Pyramid of Blood (Swords Versus Tanks Book 3) (10 page)

A hush descended on the battle. Nobody spoke. There was only the eerie sound of the survivors of the last clash breathing heavily, the rustle of thousands of feathers, and the whine of Jasmine’s approaching airship. At least she would live to tell the tale of his final deed of arms.

Ranulph took his left hand off Steelcutter to mop his brow. It came back bloody. He glanced up at the platform. The shieldwall seemed thinner but it still held. Perhaps the standoff would buy them breathing space to escape on the airship.

“There are worse ends,” declared Osmund, behind Ranulph. “I will toast you in Valhalla.”

Ranulph grinned. A decent God would have a raucous spot in Heaven reserved for pagan warriors with such prowess. His right ankle twinged. He shook it out and made circles with his foot. So much to do, so many plans. A kingdom to save, a princess to champion, but it was all to end here. Without turning his head, Ranulph said, “Osmund, shall we rush their chief?”

“Aye,” said Osmund. “An even better end. We’ll form a wedge, you guard our backs.”

The other two survivors grunted agreement.

Ranulph frowned. His place was at the front, but his arms were tiring and an armoured three-man wedge might
just
be able to shove a path through to the enemy captain. Ranulph spoke evenly so as not to give the Tolmecs warning. “Let us get our breath back. In a moment I shall count to three — then we attack.”

Somebody amongst the Tolmecs barked orders. The front ranks stiffened, raised their axes. The perfect moment had passed.

Ranulph shrugged. God’s Judgement at work. The Church could keep its stolen magic. The Invasion would play out without him. Even so, he would still get his final deed of arms. “Very well, gentlemen. One… two…”

#

A perfect circle opened up in the mass of Tolmecs at the pyramid’s base. In the middle stood Ranulph and three barbarians.

Nearer the steps rose a stick with two skulls on it.

Jasmine smiled grimly. The Tolmec command group. She brought the guns around and pulled the trigger. The guns roared. Twin streams of tracer hosed the area, splashing ripples of death through the close-packed army.

Jasmine fired until her gun barrels glowed red.

The Tolmecs broke and streamed back down the stairs, or tumbled and climbed down the great steps of the pyramid, which now rushed toward Jasmine.

She grabbed the headset and fumbled with SEND. "Wisdom-at-Night, pull up, girl! Pull the stick back!"

The airship tilted into a steeper dive.

“Crazy bitch!” Jasmine threw herself out of the gun turret and scrambled up the heaving gantry.

Behind her, the gun turret cracked into the base of the pyramid. The gantry bucked, buckled. Metal screamed. She curled her fingers and toes into the aluminium lattice, lost her grip — fell — then slammed into a pile of bodies.

Jasmine lay still, winded, enveloped by the scent of blood and voided bowels, staring up at the dark blue sky, and feeling flies lap sweat from her naked skin.

A movement triggered her instincts. She rolled to her feet, drawing her combat dagger as she rose. An axe flashed past. Jasmine’s dagger bit, drew blood.

Another axe. Without thinking, Jasmine pivoted inside the Tolmec’s guard and drove her elbow into his nose.

A third man raised his weapon. She disembowelled him and looked around for more opponents.

Sir Ranulph lowered his sword. "This Valkyrie requires no rescue!"

The barbarians behind him laughed.

Ten survivors out of thirty-two, realised Jasmine, most of them wounded, but all still laughing.

The giant knight bowed. "You have found your prowess, Colonel."

A sharp female voice cut through the damp air — Wisdom-at-Night speaking in her native tongue. The priestess stood perched on the shoulders of two warriors, haranguing the crowd in her own language.

Jasmine mopped the sweat from her eyes. The priestess must have crashed the airship quite deliberately so she could make her speech. Which reminded her…

“Where the fuck’s my ship?”

Ranulph pointed.

Airship 01 hung stern up as if frozen in the moment of impact. It had snagged its forward gantry on the lowest of the stair altars. Meanwhile the elevator bucket was tangled in a small temple. It seemed secure for now.

Ranulph raised Steelcutter’s hilt and, with a bow, dipped the point. It did not seem to bother him that she was naked. "I salute you, Colonel Jasmine Klimt. If you were a gentleman, I would sponsor your knighthood."

Jasmine returned the salute then sheathed her dagger.

She staggered three paces and flopped against him.
Sir Ranulph Dacre thinks me worthy
. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. Then she became aware of the scent of his fresh perspiration, the strength of his arms around her bare waist, and the way the fresh tattoo throbbed and prickled. She looked up into his tired eyes. "But I’m
not
a man."

He shook his head. "If we ever fight, then one
will
slay the other. We can never again be lovers while there is contention between our people."

