IronStar (23 page)

“Do you attack the cart with fire,
or the men?” he asked. When she stared at him a moment, he added: “I have seen
this done once before. It seemed effective, to soak the ground with oil, before
setting the fire. It takes a long time, to burn through such wood planks.”

“The good Armsmaster is quite
correct. Please proceed,” she said. A dozen clay jars sailed out, to smash down
on the road’s surface just north of the improvised ditch. Within moments, the
first of the two rams crashed down into the ditch and
almost
up the
other side. With an audible groan, both of the meter-and-a-half wide front
wheels settled back neatly into Irshe’s meter-wide, forty-centimeter deep
ditch.
Oh, too bad!
thought Kirrah.
I bet that log under there masses
a tonne or more, plus the weight of the cart. Tough luck, suckers!
Hands
became visible around the back of the wheel, as men strained to move the ram
forward. The heavy cart rocked back and forth a few centimeters.

Opeth gestured, and one of Kirrah’s
improvised Molotov cocktails smashed to the road beside the trapped ram. The
flames immediately spread to the oil slick on the road, and men howled under
the plank roof.
Look, it burns green!
Kirrah thought absently, as the
pale flames licked up around the cart. Another two jars smashed on the top of
the cart, setting up a nice blaze, the oil soaking into the dry wood. More
howls, as burning oil dripped between the planks. Two, three men rolled
burning, out from under the cart, to be immediately impaled by eager archers on
the wall.

“Can the Warmaster claim these Wrth
too?” asked Opeth from her right elbow. “Never before have Wrth surrendered. We
are all totally amazed.”

“I regret, the Wrth under this cart
are too dangerous to our walls,” she replied. When the rams are destroyed, we
can try again with those,” gesturing to the mass of raiders milling just out of
bowshot.
They
think
they’re put of bowshot, anyway
…

“Rash’koi-
sana'tachk
! Can
you muster half the men from the rooftops behind us? Those Wrth up the road
need another lesson in longbow fighting.” With a broad, toothy grin, the
Talamae lieutenant dispatched a messenger.
Oh-oh, what’s that second ram up
to…
The vehicle was turning, aiming about thirty degrees off the road. A
rush of men from the first ram scrambled across the fifteen meters separating
the two devices, a third of them falling to arrows from the walls. The huge
cart moved forward again, smashing through the light frame stalls at the west
side of the road, crunching over the wreckage by sheer muscle power. Within a
few seconds, it passed around the left end of the ditch and crashed to a halt
against the base of the wall, five meters west of the gate. The wall trembled
slightly to the impact. Men rushed along the wall to the site of the new
attack, and burning oil crashed down on and around the siege engine. A heavy
thud reverberated through the wall as the attackers got their log swinging.
Another. Bits of dust and pebbles showered down from the masonry.
This is
not good,
thought Kirrah.

“Prax’soua-
dakka'tachk
!
Where are your rock-movers?” she demanded.
Thud
.

“Here, Warmaster,” the burly blond
man replied. At his gesture, three comparably nasty-looking characters
clustered around.
I bet these are drinking buddies
, Kirrah thought
irrelevantly.
Thud.
More pebbles fell, and bits of mortar.

“The Wrth seek to knock down our
wall.” she said.
Thud
. “I think it would be nice, if the
first
stone to fall was that big one, the crenellation directly over the end of their
ram. Could you please arrange that?”

“Yes, Warmaster! No problem!” To
the south on the rooftops, Talamae archers were double-timing north towards the
wall. After an experimental bit of rocking by Prax’soua’s team, the
crenelation, a stone about a meter square and twenty-five centimeters thick,
toppled out silently and landed with a splintering crunch on the roof of the
ram five meters below.
Oh, my
! thought Kirrah. The roof planks were
smashed through, the heavy frame that carried the front end of the
battering-log collapsed in splintered ruin, and one wheel fell off as it broke
away from the front axle. More firebombs rained down on the opening and around
the carriage, and arrows picked off the unfortunate raiders as the flames
forced them out.

