A Shout for the Dead (92 page)

Iliev turned them away from the harbour mouth and made for the blank sea-facing wall of the south fort. Atop it, he could see engineers and harbour guards working furiously to prime catapults. Smoke from the barrels of pitch that would be burning low by now, obscured much of its roof.

'Easing back, twenty stroke. Heading into fort shadow and calm water. Time to climb, marines.'

At sight of the approaching corsair, rope ladders were flung from the roof. Escape ladders on another day. They fell to just a couple of feet from the gentle swell. Iliev brought the corsair in spike first.

Kashilli ran out along it, grabbed the nearest ladder and hauled, balancing his weight to swing the corsair in. Oarsmen raised and stowed their blades.

'Let's be having you,' said Kashilli.
‘I
'm not holding onto this thing purely for my health.'

Squad seven attacked the climb, moving up hand over hand, swift dark marks against the bright white-painted stone of the fortress. Iliev watched them go. Not a one of them had fallen since Kester Isle. Not a one had been victim of Bitter's Plague.

'Let's remember our brothers less fortunate,' he called up. 'Every dead we drop is tiny recompense. There's a lot of dead to go before we achieve balance in the eyes of Ocetarus.'

Iliev and Kashilli took the ladders last. Kashilli had tied off the corsair and had his sledgehammer rammed in his belt at the back. The shaft bounced off his legs with every move up.

'Don't much care for dry land, skipper,' he said. 'But where the enemy go ...'

'The Ocenii follow. And we make our own sea of bad blood.'

Kashilli smiled at him. It was an old Ocenii saying, and it was a long time since it had been made reality.

Breasting the crenellations, Iliev could feel the heat of the burning docks hit him like a heavy slap in the face. He blew out his cheeks and dropped to the roof. Every man came to attention and he waved them away.

'You have better things to do. Carry on.'

Iliev and Kashilli strode to the harbour-side wall to join Master Stertius and Marshal Vasselis. They looked over the side. Iliev barely recognised the scene as Estorr's docks. He caught Kashilli's expression and raised his eyebrows.

'Admiral Iliev,' said Vasselis. 'Well met, even if the manner of your arrival was a little, unorthodox.'

'We'd have rowed in the front door but I see you have it barred against the odd intruder,' said Iliev.

A dense cloud of black smoke and ash was building in the sky overhead, fed by the flames of what had to be two hundred and more ships moored sometimes three deep along the dockside. They made an impenetrable barrier which the dead would not cross. But the fires would soon begin to burn out as ships' hulls were breached and sank.

The Tsardon ships already inside the harbour were standing off the dockside, waiting. Living Tsardon sailors were trying to douse some of the blazes as best they could but the dead just waited. And all the while, scorpions and ballistae were knocking them down, holing their craft. Target practice. The dead, though, unless broken in the lower back or with legs pulped, simply got up again and retook their places.

Forty enemy ships were there as time fled away to the moment when they could assault the shore. Tsardon not engaged in fire duties were arcing arrows over the burning defence. Men were getting injured. Some would be getting killed. Iliev chewed his lip, knowing it was just a matter of time before they would rise once more.

The catapults on the forts sang again. Stones and bolts flew out into the harbour mouth. A Tsardon trireme was struck amidships, just above the second oar rank. The flaming onager stone smashed through timber and man. Oars jerked up or were splintered, shivered in their blocks. The whole ship moved sideways. A gout of water spewed from the hole; the stone had pierced the hull. Smoke and flame could be seen within.

Before long, whoever could make it past the forts would have done so and Stertius would have to reposition his artillery. This phase of the fight for Estorr was almost at an end. The next was soon to begin. Kashilli hefted his sledgehammer in his hand. It was a gesture full of meaning but if any missed it, the growl in his throat was confirmation enough. Iliev nodded.

'The docks are full of infantry but will they stand?' he said. 'They do not have the right weapons to combat the dead.'

'There is nowhere for them to run,' said Stertius. 'The dead are at the walls north and south. They have ladders and they have no fear. But we should be able to hold them there. If the city is not to be overrun we have to.'

'Braver men than either of us have quailed before the walking dead,' said Iliev. 'Reason alone will not keep them standing. We have had some success. I will lead the ground defence.'

Vasselis whistled in a breath. 'Your place is here, Admiral. Directing battle. We need your experience.'

Iliev shook his head. 'I am Ocenii. Experience is nothing today. Courage is everything. That and Kashilli's hammer.'

'Then may the Omniscient smile upon you. For he surely turned from us the moment the first fire was lit and the first innocent dead was reduced to ashes.'

‘I
don't care if your God smiles upon me or not. And you have done what you had to do to save your city. Any true God will praise you, not damn you for that.' Iliev turned to Stertius. 'Bring your artillery round now. Take down as many as you can. Fire is vital. They will walk the harbour bed to the steps unless they are no more than flames on the deck.'

'Yes, Admiral.'

'Kashilli? Let's have seven with us. We have work to do.'

'Skipper,' acknowledged Kashilli. 'Squad seven! Rest time is over. To the gangway. Double time. Axes and hammers, you bastards, axes and hammers.'

Iliev saw the look in Vasselis's eyes. 'Join us, Marshal. You have skill with the blade. I used to watch you at the Games.'

'My days in the arena are long past as, I fear, is my speed and my eye.'

'So be it. But it is the only place to be. Out there, where the blood runs and the enemy fall at your feet.'

'Ocetarus will keep you, Karl Iliev. And you'll find Elise and Marcus down there somewhere. I think both share your opinion.'

Iliev nodded and the need to feel dead bone crush beneath his hammer surged through him.

