Why didn’t they open the gates?
They were still a hundred yards from the walls when Pied shouted for Ti Auberen to form up ranks. The Elves wheeled into triangle formations and turned to face the approaching riders. Erris Crewer brought the archers into position at the rear, their ranks three deep, and the Elves prepared to stand and fight. Pied felt his heart sink. They could hold for a time, but in the end they would be overrun, caught out in the open with no place to hide and no one to stand with them.
He moved to the front triangle to stand with Auberen. Neither spoke. There was nothing to say.
Then, with the Federation riders almost on top of them and the Elven archers already letting go with their first volleys, the gates of the Free–born defenses finally swung open and out rode the Red Cloaks, the horse unit of the Bordermen of Callahorn, successors to the fabled Border Legion. They burst through the opening in a wave of crimson and a cacophony of wild cries, charging hard for the Federation cavalry. Clad in heavy armor and wielding lances, they tore through the Federation riders as if they were so many straw men, breaking apart their ranks and shattering the attack. In only minutes, the entire Federation force was in flight, and the Red Cloaks owned the grasslands.
The Elves, meanwhile, were running for the gates once more, the cheers of the defenders urging them on. Pied ran with them, a surge of relief flooding through him. As he passed through the gates and behind the safety of the Free–born defenses, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm. Troon stood at his elbow, grinning broadly.
« You didn’t think I got through, did you?» she shouted at him above the din of men and horses. «Admit it, you saw the gates were closed and you thought I’d failed.» Her gray eyes danced with glee. «Didn’t I tell you not to worry?»
Pied responded by giving her a hug and was surprised when she hugged him back, even more surprised to discover how good it felt.
He moved on, searching for Ti Auberen and Erris Crewer. They had to make arrangements for what would happen next. But his Lieutenants were nowhere to be found in the surge of ebullient soldiers coming in from the grasslands. He found himself carried along by the tide, swept uphill to the heights where the main body of the Free–born was settled. There was a general milling about as the newly arrived were sorted out—the healthy directed to campsites and the wounded taken away for treatment. Pied wandered through the crowd, wondering what had possessed him to hug Troon, something commanding officers did not do to soldiers, no matter the nature of the relationship. It wasn’t really the propriety of the action that bothered him, it was the emotions it had stirred. He had known Troon since they were children, but he had never been attracted to her. She was a Tracker in his Home Guard command, the one on whom he could always rely. She was his childhood friend, someone he liked to be around and who made him smile.
But for a minute back there, he had felt like she might be something more.
He forced his thoughts to other things and walked on.
Not an hour later, as he was buckling on his weapons, he heard his name called. He’d had just enough time to find his command post, connect with Ti Auberen and Erris Crewer, wash himself from a basin of warm water, and change into fresh clothes. He looked up to see a powerfully built Dwarf with long black hair and a beard braided at the chin and just below both ears approach. Several others of similar size but less flamboyant looks flanked him, hard–eyed men wearing multiple blades and bearing scars on their hands and faces. There was not a smile to be found on any of them save for the leader, but he was smiling broadly enough for them all.
« Captain Sanderling!» he boomed, his voice deep and resonant, the sound of it strangely compelling, like that of a practiced orator. «I’m Vaden Wick, Captain. Glad you made it through. We have been anticipating your arrival ever since your Tracker informed us of your coming. Heard about your success against the Federation three days back. That was impressive. Others would simply have kept running.»
« I thought about it,” Pied said. He reached out to shake the others hand.
« I doubt that. You haven’t the look.» Vaden Wick tugged on the braid below his right ear, casting quick glances about the Elven camp, his sharp eyes taking in everything. «We have a lot to talk about. Can we do it now?»
He walked Pied down to the Free–born fortifications at the southern edge of the east plateau, exchanging greetings with his soldiers on the way, seemingly relaxed and unconcerned about anything. He had that quality of being able to disconnect from the burden of leadership when out among those he commanded, lending a sense of confidence to everyone he passed.
But when they stopped at a watchtower that was hastily vacated for their use, he abruptly changed. «Captain, we have a problem, and I need your help in solving it.» He looked out across the Prekkendorran to where the Federation lines were dark creases against the horizon to the south, wrapping east and west about the Free–born encampment like a snake. «We’re trapped here, hemmed in on every side but the one where we don’t wish to go. We can’t allow that to last much longer. That big airship with the weapon that burned Kellen Elessedil and his fleet out of the skies was airborne yesterday, a practice run that took her just outside the rear lines but was clearly meant as a test of her fitness. Another day, maybe two, and they will come after us. When they do, we’re finished.»
He looked over at Pied. «We have to find a way to stop that airship. You fought against her and you know her better than any of us. You damaged her or she would have done a good deal more than destroy the Elven fleet. I need to know if there is some way we can disable her when she comes after us again.»
Pied shook his head. «I was lucky, that last time. We were in a skiff, too small even to be a threat, but we got behind her and under her and used rail slings to damage the steering. My guess is they won’t let that happen again. The next time she comes after us, she’ll have armor up all over.»
Vaden Wick nodded. «I would guess so, too. So we need something else. Another way to damage her. A way to stop her before she even gets to us.»
Pied looked at him, realizing suddenly what he was saying. «You plan on going after her, don’t you?»
« If I get the chance. But I have to know how to knock her down before we engage her again. We have our airships ready to go, once we find what her weakness is. You’ve fought her and lived to tell about it. I thought you might have some insight.»
Pied looked off into the distance. If he had any insight, it was eluding him. He wanted to help, but the depth of his knowledge about theDechtera and her weapon was tiny. Mostly, he knew what would happen once the big Federation ship was aloft. Was there a weakness that the Free–born could exploit when that happened? He tried to think of one and failed.
« You think we have today and maybe tomorrow,” he repeated.
« At most.»
Pied thought about it some more. «They seem to have only one of these weapons,” he said. «One ship, one weapon.»
« So far.»
« A prototype.»
Vaden Wick looked at him, waiting.
« Can they even build another?»
The Dwarf shrugged. «Seems that if they could, they would have by now.»
Pied took a deep breath, an idea forming. «I think we need to get to her while she is still on the ground,” he said. «We need to get to her and destroy her completely. Maybe they really can’t build another.»