The Scarab Path (55 page)

Angved
spent a long time passing the telescope back and forth, in minute increments.
‘Big walls,’ he said at last. ‘Big old walls. Carved real pretty too, it looks
like.’

‘That
doesn’t count as a professional opinion,’ Hrathen growled. ‘How will the
leadshotters fare?’

‘Sir,’
replied the engineer, ‘given that it never rains round here, they might as well
have made those walls of paper and spared themselves the effort.’

Hrathen
frowned down at him. ‘So confident?’

Angved
shrugged. ‘I’ve seen Beetle-kinden walls, and those aren’t them. Those are
great big blocks of stone set one on another, all beautifully cut and dressed,
but there are walls and walls. We could bring those walls down with trebuchet
and rock-throwers, maybe a tenday’s investment, maybe less. With leadshotters?
We’ll have a breach in two days at the most. This is old, sir. It’s all
old
work. When they built these walls, my trade wasn’t
exactly foremost in their minds.’

Hrathen
nodded thoughtfully. ‘So now we just have to get there.’

‘They’ve
moved their army out, then?’

‘Just
started to come for us, it looks like.’

‘It’s
what I’d do, too. With walls like that, they must know they can’t withstand a
siege. A victory on the field is their best chance.’

Hrathen
shook his head. ‘Not like that, apparently. It sounds like this is what they
always do whenever the Scorpions come for them. They tend to win, too, so you
can see why they’ve not changed the recipe. The Scorpions have all sorts of
excuses, but it comes down to basics. The Khanaphir are better disciplined, and
the Many were never
this
many, before. Also, the
Khanaphir had a superiority at range – with bows and the like.’

‘Well, I
can’t say we’ve entirely solved the discipline problem,’ Angved observed.
‘Still, your woman there, Jakal, she seems to have them well in line.’

‘We work
within our limits,’ said Hrathen. He had spent last night with Jakal, talking
over what tactics they could reliably impose on the Scorpion warbands. Talking
them over, and nothing further, despite what he had hoped for.
The bitch is stringing me along, and she’s enjoying every minute
of it
. He could challenge her, he knew. He could try to take her by
force, but that would not achieve the Empire’s goals here.
And
let me be honest with myself: I don’t think I would succeed
. She had not
become the Warlord of the Many by anything less than ruthlessness and skill.

‘The
crossbowmen are looking good,’ Angved remarked idly. ‘They’ve picked up the
idea of shooting all together, at least. When we started they were all for just
popping off a shot and then up with the axe and go charging in. We were lucky
to find that caravan. Live targets make all the difference for practice.’

The
caravan had been a little convoy of foreigners, tomb robbers and relic hunters
set on pillaging the ruins of the outer desert. They had been heavily armed,
forming up around their wagons and hoping to stand the Scorpion outriders off,
but instead of simply descending on them with knives and hatchets, Hrathen had
sent for the crossbowmen.

It had
been bloody work, and not swift. The thieves and their hangers-on had tried to
stay together, to find cover, as the crossbows had loosed and loosed. The
Scorpions had begun to learn the joys of killing at a distance: now the same
crossbowmen would not trade a kill at thirty yards for all the savage delight
of getting their claws bloody. It had been a useful object lesson, as they had
begun to understand the archer’s pride and joy in seeing the enemy wither and
fall, without ever having a chance to fight back. For a Scorpion it was no
great mental leap.

‘Your
woman’s coming,’ Angved reported, and prudently absented himself, heading off
to check the siege engines. Hrathen turned to greet Jakal, finding her in her
full armour, spear in hand.

‘I have
spoken to the chiefs,’ she said. ‘We have our battle order, as you call it.’

‘Is it
as we discussed?’

Her
strange eyes regarded him. ‘I have taken those I like least, or those who will
not stand the fight, and made them our centre. I have gone among the others, telling
them not to worry if these break, since they are marked as weak. The crossbows
will make the claws on either side, with the better warriors, and you yourself
have the sting.’

‘Lieutenant
Angved has the sting, yes,’ Hrathen agreed. ‘The weapons are designed for
siege, not open field work, but it has been known. It will test the crews.’

