A Shout for the Dead (35 page)

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Authors: James Barclay

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: A Shout for the Dead
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'I need more skirmishers out there. Get a shield round that cavalry!'

Roberto ran headlong through the devastated lines towards the front. The shock of seeing the cavalry charge break down was still rippling through the ranks. The Tsardon had taken the opportunity and were advancing quickly under a concerted barrage of archer fire. The Claws were responding but in lesser numbers. It was impossible to say how many had died, or how many weapons and shields had been broken or snatched away and flung into the tattered remnants of the camp. The infantry was in disarray. The cavalry had to supply cover while they regrouped. And now they were scattered too.

'Come on, Dina,' he muttered. 'You know what you've got to do.'

Roberto couldn't see Dina Kell's cavalry. He could only pray they were massing for another ride across the enemy lines. Anything to distract and disrupt or the Claws would be overwhelmed. He pushed on through injured men and women, past the wreckage of an onager that had tumbled straight through a gladius hastati maniple before coming to rest in the midst of the principes.

The wind had taken every loose piece of armour and weaponry and flung it into the legionaries behind. Soldiers lay dead and injured, impaled on sarissas, cut by shield and sword, battered by flying helmet. All around him, centurions bellowed for order and to present a front to the Tsardon. The lucky ones began to form up but they would offer little defence.

The carnage was awful and the Tsardon had not made a single strike. Without Kell, without Adranis, the Claws would be routed. Soldiers had broken away from the front of the lines and were running with shields held before them towards the stricken cavalrymen. Archers followed, stopping to send volleys into the approaching Tsardon.

He could see half a dozen cavalrymen trying to outrun the Tsardon and the hideous dead that were closing on them too quickly. All were injured. One was being supported by two others and clearly in a bad way. More legionaries were running towards the dead, trying to buy the cavalry some more time. A pace later, Roberto could see who the stricken man was.

'Oh no,' he whispered. 'Adranis!'

Roberto stopped and snatched a shield from the ground and drew his gladius. The thrashing of his heart threatened to bring him to his knees. Every sound roared in his ears. He raised the shield high and burst through the lines. Arrows were peppering the ground. Conquord archers responded. Tsardon soldiers fell, shields blocked out. At least one of the dead was struck from his feet, only to rise again.

'Adranis!' Roberto saw him raise his head. 'Come on. Faster.'

Other throats took up his call. Adranis and those carrying him picked up their pace. The dead were practically on them. Roberto was twenty yards from them, the most forward legionaries just a few paces from them. Arrows fell again. One of Adranis's supporters was taken through the back of the neck and plunged forwards, bringing the three of them down.

'Force them back,' ordered Roberto, sprinting across the gap, sacrificing his shield defence in the pursuit of speed. 'Archers, knock them down.'

Roberto knew there was desperation in his voice but he couldn't keep the even tone of command. Adranis was struggling to get up again, trying to shake off the grasp of his erstwhile helper. The other cavalryman Was already on his feet and facing the dead.

He'd lost his weapon and shield. He had nothing but his hands and feet. He moved towards them, just a couple of paces distant now. He kicked out, pushed and punched. Arrows slammed into dead either side of him, giving him space. But their swords lashed out, carving into his head and sides. He went down in a welter of blood and the dead were past him. Another blade came down.

'Adranis!' screamed Roberto.

His brother sprawled on his face, unmoving. The skirmishers barrelled into the dead, fury lending their strikes raw power. Roberto skidded to a stop by his brother. He dropped his shield, sheathed his sword and fell to his knees. The sword had struck Adranis's back plate and slid down into his lower back. The wound pulsed blood. It was deep and filthy. But he was still breathing. Roberto looked around him for help. There was none forthcoming.

The skirmishers were holding the dead but no more, finding them almost impossible to put down permanently. The Tsardon were closing but Roberto could hear and feel onrushing hoof beats.

Cavalry stormed in front of the Tsardon lines. He heard the clash of weapons and the screams of men and horses. He thrust his arms beneath Adranis's chest and waist and picked him up, blowing at the limp weight.

'Hang on, little brother,' he said. 'Please hang on.'

He ran back through the lines, running between two maniples that pointed the way to the only man who could save Adranis. Roberto thanked God for his one small mercy. The Goslander miracle worker: Surgeon Dahnishev.

Chapter Twenty-Five

859th cycle of God, 35th day of
Genasrise

Kell took the cavalry into the flank of the Tsardon advance. They had become over-eager and while the pikes were bristling centrally, without cavalry support of their own, they were vulnerable at the edges. Her riders hacked and slashed their swords at undefended bodies. Horses battered past enemies, trampled through dying men. Arrows flew over her head, rattling on shields or finding their marks.

The horns sounded withdrawal and she -dragged at the reins. Her horse came round easily, her move covered by her deputies. It gave her a view of the Bear Claws lines and her heart fell. The few enemy dead had been destroyed. The surviving cavalrymen from Adranis's detachment moved but there was no security in where they had been taken. And Adranis himself was not with them.

As they galloped away, chased off by Tsardon arrows, she leaned into her senior hornsman.

'Take them back in one more time. Right-hand flank. Then I want archer passes across the front of their lines. I'll rejoin you presently.'

'Yes, General.'

Kell galloped away to find Pavel Nunan. Every stride she took made her more and more certain. The Tsardon advance had slowed but it wasn't purely because of her cavalry. They had made enough ground to get their whole force on to the field. And when they did, they would roll over the fractured, plainly demoralised legion.

Behind them, the imperial highway led up a sharp slope between two heavily tree-lined valley sides. Dahnishev had set his emergency triage area there a few days before. Always by the book, Dahnishev, bless him. Set with crag and difficult terrain, it was a place you could retreat a legion into and hold out against a greater number forced to attack upslope. She hoped Nunan was already contemplating it.

