan ran over to him and said, ‘We’ll clear a way: I’ll signal when it’s done.’
Daylon ignored the lack of formal address and just nodded. ‘Get that barricade down.’
Declan ran back. His men were already climbing the barricade. He saw half a dozen get up on the roof where the archers had been shooting from and quickly bring them down.
Declan shouted, ‘Clear this street for the cavalry! Search every house for Azhante.’ He had given strict orders that only Azhante be killed. Any murder, looting, or rape would get a man hanged. He had promised them enough gold after this war that he hoped it would prevent wanton destruction. Not only had he no taste for it after the pillaging and plundering of Beran’s Hill, but it was a waste of time: he might need every fighting man when they reached the Pride Lords.
His men cleared away the barricade that had been made from furniture ripped out of nearby houses, crates from warehouses, and anything else these Azhante could find. Not one of them asked for quarter, but kept fighting until they were overwhelmed.
Declan moved to the centre of the street, turned, and pointed to each side of it, splitting his force in two, the men going door to door.
Sixto came up and said, ‘We let the men do the hard work?’
Declan let out a long breath and just nodded.
‘As a proper leader should,’ said Sixto.
Declan feigned striking him in the face with a balled fist, then turned to walk down the middle of the street, glancing upwards to keep watch for more archers but seeing none.
The men proceeded cautiously, at a walk, wary of ambush. As doors were kicked open, Declan heard screams from inside, but his men were back out on the street quickly so his message of no looting or assault of the common people seemed to have got through.
‘We have another barricade, Captain!’ someone shouted up ahead, and Declan and Sixto hurried to the next cross-street.
There they saw a few dozen black-clad Azhante fighters rapidly building a blockade out of debris and an overturned wagon, and Declan didn’t hesitate. ‘Charge!’ he shouted, and he turned to run at the defenders.
He jumped onto a crate, which slipped backwards. He brought a crushing blow down onto the neck and shoulder of the closest defender as he fell, landing face down on the cobbles, the breath knocked out of him. His head swam until a strong hand gripped him under the armpit and hauled him to his feet.
‘That was stupid,’ Sixto said, pulling him away.
‘Agreed,’ said Declan, shaking his head at the ringing in his ears.
By the time he had regained his wits, the fight was over.
‘This is too easy,’ said Sixto. ‘Where is their army?’
Then it struck Declan. ‘They don’t have one.’
‘Then how did they ravage North Tembria?’
‘It wasn’t their army! It was all the nations that are currently riding in rebellion, the ones they wanted to cull!’
Declan took a quick look around in a complete circle, trying not to feel dizzy. He shouted to the men behind him, ‘Pass the word back to the king to bring the horses up! Clear the road!’
He waited for word to be passed, and men on both sides pressed themselves back against the buildings so that they wouldn’t be trampled.
Declan shouted, ‘Pass the word! Leave the houses and follow the cavalry!’
Sixto said, ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘They’ve been delaying us, trying to buy time for those up at that palace. That’s where they will defend with everything they have!’
Sixto looked up towards the massive structure at the top of the hill and said, ‘I told you this was too easy.’
‘I hate it when you’re right,’ said Declan, clapping Sixto’s shoulder.
A short time later the king and his cavalry rode past. When the last horse had gone through, Declan waved his men to follow and started running.
HAVA MADE HER WAY TO the bow where two archers waited. ‘Nothing?’
‘Nothing,’ answered one of the men. He pointed high up past the lower buildings. ‘The noises are coming from up there, somewhere, but anyone living down here is probably hiding under their bed, and we’re not seeing anyone with a weapon.’
Hava turned to Billy and said, ‘Is Sabien ready?’
‘The straw and oil are in place. His crew is aboard.’
Hava said, ‘Send word that we’re a long way from knowing what’s up there, but if he’s the last man, burn her!’
‘I’ll send word.’
Hava turned and looked at the far south end of the harbour where Borzon’s Black Wake was beached. The king’s engineers had cut a huge door into the side of the ship Sabien had swung into the beach, and then caulked it with heavy canvas. They had cut it just above the waterline, to keep leaking to a minimum, and that had facilitated the quick unloading of the horses and riders.
But the ship was now useless, and the plan was for the king and the others to return here and board Queen of Storms if she was still docked, or whichever ship had room if she was engaged with an Azhante ship. Two of the king’s ten ships had been left back at the island base, and Hava had led the eight ships attacking.
The grim decision had been made to abandon the horses, and likely enough men would be killed that there would be room on the ships for them to return to the island. If one or two of these ships didn’t return, well, they still had two others to get them back to Marquensas.
A few minutes later, she saw flames spring from within Borzon’s Black Wake and Sabien jogged into sight. The big, ugly treasure ship had been useful, but she felt no regret at all seeing it in flames, remembering all too well the misery of those who had been chained within.
Sabien reached the deck and came to her. ‘It’s done, Captain.’
Hava nodded. ‘So, we wait.’
HATU NERVOUSLY SAT AT THE table in the library, his worry clearly visible, and at last he said, ‘I could look.’
Nathan said, ‘Don’t. Not until we know more about the thing in the pit—’
‘No, I meant at the battle,’ said Hatu. ‘Hava is there, so I can find her easily and see how it goes.’
‘I worry, too, but if you’re constantly checking on how she’s doing, we get nothing done here.’
Since Ruffio had arrived with Nathan, he had methodically questioned Hatu on every aspect of his powers. His approach was different to Nathan’s: it was as if he were creating a catalogue of his abilities, as Sabella had with the books.
‘You can distance-see?’ asked Ruffio, who still expressed surprise at many of the things Hatu achieved.
‘Not everywhere,’ Hatu answered. ‘It has to be somewhere I’ve been and remember, or if I can find someone I know well, then I can see them, and that’s when I see where they are, and that I can remember.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not explaining it well.’
‘No, that’s fine,’ said Ruffio. He looked at Nathan. ‘Still, no spellcraft or devices?’
It was Hatu who answered, ‘No. I just do it.’ He scowled at Ruffio and said, ‘You keep asking the same question. I don’t know any spellcraft, if you mean something like that book over there Nathan showed you, and the only device I’ve used was a compass, a long time ago … Oh, and one of those long-distance looking-tubes, a spyglass. I looked through one of those, once.’
Ruffio said, ‘Let’s leave this discussion for some other time.’ He looked at Bodai. ‘That’s the longest distance I’ve ever travelled. When I finished my studies ages ago, I took a little time off to wander for a while.’
‘Twenty years is a little time?’ Nathan asked in a mocking tone.
Ruffio fixed him with a dark look. ‘You more than anyone know the answer to that.’
Nathan shrugged. ‘I told you there are many things I don’t remember.’
Ruffio waved that comment away and said to Hatu, ‘So, can you take me to this pit and show me what’s in there?’
‘Easily, but first I’d like to see how my wife is doing.’
Hatu sat back, closed his eyes, and after a minute he said, ‘She’s on her ship in a harbour and the battle is at a distance from her.’ He opened his eyes, a look of relief on his face. ‘So, it will be dark soon. If you want to look at that place, we should do this now.’
Ruffio said, ‘Very well. What do I do?’
‘Get up,’ said Hatu, and placing his hands on Ruffio’s shoulders he said, ‘Put your hands on my shoulders, then close your eyes.’
