The officers’ mess was empty. Taniel ran past the rows of tables, their chairs set upside down on top of them, and came out into the street.
He only paused there to pull on his shirt and adjust his rifle kit. Boots came on next, and by the time he was up, men and women poured from the rest of the buildings on the street. Taniel joined the flow of those heading toward the southern wall of the bastion.
“You heard the alarm?” Fesnik asked, dropping in beside Taniel. He’d taken a liking to Taniel in the two weeks since he’d come down off the mountain with Bo. Taniel couldn’t imagine why. He’d cracked one of the man’s teeth when he put a pistol in his mouth all those weeks ago.
Taniel rolled his eyes. Of course he heard it. Half of Adro heard it, and the damned bells were still going. “Yeah,” he said.
“Think it’s the big push?”
“Don’t know.”
The young Watcher looked far too excited for the prospect. They’d had nothing but potshots at the Kez soldiers since fire was first exchanged. The Kez army had simply lain out on the fields, readying itself for… something… out of range of artillery. Their Privileged had stayed completely out of sight – a fact that irked Taniel – though he’d had his share of shots at Wardens. Killing one of them in a single shot, though, took more luck than skill.
Taniel fell into a spot on the bulwark and got comfortable. He snorted a pinch of powder to sweep away the last of his sleep and squinted into the morning sun.
“They’ve got the sun with them,” Taniel said.
“Bastards,” Fesnik grunted.
Taniel said, “We’ve always known they’d attack in the morning. Their advantage will turn against them in the afternoon, when they’re looking up the mountain to make a shot.”
The sun had barely begun peeking out from the distant hills. The morning air was chilly despite summer’s onset. The snow had disappeared from the lower parts of Pike’s skirt and the road up the southern side would be soggy – it’d be trampled to a mud-covered slide when Kez troops began their ascent. Taniel wondered at the Kez strategy.
The bells fell away from the town behind them. Quiet came, save for a few nervous whispers and the rattle of gear. Cannons were loaded, muskets readied. Men and heavy guns lined the entire bulwark with just enough room between them to work. Taniel did not envy the enemy.
“By Kresimir,” Fesnik said, squinting. “They’ve got enough troops to throw men and bullets at us until the end of times.”
“They’re welcome to try,” said a Watcher woman on Taniel’s right. He thought he recognized the voice and took a glance. It was Katerine, one of Bo’s women. She was a serious woman, not Bo’s type at all, tall and thin with raven hair and a severe voice. He gave her a nod. She responded in kind.
Taniel took a little more powder and tried to search the plains below for some kind of movement. Being a powder mage didn’t reduce the glare of the morning sun. He felt a tug on his sleeve. Ka-poel stood beside him and pointed down the slope.
Taniel tried to follow her finger, searching the hillside and the plains below. Then he saw it. Down near Mopenhague. The town had long been abandoned in favor of a headquarters farther back. Not anymore. A tower had been erected during the night. It stood three stories high, made of wooden beams and sitting upon a sled, with a full team of oxen ready to pull it.
Taniel felt his heart jump. “A Privileged Tower,” he said. He opened his third eye to find out for certain. A glow surrounded the tower in the Else, thick enough to blot out individual auras.
“It’s just a pile of sticks,” Fesnik said. “One good shot from a big gun and it’s splinters.”
Ka-poel snorted. Taniel didn’t think she’d ever seen a Privileged Tower, but she could definitely sense the sorcery around the thing.
Katerine seemed worried. She gave Taniel an uncertain look.
“Don’t get your hopes up on that,” Taniel said. “Privileged Towers are more a bundle of sorcery than sticks.” He gave the thing a once-over. His third eye found a field of colors below, a thousand pastels all smeared together and mixed up. The tower glowed like a thousand torches. Looking at it gave him a headache. He closed his third eye. “They’ve been weaving wards into that thing for the last few weeks. I don’t think one of these has been built for a long time. It takes an entire royal cabal, and when it’s finished…”
“OK, but what the pit does it do?” Fesnik asked. Taniel gave the young Watcher a glance. Fesnik’s musket barrel wavered.
“It’ll protect the soldiers as they come up the hill,” Taniel said. “And the Privileged riding it.”
“I still can’t see the thing,” Fesnik said, shielding his eyes.
“You will soon enough.” Taniel lifted his rifle and spun about. “Any idea where Bo is?”
Fesnik shook his head.
“With Gavril,” Katerine said. “Above the gate.”
The largest of the bulwarks was above the southeast gate. It stuck out from the main wall, looming over the side of the mountain with twenty cannon and artillery pieces. Taniel found Gavril right out on the point of the bulwark, his eyes shaded against the sun, leaning out as if waiting for a bullet to strike him. Bo stood a few paces back, frowning at the hillside below.
“Privileged Tower,” Taniel said.
“I know. I’ve been wondering what they’re up to. Thought they were waiting for more men.” He grunted and tugged at his collar. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“I’ve never seen one before,” Taniel said. “Just heard stories.”
“I’d be surprised if you had. The last one made was oh, two hundred and fifteen years ago. A siege of a shah’s palace in Gurla by Kez forces. Allied with Adro, no less.” He snorted. “The Adran and Kez royal cabals worked together to build three Privileged Towers. Won them the battle, and the war.”
“Why’d they need them?” Taniel asked.
Bo gave him a long look. “Because the shah’s palace was guarded by a Gurlish god.”
Taniel felt a chill in his chest. It wasn’t caused by the wind. “You’re joking. A god?”
“Royal cabal secrets, my friend,” Bo said, tapping the side of his nose. “A young god. Young and naive.” Bo’s voice was wistful.
“Not a story you’ll hear in the history books,” Gavril added. He climbed down from the bulwark and faced them, placing a looking glass back in his pocket. He wore the assorted furs of a mountain man with brown leather boots and a matching vest that barely fit across his chest. The vest was old and faded, and Taniel could practically smell the dust from it, as if it had been sitting in the back of a closet or bottom of a chest. On the left breast it had an emblem of the Mountainwatch – three triangles, a bigger one with a halo flanked by two smaller ones. A Watchmaster’s vest.
Gavril, the town drunk, was the Watchmaster. It still boggled Taniel’s mind.
“What do you think?” Bo said, nodding over the edge of the bulwark.
“I don’t like it.” Gavril rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He’d shaved off his beard since he took over as Watchmaster. It grew back in quickly, and he only bothered to shave every few days. “A Privileged Tower means they’ve got the whole cabal down there.”
“Or something worse,” Bo said.
“Julene,” Taniel said.
They exchanged unhappy glances.
“I’ve seen her unleash sorceries,” Taniel said. “Powerful stuff.”
“Bah,” Bo said. “She held back. You don’t know the half of it.”
“Then she’ll sweep this fortress aside.”
“Don’t care who she is,” Gavril said. “She’ll not get rid of us so easily. Sorceries as old as she is anchor this fortress to the mountain. They’ve been woven into every brick and every handful of dirt and rock. This is the Mountainwatch.”
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.”