Frey stared out through the windglass a long time. His face was grim, but there was something new in his eyes. Something that hadn’t been there since they’d left the Awakener camp in the Barabac Delta.
Determination. Cold, hard purpose.
‘Reckon some things are worth risking everything for,’ said Frey.
‘You damn right about that,’ said Silo, as Frey began to turn the Ketty Jay around.
Forty
‘The gate! They’ve opened the gate!’
The cry echoed along the streets, punctuated by gunfire. The narrow lanes and courtyards which surrounded the Archduke’s palace were aswarm with men and things other than men. Massive shapes lunged through the rain, metal limbs screeching. Frigates hung close overhead, their enormous hulls filling the grey sky, trailing ropes like catfish tendrils. They wouldn’t bomb the palace; its contents were too valuable. But they could drop Sentinels behind the defenders’ positions.
‘This way!’ someone shouted, and the Coalition soldiers surged in that direction. Crake hurried along an alley with men jostling him on either side. The world seemed to have become very small. He was surrounded by a tiny bubble of reality; beyond it, everything was muffled and suspect. Samandra, Malvery and Ashua appeared at his side now and then, but he’d lose them just as quickly in the tide of soldiers. He spotted Grudge more often, and sometimes Celerity Blane, her blonde ringlets sodden, eyes narrow in a leonine face.
Gunfire pulled him up short at the corner. He pressed himself against the wet stone and peered round into a courtyard. Sentinels were dug in at one end, shooting out from behind a statue of Kendrick Arken, the first of the Archdukes. More of them were pouring in through an arch. The Century Knights didn’t break stride; they raced out into the courtyard, heading for cover of their own. He saw his lover running, rolling, coming up with shotguns blasting. He saw Celerity Blane, astonishingly fast, rotary pistols chattering as they ate up bullets from her gunbelt. Colden Grudge came last with his great autocannon booming, tearing holes through the charging mob.
He wanted to be brave. He wanted to run out there, to fight by Samandra’s side, to protect her. But something had rooted him to the corner. He couldn’t go out into the open with all those bullets flying about. He wasn’t a fighter, not this way. That was her department.
He looked over his shoulder, alerted by the thump and clank of a golem. Not Bess, though. This golem was larger even than her, a hulking armoured brute all rivets and plates. Its head was small and oval and smooth, without mouth or nose or ears. Mechanical eyes glared out from beneath a brow that had been fashioned in a menacing scowl.
It stamped past him, followed by another, and charged into the courtyard, heedless of the bullets. One of the golems headed for the archway, the other for the men behind the statue. The Awakeners tried to run, but the golems ploughed into them like cannonballs. Bones cracked beneath their huge flat feet; they shattered men left and right with their enormous fists. The leg of the statue was smashed away by one wild swing, and the stern figure of Kendrick Arken toppled to the ground in pieces. By the time the dust cleared, the Awakeners had fled.
Malvery came up next to him and gave him a hefty nudge with his elbow. ‘You alright, mate?’
‘Yes,’ said Crake. ‘It’s just. .’ He waved out at the courtyard. ‘All this.’
‘I know,’ said Malvery. ‘Stick it out, eh? We’ll drive ’em off with those golems on our side.’
‘And then what?’ Crake asked. ‘What do we do then?’
Malvery’s face was serious. ‘That don’t matter,’ he said. ‘Just do what you can.’
The crump and rumble of distant explosions could still be heard over the thunder and hissing rain. The ground trembled whenever a particularly big bomb hit. Even up on this crag, high above the city, they could feel Thesk’s death throes through their soles.
Yes, he thought. Just do what you can.
He was frightened, and not only for himself. They could beat back the invaders from the palace, but they couldn’t do it forever. Not with those frigates overhead. The Awakeners could land troops on top of them all day, and if the resistance proved too much, they’d simply forget about preserving Thesk’s seat of power and start bombing. They’d annihilate the golems and bring down the walls.
Don’t think about that. Think about now.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t have his crewmates’ ability to ignore consequences and live in the moment. He’d often envied them that. They were so blithe in the face of danger.
Was that the root of courage? The art of forgetting what you’d lose if you failed?
Bess caught up with them, shambling to a halt nearby. She was dragging a dead Sentinel by his leg like a little girl with a doll. The Sentinel’s head was dented on one side, the face aghast and purple.
‘Put that down, Bess,’ Crake said, faintly nauseated. Bess ignored him, her attention on the golems in the courtyard. She seemed bashful and subdued in their presence. They intimidated her.
Ashua hurried up, scrawny and soaked. She’d been off dealing with Awakeners in the streets behind them. The battle there was done, but only temporarily. No matter how hard they tried to drive the Awakeners out, more of them landed. Many of the Coalition troops had been held back to protect the palace, where the Archduke sheltered. The rest were out to make sure the Awakeners couldn’t bring their ground forces through the streets and up to the palace doors.
‘If they get a steady route up the road from the city, they can bring in armoured vehicles and rot knows what else,’ Malvery growled. He slapped Crake on the shoulder. ‘Come on. Still fightin’ to be done yet.’
They hastened across the courtyard, following the others towards the gate which guarded the streets on the crag top. The Century Knights led the way. Samandra found Crake with her gaze before she disappeared through the arch. He would have liked her by his side, but he understood. She had a job to do. Matters here were too important to let herself be distracted by babysitting.
The fighting around the gate was fierce. A narrow road ran through the arch, lined with stables and shops on either side. Watchtowers stood there, and the battle was thickest near their base. A mob of Awakeners were trying to force their way up the road, driving ahead by sheer weight of numbers. Gun muzzles flashed; the air was punched with pistol reports; men screamed.
An Awakener gunship hovered overhead, seeking a clear shot at the Coalition forces. More Century Knights were here: Eldrew Grissom, his duster whirling about him and his knives flashing; Graniel Thrate, the Sledgehammer. Golems weighed in, dashing men against the walls. Bess went with them, disregarding Crake’s command to stay. The lure of the fight was too much for her.
Crake stayed close to the buildings and hurried up the street in short bursts. His palm was sweaty on his pistol grip. Ashua was close behind him. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt about that. His head told him that she wasn’t to be trusted, that she might well be on the side of the enemy. But it was hard for him to hate someone who’d so recently been a friend. There was too much empathy in him, too much capacity for self-doubt.
Besides, he had bigger things to worry about right now.
A pair of Sentinels appeared at the mouth of an alley behind them, a little way up the street. It was only because Crake was looking back at Ashua that he spotted them. He cried out a warning, thrust out his gun and fired three shots. Two window panes exploded and a nearby door jamb suffered a grievous wound. Other Coalition soldiers took care of the flesh-and-blood opponents.
‘When this is done, I’m gonna teach you how to shoot that thing,’ Ashua muttered, slipping past him to take the lead.