"Do you reckon that's big enough?" asked Gelthius. "Should we start shouting?"
"Let's just give it a f-"
Lihrin's reply was interrupted by a huge sheet of flame that shot up through the boards of the roof, scattering smouldering planks into the street. As the debris clattered down onto the stone, Lihrin turned to the others with a jubilant grin.
"I think that's going well enough," he said. Lihrin ran out into the street and headed towards the tower on the wall, hands cupped to his mouth.
"Fire!"
VI
Noran and his men staggered towards the gate as a clamour of shouts and banging swept through Magilnada. The thick smoke from the tannery fire billowed across the roofs of the buildings and the dull glow from bonfires was engulfed by the towering flames that reached up higher than the curtain wall. There was a commotion at the gatehouse as warriors poured out onto the wall to see what was happening, while others came out of the arched doorways of the flanking towers.
"What's happening?" Noran slurred his words as he draped his arm across the shoulders of one of the guards and looked dawnwards toward the pillar of flame. "That's the tanneries!" the warrior shouted up to the wall. "It's spreading into the city!" came the reply.
An argument ensued between several of the guards, regarding whether to abandon their posts to help fight the blaze or to stay at their posts. Many of the warriors did not wait for permission and streamed up the street towards the centre of the city, calling out concerns for homes and families. Unseen, the group of "drunks" sidled closer to the towers and gate.
Noran saw that there was nobody at the door of the closest tower and slipped inside. Treading lightly, he walked up the wooden stairs within. He turned on a landing and came face to face with a bearded warrior heading the other way.
"What are you doing?" the guard demanded.
"Better view from the wall," Noran replied and pushed past, not giving the man any time to refuse.
The guard looked as if he would stop Noran for a moment, but ignored him and carried on down the steps. Noran found a steep flight of steps at the top of the tower and pulled himself up to the battlement of the wall.
There were more than a dozen men on the stretch of rampart between the towers, all of them looking into the city at the flames spreading from building to building. From this vantage point Noran could see hundreds crowded into the streets close to the dawnward wall, while chieftains in long cloaks waved swords around and ordered groups this way and that to fetch water or rally more people.
Noran glanced over his shoulder, out of the city. He could see nothing in the dark, but he knew that out there somewhere was Ullsaard and his legion. They could surely see the fire now and would be on their way.
The thud of footsteps heralded the arrival of Nidan and halfa-dozen of the men at the top of the wall.
"You can't be up here," one of the guards said, shouldering past Noran to berate the new arrivals.
Nidan drew his sword and plunged it into the man's throat.
Behind Noran, the guards shouted in alarm and readied their spears and shields. The noble threw himself aside and skulked at the bottom of the parapet as the guards ran towards Nidan and his soldiers. The Magilnadan warriors didn't give him a second glance as they pressed towards the armed men coming out of the tower. As soon as they passed him, Noran rose to his feet, sword in hand.
He ran to the edge of the wall and looked down at the gate arch. Bodies littered the ground; he recognised a couple of them as his own men, but most were guards cut down by the surprise attack, dead before they could even raise a shout of warning. Certain that nobody down there was going to be calling for help, he turned his attention to the men fighting the legionnaires.
He thrust his sword into the back of the nearest guard and was struck by how unlike the measured, ceremonial duels of the bloodfields the hack and slash really was. Another man turned to see what had happened to his falling companion, to be greeted by the edge of Noran's sword in his face. The man fell back with a scream and Noran leapt after him, stabbing and stabbing, driving his swordpoint into the man's chest and gut over and over, even after he had fallen to his back and lay still.
A guard swung backwards with his shield as he fought, unintentionally smashing it into Noran's shoulder. Noran stumbled and lost his grip on his sword, the weapon clattering beneath the feet of another guard. Noran back-stepped quickly as the Magilnadan turned on him, but the threat was short-lived; Nidan's sword took the man across the shoulder and darted back into his groin with a splash of blood. The second captain stepped over the twitching corpse, stooped to pick up Noran's sword, and handed it to him hilt-first.
A quick glance confirmed that the only living men at the gatehouse were Noran's. By the flickering light of torches stretching left and right along the wall, Noran could see nobody else.
He peered out into the night, waiting to see the first sign of Ullsaard's approach.
VII
With Furlthia in tow, Anglhan walked through the gate of Magilnada, feeling very much like the conquering lord though he had not had to strike a single blow himself. Once he was through the gate, he entered one of the towers and skipped up the steps as quickly as his heavy build would allow, and was panting by the time he pulled himself up onto the stones of the wall. Noran was there with a few others that had opened the gate; he seemed surprised by Anglhan's arrival.
"Where is Ullsaard?" said the Askhan.
"Down there somewhere," Anglhan replied, waving a hand towards the city, "having some fun with his troops."
"It looks like utter chaos," said Noran.
Anglhan could see all the way across Magilnada, now illuminated by several fires, the largest being the one started in the tanneries. Groups of Ullsaard's men roamed the streets with spears and flaming torches, herding the inhabitants this way and that. The greater part of the attacking army had pushed through the streets to the Hill of Chiefs and was busy battering at doors and throwing brands onto thatched roofs. Atop the wall to either side, other companies had fanned out, taking prisoner or killing any guards they encountered. In the square behind the gate, several companies guarded the streets to make sure nobody in the city could leave.
"It's a great deception," Anglhan told Noran. He pointed to their right, where a cluster of men were standing around a number of sizeable buildings not far from the marketplace. "It looks like a bunch of rebels running amok, but it's all been carefully worked out. That's the grain stores secured. Others have taken the armouries, the treasuries. See how none of them have entered the shrine gardens? That's all part of the plan too. And the chieftains are being rounded up. Ullsaard's got a list of names of those that are likely to cause the most trouble; they'll be killed in the fighting. Those that will be helpful, they'll be taken captive if possible."
It was a remarkable sight. The Askhans were everything Anglhan had hoped they would be, and in many ways much more. Two hundred years of expansion had honed their conquering skills to the sharpest edge; two hundred years of the legions had turned bands of individual warriors into a something far more dangerous, capable of overwhelming anything and everything they had been sent against. Even now, masquerading as incompetent rebels and with poor equipment, the legionnaires were unstoppable. Dawn was still several hours away, and yet the city was already in their hands.