Ean nodded agreement.
***
"We will leave the war machines behind; they will only slow us down."
"But Sir," protested Commandant Treylfor, commander of Cadister's contribution, which included the war machines, "there will be nothing for the bombardiers to do."
"Marka is surrounded by hundreds of siege engines; I intend to capture some and use them. Besides, Grayar cannot project all of us and the war machines together." This last was a lie, but Kelanus had no intention of being slowed by the mangonels. "They are difficult enough to maneuver at the best of times, and these are not the best. We'll capture enemy machines, but until then we need those bombardiers to keep up with the main force."
Treylfor lowered his voice. "Does this information come from the sylphs? Even if it is accurate, it's hopelessly out of date now. They claim they made it here in three weeks, but it probably took them twice as long." His voice lowered even further. "I know sylphs, you understand; they have a tendency to exaggerate things."
Kelanus smiled. "Not these sylphs," he countered. "I used to think as you do, and learned a lesson."
Neptarik reinforced his commander's words with a stare. Humans always refused to believe his race's capabilities. Until shown otherwise.
Grayar spoke. "We must move immediately. There is not much time."
"We need a conference first," insisted Kelanus.
Balnus nodded his agreement. The four commanders of the various armies were present, together with their captains. They seemed resigned to command under the Vintner Banner. Kelanus continued.
"You are right to fear that my information is obsolete; of course it is out of date. However, my intelligence will be updated almost immediately we arrive."
"How?" demanded an anonymous Captain.
Smiling, Kelanus pointed to Neptarik. "By these sylphs you are so quick to dismiss. I have four scouts at my disposal. Neptarik will stay with me as my messenger and the other three will scout ahead."
"To discover what?" asked Treylfor.
"To communicate." Kelanus silently thanked Grayar for his information. "The moment we turn up, we'll be spotted by scouts and our presence reported. Unless the scouts with us can prove otherwise, we'll be treated as hostile. There will naturally be an exchange of information and then we'll know exactly where to strike." He turned to Grayar. "Any idea where Lance Captain Kestan has based himself?"
"None," replied the silver haired man. "I can drop you halfway between the two gates, which should give you plenty of time to acquire the information you need and still give leeway for you to advance as necessary."
A frown briefly furrowed Kelanus's brow. "Marka has four gates."
"Two were blocked before the siege began." Grayar smiled. "A sensible precaution, recommended by Marshal Mikhan. A man clearly experienced in siege craft."
Kelanus nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. Very well, drop us between the two gates, but a mila or so distant. Nasty things might happen if we just appear." He turned back to his lieutenants. "This is how I want you to be arranged when Grayar shifts us..."
***
Lance Captain Kestan felt something approaching terror as he stared towards the intact but defeated South Gate of Marka. Tilipha stood at his side, thrilled to be messenger, a trusted position usually held by a more experienced Vintner scout. Dekran remained by the North Gate. The flow of information from Tilipha was almost continuous.
"They are in Coronation Hall... The defenders hold most of the city, but the Emperor is a prisoner..."
"Which one?" asked Kestan, quietly.
"Zenepha." The sylph's voice rose. "The war machines are falling back all around the city!" His eyes, glowing in the dark, turned excitedly to Kestan.
"I'm afraid it doesn't mean they're retreating." Kestan forced a smile, surprised at his ability to detect the unasked question. No wonder sylphs rarely spoke unless they must. "The enemy is convinced he's won the city." He tried to decide what best to do: whether to attack the enemy direct or not. As most of Hingast's men were still outside the city, ready for almost anything, the direct route would be certain suicide.
"The line is falling back," continued Tilipha, "Hingast pushes forward... He is winning the battle for the walls..."
Kestan let the gloomy intelligence wash over him, taking very little in. He had begun to despair when he heard that the Emperor was a prisoner, coming on the heels of the South Gate's fall. The scouts believed treachery had led to Zenepha's capture. As the war machines fell back, the glimmerings of a plan began to formulate in his mind.
"Donenya!" Kestan thought the sylph had injured himself, so deep was the pain in his voice. "An unknown army of many thousands is approaching and only now reported!"