A few moments later, Lieutenant
Rash’koi reported that an extra sixty-five archers were in position, and fifty
or so remained of the walltop’s original sixty defenders.

“Shoot as far as you can into their
ranks,” Kirrah said, pointing to the mass of over a thousand raiders clustered
up the north road. “This is our last chance, before they learn the range of our
new longbows.” At his command, three volleys of over a hundred arrows each were
in the air, before the first flight landed a good sixty meters back from the
front of the densely packed Wrth formation. A fourth and fifth volley drew
blood before the disorganized horsemen could withdraw to a safe distance.
Your
move, sucker!
Kirrah thought.

As the last of the captured Wrth
were being led away, a brief conference was held on the walltop. No one was
anxious to take the fight to the Wrth, who still held the plains outside the
walls with over five thousand mounted warriors.
We have the technological
advantage, but not the manpower,
Kirrah realized. Sending four hundred
bowmen out against that horde, without the security of walls, would be suicide.
Another stalemate. The smoke from the smoldering rams and the burning wreckage
of the few buildings under the walls rose into the gray sky.

“Would the Armsmaster please review
our available forces?” Kirrah asked.

“Warmaster, we have six hundred
soldiers trained to the new weapons - two hundred pike and two hundred longbow,
and another two hundred who are trained with both. That leaves one hundred on
wall patrol, covering the forty-five towers and the three gates. There are also
the two hundred militia already trained with old bows and swords only, all can
ride. There are one hundred Border Patrol still away from the city, maintaining
borders with our neighbors and guarding the villages to the south. One hundred
fifty-five Royal Cavalry remain uninjured, plus of course the hundred palace
guard.”

Eleven hundred fifty, if you strip
the town of defenses,
Kirrah added up.
Barely nine hundred if you leave
the walls and towers manned
. A feeling of desperation settled over her like
a mantle.
What can they do, against five thousand raiders?
Through a
tight throat, she asked:

“What will the Wrth do next? How
much food do they carry?” Several people looked at one another, finally Opeth
spoke:

“They carry food for up to twenty
days, and they can resupply from their own villages within a few days. They are
unused to defeat. I believe they will stay camped around our walls for some
time, preventing farming or travel. Our planting season will be over in another
twenty days.” Kirrah thought a moment, replied:

“If the Talamae want to break this
siege, we will need more soldiers. There are easily five thousand strong men in
the farms and trades, are there not?”

“We cannot make soldiers out of
carpenters and bakers in a few days,” said Lord Tsano, “nor can we prosper
without tradesmen.”

“This city will slowly strangle if
we are not allowed into our own fields,” Kirrah said. “What will it take, for
all the Talamae people to rise up and break this siege?” Several looks were
exchanged.

“It will require a full meeting of
the
shee’tho’vai
Council,” Lord Tsano replied, referring to the
governing body which consisted of an elected leader from each of the two
hundred city blocks. “I will call a meeting for tonight, assuming
those
,”
he gestured towards the northwest where the Wrth were withdrawing, “require no
more attention today. Meanwhile, I wonder if our Warmaster would like to see to
her new… warriors? Perhaps something of value could be learned.”

“I will return if I hear the alarm
ringing. My Lord’s advice is good. It would also be good to raise this stone
block, so the gate can be opened again at need. Perhaps our friends will visit
again, although I do not think them that foolish.”

As the meeting broke up, Kirrah
descended by the tower ladder, to the death-filled street. After a moment the
door into the first
vai’atho
was opened, and she retrieved Whoopsie from
the entryway stable. She and the three men remaining in her bodyguard rode a
block west and then three blocks south, by silent agreement avoiding the bloody
avenue.

