"That would be wise. You and your lads have got the most dangerous job, it's only right that you have the spirits on your side."
"What's that?" Griglhan pointed at the double-loop of rope in Anglhan's hands.
"This?" Anglhan replied distractedly. He acted as if he wasn't even sure for a moment. "It's a sling knot. We use it for hauling cargo aboard."
Griglhan took the rope and inspected the knot, tugging at it roughly.
"A man could slip his arms through those loops," the bandit muttered. He looked at Anglhan. "Would that be safer than having it tied around your waist?"
Anglhan looked for a moment as if he didn't understand the question and peered up at the men clambering across the rocks.
"When it's windy, the men at the mast top use that knot for their safety lines. If you fall with that around you, you might dislocate a shoulder, but if you fall with it around your waist, you could snap your back. I think that's it, but I might be confused. I'm not a terribly practical man."
Griglhan leaned towards Anglhan, staring at the knot.
"Teach us how to tie these," he demanded.
"I'll have Furlthia and some of my old crew show you," Anglhan replied. "They'll do it better than me, be sure of it."
"Thank you."
"No problem. I figure you'll need every help you can get. You boys certainly don't lack courage, do you? Climbing down in the dark, on wet rocks? I've got men that don't think twice about hanging from a sail boom that wouldn't do that."
"It won't be that dark," Griglhan said with a shake of his head. "That's why we've picked the night of the half-moon."
"Ah, yes, very clever. Although…"
"Although, what?"
Anglhan had to hide his delight. Why, he wondered, did such a simple trick work so often?
"It seems to me that the lighter it is, the more chance you'll be seen from the wall and tower."
"We have to have some light so that we can see where we're climbing."
"Good job you've got the best armour, that's what I say. I mean, if your men don't get on to the wall, the whole attack is going to fail. It's good to know that Aroisius is putting you first in his priorities."
"Lord Aroisius made it clear that nobody is to argue about the new weapons," Griglhan said. "He said that we have to stop squabbling like children with a piece of sweetcake."
"Very right he is too," said Anglhan, rocking back on his heels. "He's the one in charge, after all. We can trust him to have considered everything."
Griglhan nodded.
"It's the small things that he's so good at, isn't it?" Anglhan continued. "It's smart to have everything prepared, like what to do if it's cloudy, or rainy, or if it isn't cloudy."
"You're not making sense."
"Well, if it's cloudy, it might be too dark for you to climb. And the cloudier it is, the more chance of rain making your job more difficult."
"So? I'll tell Aroisius that we aren't doing it unless we get a clear night."
"That's for you and our fearless leader to sort out, nothing to do with me." Anglhan smiled and clapped Griglhan on the arm. "We can't fail with men like you!"
IX
Later that day, Anglhan found Lubrianati and his men returning from their forage. Using the same sort of arguments that had worked on Griglhan, he convinced the chieftain that it would be absolute suicide to attack the gatehouse of Magilnada with anything less than total darkness. As he flopped down onto his cot in the landship's main cabin, he wondered how long it would take Aroisius to sort out this dispute, with the lives of both men at stake.
The rebel leader's solution was both swift, sensible and exactly what Anglhan wanted. Aroisius announced that the attack would be delayed until the night of no moon, so that there would be total darkness to cover their approach. The fires would be set in the mill before the climbers started down the cliff. If the rain was too heavy for the flames to catch, the attack would be called off.
Six days after this pronouncement, after the attack would have taken place if the original plan had been followed, autumn storms hit the mountains. Wind and rain almost destroyed half the camp on the plateau and the rebels had to take shelter in the caves. New rivers poured through cracks and crevasses in the rocks, soaking many of the supplies that had been carefully hoarded over the summer. The hillmen amongst the army wagged their chins and warned that the seasons had turned. The spirits of summer had lost their annual battle, and now the spirits of winter were in the ascendancy.
As gloom fell like a shadow over the camp, Aroisius was forced to make a reluctant announcement: there could be no attack until spring. Anglhan remembered just in time to look suitably disappointed.
Mekha
Autumn, 209th Year of Askh
I
The bridge shivered with the tread of abada as Ullsaard rode across the Nakuus River, his servants on the wagon a short distance behind. A little way upstream work was underway building the stone crossing, though the legionnaires broke from their labours to wave and cheer for their returning general. The camp had changed dramatically, many of the tents replaced with low wooden buildings with steeply sloped roofs of dried grass. Smoke billowed from chimneys, drifting across the midday sky.
The guard companies formed up by the coldwards gate to welcome Ullsaard, clattering spears on shields and shouting praise. As he rode between the two lines of soldiers, he saw that many bore bandages and other signs of recent wounds. Cosuas waited for him inside the camp, his face heavily tanned and wrinkled. Ullsaard dismounted and they greeted one another wrist to wrist.
"Decided to come back, did you?" said Cosuas. "I thought you'd stay in Askh."
"You have no idea," Ullsaard replied with a rueful shake of the head. "I wondered if I'd ever get to leave."
The two walked side by side towards the centre of the camptown. Ullsaard noticed a number of women and children; families of legionnaires that would be the first settlers of Mekha. A large barn had been erected behind the duskwards wall and Ullsaard remembered the growing problems with the grain markets.
"How are we for supplies?" he asked.
"Steady, but that's about it," said Cosuas. "I've been trying to stockpile as best as I can, but we're running low on fodder. There's barely a blade of grass for the abada, and getting meat for the kolubrids is proving difficult. I've sent a few companies duskwards along the river to see what they can find."
They continued to discuss the logistics of the growing settlement as they walked along the streets, some of them now fixed with cobbles bedded into the dirt. Water cisterns rose on stilts above the remaining tents and the earth embankment beneath the wall had been replaced with brick foundations.
They reached Ullsaard's pavilion by early evening. He strode inside, thankful to be in the shade after several days' riding from the Greenwater. Everything was as he left it, even the sand trails across the rugs in the main chamber.
"Looks like you've seen some action," he remarked as he slumped into his chair.
"Two Mekhani attacks in the last three weeks," Cosuas told him as he took a seat to Ullsaard's left. "Night attacks, both of them. Last one was three days ago; shame you weren't back just a little earlier."
Ullsaard wasn't sure if this was a genuine regret on Cosuas' part or a veiled accusation. He decided it was the former; Cosuas' threats and accusations were rarely veiled.
"What's the current head count?" Ullsaard asked.
"Not too bad. We've lost just over a thousand to infected wounds, disease, food poisoning and other attrition. About twoand-a-half thousand dead from fighting. Kulrua, Haarin, Lokirna and Menuan have died. I've promoted Jutiil to camp captain, and Nemenis to First Captain of the Eleventh."