"How far?"
Tilipha's eyes were wide with fright. "Less than a mila."
Kestan's hope died with his plan. "How many?" His voice remained calm and quiet.
"Thousands..."
"Ranva's balls! How did they avoid detection for so long?"
The sylph remained silent.
"Tilipha?"
The sylph kept his head to one side. All traces of fear vanished.
"Tilipha!"
The scout smiled.
Kestan had never before been so tempted to strike a sylph.
"Report, donenya. Four thousand five hundred infantry, one thousand horse, half a thousand artillerymen, together with scouts Ean-y-Felis, Kerfan-y-nebonda and Hepheta-y-nebonda. Reported by Neptarik-y-Balnus."
"Neptarik?" breathed Kestan.
"All under the command of General Kelanus, donenya."
Kestan recovered from his shock three seconds later. "Immediate to Kelanus," he snapped, mind suddenly cold and somehow detached. "And copy Dekran. Recommend one-third deployment to North Gate and report to Dekran. Other two-thirds to me."
As the sylph began to whistle, Kestan's instructions continued, almost nonstop. "Intelligence: South Gate penetrated, Hingast and two thousand enemy soldiers within; Emperor prisoner; war machines falling back beyond range of city. Strength of enemy is, approximately..."
Tilipha whistled on, never before having sent so long a message. Or one nearly so important.
As Kestan fed information to his old commander, hope rose once more.
***
Chapter 24
Marka Must Live
Jenn stirred and stretched, mouth opening in an expanding blue cavern as she yawned. She pushed her hands and feet as far as she could, tugging all her tendons into place, ready for work. She sat up, silvery gray eyes flickered open and her earpoints twitched before settling into their normal upright position. She had the sylph room to herself.
Sitting up, she pulled her smock over her head and padded into the apartment's main chamber, hoping for company. Despite meager rations, she felt energetic; after all, she had enjoyed a longer sleep than normal. She smiled at Eleka and her children, and nodded at the guards, their purple-lined cloaks shimmering as the men turned. There were more than usual.
Zandra stood in the center of the room, glaring at the officer of the guard. Jenn stared at the sword strapped around Zandra's waist. A gentle breeze from the open window ruffled her hair.
"You cannot stop me, Officer Naylrun." Determination rather than anger thickened Zandra's voice.
"My orders are to see you safe." The officer was not easily diverted.
"Your orders are to care for my family and sylphs," retorted the other. "Eleka, whistle the –"
"Belay that," Naylrun growled at the sylph.
"Eleka!"
The female sylph glanced once at Zandra, before crossing to the open window and putting her head back. Jenn heard the whistle, as would every sylph within earshot, but she only recognized the end of the message. Her eyes widened.
Zandra wagged a finger under Naylrun's nose. "Too late, the message is sent. All over Marka, fit and young women gather. Must these women face the enemy without their commander?"
Naylrun narrowed his ey
es. "You? This is planned right across the city?"
"Of course. Did you think we would stand by as Marka falls? Believe me, I'd far prefer it not to have come to this. But it has and you cannot stand in our way. Or in my way."
"Foolishness!" snapped the guardsman.
"Necessity," replied Zandra. "Are you going to stand aside?"
Eleka put a hand on Jenn's arm. "Care for them?" she asked, nodding to her children.
Jenn nodded her assent and received a squeeze.
"Ready?" Zandra turned to Eleka.
Naylrun nodded to three of his men, but he did not leave. He looked down at Jenn without really seeing her. Worry etched his face and the beginnings of fear lurked in his pale blue eyes. Abruptly, he focused on the sylph and all traces of emotion were driven away. He winked before turning on his heel and leaving the room.
Jenn looked down at Eleka's still-sleeping children and hoped none of them woke; she had no idea how to cope with younglings. At least she could call on Kaira if anything got too heavy for her.
***
Belaika-y-Marcus glanced at his owner and Jablon whickered, the warhorse aware of spilled blood. Marcus conversed with his senior officers and the scout listened while waiting for information from other scouts.
