When he estimated that the Tenth would be close to beginning their assault, Ullsaard turned to his signalmen and raised a hand. They brought up their drumsticks as the rain pattered on the skins of their instruments.
Ullsaard dropped his hand and a long rolling drumbeat sounded across the army. Advance!
Ullsaard felt a growing dismay as not a single legionnaire stepped up. He twisted in his saddle and snapped at the musicians to signal the advance again. They did so, with equal effect.
The general looked for Anasind, and saw the First Captain of the Thirteenth running towards him, his staff officers trailing after.
"What the fuck is going on?" Ullsaard demanded once Anasind was in earshot.
"I don't know, General," the First Captain confessed. "The men are just ignoring the order. They don't look too happy. Should I have the company officers make a few examples?"
"That won't be needed," said Ullsaard, dismounting. He handed Blackfang's reins to an orderly and his spear to another. The ailur turned her head towards him, apparently confused by his absence. She sniffed the air and twitched her tail, sensing battle.
"What are you going to do?" asked Anasind, following behind Ullsaard as he strode towards the front rank of the Thirteenth.
"This isn't mutiny, it's uncertainty," Ullsaard said. "Let's just show the boys that we mean business."
The worried eyes of the legionnaires followed Ullsaard as he walked along the line just in front of the Thirteenth legion's front rank. He came to a stop a few paces from the first company, whose captain, Venuid, held the legion icon.
"I know you are not sure why you must fight today," Ullsaard said, his voice a shout that could be heard by the distant companies. "You wonder why we raise our spears against our fellow Askhans. The reasons are many and tedious. All you need know is that today we fight for our rights as soldiers and men. The king has refused to treat with us as the law demands, and he seeks to quell our spirit with threats of violence.
"It is not we that start this war, but King Lutaar, who refuses to acknowledge my rights, and through me, your rights. He would have us waste our time choking on dust and sand while his favourites earn rich spoils elsewhere. No more! I came here to demand what we are entitled to, but he will not even see me. Today we do not fight against the soldiers of a just ruler, but against the lackeys of a tyrant who ignores his own laws."
Ullsaard paced back and forth and saw anger on the faces of some of the men, but most were still confused. He would need to give them something more to fight for. He strode up to Venuid and took the Askhan icon from the captain's grasp. He held it up so that all of the Thirteenth could see it.
"This is the symbol of the Thirteenth!" Ullsaard roared. "I gave it to you when I raised you. On it, you swore oaths of loyalty, and you took the coin from my hand and the wisdom from my lips. You are my Thirteenth, who have been like brothers and sons to me. You have fought for me, bled for me, and died for me. Today I ask you to do that again."
Ullsaard stalked away from the line, still holding up the icon. He stopped about twenty paces from the front rank.
"Are you going to let your icon fall to this bunch of boys and dogs?" Ullsaard bellowed. "Are you going to let this rabble of pigfuckers kill your general?"
With that he turned away and marched along the road towards the gatehouse. He heard shouts of dismay and anger behind him. "Thirteen!" a voice cried out. He recognised it as Anasind. "Thirteen!" several thousand throats roared in response.
The legion advanced as one, splashing through the rain after their leader and standard. To their left and right, the other legions followed suit, none wanting to be shamed by the enthusiasm of their rivals.
Ullsaard heard a splash of sandaled feet behind. Venuid caught up with him, his round face split by a wide grin.
"I think I could carry that for you, General," said the captain.
Ullsaard thrust the icon back into Venuid's hands with a wink. The general stepped to one side to allow the first company to catch up with their captain. As they reached him, Ullsaard raised his shield above his head.
"Thirteen!" he cried and received the answering call.
"Thirteen!"
XI
About a quarter of a mile from the Wall, the spear throwers hurled their bolts down into the Thirteenth. Their shields gave little protection against the heavy missiles and men were flung back through the ranks with harsh cries. Ullsaard had joined the front rank of the first company at the head of the attack.
"Keep moving! Fast advance!" bellowed Ullsaard as a spear flashed past him only a few paces away, punching through a legionnaire's shoulder to send him spinning to the ground. The other soldiers quickly stepped in to fill the gap. Speed would be their best defence.
Drummers sounded the order and the legion, company by company, broke into a trot, spears on their shoulders. More bolts crashed through the ranks but the legionnaires ignored their dead and wounded and pressed onwards with their general.
A cloud of arrows flew up from the rampart ahead. The second captains bellowed commands to form a shield wall and the legionnaires closed in around Ullsaard. The front rank held their shields to the front, while the men further back created a roof with theirs. Though this provided greater protection against the arrows, it slowed down their advance. Ullsaard winced as shafts thudded around and above him, a few finding gaps to bite into flesh. Volley after volley descended on them as they tramped towards the gatehouse, leaving a trail of injured men.
An arrowhead split the wood of Ullsaard's shield and cut his forearm. Blood dribbled from the slight wound, dripping down the inside of his shield onto his leg. He ignored it and glanced around the side of his shield to see how far they were from the gatehouse.
Less than two hundred paces.
"Sound the charge!" he roared. Around him, the shield wall fell apart and the company broke into a run.
The horns sounded the order. This was no barbaric sprint into combat, but a controlled increase of speed. The legionnaires loped along at an easy pace, mud churning up beneath their feet, keeping to their ranks while more arrows whistled overhead.
The first company angled their run towards the gate tower to the right, while the second company split to the left. Ullsaard kept his focus on the archway at the base of the tower. He could see crates and timber had been piled onto the stairs within. More arrows fell on them as they reached the foot of the wall and burst towards the open archway.
"Clear this shit out of the way," rasped Anasind, a little to Ullsaard's right. The First Captain turned to shout at the third company who were following behind. "Shields up!"
They hefted up their shields to form a protective barrier over the heads of the first company, while those legionnaires began to pull apart the impromptu barricade. Planks and barrels were passed from man to man beneath the shield roof, to be thrown out to each side to keep the path clear. Archers stationed inside the tower loosed their shafts into the men clearing the debris, but those that were injured quickly withdrew to allow others to continue, while the bodies of the dead were tossed out of the way like any other junk.
Behind the assaulting companies, others were defending the lava-throwers. Protected by the shields of their covering companies, the crews worked their machines and unleashed gouts of black and red fire at the ramparts above the gates. The charred corpses of bowmen fell from the Wall to crash into the mud while the hideous shrieking of the survivors rang down the tower steps.