The Vastness Read online

  “If she could see a bit farther,” Blathebed said, “She’d be able to tell us which cities these laggards came from.”

  “Lira Valley,” I said, and pointed at the wagons that lined Priests’ Field. “Bermish, every one of them. Yarik called upon his cousins in Pashwarmuth.”

  “Oh, that the best news I’ve heard yet,” he said with something very close to a sigh. “I was worried they were all from Alsonelm.”

  “That would be a terrible sight. If Alsonelm threw in with Yarik, we would be finish,” I said and pondered for long moment what would persuade them to join us if not the death of General Sonsol. This was a problem for another day, however, and I fixed my mind on to the task ahead.

  “We’ll need ropes with hooks,” I said to the Boatswain. “Can you shoot them up over the palace wall?”

  He shook his head at us. “You are just working on the details now?”

  “We’ll also need a way to get everyone ashore as fast as possible.”

  “Admiral Sewin is aware the pending action?”

  Blathebed looked toward Admiral Sewin’s tower. “Blast. There will be hell to pay. Twice in two days I’ve done this to him without a word of explanation. Well, I’d better bite the leather and make our apologies.”

  “When he stops yelling, tell him we have a plan,” I said.

  “Do we?”

  “Depends on how long he yells.”

  Blathebed did not laugh, and the boatswain and I were left to stare at each other. We took note of the eyes upon us.

  “They’ll be taking bets on which of us takes the first swing,” I said.

  “Easy money is on you,” he replied.

  “Can’t argue with that,” I said and looked up river at the company of mounted Hurdu that were pacing up as we followed the river’s turn east. All the while, the men aboard watched us.

  “All is well on the Exaltier’s river?” I asked.

  “We made a fresh run down to Escandi a few days ago, escorting Admiral Mercanfur south. You’d have loved to see what’s left of Urmand. We’ve burned everything within reach of the river.”

  “Mercanfur went south?” I asked and pointed back downstream, “But I saw his ship down by Tin Bridge.”

  “Not the same ship. King Barok managed to sail another one around. Admiral Mercanfur hurried south the same day.”

  King Barok? When the fuck did that happen and why in the hell does a boat slave know more about my brother’s dealings than I do?

  More of my Rahan’s secrets.

  I shook my head and tried to focus. The boatswain did not like standing there and excused himself to check on Blathebed. I managed a salute of sorts, which he returned. I recognized it might also have been the smell of me that drove him away. I stank of wine, sex, and cheese.

  The line of galleys dove across the river as it turned to follow the curved of the high curtain wall of the palace. A thin rocky shore and a flat road of heavy stone ran below the rock face and wall all the way north to the burnt out remains of the Chancellery. The dome of rock the wall edged was a mountain according to some overeager mapmakers, and the curved section we sailed along rose above the thrust of rock twenty times the height of a man. The bluecoats called that western section of wall the Ribbon. Its top was so wide that there was nothing to see but the battlements and the sky and nothing to do but count your paces.

  I hurried down the long deck to one of the tall weapons and almost collided with its crew chief.

  “Is it ready to fire?” I asked.

  “Does it look ready?” one of his mates asked back, and this earned the man a smack on the ear from the chief.

  “Get her ready, quick,” I said.

  “Taking a shot at the Hurdu?”

  I ignored his question and searched for a rope.

  His men started cranking the winches, and the machine’s creaking wood and squeaking iron set me back on my heels.

  “Something I can help you find?” the crew chief asked.

  “A rope and a hook. I need to test your range.”

  One of his mates pulled a coil of rope out from a ready shelf along the side of the weapon’s wide base. The chief understood me and he instructed his men to replace the barbed bolt with a hooked one and tie the long coil to it.

  “Aim it over the wall,” I said, and the chief had to repeat the order twice before they stopped gawking at me.

  They worked different winches and gear, and the weapon tipped back until it looked ready to give up and fall backwards.

  “What do you call this thing?” I asked.

  “This is my ballista,” he said, and yanked on a lever. The machine barked with the fury of a demon, the rope hissed, and the iron bolt arched through the air. Up and up it went.

  “Come on,” I said, and grabbed the chief’s arm. His men cheered while their bolt reached up toward the soft clouds, and half the crew screamed in triumph as it cleared the top of the wall.

  “What, by the ice?” a towering voice bellowed over the din, and the crew shut its mouths as if slapped. “What the devil are you playing at?”

  Admiral Sewin was running down the deck, Blathebed and the boatswain in tow. He had a hatchet, and I flinched back as he charged us and chopped the tightening rope. Its twang was as loud as the bark of the weapon that had shot it. I’d not thought of that.

  He pointed the hatchet at me. “This is your plan?”

  Blathebed stepped in, but looked like a recruit wishing for a quick death.

  “I’ve stood watch up there,” I said. “Not many men guard this section of wall, and it is the only stretch this close to the shore. I say we send a hundred ropes over the wall and go ashore here and now. Forget the north shore and its ready towers. Your ballista will do proper murder as Yarik’s men jam themselves together trying to get at us off the road.”

  “And from above? What devilry will they pour down?”

  “Nothing but spit and piss. No equipment is maintained here.”