Jakal
shrugged, one clawed hand spread wide. ‘Let them be tested, then. Have you
found a place for yourself in all this planning, Of-the-Empire?’

‘Of
course. I shall drive your chariot.’

He had
amused her at last. ‘Will you, indeed? And you are so used to chariots in your
Empire that even the word was strange to you, at first.’

‘But
your beasts will know their work,’ he said. ‘And I shall speak with them, and
let them instruct me.’

‘And you
will follow my orders, without question?’

‘I have
brought you weapons, and the knowledge of how to use them,’ he reminded her.
‘Now you must use them – use them as you will. I shall bow my head to you, for
as long as the battle lasts.’

Beneath
the rim of her helm she was smiling. ‘Have I conquered the Empire now?’ she
teased, one thumb claw coming up to rest along the line of his chin. ‘Well
then, you shall indeed have that honour.’ Her eyes met his directly now, bold
and fierce and utterly unlike the eyes of any Imperial woman. ‘Perhaps you
shall have other honours, when we have driven them from the field. Perhaps we
shall celebrate, you and I, if I am pleased with you.’

The
plume of dust that the Khanaphir army was raising was more clearly visible.
They wanted to fight the Scorpions far enough from the city that the river
would not become a barrier at their back. Hrathen was fretting at a lack of
scouts, but he did not want to risk any Wasps to the bows of the enemy, and the
Scorpions had no fliers, and slower cavalry than the defenders. He was obliged
to rely on his telescope and the reports he had heard of older conflicts. At
least the Khanaphir did not seem to be the type to innovate.

The
difficulty, as he had discussed with Jakal, was to make best use of the Many’s
new-found advantages. The crossbows were slower than the shortbows the
Khanaphir favoured, but they outranged them.
And perhaps
not really so much slower, for that matter
. They were the old Imperial
heavy crossbows for which the archers were supposed to draw the string back by
winch, but most of the Scorpions had notched their thumb-claws and were
tensioning the weapons by hand in half the usual time. The Empire had not
considered just how
strong
they were. There would be
more than a few broken claws by the battle’s end, more than a few broken
crossbows for that matter, but they had quickly made the weapons their own. It
only remained to give them the best chance to use them.

The
normal Khanaphir tactics were reliable and unimaginative, from what he had been
told. They fielded an infantry-strong army with good cavalry wings and archer
support. It was not something out of the Imperial tactics textbooks, but he could
see the strengths and weaknesses. The Scorpions were more mobile, so that meant
that, for a decisive victory, the Khanaphir would at some point have to come to
them and follow them up. Otherwise the fight would go on all day, with the
Scorpions picking and choosing the targets of their strikes.

The
Khanaphir would understand the same thing, Hrathen was counting on it. The
plans had been made, so no point worrying about them now. They would deform and
change as soon as they met the enemy, just as plans always did. The Scorpions
were not a disciplined force, but the Khanaphir knew that too, and it became
just one more factor that a clever general could use.

He
stretched and went off to see about Jakal’s chariot, to have a talk with her
beasts and set them straight.

The army of Khanaphir marched tirelessly, as Beetles could. To Hrathen it
was a great row of white squares, reinforced with steel in the centre where
their heavy infantry was posted. On the flanks there was an odd mixture of the
Mantis-kinden skirmishers, Khanaphir archers and chariots. The beetle cavalry,
seated on its long-legged black animals, was taking a wide path in order to
flank the Scorpions when the forces were engaged.

‘How do
their riders stack up to ours?’ he asked. Their chariot jolted and bounced,
finding its place on the Many’s left flank. He could feel the minds of the
animals, keen and hungry. Each had an armoured shield fixed to its outside
pincer and barding of chitin over its back.

‘They
are faster, but scorpions will kill beetles if they catch them. They will hold
off until they can catch us unawares, perhaps come all the way round behind
us,’ Jakal told him. The chariots are different …’ She stopped, gave a
particularly vicious laugh. ‘Or they were until we got your crossbows. I’ve
told them to aim for the beasts first.’

‘And
your soldiers will stay with the plan?’ The chariot was in place now, amongst a
slew of other vehicles arrayed about the Scorpions’ left flank.