She found Pavel in a tide of wounded and dying legionaries. In the half-light, his face was white and full of the shock they all felt. None but Roberto and Dahnishev had ever seen an Ascendant work before on the battlefield and it was a weapon against which there was no defence. Even so, he was marshalling one, manufacturing maniples from across the legion to present some form of front to the Tsardon menace.

'We cannot fight this,' she said, dismounting near him and pulling him to one side. 'Retreat now. Get the legion back into the hills and regroup.'

'The Bear Claws do not run,' said Nunan.

'Oh, Pavel, look around you. When the Tsardon come at us that'll happen whether you wish it or not. And if another Work is used, what then? We've lost a third of our number—'

'More if you count the wounded.'

'—so let's move while we still can in some semblance of order.' She reached out and touched his face. 'The fact that they haven't been routed now says so much about your strength. But we need an Ascendant fighting with us.'

'They're in Estorr, Dina,' said Nunan, his voice a hiss.

'Then we'd better get messages to them quickly or the next thing they see will be the dead marching through the Victory Gates. We have to pull away now. Leave anything that'll slow us and get out fast.'

'I'll not leave them one of our fallen,' said Nunan. 'Don't you see that's exactly what they want?'

'Either that or risk giving them more by moving too slowly.' Kell pointed out towards the castle. 'My cavalry are spread too thin as it is. One break and they will be upon you.'

The wind picked at their cloaks and hair once more. Never had a gentle gust caused such anxiety among professional soldiers. Kell could see some crouch reflexively, awaiting the blast. Nothing came by way of a hurricane. It was far worse than that. A stirring behind the reformed front line and through to the back of the legion. A weary twitch of muscle and the opening of eyes thought shut for good. Kell saw a man covered by his cloak sit up as if plucked to wakefulness by God. The cloak fell from his face and a tiny trickle of blood ran from a wound in his forehead. Those standing near him and hundreds like him, scattered.

Screams and shouts ricocheted across the legion, swelling in intensity, driving terror into every heart. Breaking wills. The Tsardon didn't need to attack. The Ascendant didn't need another gale. The job was done most effectively. The Bear Claws, those that were able, broke and ran.

Kell's mouth fell open. Her horse snorted and backed away, threatening to pull her over. She held the mare, just. Nunan was bawling for order, his shouts lost in the panic.

'They're gone,' shouted Kell into his face. 'Go with them. At least be with those you can.'

She gripped her reins and swung into the saddle.

'Dina, come with me.'

'I'll cover you as best I can, bring the cavalry in from the west. We can't ride near the dead. Go, Pavel.' 'Don't die,' he said.

it isn't my day for that,' she said. 'And neither is it yours.' But as she rode away, Dina saw Pavel and a few of his bravest facing their fallen comrades and found no solace in her words.

Roberto ran as hard as he could. Adranis was a dead weight in his hands. Blood was running from the wound. It soaked his brother's clothes and stained Roberto's gauntlets. His heart thudded hard, every beat painful. He had to ignore who it was lay in his arms. Had to avoid panic.

The legion was in tatters. Standards were flying over a few maniples but Roberto had to look at his feet as much as ahead to avoid standing on dead or wounded. He didn't have the strength to be angry, that would come later. This desolation was a crime that had to be avenged. The fact of Adranis in his arms had to be avenged. But first they had to live to turn against the enemy.

Hurrying through what was left of the legion order, faces loomed at him out of the pale, dust-filled darkness. Men and women were screaming. There were those that received help where they lay or were being carried back away from the front but most would get no assistance.

Roberto barely knew where he was running. The line of tents and the temporary stockade that had made up the camp were gone. For the first time, he wondered if he would find any surgeon, let alone

Dahnishev. And if he did, he had no guarantee they would be able to offer any aid.

Behind him, he heard the roar of the Tsardon army, the clash of weapons and the thunder of hoofs. Dina Kell was all that stood between them and slaughter and in the meantime, the Bear Claws had to reorganise. Roberto made it through the chaotic infantry lines, brushing off offers of help. A few tent spars were all that remained of the encampment. A hundred yards behind, he could see tent canvas and wood hanging in the boughs of trees and strewn across the highway. He could see people running across the road and heading up towards the southern crag. Not deserting, looking for a place to stand.

'Dahnishev!' Roberto shouted into the tumult of battering noise. 'Where is my surgeon.'

Someone was running towards him, dodging through legionaries and bodies. Hope flared.

'Hang on, little brother.' Roberto ran on. 'Herides. God-surround-us, we're in a mess.'

Herides looked down on Adranis and his eyes widened. He gasped. 'Master Del Aglios.'

'He's still alive, Herides. Just. I need Dahnishev. Tell me you know where he is.'

Herides nodded. 'I do. He's taken his people up to the crag. Did it the moment the wind dropped off. We were lucky, General. He hadn't unpacked much equipment on the battlefield. It's still in the trunks and they're undamaged.'

'Take me to him.'

'Let me help you, carry him for you.' 'No, Herides. This is my burden.' Herides nodded. 'Follow me.'

The tenor of the shouting in the legion changed as if chasing them across the road and up the slope towards the crag. Roberto risked a glance around. He could see legionaries scattering from their positions. And in the moonlight, Kell's cavalry circled and pounded again into an exposed Tsardon flank. But the pike blocks were still coming and would find no resistance from the Bear Claws because the dead had awoken in their midst.

Shapes of men and women loomed from the dimness. People were flooding past him, terrified faces snatched by the gloom as they went.

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