Soldiers Live (45 page)

Taglios:

Attack
It became clear to me that Sleepy wanted control of the South Gate itself. She
was flinging people and material around everywhere and using up those of us able
to fly, but when you did the numbers over half of our efforts were taking place
within a half mile of the barbican. And the barbican itself had suffered
immensely from above. Parts looked like slag pierced by ten thousand holes.

I had better information than Mogaba did. But I knew that the Great General
would catch on soon enough. He possessed a well-honed instinct for things
warlike.

How flexible was the Captain’s planning? Could she shift her point of attack
fast once Mogaba did catch on? I did not know. Whatever level of planning had
gone into this, I had not been invited to participate. Only Suvrin had a real
grasp of the whole picture. And I was not that sure about him. This Sleepy was
as close as I used to be when it came to sharing her thoughts.

That seemed to go with the job. My predecessors had been the same way. Someday
it would hurt us.

It was just past noon. Striking suddenly from all directions and enjoying
maximum support from above and from Tobo, our troops pushed into the barbican
complex. The defense seemed doomed once the assault teams got inside and got the
outer gates open.

Mogaba did not respond. The streets near the gate complex did empty as civilians
decided this seemed like a good time not to be visible. Bands of Taglian wounded
retreated deeper into the city. Still no one came forward to reinforce or
relieve the defenders of the barbican. Soldiers from Mogaba’s own Second
Territorial began saying unkind things about their boss.

Something was not right here. Mogaba was way too passive. The man had to know
that he had to do something before the night returned and the Company waxed far
more powerful by grace of the Unknown Shadows.

Somehow, we had to be doing what Mogaba wanted us to do if he was doing nothing
to prevent us from doing it.

Yeah. You can drive yourself crazy trying to work your way around all the angles
of that kind of stuff.

Sleepy sent everybody but Tobo off to intensify the attack on the upriver
waterfront defenses. Evidently we had gained a good foothold there, cheaply, so
the Captain wanted to expand it.

I had begun to suspect that Sleepy really did have no fixed plan. Other than to
seize whatever Mogaba was willing to let go.

An hour later, when loyalist troops did respond to the threat on the waterfront,

the South Gate again became the focus of our attack.

I hoped she decided soon. I was worn out. And we still had hours of daylight
left.

I was right in the first place. She chose the gate.

Back when the men on the walls finally broke into the gate houses a signal had
gone up, to alert the Captain and Lieutenant. There were two gate houses and
both had to be cleared. One had proven much more stubborn than the other. In the
interim every man not engaged elsewhere gathered outside, ready to attack.

Now Sleepy signalled the advance. The officers all had orders to push through
the barbican and drive straight on to the heart of the city. They had guides to
show them the way. The Captain wanted the Palace captured swiftly. She believed
we would face little resistance in the rest of Taglios once its symbolic heart
had fallen. Word was out already that the Prahbrindrah Drah was on his way, to
reclaim his family’s dominion.

Me, I would have had the Prince in my hip pocket first, ready to flash in front
of the mob right now. I would have him lead the charge. But nobody asked me how
I would handle things anymore.

Taglios:

Bad News, White Crow
Mogaba received the news about the South Gate in grim, expressionless silence.

He asked no questions, just looked to the west to see how much daylight he had
left. He turned to Aridatha and Ghopal. The latter nodded slightly.

Once a messenger had departed, the Great General asked, “Are they continuing
their attack on the waterfront?”

Aridatha responded. “At last report they were stepping it up.”

“Send another company. Their main force will head straight here. With all their
sorcery supporting it. A counterattack down there should have an excellent
chance of succeeding.”

“And what should I do about the invaders?” Aridatha asked.

“We’ve had that set for months. Just follow the plan. Let it unfold.”

Aridatha nodded, plainly wishing there was some way to reduce the bloodshed. He
was less pessimistic about the outcome of this conflict than was the Great
General. But he feared the price would be so crippling that victory would be the
greater evil for the city as a whole.

Mogaba told him, “I want you to return to your own headquarters now. Continue to
direct your troops from there.”