'The Advocate chooses her advisers well.'

'She did,' said Vasselis and he looked away, down to the ground. 'You do not know that she is dead, do you?' Iliev started. 'What?'

'Many are the deeds that will be retold,' said Vasselis. 'Dedicate yours to her memory. Win this for her, Karl. And when it is over, find me and I will tell you what really happened. Anything you hear on the streets is a falsehood.'

‘I
will not let this City fall to the dead,' said Iliev.

'Then the Advocate's death will not have been in vain.'

Hesther was in the Chancellery with the tenth-strand survivors. Yola, Mina and Petrevius. The youngsters of the eleventh and the little ones of the twelfth strand were already in the safe room in the cellar. Meera and Andreas were looking after them, telling them stories and feeding them sweet foods and drinks. Down there it was quiet and it was as much for that reason as for security that they were there, far from the sounds of invasion.

The palace was secured. Vasselis and Gesteris had seen to that, leaving a good strength of guards and artillery to keep back the dead should the outer defences fall. It was the place where the last battle would be fought if it came to that. The look in Vasselis's eyes when he left told her that he had no real confidence they would live to see out the day.

With two city gates under attack, frightened citizens had few places to go. Those deciding the Hill was the safest bet were outside the Victory gates now, demanding entrance. That time might come. But it was not yet.

The Conquord was on the brink of disaster. The Advocate was dead. No one knew if her first two heirs, Roberto and Adranis were alive or even where they were. The first Ascendants were in Neratharn along with the Exchequer. Only Tuline remained in Estorr and she was lost to grief. Vasselis was holding the threads together but forces were striving to drag them from his grasp every moment.

And despite all this, sitting in the bizarre peace of the Chancellery with shouting and violence muted behind the shutters, Hesther Naravny, Mother of the Ascendancy could only think that these tenth-stranders were acting out scenes from her past in Westfallen. Something like that anyway, because she was damned sure she'd seen all these characters before.

'They wanted to kill us a couple of days ago,' said Yola. 'Now they come here wanting sanctuary. Let them die.'

'What a fantastic outlook on life. You must be so proud.' said Petrevius.

'Meaning?'

'Meaning they were angry because me, you and Mina managed to kill hundreds of their friends. Surely we should be extending the olive branch. Doing everything we can to help them. Put them on our side.'

'Ar ...' Hesther put a hand to her mouth. 'I'm sorry, I mean Petrevius is right. When this is over, we will need acceptance all over again. They might forget the violent breaking of a demonstration. They won't forget friends sacrificed to the dead because the Ascendancy kept the gates closed on them.'

'But they don't deserve it,' said Yola, her face was flushed and angry. 'If they had believed in us from the start, none of this would have happened. It's them who should be saying sorry to us.'

'Don't be an idiot, Yola,' said Petrevius. 'Most of them were just following what the Order told them to follow. But the Chancellor is dead now too, so we can start again.'

'You're the naive one, Petre. It'll be like before with Ardu and the rest. They'll love us for a day and then they'll turn against us.'

'So what do you suggest?' asked Hesther. 'Our path is not littered with choices, is it?'

'Not everyone hates us,' said Yola. 'Let the rest die and keep those who feel for us.'

'And you'll be the one to choose, will you?' Petrevius was unable to stay seated any longer. 'Who gave you the right to decide who lives and who dies?'

'I'm not choosing. Except to do nothing.'

'Oh, Yola.' Hesther sighed. It was the sigh of disappointment and the sharp-tongued seventeen-year-old still reacted to it. 'You've lived here all your life and you haven't learned a thing. You have to win arguments. Herine will be turning in God's embrace hearing your words.'

'Look where it got her,' said Yola. 'For all the arguments she might have won, she lost the biggest of them all and now she is dead. We have to go our own way. Be strong for those who love us and want us. Not for those fickle ones who hammer on the gates pretending to forgive us.'

'Then let's do that,' said Mina, speaking for the first time. Her voice was tiny. She was struggling badly with what they had done. 'There are people out there standing willing to die for people like us. Let's help them.'

Hesther smiled. 'And how will you do that? I thought you were refusing to work anything that might hurt people.' 'Yola knows something.'

'Shut up, Mina, I told you not to say anything.' 'Well I don't always listen to everything you say. Anyway, this is important.'

Hesther stared at Yola until she could not help but blush. 'Well?'

'A Land Warden feels things in the ground. Things that other Ascendants can't. Even the best.'

'It was me told you that, wasn't it?' said Hesther.

Yola nodded. 'When I was wondering why things came to me through my feet, or so it seemed.'

'And what have you felt?'

'The dead. Now they are close, if I push out with my mind, I can sense them. Or rather I can sense the lack of life energy, but it's still moving, if you see what I mean.'

Hesther straightened.
‘I
have felt it too but I didn't really know what it meant. Go on.'

'Well, beneath the earth something in the base energies is changed. The slow-moving gentle powers we love so much, Land Wardens like us? They are altered.'

'She thinks it's what drives the dead, makes them move,' said Mina.

Hesther opened her mouth then covered it with a hand, hoping. Hoping.

'And can you do something with it?' she asked. Yola nodded.
‘I
think so.' 'What, child?'

‘I
can interrupt it, I think. Or make it so the changed energies can't advance. Like a barricade or something. If it works it'll make the dead stop.'

Hope kindled inside Hesther. Real hope they would escape all this. 'Over how wide an area can you project this work? The City?' 'No,' said Yola. 'Too big. But on the palace, I can. This is home, I understand how the energies work here.' 'Are you sure it will stop them?'