Steph Swainston - Dangerous Offspring

Their barrage was so thick they were catching Insects in a broad strip in front of the host. Insects writhed and fell. The closest rushed powerfully up against the first pikes. Some were killed outright, others slowed down until the pike points buckled into and cracked their hard carapaces.

Hurricane let the arrow barrage come down some fifty metres ahead of the pikemen-he kept the distance with incredible skill.

The pace was so slow it was a quarter of an hour before the wave of movement reached the last ranks of the Imperial Fyrd. It was mid-morning already but we were only ten minutes behind schedule. It is absolutely impossible to keep men walking abreast in perfect rows, and they were stumbling and dragging in the mud. Every formation was warping slightly; growing thinner and longer. The archers’ line bent forwards at the ends as the men there walked faster, spreading onto open ground where the infantry hadn’t churned it up.

I stretched out in the air, way in front of the pikemen, with the storm of arrows coming down behind me. I was watching Insects charge in up the slope from the lake shore, where they were ranging all over the mud in great numbers, but nowhere so densely packed as to be a serious threat to the infantry.

I turned and flapped upwind in an ungainly fashion, resting now and then because the gusts were strong enough for me to lean against. All the spearmen could see me poised stationary like the figurehead of a ship.

Back towards the town I saw the dual lines of Thunder’s immobile trebuchets drawn up in front of the walls. The machines weren’t operating but were still manned, just in case-they seemed no bigger than my thumbnail and the crews no more than black dots.

Better go see if anyone needs me, I thought. I swept out wide and came in under the tunnel of arrows pouring up from Lightning’s ranks. I flew down the tunnel and out of the end. Then I gained height so as not to frighten the horses, and cruised over the Imperial Fyrd, looking down on their sun banners. It was easy to see the Emperor’s billowing white cloak against his horse’s back.

I was worried that San was on the field. His presence was foremost in everyone’s minds. We couldn’t risk him getting hurt-if he was, none of us knew what would happen to the Circle. At least he’s well protected in the rearguard.

Back on the other side of the arrow storm, Insects rushed towards the spearmen. The spears thrust out or down. Little dents formed in the first line where shield and spearmen had to stop and make sure an Insect was dispatched before walking round or clambering over it. Eleonora’s and Hayl’s lancers trotted forward to guard the archers’ flanks.

The fyrds walked steadily for three hours, cutting a wide swathe through the Insects, with some attrition of the spearmen and heavy infantry, and horses as the cavalry fended off Insects coming round to our rear. The host trailed bodies like rag dolls, curled up and sinking in the shallow liquid mud.

We had reached the gradient leading down to the lake-the slope helped the men walking but was too faint to speed up the lines. Hordes of Insects were racing from the shore, skittering over the road and pouring towards us. The curling breeze carried the stench of the lake.

I was turning, intending to tell Lourie how many Insects were approaching, when an almighty shouting broke out from the spearmen. The front of the phalanx nearer the lake ground to a halt, but the rest kept going a few steps downhill, staring left at their fellows, wondering what was happening. They pulled the whole of the phalanx front out in a long concave curve.

The first pikes started rattling side-to-side and jabbing at the ground. The men in the second line were also trying futilely to bring their weapons to bear, stabbing the mud. A shout went up to call Sirocco’s men into action. They started casting their javelins. Already? I thought. What’s going on?

I pulled my wings in close and dropped steeply downwind, air screaming past me. I hit my top speed in seconds, blinked and tears forced out of the corners of my eyes. I swept my wings forward and up, either side of my face, and braked hard. I had to keep above the arrows. I circled, lying in the air, my wings beating quickly, and looked down through their storm.

The men in the first few lines were dropping their pikes. Throwing them down. Their long shafts lay all over and already men were tripping on them. Some had drawn swords and appeared to be digging them into the ground.

The men on the edges of the phalanx flung down their weapons and turned to run. The ones nearer the centre began to follow suit. Unable to force back through the tight ranks behind, they had to run the whole length of the line to get round the flanks. Some fell as they fled and didn’t get up again. Bodies struggled and contorted in the mud but I couldn’t see that they were fighting anything.

Men in the centre of the first ranks turned around completely and tried to beat their way back into the middle of the phalanx. They came face to face with men behind them who also turned to run but could go nowhere. Time seemed to slow down and I felt a rising nausea. Shit. They’re going to rout. The fastest way to die in battle is to break formation in front of Insects.

‘Lourie!’ I shouted. I couldn’t dive lower-I couldn’t land. The air beneath me was thick with missiles. The wind took my words. I screamed at the top of my voice: ‘Hold the line!’

I saw helmets moving into the centre of the phalanx then falling under the crush. The square’s middle was thickening and the edges flaking off, men running back. Lourie and a body of soldiers around him were left isolated on the road out in front. He was bent double, shouting, but no volume could make his troops take the slightest bit of notice.

The javelin-throwers following had now also stopped, their front rank mingling with the last line of the phalanx. They couldn’t see forward and were even jumping up to try to see over the pikemen’s heads and find out what was happening. Fleeing pikemen began running into their ranks at the sides, pushing them towards the middle, making the crush worse. Sirocco blew his horn, then every Eszai with the infantry began to sound theirs. I glimpsed Tornado looking up to me and frantically waving, mouth moving in a silent bellow. Then I was past, over the vast formation grinding to a halt. Men crunched up together as they walked into each other; the flanks rode on by a few metres as the centre collapsed into itself. The reserve block realised that the men walking ahead had stopped and came to a halt themselves.

Lacking further instructions for the cause of the delay the archers, piecemeal, suspended their barrage. As the last arrows hissed to the ground the screams of the ever-worsening crush below seared up clearer than before.

Finally I could descend-and suddenly all the ground ahead of the pikemen seemed to be in motion. Tussocks and rocks poking through the thin layer of muddy water over the waterlogged soil were advancing of their own accord.

I had no idea what they were. Lower still, I could see shapes, seething in the mud, half-crawling, half-swimming. I judged the scale against the men-they were about half a metre long and mottled brown, very hard to see. They were moving close to the surface of the soil, like little Insects. I saw one lifted up on a man’s spear, writhing. It had a longer, narrower abdomen than an Insect. I saw its legs opening and closing as they waved in the air. Its thorax and triangular head were flattened, but they had the same high-gloss goggle eyes.

I looked towards the lake and saw them emerging from the water, climbing up on the lake shore. They were scurrying, slower than Insects, but faster than a man could run. I couldn’t see the ground between them on the shore; there was no end to them. They weren’t Insects. I hadn’t seen them before-they were monsters!