The Vitalis Chronicles: Steps of Krakador (35 page)

“
Isn't that right Phelts?” Merodach was laughing about some story, and Phelts had no idea where the conversation had been let alone where it was going.

“
Yeah,” he smiled from the front passenger's seat.

“
You see?” Merodach was apparently lecturing Cram, who sat next to him in the back of the car. They were riding in the center of the small convoy.

“
I don't think forcing Silverdale to pay reparations is justified, sir.” Cram's jaw was set. It seemed that Merodach's ideas of justice were beginning to grate on the colonel-turned-temporary general, and Phelts had to admire that much in him. It took a rare spine to stand up to Merodach in Elandir, especially after everything that had happened recently. “I find it hard to swallow that we're doing it to Liscentia either, to be frank. They need that money to rebuild.”

“
Nonsense!” Merodach slapped his knee and winced. “Desert rats need to give me that money so I can spend it on repairing the damage they did to Elandir. They can afford it, right, Phelts? Though they'll say they can't.”

“
We'll see,” Phelts offered as evenly as he could. “I haven't had a chance to actually start looking into their economy yet.”

“
You're both fools,” Cram grumbled. “They'll resent us for it and then we'll never have peace. And Silverdale won't pay.”

“
They will when we've crushed their military. They have no navy, just transports that we'll sink in droves when they try to sneak on shore.”

“
I have a hard time believing they'll just wander in here like this.” Cram glanced out the window briefly. “It would make more sense to approach over land.”

“
It doesn't matter what you believe. I want these defenses up and running, and that's that.” Merodach grinned at the sour general. “Are you always this miserable, Cram? We're about to finish off an entire war in a matter of weeks. Even the Magi couldn't claim to accomplish as much!”

“
We both know that Liscentia never started this war.”

That caught Phelts off guard. He knew Merodach had been accused of fabricating Liscentia's attack on Elandir, but Cram's blunt certainty frightened him. He fought the rigidity that entered him with the fear.

“
The people don't need to know that.” There was an edge to Merodach's voice now. “It's too late in any case, and it was what needed to be done.”

The lead truck pulled off as they reached the cliffs. Each truck parked in a line with Merodach's car stopping at the very center.

“
Whatever you say, sir.”

“
You're damned right, whatever I say.” Merodach's bile was returning quickly. “Don't forget how close to the edge you're standing, Cram. You know too much, and you're disposable, a bad combination for longevity around here. Get out of the car.”

The three men stepped out of the car and stretched as soldiers jumped out of the backs of trucks. The engineers were already unloading crates filled with the necessary parts to put the inactive guns back in working order. Phelts looked from bunker to bunker, half expecting to see the black masks of Khrone's Hunters hiding in wait among the shadows. He was glad in that moment that Merodach believed the Hunters to be seeking him out in Elandir.

“
How long until your boys finish bringing the defenses up to speed?” Merodach leaned on his cane as he tried to stretch a little more.

“
They say with a full detachment of engineers they could get it all up to speed tonight.” Cram looked like a cornered dog to Phelts. The last thing he needed was for the soldier to do something stupid and ruin the entire plan.

“
Well, show us around then.” Merodach waved his cane and started walking for the bunkers. “I almost hope the bastards show up while we're here so I can watch you sink a few.”

The three men walked towards the nearest bunker as the soldiers worked to aid the engineers in carrying supplies. These were the only men that knew Merodach wasn't in Elandir still, and even though they had known since they left camp a couple of hours before, they still gave him surprised and uncomfortable glances whenever they saw him. Merodach was rarely seen outside of his tower, let alone the city, and he wasn't well-loved by the military after everything that had transpired. It almost lent a comedic sense to Merodach's assertion that he was here to boost morale as much as oversee the end of the war. But Phelts wasn't laughing.

The bunkers directly in front of them were roughly fifty feet wide, housing two large artillery guns each and separated by a gap of about one hundred feet. From here, should someone walk between them, they could actually continue on down to the ocean along the gentle slope that ran about half a mile. The bunkers really did blend well with their surroundings and would be invisible to an approaching navy.

They walked down the steps in the rear corner of the bunker where two engineers were busy putting a gun back together. The inside of the bunker was dark and mostly empty, save for some ammunition and the various components for the gun. The majority of it looked like it hadn't been touched in decades; many of the smaller pieces were being reassembled and lubricated on the floor beside the gun. The two men jumped to their feet as soon as they realized who was approaching them.

“
At ease,” Cram grumbled. “The Mayor simply wants to inspect the bunkers. We won't be a bother.”

The two men looked relieved until Merodach took a step forward and began studying their work on the ground, poking curiously with his cane. He looked at the gun for a while, then back at the parts, and eventually up at one of the engineers. “Will it work?”

“
Yes sir,” the man almost stuttered, he was so nervous. “It's almost ready, probably in another ten... maybe twenty minutes.”

“
I want to see it fire.” Merodach said nonchalantly.

The engineer's face went so pale Phelts was worried his brain might show through. “Of... of course, sir.”

“
Sir.” Cram reached for Merodach's shoulder. “Perhaps we should walk the line and come back when it's ready.”

“
Nonsense, Cram,” Merodach scoffed. “We have plenty of time. I'm not wandering back to that filthy camp any time soon. Once I've seen it fire, I'll feel much better, and we can take your walk to inspect the line.”