The battle raged all around and the screams of injured and dying men filled the night air. Arrows flew in all directions. Belaika kept his eyes open for missiles headed for his owner, ready to snatch them from the air or sacrifice himself if necessary.
"This is madness," said Marshal Mikhan. "If we advance on the Senate, the prisoners inside will die."
Marcus shook his head. "I have a plan," he countered. "I'm just waiting for a message." He turned to Belaika, who shook his head. "Still waiting."
Mikhan stared at his former enemy. "Not one you've shared with us."
"Better not, for it to work." Marcus forced his voice lower. "There may be traitors nearby, Marshal."
"I'll not attack the Senate until I know the prisoners are safe!"
"Enya!" cautioned Belaika.
"Is it?"
The scout shook his head again, but his silver eyes were wide with excitement. "Army just detected, the message is from Neptarik-y-Balnus. Commanded by General Kelanus."
Mikhan nodded. "Reinforcements at last. Wait... Kelanus?"
Marcus touched Mikhan's arm. "See those doors?" He pointed high on the disused warehouse. "When they open, attack the Senate. That is a direct order, Marshal."
The older man turned, his deepset eyes cold as he touched his fist to shoulder. "Se bata," he replied, in the manner of a sylph slave.
Marcus ignored Mikhan's rancor. The man barely recognized him as the victorious claimant. Worse, he had thrown all his support behind Zenepha, rather than transferring it to Marcus. The man hesitated now only because his precious Emperor was a prisoner. Perhaps he feared Marcus had a deeper, darker plan.
He had indeed thought of one, but rejected it almost immediately.
Marcus turned away from the old marshal and mounted Jablon. He raised his eyebrows to Belaika and again the sylph scout shook his head.
Mikhan looked from one to the other quizzically, annoyed to be excluded from whatever went on between Marcus and his scout.
Then, sudden confusion among the sylph scouts.
Belaika nodded.
Marcus smiled. "Marshal Mikhan. That message concerned more reinforcements. This time for us." He turned and ruffled Belaika's hair. "Stay with the Marshal."
"Se bata."
Marcus gave Mikhan a look that suggested a sylph for a sylph, surety for Zenepha's safety, before he turned Jablon and looked over his shoulder. "Remember, when those gates open, attack the Senate."
Mikhan nodded. "As you command." He still had doubts.
The man could hold all the doubt of the world as far as Marcus was concerned, so long as he obeyed.
A fresh army now came along the main thoroughfare of the city that stretched between the gates. From behind the line of defenders came a steady flow of women, all armed with a staff or pike, an ax or sword. They moved slowly and purposefully, masking lurking fear. Ready to defend their city and homes, preferring death to Hingast's rule. And Zandra strode at their head.
Mikhan swung around, gaze fixed on the doors above, waiting for them to open, snapping commands to his juniors without even looking at them. He drew his sword and held it aloft, waiting. This had better be a good order.
The doors swung open and banged uselessly against the warehouse wall.
"Advance!" he shouted, as he glimpsed Marcus above.
Encouraged by the presence of their womenfolk, the men pressed forward towards the Senate.
***
Marcus's plan began as a hope when he heard Zenepha was a prisoner in Coronation Hall. It only formulated into something more – a gamble rather than a plan – when he realized the enemy had not occupied the disused warehouse.
Jablon shouldered his way inside cheerfully enough and Marcus grinned when he saw the spiral edging, allowing horses to climb to the upper floors, remained intact. The beggars, who until recently had infested this building were gone. The detritus of their occupation littered the floor and sinabra still thickened the air.
If Marcus failed, the prisoners would die before Mikhan could liberate the building. That the murderers would not escape justice was a cold comfort. The blame would be laid at Marcus's door as well. He had got used to it.
Reaching the floor with the raised doorway, Marcus dismounted and patted Jablon. He crossed to the doors and pushed them open. He leaned out and waved to Mikhan below, pleased to see Mikhan immediately gave the order to attack. His heart leapt as he glimpsed Zandra, sword flashing as she and the womenfolk of Marka added their weight to the defense of the city.
Returning to Jablon, he mounted and drew his sword.