‘Probably.’
Jakal shrugged. ‘Mostly.’ The Khanaphir had stopped now, waiting. Hrathen saw
their front rank bristling with spears. Behind them were archers, identifiable
at this range because they had no shields. The Beetles would wait for as long
as it took, Hrathen knew. They were a naturally more patient people, but it was
all taken care of in the plan.

Jakal
took up a bulbous horn made from a hollowed-out stinger, took a great breath
and sounded it. The strange, wailing note sounded out across the restless,
uneven lines of the Many’s war host. Instantly it was eclipsed by a great roar,
a thousand Scorpion throats cheering on the initial charge. The centre of the
lines surged forward, a great mass of halberdiers and axemen rushing for the
Khanaphir centre. Hrathen steadied the chariot beasts, feeling in his mind
their instinctive urge to follow, looking to his right to assure himself that
not
too
much of the host had just committed itself.
He felt a wash of relief when he saw that at least two-thirds of the infantry
was still waiting, although milling angrily, obviously exercising every drop of
restraint they possessed. On either side of that belligerent centre were the
crossbowmen, looking already more ordered and disciplined, as though he had
sewn Wasp brains into their heads. He and Jakal had gone over the plan with
their chiefs in great detail, so they knew their glory would come.

The sky
above the charging Scorpions turned abruptly dark. The Khanaphir archers had
loosed their first volley, arrows arching over their own spearmen to impact
among the onrushing warriors. If the Scorpions, unevenly armoured as they were,
had come charging in a block, then they would have been slaughtered. Their own
lack of discipline helped them in this one thing, for their running mass was so
loosely knit that, although the sleeting shafts killed many, there were just as
many missed shots as the arrows fell into the gaps between them.

That was
the first volley, and the shortbows of the Khanaphir did not have the range of
a proper battlefield weapon, but the second volley caused havoc amongst the
Scorpions’ rear ranks as they pressed closer in anticipation of making impact –
the Khanaphir arcing their arrows high to fall on them, making exquisite use of
the limited tools they possessed.

Hrathen
grinned, his hands tightening on the reins in anticipation.

The
Scorpion vanguard struck, and he saw the enemy line bow under the force of them
– under the great cleaving blows of axe and halberd. Scorpions were not
soldiers at heart, but they were warriors: they knew how to fight. They were
taller, stronger, longer-armed and vastly more bloodthirsty by nature than
their foes. The Beetle lines bent before them, even as dozens of Scorpions died
on the enemy’s levelled spears.

The
charge had struck at the point where the Khanaphir light infantry met the Royal
Guard. The unarmoured militia buckled helplessly, shields cracking and
splitting under the Scorpions’ ferocious blows, the men behind trying to give
ground in order to stay out of the reach of the hacking polearms. The Guard
pressed forward even as the Scorpions advanced and Hrathen saw swords rising
and falling behind their solid line of shields. They were now butchering the
men confronting them, turning their front line into a flank, rolling up the
Scorpion advance. Behind them, more shields were stepping forward to keep the
line intact. It was an impressive display of military order.

Now the
Scorpions were falling back. The Khanaphir pursued them a dozen yards before
re-forming seamlessly, as though they had not lost a man. The Scorpions outpaced
them in their retreat, then turned around ready for another charge. By now
their numbers were greatly reduced, but they did not seem to care.
Fighting spirit
, Jakal had called it, and their blood was
up. She seemed to think it made them more dangerous as a people, though Hrathen
had kept silent and reflected on how an Imperial army would exploit such a
weakness.

The
Scorpion vanguard tried another assault under the raining arrows of the
Khanaphir archers. Hrathen could feel the restlessness of the main army
reaching a fever pitch. Even as he had the thought, he heard Jakal say, ‘We
can’t keep them back much longer. Nature shall take its course.’

The
second advance was a shambles. The Scorpions faltered before the strike, losing
even more men to the archers and denying themselves the impetus of their
charge. When they struck the Khanaphir line, they broke and ran almost at once,
an utter rout. The Khanaphir followed them up, further this time, no doubt
heartened by the predictability of their foes.