plus a pair of company commanders and sergeant-majors—one hundred and sixty-six men—had gathered at the edge of Palace Road. The troopers wore black helmets, red jackets, black cuirasses, and black coveralls: Housecarls.
A whistle blew. The soldiers began to trot forward. Ahasz waited for a response from the Palace.
The Housecarls were halfway to the fountains when a cannon fired. The bolt was so bright it lit up the damage it caused. It hit three-quarters along the line. Soldiers exploded. Arms, legs, heads, innards—sprayed across comrades. The Housecarls continued to advance.
More cannons fired. Gouts of dirt geysered among gaps in the lines.
The Housecarls began to dodge and weave, trying to avoid the bolts from the Palace emplacements. Some jinked right into shots from the cannons, disappearing in eye-searing brightness, bodies detonating, blood jetting, limbs flying. Severed heads, still buckled into black helmets, rolled through ornamental borders. Hammers, hands still wrapped around shafts, fell to the ground.
Ahasz tried to persuade himself it was a necessary slaughter. He needed to know how many of the Palace’s defences remained intact.
Colonel Tayisa was back.
“Send a platoon down to the garage gates,” Ahasz told him. “See if they’ve closed them.”
A road depending from the roundabout at the end of Palace Road led towards the mountain, and disappeared into the rock through a pair of great arches. High nobles and members of the Imperial Court used that route.
Tayisa pulled a battlefield caster from his belt and murmured into it. A minute or two later, the syncopated tramp of boots sounded from further down the road. Ahasz glanced to his right, toward the monument, and saw troopers in red smocks and red helmets. Household troopers. The first trainload must have arrived, marched up from the station beneath the roundabout. It was unlikely they’d be able to effect entrance to the Palace via the garage, but it had to be checked.
The Housecarls on the slope below had reached the fountain basins. Cannon fire had reduced their numbers. Of the one hundred and sixty-six men Tayisa had sent to attack, Ahasz counted less than half that number remaining. They crouched behind the low parapet of the basins, hammers hugged to armoured chests, waiting for an opportunity to charge. Directed-energy beams from the Palace cut flashes through the mist and spray, detonated stone and earth where they hit. The fountains’ spume roiled and steamed, lit hellishly by the bright impaling bolts. Water in the basin geysered skywards as cannon bolts fell short, spouts springing up left and right.
Visibility degraded further. Mist and steam drifting through the darkness between spotlights obscured the Palace entrance and hid the Housecarls from the Palace cannons.
An officer leapt to his feet, sword held high. At a run, he followed the basin’s parapet to the left, around toward the steps leading up to the Palace entrance. His platoon followed. As soon as they were out of the concealing clouds, the Palace cannons fired. Two Housecarls went cartwheeling into the water, seemed to break apart as they flew, creating a line of splashes. The survivors ran on, but were cut down as they reached the steps.
“Tayisa,” Ahasz said. “Get some field-pieces unlimbered. Have them fire into the water and create more cover.”
In short order, the colonel had three cannons unloaded from an artillery carriage and pushed on their floating sleds to a position at the edge of the highway. On command, they fired into the fountains. A cloud of concealing steam formed. The soldiers hiding at the parapets looked back up to the highway and waved in gratitude. The firing stopped. The Housecarls below clambered into the water, began wading through it—
Something punched a soldier backwards. He hit the ground on his back. Another soldier stumbled backwards out of the mist. And another.
Advancing shapes appeared, insubstantial in the spray
A whistle blew. The soldiers began to trot forward. Ahasz waited for a response from the Palace.
The Housecarls were halfway to the fountains when a cannon fired. The bolt was so bright it lit up the damage it caused. It hit three-quarters along the line. Soldiers exploded. Arms, legs, heads, innards—sprayed across comrades. The Housecarls continued to advance.
More cannons fired. Gouts of dirt geysered among gaps in the lines.
The Housecarls began to dodge and weave, trying to avoid the bolts from the Palace emplacements. Some jinked right into shots from the cannons, disappearing in eye-searing brightness, bodies detonating, blood jetting, limbs flying. Severed heads, still buckled into black helmets, rolled through ornamental borders. Hammers, hands still wrapped around shafts, fell to the ground.
Ahasz tried to persuade himself it was a necessary slaughter. He needed to know how many of the Palace’s defences remained intact.
Colonel Tayisa was back.
“Send a platoon down to the garage gates,” Ahasz told him. “See if they’ve closed them.”
A road depending from the roundabout at the end of Palace Road led towards the mountain, and disappeared into the rock through a pair of great arches. High nobles and members of the Imperial Court used that route.
Tayisa pulled a battlefield caster from his belt and murmured into it. A minute or two later, the syncopated tramp of boots sounded from further down the road. Ahasz glanced to his right, toward the monument, and saw troopers in red smocks and red helmets. Household troopers. The first trainload must have arrived, marched up from the station beneath the roundabout. It was unlikely they’d be able to effect entrance to the Palace via the garage, but it had to be checked.
The Housecarls on the slope below had reached the fountain basins. Cannon fire had reduced their numbers. Of the one hundred and sixty-six men Tayisa had sent to attack, Ahasz counted less than half that number remaining. They crouched behind the low parapet of the basins, hammers hugged to armoured chests, waiting for an opportunity to charge. Directed-energy beams from the Palace cut flashes through the mist and spray, detonated stone and earth where they hit. The fountains’ spume roiled and steamed, lit hellishly by the bright impaling bolts. Water in the basin geysered skywards as cannon bolts fell short, spouts springing up left and right.
Visibility degraded further. Mist and steam drifting through the darkness between spotlights obscured the Palace entrance and hid the Housecarls from the Palace cannons.
An officer leapt to his feet, sword held high. At a run, he followed the basin’s parapet to the left, around toward the steps leading up to the Palace entrance. His platoon followed. As soon as they were out of the concealing clouds, the Palace cannons fired. Two Housecarls went cartwheeling into the water, seemed to break apart as they flew, creating a line of splashes. The survivors ran on, but were cut down as they reached the steps.
“Tayisa,” Ahasz said. “Get some field-pieces unlimbered. Have them fire into the water and create more cover.”
In short order, the colonel had three cannons unloaded from an artillery carriage and pushed on their floating sleds to a position at the edge of the highway. On command, they fired into the fountains. A cloud of concealing steam formed. The soldiers hiding at the parapets looked back up to the highway and waved in gratitude. The firing stopped. The Housecarls below clambered into the water, began wading through it—
Something punched a soldier backwards. He hit the ground on his back. Another soldier stumbled backwards out of the mist. And another.
Advancing shapes appeared, insubstantial in the spray
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