“But . . . ”

“If this goes badly and you’re here with me when they come you’ll have to pay a
crueler price than necessary. Do as I say. Ghopal, you take over here. No one
goes into the Palace. No one comes out. If the enemy gets this far make sure
they know about the Khadidas and the Daughter of Night. I expect you to stay out
of the way yourself. The best people to get the information to are the two
wearing the fiery armor. Widowmaker and Lifetaker. They’ll listen to you.

They’re the girl’s natural parents. Aridatha, why are you still standing there?

You have your instructions.”

Ghopal asked, “What’ll you be doing?”

“Readying a pair of counterattacks that’ll make these strange foreign soldiers
wish that they’d never left the land where they were born.” The Great General
projected immense confidence.

He did not feel a bit of it inside.

Nevertheless, his stride was that of an arrogant conquerer as he walked away
from the Palace, a gaggle of messengers and functionaries scurrying behind him.

He spun off orders as he went.

Mogaba spotted the white crow watching from a cornice stone. He beckoned. “Come
down here.” He patted his shoulder.

The bird did as it was bid, startling Mogaba’s entourage.

The Great General asked, “Are you who I think you are?”

Taglios:

The Special Team
There were some tasks too important to entrust to anyone but family. The
responsible captains at the South Gate were always related to Ghopal Singh,

though they were officers in the City Battalions. They were all men who dared
not be disloyal because their pasts were all tangled up with the Greys, the
Great General, and the Protectorate.

Also, they were men who were mentally disciplined enough to retreat without
running away. They were men who had prepared themselves and their followers for
this day. Though, originally, they had expected the Protector herself to be
entering their killing zone.

Taglios:

Outrageous Fortune
The passage through the barbican seemed a maze from inside, though there were
only a half dozen turns. From above it did not look that bad. Until huge blocks
of stone fell out of the walls, blocking the way ahead of and behind the
Captain, trapping her, her staff and another dozen men.

The falling blocks initiated a train of mechanical events, the first of which
was the launching of a storm of poisoned darts. Horses screamed and men cursed.

And, as I sent my flying post downward to try to get the Captain out of there,

burning oil sprayed from ports in the walls.

So this was how they had planned to get rid of Soulcatcher.

The heat drove me back. The black Voroshk clothing could not stand up to much of
that.

Sleepy had chosen to place herself at the middle of the invading column. Which
meant our forces had just been split in two.

A massive counterattack was sure to develop.

I pushed myself up beside Arkana, who was numb with the horror. “Get ahold of
yourself! I want you to find Suvrin. Tell him I’ll take charge on the city side.

He can build steps to get the rest of the men past that mess. He can use the
lumber meant for siege engines. Go on! Get going!”

Once again I did not have to whack her to bring her out of her stupor.

Once again Mogaba had dealt us one off the bottom of his deck. This time our
chances of surviving did not look good.

We should have been prepared for it. He had told us that there were arrangements
in place.

Sometimes you just do not hear what is being said.

I checked the sun before I reached the ground.

We would have to hang on for a bit longer than what inspired me with optimism.

“It won’t be long,” I insisted to the commanders on the ground. “We need to put
ourselves into a position to hang on until nightfall. Once darkness comes . . .

”

“The Unknown Shadows.”

“The Hidden Realm.”

Shouts. A scatter of arrows fell.

“Push a company along the wall that direction,” I directed. “I want those steps
under our control when the others start joining us.” I had to show an optimism I
did not feel. I hoped Suvrin would press his half of the attack.

No man could question the courage of the soldiers from Hsien. They mauled the
City Battalions badly. They mauled reinforcements from the Second Territorial.

Unfortunately, the City Battalions and Mogaba’s Second Territorial elite mauled
them right back. It did not take long to see that Sleepy might have taken too
big a bite. The Great General seemed to have plenty of reserves, though he was
parsimonious when it came to investing them.

Vigorous support from Arkana, Shukrat and Tobo kept us from being overwhelmed.

Once Tobo woke up enough to begin thinking more than mechanically the tide began
to turn. Once he recalled that he was good for something more than dropping
rocks and fire-pots. Once he added his sorcerous skills to the girls’ weaker
ones we got stinging insects, painful worms of fire, lemon and lime snowflakes
that pitted armor and flesh.

