Then there came an almighty crash, which caused everyone to leap out of their skin and whirl round. The shamefaced culprit was the young Bear Corps warrior, Peng Yong, who, his hands perhaps shaking with nervousness, had dropped a china bowl containing yellow paste to the ground, where it had shattered into a thousand pieces, spattering the noxious concoction everywhere. Now he was blanching and trying to stammer out an apology as Commander Chen stalked towards him. Chen thrust his face into the young soldier’s and hissed a string of furious words. Although William didn’t understand what Chen was saying, the way Peng Yong lowered his eyes and nodded miserably suggested he had been dismissed. Sure enough the young soldier left his place in the line and began to trudge through a silent gauntlet of his fellow warriors, shoulders stooped and head down. When his walk of shame brought him parallel with William, William said, “Psst.”
Peng Yong glanced up with an abject expression.
Winking, William whispered, “I used to throw up my supper before every battle. At least what you did isn’t that bad.”
It was clear that Peng Yong didn’t understand him, but he recognized the note of sympathy in William’s voice and gave a thin, grateful smile in response. Then he walked on by, lowering his head again as he passed through the door of the tower and out of sight.
In the corridor below, Pero heard someone coming. Grabbing Ballard’s loose-fitting robe, he dragged him through an arched doorway, then into the black wedge of shadow against the inside wall.
They stood, motionless, hardly daring to breathe, Pero peering through the narrow crack between door and frame. He saw the young man who had mislaid the keys to the stockade a couple of days before trudging past, his oversized armour seemingly weighing heavily on his body.
The two of them waited until the Bear Corps warrior had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, Ballard looking after him curiously. Then Ballard turned his attention to other matters. Waspishly he asked, “Where is William?”
“I don’t know,” said Pero, raising his hands placatingly. “But he’ll be here.”
Ballard looked at him sourly. “He’d better be.”
William was watching Strategist Wang, who had stopped mixing the yellow paste and was now listening attentively. William listened too, and was able to discern a faint hiss coming from the fog.
What’s that? he wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare speak.
Many of the archers perched on the outer battlements now had listening devices pressed to their ears, which to William looked like long battle horns.
For several minutes there was almost complete silence, all eyes fixed on the men with the listening devices. One of them screwed up his face and leaned a little further out, as if trying to pin down an elusive sound…
Suddenly a shadow loomed from the mist beyond him, and an instant later he was snatched from his perch.
He screamed, and as he disappeared from view his listening device flew out of his hand and went spinning away through the murk. Next moment, like a massive shark breaking the surface of a grey sea, a huge red mouth appeared, snatched the listening device out of the air and swallowed it whole!
William had barely taken that in when a number of huge green claws tipped with black talons suddenly appeared over the top of the Wall, gripping on to the stone ledges like grappling hooks. Next moment several Tao Tei heaved themselves up out of the mist and over the Wall.
Instantly Eagle Corps archers began to fire at the Tao Tei, enveloping them in a blizzard of arrows. But although one of the creatures was knocked back immediately and sent tumbling over the battlements to plunge down through the fog to the earth below, the others were only marginally affected. Indeed, the arrows merely angered them rather than disabling them, and before the archers had time to reload the creatures were lashing out with their massive claws. They cut a swathe through the archers, ripping them apart, snatching and grinding them in their jaws.
As more Tao Tei appeared, the Deer Corps soldiers leaped to the fore, thrusting at the creatures with their long lances, aiming for the eyes. Simultaneously Bear Corps warriors ran forward with lines attached to their left wrists, the trailing ends of which they tied swiftly and expertly to hooks on the inner rim of the Wall. The tethered Bear warriors then climbed up on to and over the parapet, the lines enabling them to stand horizontally on the outside of the Wall. Armed with huge axes, they slashed and hacked furiously at the ascending Tao Tei, fighting with such frenzied and fearless purpose that it took William’s breath away.
Despite their bravery, however, it was clear that the Nameless Order were fighting a losing battle. The enemy was simply too plentiful and too strong. Many Tao Tei fell, pierced by lances and arrows, or smashed into oblivion by axes. But for every one that died, another was immediately there to take its place.
The same could not be said of the Nameless Order. Their fighting force was impressive, but it was not infinite. And as the battle raged on, more and more Tao Tei began to break through, to cause devastation in the ranks.
William saw Bear Corps soldier after Bear Corps soldier, like a series of tempting worms for hungry fish, snatched from their moorings and devoured. He saw Eagle Corps and Deer Corps soldiers, their specialist weapons less effective in close combat, being trampled and ripped apart. He saw Lin Mae screaming orders, blue Crane Corps warriors darting about like dragon flies, stabbing and slashing at the enemy.
Every single one of them fought bravely. But it was not enough. It was never going to be enough. And although he was no coward, William thought of Pero and Ballard waiting for him below, of their plan to escape and take as much of the black powder as they could carry with them—and he decided it was time to go.
Pero was in the room he shared with William, grabbing his weapons and stuffing them into his belt, into his boots. Even here, this deep within the complex of corridors, tendrils of fog had infiltrated the interior of the Wall, and were curling and probing, hazing the air. As Pero armed himself he watched Ballard, who was prowling back and forth like a caged animal, his eyes blazing with rage. In the distance the war drums were pounding incessantly, a background beat to the sounds of battle: the clash of metal; the impact of flesh on flesh; screams both human and inhuman.
As an extra loud crash reverberated through the corridors—the unmistakable sound of shattered and tumbling masonry—Ballard whirled towards the doorway, as if half-expecting to see the green bulk of a Tao Tei standing there.
Spit flying from his mouth, veins standing out on his forehead, he snarled, “What curse have I provoked so deeply it plagues me thus?”
Calmly Pero said, “He’ll be here.”
Ballard rounded on him. “When? When it’s over?”
Pero batted away his invective as if it were a troublesome fly. “We’ll make a start. He’ll find us.”
“Start?” Ballard pivoted on his heels, eyes rising to the heavens as if he had never heard anything so idiotic. “As if what? As if we were descending a flight of stairs and might turn back if the fancy became us? We’re jumping from a cliff here!” He waggled his head and began speaking in a simpering falsetto, mocking their earlier questions. “‘Do I have keys?’ ‘Do I know the way?’ I have everything! Keys! Powder! Tools! Maps! It’s all hidden and arranged along the route! Once we start there’s no turning back! Understand?”