The smoke cleared.
The volley of shots had torn through the first few ranks. Men dropped by the score. Wounded tossed themselves to the side, trying not to be trampled by those behind. They could not get out of the way. There were too many soldiers. Adran cannons fired grapeshot, the sound pounding away at Taniel’s ears.
Only Wardens remained standing after the grapeshot. They pushed onward, wet stains on their black coats betraying blood loss, yet seemingly no worse for the wear. They bellowed in defiance, shook their knives in the air, and waved to the ranks behind them. The dead were trodden underfoot.
“Grenados!”
The clay balls were lit on torches along the wall and tossed over. Explosions bit into the Kez numbers. A few Wardens were blasted to pieces.
Kez swarmed the base of the bulwark like angry hornets. Ladders were put in place, and grappling hooks thrown. Taniel snatched for a hatchet as a hook landed beside him. He cut the rope with one chop and jumped up, firing at a Privileged at the bottom of the wall.
Wardens scrambled up the slanted walls of the bastion as if they were light inclines. They made it up the wall in moments, and a half dozen jumped down among the Watchers.
“To bayonets!” Gavril yelled. “Keep up the cannon fire!”
One great, ugly head poked over the bulwark right in front of Ka-poel. Taniel swung his rifle toward the Warden, but Ka-poel was faster. Her hand jabbed forward, revealing a long needle that had been hidden in her sleeve. It went through the Warden’s eye and into his brain. The creature let go his handholds and fell.
Taniel stabbed a Kez soldier in the shoulder as he scrambled over the wall. He cracked the next man with the butt of his rifle and tried to load another redstripe. The Kez were coming too fast. He took a quick snort of powder and gripped his rifle in both hands, sure he wouldn’t get off another shot. He readied himself for the next wave – they’d find a trance-taken powder mage ready for them.
A Warden came over the wall with one hand on the brick, the other clutching a knife big enough to cut Taniel in two. Ka-poel leapt for him, but was batted away like a doll. Taniel yelled, thrusting his bayonet. The Warden reached long arms over the rifle, ignoring fourteen inches of steel through his middle, and backhanded Taniel. Taniel stumbled. The blow had rattled him even in a powder trance.
The Warden spotted Bo on the ground and pushed himself off Taniel’s bayonet. Bo raised his hands, trying to manage some defense, but the Warden leapt upon him in a moment, knife raised.
Taniel reached the Warden as he was about to stab Bo. He thrust his bayonet, spitting the creature like a hog. The Warden’s head turned, surprised that Taniel had regained his feet so quickly. The Warden tried to use his weight and strength as leverage to throw Taniel’s grip on his rifle.
Taniel would have none of it. He could feel the barrel of his rifle strain as he shoved the Warden back against the bastion wall. He set his feet and lifted, dumping the Warden over the edge. He hoped the creature’s wounds would prevent it from climbing the bastion again.
He paused for just a moment to help Ka-poel to her feet. She was rattled, but unhurt.
Gavril appeared by his side. “Get back to shooting,” he snarled as he grabbed a Kez soldier by the throat. He lifted the man, one-handed, and tossed him over the wall. “Kill the Privileged!”
Suddenly Fesnik was there with Gavril, a small sword in one hand, a long pole in the other, pushing away the ladders. Under their cover, Taniel grabbed his bag of redstripes. He dropped two balls in, rammed down the cotton, and took aim.
Angle floating, powder mages called it – when you fire a bullet and push it in one sharp direction, around a wall or even around a person. Taniel had seen his father do it on many occasions – it was said Tamas was the very best.
Taniel generally had a hard time with angle floating, and often failed to make the angle sharp enough. It took precision timing and a damned huge amount of concentration. Taniel couldn’t manage that concentration. A failed angle floater made his head feel like it had been pounded by a hammer. A successful one hurt more.
What Taniel could do was nudge bullets. Nudging a bullet was no more than burning some powder to correct your aim while the bullet was in flight – much like floating itself. It took little more than a sharp eye, yet he’d never seen anyone shoot farther nor more accurately than he could. And he could do it with two bullets.
Ka-poel pointed out a pair of Privileged about ten paces from each other. They stood down beside the easy cover of the redoubts, some hundred paces away and protected by their personal shields. Taniel lined up the shot and pulled the trigger.
Both men dropped, taking the separate bullets to the chest. A third Privileged saw them fall. Taniel ducked behind the wall.
He signaled to Ka-poel to stay down. The Privileged would be watching for him now. He couldn’t stop shooting. He took a few deep breaths and loaded one bullet and pictured that third Privileged in his mind’s eye. Less than a second to aim and shoot. He crawled, rifle in hand, changing his position on the wall by five paces. A few quick breaths and he sprang up.
The Privileged had his hands up, fingers twitching. An arch of lightning sprang from the air above him as Taniel pulled the trigger. The lightning slammed into the spot Taniel had been a few moments before, the force of the impact powerful enough to knock Taniel, Gavril, Ka-poel, Fesnik, and a dozen Kez soldiers off their feet.
The bullet drifted high and ripped through the Privileged’s throat. He went down in a spray of blood.
Taniel breathed a sigh of relief.
A horn resounded across the mountainside. The sound of fighting tapered off as the Kez soldiers retreated back down the mountain.
Gavril pushed away a soldier he’d been grappling with. He held a fist above his head. “Cease fire!” The cannons silenced. Kez soldiers within the bulwark threw down their weapons. Gavril scowled at them. “We’re not taking prisoners,” he said. “Surrender your weapons and gear, and then down the mountain with you.”
Word passed throughout the bastion. Kez climbed back over the walls after being relieved of their muskets and powder, and began the long walk among their dead. Gavril found a Kez officer among the wounded and took him by the shoulder while Taniel watched.
“Tell Field Marshal Tine that he can send some unarmed soldiers up to collect your dead. And I suggest we all take a few days to tend to the wounded.” Gavril repeated the order in Kez to be sure he was understood.
The officer nodded wearily and, with the help of a Kez soldier, headed over the wall and down the mountain.
Taniel dropped down beside Bo.
“You OK?”
Bo gave him a long look.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“To the pit with all this,” Bo managed.
Katerine, Rina, and Alasin appeared as if from nowhere. All three of Bo’s women. They surrounded Bo, alternately scolding and fussing, and Bo was carried off toward the town.
Taniel and Gavril watched them go.
“I need to get me one of those,” Taniel said.
“What?” Gavril asked. “A harem?”
“Yeah,” Taniel said. Ka-poel punched him in the arm.
“I’ve tried juggling more than one woman at once,” Gavril said. “It’s a pain in the ass. Don’t know how Privileged do it.”
“They treat ’em like shit,” Taniel said.
“Bo doesn’t,” Gavril said. “I guess I should say, ‘I don’t know how Bo does it.’”
They turned and watched the retreating Kez in silence for a moment.
“You really saved our asses there,” Gavril said.
Taniel gave Gavril a surprised look. “Huh?”
“You didn’t know?”
Gavril slapped his knee and gave a loud guffaw. Watchers, tending to the dead and wounded, paused to give Gavril odd looks. “You mean you don’t know who you shot?”
“A Privileged?” He bent over, picked up a discarded bottle of St. Adom’s Festival wine. Somehow it had gone unbroken through all of this. He took a swig. After a moment’s hesitation he handed it to Ka-poel. She drank once and gave it back.