  Blathebed said, “He’s right. And if you’d asked me if this contraption here had the range I would have laughed at you. The Hemari have never contemplated a direct attack upon this wall. Academy generals have spent lifetimes drafting treatises on the defenses of the palace. There are none written about the Ribbon.”

  Sewin glanced back at the rope that hung down the high wall, and the half company of the Hurdu that collected beneath it. He made his decision on the spot. His voice rang out, the order moved through the fleet, and the long line of war galleys swooped in toward the shore.

  I moved to thank the admiral, but he turned his back on me and started toward his tower. Blathebed got between us. “You don’t want to be speaking to him just now, son.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Blathebed shook his head. “Get the men sorted to go ashore. I’ll be aft in the tower with the admiral.”

  “You’re in the tower now, are you?” I asked, but he ignored me and trotted after the admiral.

  The ballista crews all got to work, and the Hemari got the order to make ready. The Hurdu sent men riding back up the road and formed up to oppose us. The boatswain ordered longboat swung out.

  “Is that the best you can do?” I asked him as I judged the time it would take to row 20,000 men ashore.

  “This is your party,” he said. “Will you be going ashore as well?”

  “Immediately,” I said, and he led me to the closest longboat. He gestured for me to climb. It was no small thing, stepping over and down, but I managed it without embarrassing myself. The boat filled with sailors and soldiers, including my lieutenant. He was the only other true Hemari aboard.

  The boat fell. The ropes shrieked and those aboard yelled for their lives. We met the river with a great jarring splash. I was slammed down and flung up as the longboat bobbed in the water.

  “Fastest I could manage,” the boatswain called over the rail. The boatswain disappeared before I could respond, and the sailors took their places at the oars.

  “Do
n’t sit there with your cocks in your hands, landsmen,” the senior boatman yelled from the tiller. “Get to the oars.”

  I scrambled with the rest to swing the long arm of an oar over and out without smashing someone in the face. One of the sailors had to help me get mine seated. A great deal of swearing occurred before the boatman called the first stroke.

  The work got my blood moving the right speed, but the sight of the war galley behind us kept me from warming. I shivered at the thought of that beast bearing down upon us or to have one of the heavy bolts sent smashing through our thin boat.

  I closed my eyes as we rowed and tried to focus on the bloody work ahead. I ended up with Emi’s drawing in my mind and gave the image life. The dots of Yarik’s forces move where they must. He would not send mounted Hurdu onto the wall. They would race down the road at us. The opportunity for us to overwhelm the men upon the wall was there.

  “We drink wine in the palace tonight, boys,” I said and they growled against the oars.

  “Beach coming. Two strokes,” the boatman warned. “The Hurdu are right on top of us.”

  We ground to a halt and the longboat pitched a bit left.

  “Over the side, quick as you can,” I called as my lieutenant leapt over with oar still in hand. I made it over the side and was treated to knee deep water and a view of dismounted Hurdu rushing down the slope at us. They had my thirty men grossly outnumbered and were lined up well with poleaxes aimed.

  The melee was joined ten paces forward of the longboat, but the spears of the freemen were no match for poleaxe and plate armor. My lieutenant clubbed one man on the left to the ground, but his next swing was bound up in the mix of pike heads and yanked from his hands. I got my sword free, but it was useless against the wall of steel marching down toward us.

  A Hurdu pike trust forward and caught the gap in my left armpit. I felt the sting as the pikehead bit me and I tumbled back before a second thrust did real damage.

  “Fire,” came a call from behind us. A sailor swore and tackled me into the side of the longboat.

  I did not get the chance to yell at him before the shriek of iron bolts shocked my ears. They pinged and banged into the steel wall of the Hurdu, and screams filled the air. I stole a glance around the longboat to see three of their number run through with the iron bolts. A dozen more had been knocked over.

  “Come closer,” I heard someone call across the water. “Please. One of our bolts missed. Come on ...”

  The sun had found a break in the clouds and it lit up the ballista crews along the deck. They were already fitting new bolts into place and working the winches. Other ships were swinging into place, and soon there would be fifty of them aim at the road.

  “Clear out of the way, boys,” I shouted. “Another flight coming fast.”

  The Hurdu fled, while their commander yelled in vein at them. He turned away from them and came straight at me.

  The freemen Hemari took him from right and from left, angry as bees. They had him on his back before he could turn his pike, and three men stood upon his chest while the rest worked their spears and knives into his groin and armpits.

  I did not get a chance to cheer them as the boatswain made good his claim and let loose another volley of bolts at the fleeing Hurdu. One breastplate rung like a gong and the sound must have carried clear across the city.

  Even the boiled old sailor beside me paused to consider his mortality as we looked up at the twisted remains. One man had his hip and leg torn off, and his guts had spiraled out of his body. Blood poured down the brown rocks at us.

  I got farther ashore and looked once up and down the rocky beach. Our first wave of longboats had delivery three hundred men ashore. One Hemari’s neck had been hewed opened by the blade of a pike, but I could see no other casualties. The longboats started back for another load, and the ballistas began to send ropes over the wall.

