'I will try,' Nanzi agreed finally, then suddenly broke down in tears.
Brynd felt uncomfortable at this emotional outburst. She was a killer, nothing more, but he couldn't let her see his resentment.
'Look, after this war's over, I promise both you and this Voland chap can leave as free people. You'll have my word.'
She regarded him in wide-eyed incredulity. 'I will do as you say.'
*
Armed and ready, the Night Guard lined up in neat rows in the Citadel quadrangle, while storm-torches flared and receded in the breeze. Brynd paraded up and down, calling out instructions, last-minute strategy. Then, in hand language he signalled to the garudas perched above.
They glided down, each landing behind a member of the Night Guard. They linked straps, binding man and bird together. Brynd gave some brief commands: the garudas spread their massive wings outwards, and the soldiers crouched in unison with the bird-soldiers, an awkward joint posture.
Then everyone leapt skywards.
*
Jeryd had received instructions to hold several streets situated on thestern side of the city, which seemed strange because this was practically now the invader's turf. Clearly there was an operation about to take place, something big, but he didn't know what. It was annoying how at times like this, even stray rumours got dissected as if they were encrypted orders.
Reading the entrails of gossip, that's what you're relying on, Jeryd. Why don't you find a primitive tribesman and ask for a shell-reading?
The irregulars had managed to hold on to a street as the conventional military was pushed back, a professional regiment half slaughtered before his eyes. He felt proud of his rag-tag band of rumel – although they hadn't suffered the brunt of that skirmish, they were holding their ground, so the position didn't fall. Only the Okun had been tricky to deal with – with their daunting oneness of action, and they could somehow relay the irregulars' position to each other so as to avoid their snipers. Which pissed Jeryd off immensely.
And now there was endless waiting, it seemed, and Jeryd didn't know what for. The only clear instruction he'd had recently was to expect a visitor later that night, someone who'd contribute to implementing further orders.
Three hours since that message, and now long into the night. While drinking hot tea, snipers and scouts examined the neighbourhood for movement, when eventually a shrouded figure emerged from a side street. A couple of the lads went to investigate and escorted the newcomer over, cloaked and silent, to stand before their platoon leader.
Jeryd then laughed. 'Nanzi, you murdering bitch. The hell are you doing here?'
'I've been selected to help the Night Guard,' she declared, her tone almost apologetic.
Someone behind him gasped and there followed a moment of stunned silence. The presence nearby of that regiment was profound, and had a profound effect on everyone's morale. Jeryd's curiosity increased exponentially.
'Not in this shape, I imagine.' Jeryd gestured up and down at her human form.
Nanzi shook her head. Jeryd shook his.
'There's more,' she said. 'Because of such low temperatures, they want rumel to guide me into position, and then to oversee the escape of the hostages.'
Jeryd held back his disbelief. 'We've not had any official instructions yet.'
No sooner had he said this than a Dragoon came riding up to them, and jumped down from his grey. 'Sele of Jamur, Lieutenant Jeryd. Sergeant Vigspar. I have orders for you from the Night Guard.'
As his mount's hooves crunched on the debris, the sergeant confirmed what Nanzi had just said, and Jeryd listened carefully to the well-organized plan.
Vigspar rode away, and Jeryd immediately dispatched platoon members in search of carts to retrieve any injured hostages.
As the moment for action approached, he heard a communal gasp. He looked back to see Nanzi begin her transformation. She began juddering into shape, limbs unfolding, tufts of hair sprouting.
Within a minute she had contorted into the vast shape of the killer spider.
A couple of the rumel in the platoon cowered back some distance and Jeryd shouted at them, 'Get back, for fucksake. We're meant to guide this… thing into place.'
In the awed silence that followed, Jeryd inspected the dark street once again for movement, all the time waiting for the sound of Brenna devices detonating, forcing the enemy into fighting at night, against their will.
Then suddenly it came, a dull booming in the distance, and shortly afterwards, the faint but urgent response of the invaders being pressed into action, their battle cries.
'Right, lads. Let's go,' Jeryd called.
*
Brynd couldn't tell whether his attack of nerves came from beinransported by a garuda or the prospect of the mission ahead. Hirmour was buckled tight, and he had a cultist-enforced hoplon shielnd sabre. To one side of him, Lupus had a double-compound bolung across his shoulder, a quiver full of flu-flus and standard arrowtrapped to his back. They were hauled above the cityscape watchinhe lights of the explosions some distance away, dull thuds followey yellow flashes. Unmanned garudas flanked those carrying the Night Guard, and instead they carried shields and nets to prevent the mutombs from intercepting them.
In the distance could be seen a surge of enemy troops away from their target location, at least a thousand enemy rumel, and the sight of their departure brought a pang of relief. As the garudas tilted their wings and began to descend, the change in altitude and pace was distressing. Brynd couldn't help swallowing as the streets rushed vertiginously towards him. As soon as their feet touched to firm stone, his troop untied themselves, and the garudas shot skyward.
Brynd checked all were present, whispered brief orders.
Then they separated.
*
Strap your weapons tightly, Brynd signalled to Lupus, and he nodded hinderstanding.
Their small troop of four – Brynd, Smoke, Tiendi and Lupus – then slipped along a side street, behind several war-torn buildings, before tearing down the main thoroughfare that led north towards the warehouse.
The streets here were smothered by a thick layer of snow, and since Brynd had warned that footprints could ultimately give them away, they had to work quickly. Smoke and Tiendi arrived next to him as he paused a hundred yards from the broad street on which their target was located. While Smoke seemed to analyse the elements like he always did, Tiendi signalled discreetly for instructions, with her newly learned hand-language.
Wait until clear, Brynd hand-signed back to her.
Lupus unstrapped his bow, extracted three arrows, nocked one into position while the others readied themselves with sabres and crossbows. Perceiving the world in bright shades following their enhancement, there was no one to be seen around this side of the target building. This peaceful ambience disturbed him, although there was no reason for the enemy to know they were coming.
Then something crossed his vision, at the far end of the street: four dogs appeared, and began barking loudly. He willed them to shut up, for their own sake, knowing what would now be expected of him.
Brynd shifted his gaze towards Lupus and signalled Kill.
Lupus aimed his bow towards the animals, as suddenly they began to bound towards the soldiers, closing the distance at an alarming pace. The first muzzle appearing in his sight, Lupus fired. Then he loaded-fired, loaded-fired, loaded-fired until all four dogs collapsed into the snow in rapid succession.
Good, Brynd hand-signed, but Lupus didn't seem to think so.
A sign to follow, then they trotted past the corpses, Lupus pausing to recover the arrows.
At the broad intersection, there was nothing now between them and the rear of the warehouse. Glancing further along, Brynd spotted Night Guard huddled ready, their weapons glinting in the moonlight.