Promise of Blood

Bo gave Gavril an annoyed look. “She’s not to be underestimated either,” he said. “She may be weakened by our fight. She took a beating up on that mountaintop that would have killed half a royal cabal. Not to mention the fall. She probably left a crater in the ground where she hit.”

A murmur went through the troops lining the bulwark. Taniel went to the edge to look over. He was joined by Gavril and Bo.

Squinting through the glare, Taniel could see the foot of the mountain writhing with motion. The whole army had moved up during the night, just out of bombardment range. It seemed like one giant, unorganized mass, but as Taniel watched, it began to form into ranks. He saw them then, the banners of the Kez Cabal. They were huge as bedsheets beside a shirt compared with the banners of the nobility and the royal house. They rose, aided by sorcery, above the Kez ranks, untouched by wind, their broad sides pointed toward the Watch. They displayed a white snake in a field of grain that was the Kez symbol of power. The snake writhed and moved as Taniel watched. Sorcery again. The snake’s mouth opened, and it spit venom toward the mountain fortress.

Taniel glanced at Bo.

“Tricks,” Bo said. “Illusions. Nothing dangerous. Yet.”

“Right.”

The Privileged Tower began to creep up the road. Soldiers poured past it on either side, marching in step, the steady snare of the drummer boys reverberating up the mountain, the creak of harnesses as a thousand horses began to pull cannons. A trumpet sounded. The ascent began.

Up until now there had been feints and prods, a few companies of soldiers rushing the bulwark and then falling back to the relative safety of the natural breastworks created by the roads cut into the side of the mountain. Adran soldiers in the outer redoubts had retreated several times, but retaken their redoubts without a fight each time when the enemy fell back.

Taniel could tell this was no feint. The real attack had begun. There would be no rest until one side was destroyed.

He felt a tug at his sleeve. Ka-poel pulled him to the side and offered him a satchel. It was the size of a cannonball and felt as heavy as one.

“What the pit, Pole? Ugh, what is this?” He set the bag on the ground and looked inside. It was full of bullets, enough for half a unit. He frowned at Ka-poel. “Thanks?”

Ka-poel rolled her eyes. She struck her fist to her chest—a symbol she used for Privileged, and then mimed shooting a rifle. Taniel felt a smile slowly spread on his face as he began to understand.

“What’s that?” Bo asked, looking over Ka-poel’s shoulder.

“Bullets,” Taniel said. He pulled one out and held it up to the light. It was a standard lead musket ball about the width of a man’s thumb. Upon closer inspection one could see a dark red band of color across the middle of the bullet. Bo reached for the ball, which Taniel snatched back. “You don’t want to touch this,” he said. “It’s a redstripe.”

Bo gave the bullet a skeptical look. “A what?”

“These have been charmed by a Bone-eye—the Dynize sorcerers,” Taniel said. “We used these in the Fatrastan war. Killed a number of Privileged with them.”

“How’s it charmed?” Bo said. He peered at the bullet, keeping his distance.

Taniel jerked his thumb at Ka-poel. “To cut through Privileged shields. Ask her if you want details. From what I understand, they take a lot of energy to make.” Taniel gave Ka-poel a look-over. He’d not known she could make these. They looked like the real article, and Ka-poel had bags under her eyes that indicated many nights spent working. Taniel realized he hadn’t seen her much the entire week. He’d been on the wall from sunup to sundown, eyes on the Kez.

Bo had the look of concentration he always had when he was using his third eye. “You said not to touch it,” he murmured, looking closer. “Do they do damage beyond, you know, the hole they make in a man’s head?”

“Yeah,” Taniel said. “One Fatrastan Privileged told me they burn at the touch. I can’t imagine that inside of you.”

“So it doesn’t need a direct hit,” Bo said thoughtfully. He straightened. “Why have I never heard of these before?”

“If you were the Kez, would you want it widely known that enchanted bullets could cut through your best defenses? If you were the Fatrastans, would you want to tip your hand at having an advantage?”

“Fatrastans could sell one bullet for a lot of money,” Bo said.

Taniel could practically hear the gears turning in Bo’s head. “Yeah, and then you’d find one coming for you one day.”

Bo smiled. “Probably would at that, wouldn’t I?” He still looked thoughtful. “I wouldn’t tell anyone else about those, if I were you.”

Gavril moved up beside them. “Taniel. The Privileged have begun to show themselves. Time to go to work. And you, Bo.” The big man snorted. “I want you slinging whatever you can at them the whole way up. The battle’s about to begin.”

A cannon blast punctuated his words and left Taniel’s ears ringing. Another followed in less than a few heartbeats, and then another.