war.
Tumbling, rolling, sprawling out onto a scree of rubble on the main floor of the palace – chambers to their left had vanished beneath the section of tower that had broken off. Corabb saw a leg jutting from the collapsed ceiling, strangely unmarred, free even of blood or dust.
Coughing, Corabb clambered upright, eyes stinging, countless bruises upon his body, and stared at Leoman, who was already on his feet and brushing mortar dust from his clothes. Near him, L'oric and Dunsparrow were also pulling themselves free of bricks and shards of wood.
Glancing over, Leoman of the Flails said, 'Maybe the tower wasn't such a good idea after all. Come on, we need to saddle our horses – if they still live – and ride to the Temple!'
The Temple of Scalissara? But- what- why?
The rattle of gravel, the thump of larger chunks, and gusts of smoky, dusty heat. Bottle opened his eyes. Sebar husks, hairy and leathery, crowded his vision, his nose filling with the pungent overripe scent of sebar pulp. The fruit's juice was considered a delicacy – the reek was nauseating – he knew he'd never be able to drink the stuff again.
A groan from the rubbish somewhere to his left. 'Cuttle? That you?'
'The numb feeling's gone. Amazing what a shot of terror can do to a body.'
'You sure the leg's still there?'
'Reasonably.'
'You counted down to eight!'
'What?'
'You said eight! Then – boom!'
'Had to keep your hopes up, didn't I? Where in Hood's pit are we, anyway?'
Bottle began clawing his way free, amazed that he seemed uninjured – not even a scratch. 'Among the living, sapper.' His first view of the scene on the killing ground made no sense. Too much light – it had been dark, hadn't it? Then he saw soldiers amidst the rubble, some writhing in pain, others picking themselves up, covered in dust, coughing in the foul air.
The breach on Y'Ghatan's south wall ran a full third of its length, fifty paces in from the southwest bastion to well beyond the centre gate fortifications. Buildings had collapsed, whilst those that remained upright, flanking the raging flames of the gap, were themselves burning, although it seemed that most of that had come from the innumerable burners among the sapper-kits left behind. The fires danced on cracked stone as if seeking somewhere to go before the fuel vanished.
The light cast by the aftermath of the detonation was dimming, shrouded by descending dust. Cuttle appeared at his side, plucking scraps of rotted fruit from his armour. 'We can head into that gap soon – gods, when I track down Crump-'
'Get in line, Cuttle. Hey, I see Strings… and the squad…'
Horns sounded, soldiers scrambling to form up. Darkness was closing in once more, as the last of the fires dwindled in the breach. The rain of dust seemed unending as Fist Keneb moved to the rally position, his officers drawing round him and bellowing orders. He saw Tene Baralta and Captain Lostara Yil at the head of a narrow column that had already begun moving.
The sappers had messed up. That much was clear. And some of them had not made it back. Damned fools, and they weren't even under fire.
He saw the fires guttering out in the gap, although webs of flame clung stubbornly to the still-upright buildings to either side. '
First, second and third squads,' Keneb said to Captain Faradan Sort. '
The heavies lead the way into the breach.'
'The marines are already through, Fist.'
'I know, Captain, but I want backup close behind them if things get hairy. Get them moving.'
'Aye, Fist.'
Keneb glanced back to the higher ground on the other side of the road and saw a row of figures watching. The Adjunct, T'amber, Nil and Nether. Fist Blistig and Warleader Gall. Fist Temul was likely out with his horse-warriors, ranging round the city on the other sides.
There was always a chance Leoman would leave his followers to their grisly fate and attempt to escape on his own. Such things were not unknown.
'Sergeant Cord!'
The soldier strolled up. Keneb noted the sigil of the Ashok Regiment on the man's battered leather armour, but elected to ignore it. For now. 'Lead the mediums in, seventh through twelfth squads.'
'Aye, Fist, we're dogging the heavies' heels.'
'Good. This will be street and alley fighting, Sergeant, assuming the bastards don't surrender outright.'
'I'd be surprised if they did that, Fist.'
'Me too. Get going, Sergeant.'
Finally, some motion among the troops of his company. The waiting was over. The Fourteenth was heading into battle. Hood look away from us this night. Just look away.
Bottle and Cuttle rejoined their squad. Sergeant Strings carried his lobber crossbow, a cusser quarrel slotted and locked.
'There's a way through the flames,' Strings said, wiping sweat from his eyes, then spitting. 'Koryk and Tarr up front. Cuttle to the rear and keep a sharper in your hand. Behind the front two, me and Smiles.
You're a step behind us, Bottle.'
'You want more illusions, Sergeant?'
'No, I want your other stuff. Ride the rats and pigeons and bats and spiders and whatever in Hood's name else is in there. I need eyes you can look through into places we can't see.'
'Expecting a trap?' Bottle asked.
'There's Borduke and his squad, dammit. First into the breach. Come on, on their heels!'
They sprinted forward across the uneven, rock-littered ground.
Moonlight struggled through the dust haze. Bottle quested with his senses, seeking life somewhere ahead, but what he found was in pain, dying, trickling away beneath mounds of rubble, or stunned insensate by the concussions. 'We have to get past the blast area,' he said to Strings.
'Right,' the sergeant replied over a shoulder. 'That's the idea.'
They reached the edge of the vast, sculpted crater created by Crump's munitions. Borduke and his squad were scrambling up the other side, and Bottle saw that the wall they climbed was tiered with once-buried city ruins, ceilings and floors compressed, cracked, collapsed, sections of wall that had slid out and down into the pit itself, taking with them older layers of floor tiles. He saw that both Balgrid and Maybe had survived the explosion, but wondered how many sappers and squad mages they had lost. Some gut instinct told him Crump had survived.
Borduke and his squad were having a hard time of it.
'To the right,' Strings said. 'We can skirt it and get through before them!'
Borduke heard and twisted round from where he clung to the wall, three quarters of the way up. 'Bastards! Balgrid, get that fat butt of yours moving, damn you!'
Koryk found a way round the crater, clambering over the rubble, and Bottle and the others followed. Too distracted for the moment by the effort of staying on his feet, Bottle did not attempt to sense the myriad, minuscule life beyond the blast area, in the city itself. Time for that later, he hoped.
The half-blood Seti's progress halted suddenly, and the mage looked up to see that Koryk had encountered an