Jasmine nodded and nestled against him anyway.

"Would you prefer maidens or eunuchs?" asked Wisdom-at-Night. Behind her, two Tolmec warriors bore a bejewelled youth bound to a pole. Further off, the surviving Tolmec warriors now lined the great stair in an honour guard. "Don't worry about them," said the girl. "They have seen the error of their ways and will obey my every command. Now, maidens or eunuchs? Or both?"

"Um," said Jasmine. "I am afraid the airship cannot take passengers."

The priestess gestured at the captive. "If you like," she said, "You can help me offer up the former king's manhood to the Dancing Earth Fish." She smiled expectantly.

Jasmine shook her head. "No thank you," she said, the way her nanny had taught her. "We both have work to do."

Wisdom-at-Night touched her throat. “Very well. The Dancing Earth Fish thanks you. Where once kings reigned, now there shall be queens.” She made to turn away.

Jasmine’s eyes widened. There was something familiar about her words. She’d read them in a book. He heart leapt into her throat. “Wait!” said Jasmine. “We do not know your name.”

“But you do,” said the priestess, looking back over her shoulder. “
Wisdom-at-Night.
” Her lips not in sync with her words.

“Yes”, said Jasmine. “But we only hear it translated into our language.”

“Oh,” said the priestess. “It’s
Tolmatzatl.
”

“Ah,” said Jasmine, a cold sweat breaking out over her body. “Thank you. So long then, Queen Tolmatzatl.”

Jasmine held her breath until the priestess had led her grim procession onto the pyramid’s great stair.

“Come on,” she said, setting off for the snagged gantry. “We have to go.
Now
.”

Ranulph gave her an odd look.

“It’s time,” said Jasmine, “That I got some clothes on.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jasmine threw the engines in reverse. Airship 01 tore itself free leaving most of the gun turret behind. She jettisoned the elevator bucket, cranked the elevator lever and switched to full ahead. The engines coughed and sputtered, but they hauled the airship up over the pyramid just as Wisdom-at-Night’s procession reached the pyramid’s summit. The clifftops passed below, then the white sands. Now they flew out over the darkening ocean with the sunset at their back.

The Northmen cheered.

The big knight slid into the chair next to her. His white shirt was splattered with blood and soaked with sweat. He looked tired and drawn. “Our hostess’s name frightened you.”

Jasmine nodded. “Remember Von Hoflich?”

“The baron who will have should…” Ranulph frowned. “God’s teeth, you time travellers have made a tangle out of our language.”

“Yes, that one,” said Jasmine. “I never told you how he died.”

“You told me that he escaped with one ship out of three.”

“Yes. But he returned with an invasion force. Von Hoflich took out the Tolmec king. I don’t think anybody remembers
his
name. But then this princess took over, made herself queen.”

“And she defeated him?”

Jasmine shook her head. “Glass against steel? Muskets versus spears? No way! She mounted a terror campaign. If a tribe submitted to the Imperials, she descended on it, castrated the men, slaughtered the children… Von Hoflich couldn’t capture her, so he started doing the same to any tribe that
wouldn’t
submit. It wasn’t war, it was an atrocity competition.”

“Invasions often go that way,” said Ranulph, looking her in the eye.

She turned away and pretended to inspect the luminous dials. “It gets worse. Eventually he trapped her in some jungle city. But one night, her people spirited him out of the siege lines. In the morning, the Imperials stormed into the city, only to find every single Tolmec dead — sacrificed — and Von Hoflich minus his skin, still alive — until somebody put him out of his misery.”

“I rejoice that we didn’t meet
her
,” said Ranulph.

“Oh but we did,” said Jasmine. “Her name was Queen Tolmatzatl,”

“God’s teeth!” said Ranulph. “A good thing Saint Ignatius stole their magic…”

He trailed off. They exchanged uneasy looks.

Stolen magic
, thought Jasmine. Wisdom-at-Night —
Tolmatzatl
— had said the same thing. Had Ranulph found
his
magic?

She couldn’t ask.

But she had found
her
magic, she realised; a cold slow-burning wrath that gave her the power to do what was required, but did not stop her from seeing the world clearly.

And now she truly understood Lowenstein’s mysterious offer.

Jasmine and Sir Ranulph might not fight hand-to-hand again, but when the war resumed, it would be with Jasmine, not Williams or any other political deadwood, commanding the Army of the Egality.

“Where to?” she said, looking over her shoulder.

“The Rune Isles, if you please, Colonel,” said Ranulph with a half bow.

#

Two more episodes to go! Find out what happens next in…

SWORDS VERSUS TANKS 4:

“Warlords race for power while the final battle looms”

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