Two blocks south of the carnage,
where Falling Ash Road reached the outer palace walls, they caught up to the
last of the prisoner procession. Irshe and Corporal Mastha’cha paced alongside
the girl Peetha, who was sitting erect in her saddle, hands bound behind her
just like the men and women walking ahead of them.
Be careful
, a
cautionary thought with the memory of Angela’s voice reminded Kirrah,
these
are wolves in a barnyard, you could lose it all in a breath
. Drops of blood
marked the path the procession had taken; two blocks south from the pike line,
then one street west and one south, around the palace, and into the gate
guarding the military compound. Cavalry lined the route, followed the last of
them.

“Irshe,” she whispered, dropping
back a few paces from the procession, “How can we get help for their injuries?”

“The priests are already aware,
they will be along soon.”

“Is a Wrth’s word to be trusted?
What do you know of them?”

“When my family traded with them,
years ago, they were trustworthy. I do not know now, it has never happened that
they have… cooperated like this.”
Great, new worlds to explore
, Kirrah
thought.

In another ten minutes, they
reached the designated practice field, well within the military compound. Wrth
warriors were standing in the open, looking as confused as Kirrah felt inside.
The Royal Cavalry was drawn up in a row along the longer, sixty-meter side of
the field, apparently having taken seriously Kirrah’s suggestion to escort her
new ‘students’. The twenty longbowmen she had detached for the same duty were
in a line across the nearer, short end of the yard. As the last of the
procession entered the practice field, the row of cavalry extended across the
entrance. The Cavalry Major rode forward and stopped beside Kirrah, near the
group of bound raiders.

“I will now take charge of the prisoners,”
said Major Doi’tam firmly.

“I see no prisoners, Sir,” said
Kirrah. “You must mean someone else, these are
my
student warriors.”
Looks were being exchanged among the Wrth, Kirrah noticed.

“No doubt a useful ruse. However
they are now bound, and tricks are no longer necessary. The Royal Cavalry has a
score to settle.”

“Irshe-
ro’tachk
!” Her tall
friend stepped forward, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “Did you convey to the
Royal Cavalry my terms for this duty? I believe I said, ‘no trouble - no harm’.”
Major Doi’tam’s splendid white mount shuffled slightly.

“I did, Warmaster!”

“And have any of my
student-warriors given trouble to their escort?”

“No, Warmaster!”

“
Dakka'tachk
!” …this to the
orange-and-green ribboned bowman, with the trailing orange ribbon. The young
Corporal ran five steps up to her and saluted.

“Hu’dakai-
dakka'tachk
,
Warmaster!”

“Have your men kept constant watch
on the procession?”

“Yes, Warmaster. No trouble, Sir!”
You
catch on quick, soldier. I wonder how people get promoted in this outfit
…

“Our guest may be amused by this
nonsense. We are not. Stand aside,
guest
-soldier!” growled Major
Doi’tam. Kirrah was hardly conscious of having moved in front of the major’s
horse.

“Does the
Fira'tachk
…” she
started, then with a hiss of steel on scabbard, the big blond Cavalry Major
drew his heavy sword, and at the motion, the entire rank of mounted cavalry
behind him drew also. Something like a sigh rose from the bound Wrth. With a
wooden rattle of arrows against bows, the twenty longbowmen to Kirrah’s right
nocked arrows and took aim at the major. Corporal Mastha’cha and the other
three men of Kirrah’s personal bodyguard drew swords and closed around her.

“Does the good
Fira'tachk
,”
said a clear, soft voice from behind the line of cavalry, “intend to defy his
Warmaster on this field, before the Wrth? Or perhaps he would rather bring his
complaint to the council tonight, like a Talamae soldier?”
Bless you
,
Kirrah thought, as Issthe and half a dozen of the blue-robed priests stepped
out between the ranks of mounted cavalry.

“Source can plainly see, we have
enough work to do already.” The tall pale woman continued walking straight into
the center of the confrontation, serene as though strolling in a garden.
“Although I suppose, with the number of
loyal
bowmen present, and the
palace guard, the first one to give orders to disgrace the Royal Cavalry will
swiftly be beyond reach of
our
services. Was it not Lord Tsano himself,
who assigned these men,” a casual wave took in the four orange-and-blues surrounding
Kirrah, “…to protect his Warmaster?