Nevertheless, the enemy kept us confined until darkness came.

Darkness always comes.

Taglios:

Night and the City
The Great General took charge of the riverfront defenses personally. He found
morale abysmal when he arrived, accompanied by reserves from the Second
Territorial. The long succession of military disasters had the soldiers
suspecting that defeat was inevitable and that they were being wasted in a
hopeless cause.

The Great General himself led his own lifeguard in a counterattack of such fury
and finesse that the enemy soon lost everything that it had taken them all day
to capture.

The invaders got no support from above. The Great General interpreted that to
mean that they were in desperate straits at the South Gate.

There was not a lot of communication between forces. Nobody knew what anybody
else was doing, really. The best anyone could do was cling to the plans and hope
the enemy did not get too much enjoyment from his advantages.

Mogaba’s opponents tried reinforcing themselves with recent recruits. That did
them little good. Those men entered the fighting in groups too small to make any
difference.

The last attackers fled in the barges they had used to make their initial
landings, drifting downriver because they did not have enough men healthy enough
to row against the current. All the barges were overburdened, one so much so
that it shipped water at the slightest rocking. It did not remain afloat long.

Mogaba treated himself to a long breather. He turned his mind off completely,

closed his eyes, let the cold winter air chill him.

When he was calm and breathing normally again he allowed himself to return to
the moment.

He could get the best of this thing yet. If he could get these men to the South
Gate and get in a hard blow he might damage the enemy enough to earn his own
people a fair chance of making it through the night. If he succeeded, victory
would be his. They would not be able to survive everything he would throw at
them tomorrow.

He opened his eyes.

The white crow stared at him from a perch on a broken cartwheel scarcely a foot
from his face.

The crow started talking.

That bird was a much better messenger and spy than the crows he had known in
earlier days.

The Great General listened for a long time. And wondered if the mind behind the
bird was aware of his disloyalty.

He would not bring it up first.

The Great General dragged himself upright, ignoring the complaints of aching
muscles. “Sergeant Mugwarth. Spread the word. All officers. Round up every man
who can walk. We’re moving up to relieve the South Gate.”

The enemy’s aerial advantage betrayed the trap before it could close. Mogaba
left the soldiers to their work and hastened toward the Palace. He arrived as
dusk began to deepen shadows. The view from that eminence included half a dozen
fires still burning. Smoke and trickles of fire still attended the fallen parts
of the Palace, too.

Awaiting him was the news that the enemy had reduced most of the defenses at the
downriver end of the city. Their forces there had been augmented by the
survivors from upriver. These outsiders were stubborn fighters.

“Send reinforcements?” Ghopal asked.

Mogaba thought a moment. Those foreigners ought to be near their limits. “Yes,

actually. These are all your men here, around the Palace, aren’t they?”

“I thought that would be best. Makes them all men I can trust.”

“Let Aridatha’s soldiers take their place. Send yours to the waterfront. And
gather up any of your brothers and cousins who’re still alive, I want them
here.”

“What? . . . ”

“Do it. Quickly. Quickly. And round up all those captured fireball throwers.”

“I think we used most of them up.”

“That means they’re some of them left. I want them all.”

Darkness came. And soon after it did messages reached the Great General
informing him that his enemies, inside both their footholds, were hunkering down
for the night rather than pressing forward when their shadowy allies could come
out to play.

The Great General refused to let the night intimidate him. By his example he
inspired those around him. And it did seem that the enemy’s spooks meant to do
little more than yell “Boo!”

The Great General reorganized the city’s defenses, shifting almost all
responsibility into Aridatha Singh’s hands. Then he led Ghopal Singh and the
man’s kinsmen, armed with fireball throwers, toward the waterfront conflict.

Ghopal asked, “What’re we doing?”

“This is a false peace,” Mogaba replied. “They lost their Captain this
afternoon. The trap in the gate worked to perfection. They lost most of their
command staff, too.” He did not explain how he knew that. “They’ll need to work
out who’s in charge and what they’re going to do now. They might even decide to
go away.” He shivered, told himself it was the winter air.

But he knew that Croaker had survived the day. He knew the Company would not be
going away. He knew the succession there had been assured and the new Captain
would attempt to complete the work of the old.