A Shout for the Dead (32 page)

'Everything all right, centurion?' asked Adranis.

The four legionaries snapped to attention. Adranis waved them to ease.

'I think so, sir. There was some shouting over at the border gate but it seems to have subsided.' 'I thought I heard something.'

'Probably a fight over cards or something, sir,' said the centurion. 'All quiet now.'

Indeed it was. Adranis felt a little silly. He'd tried to do the nonchalant enquiry but they all knew he'd hurried up here because something had made him that touch nervous. They didn't know why and neither did he but career soldiers would chat and inevitably he'd be the butt of a few jokes. Roberto always said you should let the rank and file see your human side. Adranis didn't think he meant it in quite this way.

A breeze blew across the bridge and into his face. Almost like someone blowing air directly at him. He frowned. The wind was across them, surely, and directed downstream.

'Did you—?' he began.

The air stilled. Adranis heard a rumbling sound, emanating from beyond the border gate. In moments, the noise had eclipsed his every thought. It became a battering roar. Just before the torches and fires were snuffed out on the border fort, he saw windows and shutters explode outwards, sending lethal splinters down towards the bridge. And what looked like a dark cloud streamed around the gate and surged across the bridge.

'Oh dear God,' muttered Adranis. 'Down! Down!'

He had no idea if the others could hear him. He dropped to the ground, dragging the centurion with him, yelling for the legionaries to take covet. The cloud impacted the fort and gates. It thrashed across the balcony. Adranis covered his head with his hands. He heard a thrumming on castle stone and a beating against wood and marble. Somerhing fell across his legs. He was peppered with dust and what felt like small stones. Wind howled around him. The balcony shook, the very foundations of the castle were rattling and vibrating. Distantly, he thought he could hear screams but he dared not look up into the maelstrom.

It went on and on, a purgatory that he feared would have no end. The dust thickened around him, making him cough. Adranis had to raise his head from the floor of the balcony to avoid choking. His face was raw where particles had scoured him, even here behind cover. His hands, he could just about see, were covered in dust. The lanterns and fire on the balcony had long since been extinguished but the pale moonlight swam through the thick cloud.

The wind dropped. Briefly, grit and dirt fell like rain.

Adranis became aware of several sounds at once. Shouting, alarm, orders and pain. He heard moaning nearby. He dragged himself to his knees, feeling the weight fall from his legs. He felt faint and shook his head to dislodge dirt and what he saw now to be sand. He knew he had to move fast. No doubt the Tsardon would be able to take advantage of the sandstorm, if such it had been, sent on a wind that tasted bitter and rotten.

'Start small, be right,' he said to himself, Roberto's words a comfort. 'Keep calm. Assess the immediate.'

The centurion was moving and looked unhurt. Adranis turned and had to stop himself gasping. The weight on his legs had been one of the legionaries. No one but God could offer him hope now. His face was gone. Scoured clean. His eyes were full of blood and bone showed through the skin around his jaws, nose and brows. The other two legionaries were moving but struggling.

'Centurion?'

'I'm all right, sir. What happened?'

'Let me worry about that. See to your men, those you can help.'

Adranis stood up, feeling his heart thumping hard. He looked out over the balcony. He'd read that when a volcano erupted, the ash covered everything. It was just like this. Every outline was indistinct, almost like it had snowed. There were drifts of dust against the gates and bodies lying on the bridge. Soldiers who had been afforded no warning and no opportunity to find cover.

He looked to his left, and quickly to his right. The towers and artillery platforms were dark, looming shadows. He thought he could make out movement but it was vague. Some people were alive but he was only certain of that because of the screams and shouts. Somewhere, calls for order were being made. A lantern flared in the darkness above and to his right.

Adranis's ears were roaring, his eyes beginning to adjust to the half light and gloom. At his feet, one of the legionaries moaned, deep in agony and barely conscious.

'It's all right,' said the centurion. 'You'll be fine. Help is coming.'

He looked up and caught Adranis's gaze. He shook his head.

'What happened?' he asked.

'A dust storm, I suppose,' said Adranis. 'Never seen anything like it.'

'How can it be?' An edge of panic was in the centurion's voice. 'It came from nowhere. It isn't dry enough. And look. There are stones. Chips of granite. Like someone picked up the road the other side of the gate and threw it at us.'

The centurion was right. It didn't make any sense. Adranis tried not to think too hard about it. The Tsardon were beyond a severely weakened border fort. If they had escaped the storm, they might well seize the opportunity. Security was everything. Adranis looked back over the bridge. There was no light at all in the fort. No braziers on the artillery platform, no lanterns in the rear gatehouse.

'They can't all be dead,' he said. 'Can they?'

Adranis heard a creaking sound, joined by others. Artillery windlasses being winched on the border fort platform. He didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. He had to pray it was no more than caution because if the Tsardon chose to attack, they would find the defence not up to the challenge. He, Kell, Nunan and Roberto needed time.

The rear gates were opening onto the bridge. Adranis froze. Within the growing clamour that was overtaking the castle on which he stood, he felt within a well of silence. The echoes of the wind blew around his ears and his skin raged with the sand and grit lodged there. He felt vulnerable but with no will to move a muscle. The gap between the doors yawned wide. People spilled out onto the bridge. His people, Conquord people. Perhaps thirty, running headlong across the span. Looking behind them, shouting for the castle gates to be opened. Consumed with fear.