  “Captain,” I said down the beach, hoping a proper Hemari would step forward. What I got instead was a Kuetish freeman bearing the yellow circle of the ill-formed 6th with a cluster of yellow ribbons upon his breast. I had seen the ribbons before but never as many, and reason for the designation remained a mystery.

  “Name?”

  “Lieutenant Natan.”

  “You and those with you can follow orders?”

  “We can, sir. We defeated the Hurdu upon Tin Bridge. We’ve fought beside Hemari, and every one of us will finish our fifty days. I lived on the same row with Emilia. Tell her my name and that I yet live, should you—”

  “Enough. I need men up the ropes,” I said. “The fastest and the strongest, knives and teeth. Take the top of the wall and defend it at all costs while I send up the rest. I want that wall.”

  He handed his spear to another man and started across the road and up a rope. The freemen around him followed, and their silence was more stunning than the report of the ballista.

  I watched them climb longer than I should have. Someone above cut a rope and Natan fell. He bounced off the road with a crunch.

  “More ropes,” I yelled back at the ships while another load of men started ashore. A trio of guardsmen snatched up Natan and carried him down to the shore as though they could somehow save him.

  “The yellow ribbons pinned to him,” I asked my lieutenant. “What are they?”

  “One for each wound earned in battle. They’ll carry his broken body back to the fortress and if he makes it until the morning’s dose of the blue, he’ll be given a seventh. The goddess cuts up her bloody dress and shares it out to those who have bled for the Warrens.”

  As Natan’s body went down, the men wet their fingers with his blood and smeared it across their foreheads.

  It chilled my bone. I’d never be rid of these devils, no matter how hard I flung them at the palace.

  Back down the road, the Hurdu were reforming. “We need to block their advance. Get these road stones pulled up and build a wall across the approach.”

  “Do we have enough time for that?” another asked.

  I did not know how to answer, and wished I’d spent a few more moments with Rahan and Emi. They would have perfect knowledge of us, but I would have no good idea of their situation. Sewin and Blathebed would have to sort out that end of things. Yarik and his generals were somewhere on the far side of the Ribbon and I had a few things to discuss with them.

  A freeman waved down from the top of the wall as the first wave made it up. There must have only been a handful of Hemari there, and I took some comfort in having been right at least once that day.

  “You are in command here, lieutenant. Built that wall road and keep men coming up as fast as the ropes will allow. I’m going up.”

  “Up, sir? It will be a dicey affair getting back down the wall once Rahan signals a retreat.”

  “I’m not coming back down the wall. I mean to keep it.”

  He looked like he wanted to tell me we’d been ordered differently, but the desire behind his smile was the same as mine. He turned and got his men moving.

  I hurried to the nearest unoccupied rope, hurried out of my armor, and started up. The wound on my side stung, but if Natan could survive until the morning, than so could I.

  Two freemen hauled me over when I reached the top, and I took in the scene. Below us, Sewin’s war galleys were ferocious, bolts ranging in onto the Hurdu faster than I could count them. My lieutenant had a shield wall organized across the road and the heavy road stones were being stack behind them in concert with the fast-working ballistas. Above, we had control of the Ribbon all the way north to the next garrison tower.

  The wall around me was our. Freemen along it north halfway around to the palace, and straight south of me they had a knot of 1st division Hemari surrounded.

  “Hold there,” I called and ran toward the action. “Hold!”

  The freemen backed off, and the men of the 1st came to a weary and uncertain stop.

  I got between them and found the captain responsible for the stalwart stand.
<
br />   “I am Evand Yentif,” I said to him, “and I call all Hemari my brothers. Join me, sir. Give me your garrison, and today we end this war.”

  The captain said nothing, and those with him looked at each other.

  I said to them, “We cannot let the Hemari fall to the condition of mercenaries. I fight for more than coin. I fight to preserve the Zoviya that raised me. Can you say the same? Do you fight for more than coin?”

  The captain, a Bellion perhaps, was my age. We’d been to the same academy and had heard the same lectures and been swept into the same embrace of structure and form.

  “Join me, Hemari,” I said and offer him my hand. He began to lower his sword.

  “General, look there,” a freeman said and pointed southeast below the wall. The gates were open, and Hurdu by the thousands were riding in. I’d forgetting the width of the lawns. Even if the wall garrison joined me and we secured the walls all the way around the palace and the Deyalu, we could not fight our way across the wide lawns through the Hurdu.

  “Today is not your day, Evand,” the captain said and saluted me with his sword before settling back into a ready stance. “Let’s be done with this.”

  “I will not fight you, sir. Never in my lifetime will I willing spill Hemari blood. Withdraw into the tower, and I will quit the wall. The only person who benefits from our deaths is Yarik and the Urmandish vandals who hold his leash.”

  “Farewell, then,” he said, and he hurried his outnumbered men to safety.

  I saluted him as he closed the door and ordered my men to withdraw.

  Back in a longboat, I discovered my left side sticky from the wound beneath my arm. It was bleeding freely and I would need a touch of blue as bad as Natan if I didn’t get it dressed soon.

  We were outmatched. All of it was madness.

  Rahan would lose Bessradi and his head if he did not listen to me.

  23

  Emi

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