"In with your shoulder, lad," he murmured to the horse. He strongly suspected Jablon and perhaps himself had only moments left to live. "In with your shoulder." He booted the animal into a gallop.
The stained glass window depicting the Founding Mark's coronation burst inwards. Marcus's gaze flickered around the hall in the split second available before Jablon landed. Enemy soldiers guarded what appeared to be a clutch of senators and councilors. More stood over a huddle of prisoners. Djerana stared at this sudden appearance with frightened eyes. This was the first time he had seen her out of countenance. Blood from a couple of corpses slickened the floor.
Hingast held Zenepha with one hand and the other, raised, clutched a dagger. Back to Marcus, he already turned, eyes widening with surprise. Anybody not already facing it turned to the window.
Just as Jablon landed and shattered both forelegs on the floor, Marcus swung his sword; Hingast's head and most of his raised forearm came free from the rest of his body, still somersaulting in the air as the corpse began to drop.
Not everybody remained stunned to stillness.
Olista ducked under the reach of his guard and snatched up a sword. "To me!" he yelled, running the nearest enemy soldier through. Gior and two of his officers were also upright, ready to fight.
Amazed to have escaped serious injury, Marcus extricated himself from his screaming, mortally wounded horse. He swung at the nearest soldier, hoping all those he killed were the enemy. Many wore Markan uniforms.
"To me!" yelled Olista again, as he ran one of the treasonous senators through.
Zenepha, shaken but unbowed, joined his former master and Djerana hugged the Emperor, unable to stop tears of relief.
Marcus felt nothing when the Principal Chancellor, Senator Lanas, challenged him by raising his sword. He suspected treason as the reason why Zenepha became a prisoner in the first place and knew those traitors would hold positions of authority. He met the challenge.
***
Kelanus silently thanked Siranva that he had an experienced scout at his side. The continuous flow of information from the scouts allowed him to direct the battle outside the walls with greate
r ease than would otherwise be possible. Neptarik had experience and intelligence to sift through and prioritize the information. For a sylph, he knew the work well.
"Kestan has found thirty war machines not as heavily guarded as the rest," squeaked Neptarik, eyes alight as his earpoints twitched with excitement.
"Signal Kestan to operate under his own initiative," commanded Kelanus. "Direct Dekran to smash the group preparing to enter the North Gate. Treylfor to advance on the flank. Indelgar to concentrate on the other side of the city – harrying attacks only."
While Neptarik relayed the updated orders, Kelanus turned and viewed the field. The bulk of Cadister's infantry ranged behind, ready to advance on the South Gate and liberate Marka from her invaders. He needed war machines now.
"Kestan has captured his target," said Neptarik, voice still wild with the thrill of battle. Most normal sylphs struggled against terror in these situations, but the scouting corps attracted few normal sylphs. "Do you want them ranged halfway?"
"Yes. Tell Kestan to continue until I tell him otherwise." Kelanus had no need to tell the Lance Captain what to do now. He nodded to the bombardiers' commander, who pressed his men forward. The General knew that the mangonels would be ranged to a point halfway to Marka's walls, ready to cut down enemy soldiers as they began to retreat. As retreat they must; from the sylphs, Kelanus knew the women in Marka had added their weight to the defenders' strength.
He drew his sword and, all along the line of cavalry and infantry, junior officers followed his lead. The three columns advanced slowly, with sufficient space between to allow a panicking enemy to escape. Better to harry a fleeing enemy from behind than to corner him, where he would fight all the harder and inflict more damage than necessary.
"Enemy falling back in Marka!" called Neptarik, who easily kept pace with the horses. "And Hingast is dead."
Believe that when I see the corpse, reflected Kelanus.
Enemy soldiers formed up against him now, ready to attack his flanks and try to delay him. All expected and quickly brushed aside. Hingast had brought the largest army seen since the heyday of the Second Empire to Marka. Kestan's raids had depleted those forces a little.
Kelanus had an impressive army, which helped even the odds in Marka's favor. Sheer volume of numbers should carry the day. He could not allow complacency any part in his calculations; a sizable number of his soldiers were inexperienced, despite the Trading Council's assurances. Just so long as they were disciplined.