Adranis waited just for a moment, until the Tsardon emerged after them. He had to be sure. But they didn't come. Instead, behind came more in the livery of the Conquord and the Gosland border militia. Not running, walking. Adranis frowned. Something wasn't right about them and the way they moved. It was a little slow and clumsy, even. He looked back to those rushing towards the castle, approaching the gates, their voices loud and panicked.

He made to speak to the centurion but the onager arms at the fort thudded into their rests. Stones whined into the sky. For a heartbeat, he watched them.

'God-embrace-me,' he breathed, then shouted. 'Cover!'

For the second time, he grabbed the centurion, this time diving through the balcony doorway and tumbling onto the stairs. The stones smashed into the castle. Lumps of masonry and rubble fell, pounding into the balcony and sending clouds of dust into his face. The centurion pushed himself upright, wanting to get back outside. Adranis's voice stopped him.

'You can't help them now. We have to build a defence. Find the castle captain.'

The centurion nodded, confused and scared. 'Centurion. Calm. Do the simple thing. Be right.' 'Yes, sir.' He ran away down the stairs.

Adranis looked after him. From below, orders were bringing some semblance of calm to the castle. He heard the shout for the gates to be opened and, more distantly, horns calling the legion from their beds. They were away two hundred yards and more, camped on open ground. It would be a long and cruel pause before they could be brought to order and marched to the defence.

Adranis knew what he had to do. He took the stairs three at a time, heading for his room. He had to get his armour and helmet on; and he had to find Roberto.

Chapter Twenty-Three

859th cycle of God, 35th day of
Genasrise

Roberto's aide was chasing after him with breastplate and helmet. Roberto clattered into Kell's and Nunan's quarters to find them already dressed and strapping on their blades. Horns were blowing in the legion camp. The two generals were grim and angry.

'Dammit but we're in the wrong place,' said Nunan.

'We got complacent,' said Kell.

'It doesn't matter now.' Roberto came to a standstill and let his aide place his breastplate over his head and begin to strap it up. The walls of the castle shuddered under further impacts. Screams echoed in the corridors. 'Bring them up to the clear ground behind the castle. Cavalry free on the flanks. Don't come in, keep a line. Remember you are a legion and bred to fight in open spaces. We can't afford to lose hundreds in hand-to-hand in here. I'd rather lose the castle and hold them later.'

'Yes, General.'

'Dina, Pavel. You're in charge. Don't look to me. Make the decisions.' They nodded. 'Good. Go.'

Roberto turned to his aide and held out his hands. His gloves were thrust on. He took his helmet and placed it on his head, feeling the comforting weight and a rush of memories. His heart beat faster, his body charged. Now he had to face a problem that should have been dealt with a decade ago. He'd smelled this air before and he knew exactly what it meant. The Conquord was about to pay for the mercy of the past.

'Get yourself safe, Herides,' he said to his aide. 'Go to the camp.' 'My place is here by your side,' said Herides. 'It always has been.' Roberto placed a hand on his shoulder. The man who stared back at him still had the eyes of the one he had taken into his service on the Tsardon battlefield all those years ago. But illness had robbed him of strength and brought a tremble to his limbs.

'I have been a long time out of this armour but I still retain legion papers. You do not and should not place yourself in the path of danger. It is your mind, I need, my friend. Keep it safe.'

'My General,' said Herides.

'Never could call me anything else could you?'

'No other name seemed to fit.'

Roberto headed for the door. Men and women were running past in the direction of the bridge gates. Armour rattled and spears glinted in the light from lanterns being relit across the castle. Herides went right, Roberto left. Coming down the stairs from the balcony, was Adranis. Relief was keen. The two men shared a brief embrace.

'You need your armour,' said Roberto.

'I know. Listen, Roberto. These aren't Tsardon stones hitting us. They've turned the catapults on the platform. We have to assume the Tsardon have taken the fort. Survivors are at our gates and more are behind them but
...'

Roberto looked into his brother's eyes and saw confusion.

'What is it? Come on, anything.'

'The ones following on. Something's wrong with them.' 'And the storm that hit us,' said Roberto, beginning to add it all together. 'It didn't feel natural, did it?' Adranis shook his head. 'No.'

'That's because it wasn't. Get yourself dressed. Meet me back at the gates. We're going to need your courage, brother. The rogue Ascendant has come to call.'

Roberto ran towards the gates. One had been opened to admit the terrified militia. The doorway was crowded with soldiers. Roberto shouted people from his path and elbowed his way to gain a view. He tried to ignore the words he was hearing and the anxiety that they fed into those guarding the gates.

'Hold all of them, Captain,' he said to the castle's commander. 'We need statements from each and every one.'

'Yes, sir,' she said. 'You heard the ambassador. Take them to the mess hall. Warm drinks and whatever you can find to feed them.'

'The Bear Claws are coming,' said Roberto. 'Let's not think this fight lost.'

Further stones tumbled into the castle structure. Dust and plaster fell.

'This place will stand that all night,' called the captain. 'Hold your stations. Archers to the ramparts.'

Roberto looked out of the open gate. Conquord citizens were moving across the bridge. Behind them, in the fort now blazing with new light, a Tsardon flag was unfurled on the artillery platform. Enemy forces massed in the gateway and crowded every window. At first he thought they were cheering but they weren't.

'Close the gate,' he said. 'Do it now.'

'But sir, we need our people inside,' said the captain. 'There's no danger.'

'No? Did you not hear what those who ran in were saying?' 'But you can't believe that. It's a trick.'

'All I know is that I can see people stuck with arrows walking this way. People who should be dead.' He raised his voice. 'Close the gate.'