The Autumn Republic

Taniel loaded his rifle with two bullets and looked for the stripes of the grenadier commander, a captain. It was the man doing the questioning, and as Taniel watched, he leaned over and casually slit the throat of one of the Riflejacks.

Taniel’s bullets caught the grenadier captain in the right temple, and a sergeant, likely his second-in-command, in the stomach. Before Taniel could load more bullets, the grenadiers sprang into action. They readied their pikes and kicked rifles and powder horns away from them. These men were trained for fighting powder mages.

One ill-timed kick lost a grenadier his leg as the powder detonated. Taniel grinned, reloading his rifle as the Kez scrambled for cover. His next double-shot hit only one of his targets, taking the woman down with a gut shot. He heard one of the grenadiers shout in a language that was most definitely not Kez.

Was that Brudanian? Why would Kez soldiers be shouting in Brudanian? Taniel didn’t have time to think about it. Ten big Kez soldiers leapt from their cover and rushed Taniel’s knoll. None noticed as one of their number was gunned down from behind.

Taniel didn’t have time to finish loading another shot. He leapt to his feet, throwing another powder charge into his mouth and blocking the thrust of a pike with his rifle barrel. He was forced back, unable to counterattack due to the closeness of the trees, and helpless to do anything but watch the grenadiers flank him.

He let go of his rifle and leapt to the side as the soldier’s momentum carried him forward. Taniel drew his belt knife and rammed it between the grenadier’s ribs, thrusting the man aside and taking his pike, whirling to block the thrust of a saber.

He dispatched two more, taking a heavy cut above his brow that poured blood into his eye before Vlora joined the fight. She whirled through the remaining grenadiers with her short sword and a powder trance, giving her a huge advantage in speed in the close quarters, cutting down every remaining man in moments. By the time Taniel had wiped the blood from his face, the fight was over.

Winded and half-blinded, Taniel turned toward the sound of hoofbeats pounding up the road. He snatched up his rifle and loaded it, ready for the worst.

Gavril’s and Norrine’s horses stopped short of the slaughter, refusing to go any farther. Taniel could hear Gavril’s curses from the woods.

“Taniel!” Gavril yelled.

“Here,” he called back, already jogging toward the road.

“It was a damned trick,” Taniel said. “The powder was set a mile down the road, laid out like men lying in wait, and the grenadiers hiding here in the woods.”

Gavril swung from his horse while Vlora ran to free the two surviving Riflejacks.

“Sorry, sir,” one of the Riflejacks said to Taniel, wincing as Vlora helped him to his feet. “Came out of the woods like ghosts. Flerrier and Doll fought like the pit, but we were overwhelmed after our first volley. The pikes did in our horses without trouble.”

Gavril put down one of the frightened, thrashing horses with his pistol, while Norrine gave Taniel stitches on his brow. “Gather their survivors,” Taniel ordered. “I want to find out what the pit they know.” His head spun and he was still trying to make sense of it all. The trap had been perfect, and he’d walked right into it. It made him furious to see those Adran soldiers-his soldiers-lying dead in the road. There was no one to blame but himself.

There were twenty-three surviving grenadiers, and Taniel could tell at a glance that most of them would be dead of their wounds by morning. His own two surviving Riflejacks might survive if they could avoid infection, having gotten off with a dozen light wounds between the two of them. The Riflejacks’ horses-and Taniel’s and Vlora’s-were either dead or had thrown their riders and fled.

Taniel climbed to his feet after Norrine finished his stitches. He’d had time to catch his breath and let the pain and anger simmer. He had to come up with a plan now. They’d lost valuable time, and they’d lost their advantage of five powder mages.

Norrine knelt beside one of the Kez grenadiers, removing her own needle and silk thread.

“No, don’t,” Taniel said. “They’re not getting any help until they tell us what the game is.” He walked up and down the line of grenadiers, now stripped of their jackets and with their hands tied behind their backs with their own belts. Gavril stood over them, arms crossed, teeth set. He did not look like a man to cross right then.

“How about it?” Taniel asked. “First man who tells me how many men your Privileged master has left will be the first man to get medical treatment.”

Some of the soldiers stared at their feet. Others stared at him dumbly. A few of them moaned from the pain and one was weeping and holding his bloody side.

Taniel repeated his offer in Kez. The soldiers glanced at each other but did not answer. “Any of you speak Brudanian? I don’t know more than a few words.”