He turned and walked to the broad window through which the guns would spray their death upon their foes. “We can talk plenty well from here, in any case. The strategy seems simple enough. They send an advance boat to make sure it's safe, the rest follow when nothing happens, and we unload on them once the majority are well within range of our guns.” He turned back to Cram. “What's even left to discuss?”

“
Just that, sir.” Cram walked over to the window. “I can't believe they would be so stupid as to try and make land here.”

“
There's nowhere else to make land!”

“
They won't come by sea.” Cram shook his head.

“
I told you, I don't care what you think, Cram!” Merodach almost shouted, before he stared at Phelts. “Phelts! What's wrong with you? You're sweating like a fool.”

“
It's hot in here,” Phelts said as he wiped his brow. He hadn't even realized he had been sweating, and the added attention to it now made him swallow hard against his anxiety.

“
Take off your damned coat then,” Merodach shook his head. “Minister of Finance... stop sweating and start calculating how much money we need to suck out of Liscentia to pay for all of this.”

Phelts removed his jacket and wiped his brow again before moving to join them at the window. The harbor was massive to see from here. The cliffs angled out and away from them as they curved down the slope and straightened to shoot out from the coast for another mile and a half before curving north and south. Bunkers lined the entire crest at even distances.

“
So what if they don't just wander in?” Merodach said. “Where will they go? We aren't going to show our faces until it's too late for them, and the only other way to reach us will be by land as you've so repeatedly put it. Meddlands won't let them cross the river, so they've got a guaranteed fight facing them against the gamble that this will be open.”

“
This is suicide.” Cram shook his head again. “The only way to take this position would be with a complete disregard for the lives of your men and enough of them to flood it to overflowing. Unless they've got some massive artillery with them, or have grown completely callous for their soldiers, they won't risk it.”

“
Your predecessors thought differently, Cram.” Merodach's flat tone was set to end the discussion. “I think differently.”

Phelts hung his jacket over the edge of the window so that the majority wafted gently in the breeze outside. He grabbed a loose stone from the floor next to him and placed it on the jacket to hold it in place.
I've gotta get the hell out of here.

“
How many men would it take to overwhelm us here, Phelts?”

“
What?” Phelts looked up as the knot in his stomach twisted around his shortened breath.

“
How many men?” Merodach looked exasperated. “If these guns were fully operational, and we could chew through them at speed, how many would it take to overwhelm us?”

“
I–” Phelts swallowed hard.
I can't stay here.

“
He's not a soldier.” Cram shook his head. “And no general would send his men into this place willingly.”

“
It's a math question, Cram. Not an ethics quandary!”

Another engineer walked in with a bucket of grease and an old brush. “Thought you might need this for the hing-” He stopped short to salute. “Sorry sir– sirs! I didn't realize you were in here.”

“
At least some people know how to show respect around here,” Merodach grumbled. “Get on with it.”

The man put the bucket down and began to leave before Merodach raised his cane to stop him.

“
Do you have any different guns? Working guns?”

“
Sure, sir. I'm about to take my team to put some together just over on the north ridge there.”

“
Take Phelts with you. The coin monkey's starting to irritate me with all of his sweating and jittering.” He pointed his cane at Phelts. “Go count how many guns we have and how much this whole refit is costing me, Phelts. I want to know how many ships we can sink and how quickly. And don't come back until you've stopped acting like a moron.”

“
Guns?” But Phelts almost felt too relieved to move. “I... sure, show me what you've got.”

“
No problem, sir. Just follow me.” The young man tried in vain to mask his excitement at the upcoming projects. Big guns meant big fun, Phelts wagered. “The trenches and tunnels run between each bunker, makes it easy to get around.”

“
Great, I'll follow you.”

“
The morons I surround myself with...” Merodach glanced between Phelts and Cram before walking over to inspect the gun again.

Phelts didn't bother formulating a response, he wasn't even sure what Merodach would expect to hear. His mood was already back to its sour, brooding self.
A terrible mood to be your last.

The engineer Phelts followed almost ran through the tunnel that connected the bunkers, so great was his excitement to put the guns back together, and for the added speed Phelts was grateful. The boy started rambling over his shoulder about how they had devised a pattern to bring the defenses back online in a balanced fashion. If trouble showed up at any point in the project they would still have firepower located at all of the crucial points of the defense.

“
Did you want to stop and check out these unfinished ones?”

“
Just take me to the ones you're working on,” Phelts said against the lump in his throat.

“
No problem, sir. These things are magnificent weapons, even if they are outdated. They're way nicer than the originals they installed here.”

He rambled off the guns' rate of fire, angles of trajectory, range, and all kinds of numbers that Phelts would normally find intriguing. But Phelts was just glad to get as far away from Merodach's bunker as possible. With every step he took he expected the resounding concussion of an explosion to knock him on his face. As soon as they reached the bunkers on the slowly rising cliffs, the tunnels turned to trenches open to the sky. The engineer explained that the construction of the defenses had been kept to as minimalistic of an appearance as possible to lull the Demon into the trap.

There were no alternatives, so the Demon must have known trouble was waiting, but it was better to keep the nature of the trouble hidden until the last possible moment. Phelts had a hard time listening, his mind swirling with fears and questions. Why hadn't the charge gone off yet? Was Keaton even here? Had he managed to get here on time or was he delayed on the way down?

They arrived at their destination minutes after they had set out, but to Phelts it felt like it could have been an hour. Three young men in black coveralls were working on putting a spring into one of the long slender cannons as they walked in.