Corthie abandoned himself to his battle-vision, his limbs moving automatically, but he wasn’t fighting greenhides in the wastes beyond the Great Wall, and within moments, the professional soldiers were flanking round his sides to surround him, their shields raised. He glanced back at the track, but Van was nowhere to be seen, and then he had to concentrate on nothing more than staying alive as the ring around him began to close in.
He had made a mistake. If he had been wearing his old set of steel armour, and had been wielding the Clawhammer, then it would have been different, but his back and his limbs were unprotected against the swords of the Banner soldiers.
‘Cut him down,’ cried an officer, ‘and every man here will receive his share of the reward!’
A loud roar rose up from the yard. At first, Corthie thought it had come from the soldiers around him, but then he noticed many of them glancing back towards the track in alarm. It was the mob. Hundreds of armed civilians were flooding the yard, pushing the Banner soldiers back, and the lines of soldiers bent, buckled, then broke under the pressure. They tried to retreat from the yard, but many were cut down as they fled, the mob’s momentum unstoppable.
‘You idiot,’ cried Van, as he reached Corthie’s side. ‘Were you trying to get yourself killed?’
Corthie lowered his sword, panting. ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’ He pointed at the fleeing soldiers as they scattered back towards Old Alea. ‘And look, it worked.’
‘Only because I ran back and told the civilians to move their asses.’
‘You did that? Thanks.’
The yard was packed with armed civilians, and they cleared a space around Corthie and Van.
‘You asked them to follow you,’ said Van. ‘Now you’ll have to lead them.’
Corthie turned to gaze up at the high cliffs of Old Alea. ‘What’s next?’
‘The garrison had a fort at the base of the promontory, but it was next to the ocean, and most of it will be under water. The start of the ramp that leads up the slope emerges from the gates of the fortress, and this whole side of the cliffs has a low wall at the bottom to stop anyone getting to the ramp any other way.’
‘Can we climb this wall?’
‘Yes. It has no parapet, but once we’re past it, we’ll be in range of the ballistae up on the walls at the top of the cliff. If you lead the civilians that way, it will be a massacre.’
‘Take us there,’ said Corthie; ‘I want to see for myself.’
* * *
An hour later, Corthie, Van, and several hundred civilians reached an area where the ground had been cleared. The slums of the Shinstran district came to an abrupt halt twenty yards from the low wall that Van had mentioned. To their right, the high battlements of the garrison fortress towered above the roofs of the slum dwellings, and the line of the ramp was visible as it snaked up the side of the cliff towards Old Alea. Corthie told the gang leaders to wait in the shadows of the slums, and he and Van ran to the low wall, and climbed up to take a look. Beyond, a large garden had been laid out next to the steep cliffside, but it looked as though it had been neglected for years, and was overgrown and withered.
‘Every inch of land here,’ said Van, ‘can be seen by the soldiers up on the battlements, and the walls on this side of Old Alea have dozens of ballistae, designed to repel any uprising by the locals.’ He pointed up, and Corthie squinted into the darkness. At the top of the ramp was a huge gatehouse, its strong gates firmly closed.
‘What about the other sides?’ he said. ‘Are they unprotected?’
‘Yes, but for the simple reason that it’s impossible to climb up any of them.’
‘It can’t be impossible.’
‘You and I might be able to scale the cliffs, but then we’d reach the wall at the top, and there’s no way through that.’
‘Then we’ll have to charge the gatehouse.’
‘It would be a slaughter, Corthie. The civilians wouldn’t get halfway up the ramp.’
They jumped off the wall, landing back onto the side of the Shinstran district.
‘We have no choice,’ said Corthie. ‘We can’t just sit here and wait to die.’
Van nodded, his eyes dark, then his body shook and he fell to one knee.
‘Van!’ cried Corthie.
The mercenary glanced up, his eyes glazed over. ‘Hello, nephew.’
Corthie stumbled back a step, his eyes wide.
‘I only have a minute, so listen carefully.’
‘Sable? What the… How…?’
‘How do you think, nephew? I’m in his mind; a place I’ve visited several times. I’m on my way, but it’ll be another hour or so before I reach Alea Tanton; I’m just having a quick break, and thought I’d try to find you. Forget your stupid plan; all it will do is get you and Van killed, and dear old Aila would be most upset, not to mention Kelsey.’
‘You’ve seen them? They’re alive?’
‘Alive and well, nephew. Now, listen to me. There is another way up onto the promontory, one that I spotted months ago when I was living there. I know it works, because I sent Millen that way when he needed to escape from Old Alea.’
‘Millen?’
‘Never mind. I’ve imprinted the route into Van’s brain, so that when he awakes, he’ll
