Silo looked at him levelly. ‘Show me,’ he said.
Maybe it was something in his tone, or the determination in his eyes, but the soldier did as he was told. ‘Come on, then,’ he said, and he led Silo away.
‘Fall back!’ someone was shouting behind him. ‘Gather up! We’re falling back to the palace!’ They saw a golem wandering aimlessly, a dim giant without direction, searching for opponents.
The soldier, who introduced himself as Eltenby, guided Silo through the wreckage and bodies. On the far side of the square was a swathe of smouldering rubble where a row of buildings had been demolished. Beyond was a shallow rise in the land, and the anti-aircraft emplacement sat on top of that, surrounded by a wall. It had escaped the destruction. A short uphill stretch of clear ground led to the gate.
‘There,’ said Eltenby, pointing. ‘You can see them on the wall. The only way in is through that gate. They have another gatling gun up there, a three hundred and sixty degree field of vision and open terrain all around. Anyone tries to approach from any side, they’ll cut us down.’
Silo narrowed his eyes. ‘Not all of us,’ he said. ‘We gotta take that gun.’
Eltenby stared at him in surprise. ‘Are all your people as crazy as you?’
Silo didn’t bother to answer that. He got to his feet and stalked back across the square. Somewhere, a man was still shouting, ‘Gather up! Fall back!’ Silo headed towards the sound, with Eltenby tagging after him. The soldier seemed interested to see what Silo would do.
Silo found the owner of the voice behind a pile of rubble. He was a stocky man with short blond hair and broad, scowling features, and he was directing soldiers back up the road towards the palace. Silo wasn’t clear on the ranks of the Coalition Army, but he knew enough to see that this man wasn’t much higher than a grunt. If any commanding officers had survived, he couldn’t see them.
The sight of the soldiers leaving inspired anger in Silo. He didn’t know where it came from; usually he was good at mastering his emotions. But this. . This was wrong. He felt it powerfully, and it took him over.
‘Hey!’ he yelled. ‘Hey! Where you goin’? We ain’t done here!’
Several dozen soldiers, most of them dirtied and carrying wounds, stopped and looked back at him.
‘You all goin’ home?’ he cried. ‘Ain’t you noticed there’s a war on?’
‘Shut your mouth, foreigner,’ sneered a soldier as he passed. ‘Bet you can’t wait for your masters to get here.’
Silo’s eyes blazed, and he grabbed the soldier by the front of his uniform and dragged him close, until they were face to face. The man smirked nervously, but he couldn’t meet Silo’s gaze, and he wilted. Silo shoved him away.
‘Ain’t nobody the master o’ me,’ he snarled. He raised his voice, addressing the others. ‘I am a foreigner. This ain’t even my land. So how come I’m the only one here got any guts?’
‘Fall back to the palace!’ shouted the stocky soldier, ignoring him.
But Silo wasn’t in the mood to be ignored. ‘There ain’t time to fall back to the palace!’ he roared. The other soldiers had stopped retreating now; he had their attention, at least for the moment.
He pointed up to the sky, where the remnants of the Awakener convoy huddled within the Samarlan swarm. ‘There’s a man up there riskin’ his life to save this damn city! A man who got a million reasons not to give a shit, but he doin’ it anyway! And he gonna take out the Awakeners’ secret weapon, and we gonna have the use of those anti-aircraft guns again, and then we gonna rip those Sammie bastards all to pieces! But first we gotta take that gun! You all got them orders, didn’t you? Didn’t the Archduke himself give you that job?’
‘The sarge is gone,’ one of the soldiers protested.
‘Who in rot’s name is in command now, anyway?’ someone else called. ‘Where’s Thrate?’
‘Thrate’s gone too. I saw it. He was right in the path when that frigate came down.’
The news hit them hard. One of the Century Knights? Those men and women were the heroes of the Coalition. The best of them were legends. It didn’t seem possible that one of them could have been erased like that.
‘You don’t need no commanding officer!’ Silo shouted. ‘And you don’t need no Century Knights! You just gotta pick up your guns and fight! This is your home!’
There was silence among the soldiers. Even the stocky soldier had fallen quiet. Some of the men were shamefaced, some furious. They exchanged glances, each trying to divine what their neighbour thought, seeking consensus.
‘Shit, I’m with you,’ said a loud voice, and Malvery walked up to stand next to him.
‘Me, too,’ said Ashua. Her tattooed face was smeared with blood, but she joined them all the same.
Eltenby looked around at his companions in disbelief. When nobody else spoke, he stepped forward. ‘Are we going to let a foreigner show us how to fight?’ he asked them. ‘Are we going to let a man from Murthia defend our country?’
‘They’re dug in! They got gates and walls and a gatling gun!’ came the protest, but it fell on stony ground now. There was a murmuring among the soldiers. Their pride had been pricked, and they were shaking off the shock of the frigate crash.
‘Who cares what they’ve got?’ someone shouted. ‘We’re the Coalition Army!’ A rough cheer went up at that.
‘I ain’t running from a bunch of peasants and witchdoctors!’ came another voice.
‘Let’s show those rotting Sammies the kind of welcome we give in Vardia!’
Soon they were all firing each other up, yelling slogans and taunts. The camaraderie of warriors, momentarily broken by disaster, knitted them back together. Silo felt it too; he knew the strength of it, from his desperate days as a resistance fighter in Samarla, when he’d been second-in-command to a small army.
Exhilaration filled him. They were all on his side now; they looked to him to lead. The colour of his skin, the set of his features didn’t matter. He was an idea, not a person any more. A lens to focus them, to channel their hurt and fear, their bravery and their fury.
‘Let’s take back that gun!’ he shouted, and this time they shouted with him.
They went hustling across the square towards the anti-aircraft emplacement, gathering stragglers on the way. Once the majority had turned, the rest came. By the time they reached the smouldering barrier of banked rubble, they were seventy or more, and there was a golem with them.
‘Those things understand us?’ Silo asked Eltenby, as the huge metal creature lumbered up alongside.
‘As far as I can tell,’ Eltenby replied.
‘We’re gonna need him,’ he said.
He turned to address the others. ‘Once we get over this rubble, they’ll be shootin’ at us,’ he said. ‘Ain’t much cover out there, so hit the ground runnin’ and keep runnin’. Golem’s gonna lead. We get to the gate, and he gonna damn well knock it down! Now load up your weapons. Once we go, we ain’t comin’ back!’
The soldiers began stuffing rounds into their pistols. Some were pale and grey, some with taut faces. They were scared, now it came to it. Any sane man would be. But they took their courage from their companions.
Malvery and Ashua were standing near Silo, loading up with the rest of them. The doctor kept casting worried glances at Ashua, until finally she shook her head irritably and said: ‘What?’
‘Maybe you ought to sit this one out,’ said Malvery. He waved vaguely at her head. ‘Might be you have concussion.’
‘I’m not sitting out shit,’ Ashua said, and went back to filling the chambers of her revolver.
‘I just mean. .’ said Malvery. ‘You know, if you’re doing this to prove something. . I mean, you don’t have to. .’
‘I do,’ she snapped. She leaned close and prodded him in the chest. ‘Yeah, I do. Because somewhere inside you, you’ve still got doubts. You’re still wondering if I’m for real, or if I was playing you all along.’ She shoved him angrily. ‘So if it takes some dumb-shit death or glory charge to convince you, then that’s what I’ll do. ’Cause I’m damned if I’m letting you cast me off for one little mistake.’