The Autumn Republic

Nila raised her head. The creaking of saddles and the jostling of weaponry suddenly reached her, and from the depth of the fog emerged hundreds of cuirassiers, their breastplates beaded with morning dew, carbines resting across their saddles.

Bo gave a groan and rolled out of her arms. He snatched the prosthetic from the stirrup and rolled up his pant leg. She caught sight of a leather harness attached to the healed, but ruined remnants of his knee. He strapped the prosthetic to the harness. Nila got to her feet, drying her cheeks, and helped Bo up and, at his insistence, back in the saddle.

A cuirassier rode forward holding the reins to Nila’s horse. “Privileged Nila,” he said, his voice booming in the quiet of the morning. “Thank Adom we found you.”

“Indeed,” was the only reply she could manage. Her knees felt like jelly beneath her, but she knew that this morning wasn’t over. She took the reins, never having thought she’d be so relieved to see a horse. Raising her voice, she said, “They have Colonel Olem. He couldn’t escape with me because they had flogged him half to death.”

An angry mutter spread through the cuirassiers. “Can you lead us to their camp?” one of them asked.

Nila closed her eyes, trying to picture every rise and valley she’d crossed in her desperate flight. It was a jumbled haze in her memory, but she knew the Kez cavalry that had chased her would leave a trail more easily followed.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 39

I never thought I’d see the day when I assaulted one of my own cities.”

Tamas stared at the walls of Budwiel. The city sat in the narrowest spot in Surkov’s Alley, flanked on either side by the immense, sheer cliffs called the Gates of Wasal. There was no way into the city but over those formidable granite walls, each stone protected by sorcery as old as the city itself. If not for what he now knew to be Hilanska’s treachery, the same walls on the south side of the city would have withstood months of bombardment by the Kez army.

And now Tamas had to take the city in a single day.

General Arbor eyed the city, leaning on his heavy cavalry saber the way a gentleman might lean on a cane. The ancient general looked older than ever, but there was an excited fire in his eyes. He flexed his jaw, popping his false teeth out into one hand. “Aye. It’ll be a pit of a fight.”

“Ipille has lined the walls with his personal guard,” Tamas said. “They’ll fight tooth and nail for their king. Once we breach the city walls, every street will be a bloodbath.”

“I can give you some good news on that,” Arbor said. “I’ve dug up Ket and Hilanska’s spy reports, and if they’re to be believed, the Kez have left few enough of our people inside unmolested. Most were slaughtered in the initial attack and the rest have been sold as slaves.”

“That’s the worst good news I’ve ever heard.” Tamas wanted to spit, but he knew it wouldn’t remove the bad taste in his mouth.

Arbor gave him a toothless grin. “Just trying to say that there’s no harm in shelling the city! You have to look at the bright side of these things, sir.”

“You’re not making me feel any better.”

Doubt assaulted Tamas on all sides. Where was Taniel? There hadn’t been word or sign of him yet. If he had succeeded in his task of rescuing Ka-poel, Tamas would have heard by now. He didn’t want to think of the alternatives.

Around Tamas, his camp swirled with motion. Artillery that they had sent south on the Addown River was being moved into position as earthen fortifications went up. Ladders and hooks, spare ammunition, and fresh rifles were all being unloaded from the barges. Tents had been pitched, and his tired men were taking shifts to get a couple hours’ rest before the attack.

Last night they had taken Midway Keep, making enough noise to draw Ipille’s personal guard out of Budwiel and into a half-dozen skirmishes throughout the earliest hours of the morning. The guard had slowed him down by a couple of hours before they retreated into the city, and now their silver conical helmets lined the tops of the walls three men deep.

A puff of smoke rose over the walls and a moment later Tamas heard the report of cannon fire. The ball slammed into the earth several hundred yards in front of Tamas’s foremost artillery pieces.

Arbor gave a mirthless chuckle. “Those walls aren’t designed to hold heavy cannon. They won’t be able to shoot back at us with anything bigger than short-range six-pounders.”

“I’m more worried about the grapeshot when we assault the walls,” Tamas replied. “More’s the pity that we don’t have time to wait them out. We’re going to have to charge straight into their teeth.”

“Really?” Arbor held his false teeth at arm’s length and picked something out from between them. “I’m all for a good charge, but we won’t hope to put a scratch in that wall today, not if we had fifty more cannon than we do. And, uh, no offense meant, sir, but sending twenty thousand men over those walls will be just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”