be halted, but then they gathered themselves, as Ants always did, and surged back up.
‘Hold!’ Kymon shouted once again and, miraculously, something went out of the Vekken advance. Abruptly the men attacking the breach were no longer backed by hundreds of others. The Ant attention had been somehow split.
He felt something strike him in the chest, clipping the rim of his shield. At the base of his vision he could see the quilled end of a crossbow bolt that had driven through his mail. It seemed to hurt far less than it should.
His line was failing, even though all the Ants beyond the foot of this hill of rubble were turning north, trying to move out of the way but constricted by their neighbours, their minds all obviously sharing the same focus.
Something struck him in the head, ringing from his helm, and he found himself falling back. no, Stenwold had him. Stenwold and his Sarnesh bodyguard, carrying him back.
‘The line. ’ he managed to gasp.
‘Hold still,’ Stenwold told him. There was more said but, although the Beetle’s lips moved, Kymon could hear none of it.
He drew his breath to demand that Stenwold speak up, but there was no breath to draw, and he understood that the bolt had pierced his mail, had pierced his lungs, perhaps. The sky above them was growing dark far faster than the oncoming night alone could have managed.
He sent his mind out, futilely, for some last contact with his own kind, but he was the last man of Kes remaining within the walls of Collegium, and when he died, even clasped in Stenwold’s arms, he died alone.
Stenwold looked to the line, then, but incredibly it still held, and the Ants seemed to be trying to retreat, and there was a great cheer that Sarn had come, Sarn had come at last. Stenwold rushed forwards, and in his mind’s eye there was a vast host of Sarnesh soldiers crowding the horizon, but instead he saw merely the shapes of Sarnesh automotives powering towards the breach in the wall. There were two still moving, and the caved-in wreck of a third some distance back, where the Vekken artillery had found it. The remaining two were driving in at top speed, though, their clawed tracks chewing up the dusty, bloody earth, and he saw the Vekken soldiers at the fore linking shields, bracing themselves ridiculously against the charge.
Artillery began bursting around them, and Stenwold saw one of the machines take a terrific blow that stove in one side and yet did not stop it moving. The machines were loosing their own weapons now, repeating ballista bolts smashing the Ant shield-wall full of holes. The Vekken had a siege tower out there, half-extended, and the undamaged automotive struck it a terrible blow that dented the whole front of the machine, but smashed the tower’s lifting gear totally, spilling men and broken machinery in its wake.
Stenwold wanted to close his eyes as they struck, but he could not — he could only stare. The Vekken artillery was smashing into its own infantry in its haste to destroy the automotives, and then the unstoppable momentum of the machines had taken them right into the main block of soldiers, and hundreds of the Vekken shieldmen were simply crushed beneath them.
The damaged machine was meanwhile slewing away from the city, one of its tracks jammed, and a moment later Stenwold saw fire break out around it, the fuel tanks for its engine catching light. The Vekken were fleeing from it, and it exploded, scything through them with jagged metal. The final machine was still driving for the breach, scattering the Vekken in its wake. A leadshotter struck it a glancing blow, spinning it round so that it was facing away from the city, and Stenwold saw Vekken Ants climbing onto it, swarming over it like their very namesakes, and prying hatches open.
With a final effort, the last of the Sarnesh Lorn detachment threw its tracks into reverse and began to climb the rubble backwards. The Vekken had clawed their way on board before it was halfway up, and Balkus grabbed Sten-wold’s arm and pulled him back, fearful for his safety.
Doctor Nicrephos was waiting for them, the frail old Moth looking impossibly out of place so close to the front line. ‘It is time!’ he was shouting. ‘We must go!’
‘Anywhere but here,’ Balkus agreed.
Stenwold looked back to see the last automotive slew backwards into the breach, using its armoured length to bridge the gap in the wall. There was a thump and flare from inside that must be a grenade going off, and then the mauled machine fell still.
Beyond the wall the Vekken began to retreat to their camp for the night, but they would be back again in the morning, perhaps for the last time.
The Fly-kinden, Kori, ducked in and closed the door solidly behind him. In the moment it was open they could all hear the distant sound of exploding grenades.
‘Well this is lovely!’ he exclaimed. ‘I do hope the Empire sends us someplace nice like this again!’ He hooked his cloak off and cast it into the corner of the taproom. They had the taverna to themselves after the owner had gone off to fight.
‘You’ve taken your time,’ Gaved snapped. ‘We’d about given up on you.’
‘Big city, Wasp-boy, so even a man as talented as me takes time to get around it. And this whole Ant invasion gets in the way sometimes.’ Kori stretched. ‘Someone get me something to drink. I feel a need to toast the Emperor.’
‘Over a fire, no doubt,’ muttered Eriphinea the Moth. She slung him a wineskin, which he caught on the wing while hopping up onto a table.
‘Have you located it?’ Scyla demanded of him. The other two were also on their feet now, waiting for his report.
‘Relax, I’ve found the building,’ the Fly assured them. ‘Private collection? Barred and bolted, more like. No simple job to get in. Briskall, the old hoarder, he’s obviously gone to ground with all his treasures. Won’t come out until the siege is over, or the Vekken come to break down his doors.’
‘Can
‘I’m the knees with locks,’ Kori told her. ‘I’m the utter knees. I’m more worried about finding our trinket once we get in there.’
‘Don’t forget,’ Scyla said disdainfully, ‘we can’t miss it. That’s an imperial guarantee.’
‘Oh sure, sure.’
‘We’ll have no difficulties locating it,’ the Moth insisted flatly. That silenced them, and they stared at her. Her blank eyes gave them nothing back.
‘Would you care to qualify that, Phin?’ Gaved asked her.
‘Not in any way that you could comprehend,’ she said, not harshly but as a simple statement of fact. ‘He knows.’ She pointed at Scyla. The Spider, finding their attention on her, scowled.
‘She’s right,’ Scyla said shortly. ‘We’ll know it. Her and me.’
‘Well whatever,’ said Kori. ‘You sniff it out, and I’ll get us in, and the Wasp here can watch the door. We have the place and the means.’
‘Let’s go, then,’ Gaved said.
‘Let’s wait till dusk, shall we, so people don’t see us housebreaking,’ Kori suggested.
‘There’s a war on! Who’s going to care?’ the Wasp demanded.
‘Night-time is always better,’ Scyla said. ‘In war they kill looters out of hand, in my experience, which is just what we’d look like.’
‘Darkness is always best,’ Eriphinea confirmed.
The Wasp threw up his hands. ‘Nightfall it is,’ he said. ‘Always assuming we can even get the thing out of the city.’
‘Neither Ants nor Beetles fly, so they seldom watch for fliers,’ Scyla reminded them. ‘We got in. We can get out.’
‘Unless what they say about Ant women is true,’ Kori said.
‘And what is that?’ Phin asked him archly.
‘That they can fly non-stop for a whole night the first time you knock them up.’ The Fly grinned lewdly.
‘And you believe that?’
‘No, but I could have a lot of fun putting it to the test.’ He rubbed his hands. ‘And we’ve got a few pleasant hours to wait, assuming the Vekken don’t kill us. Anything to eat around here?’
‘Are you sure this is the place?’ Stenwold asked.
‘Yes, yes,’ Doctor Nicrephos insisted. ‘You cannot understand, but I am driven — drawn — and I know not by
