Luke Scull - The Grim Company

You can’t fail.

‘Lord Salazar is unharmed, Commandant.’

Barandas breathed a sigh of relief. The magical assault on the Obelisk had been completely unexpected. He had feared the worst when he saw the explosion.

Kalen adjusted his ponytail and stroked his bow thoughtfully. The young Augmentor carried no quiver on his back. The weapon he held in his hands provided its own ammunition. ‘I saw the Halfmage on the way to the Obelisk.’

The Supreme Augmentor grimaced in annoyance. The accursed wizard should have been on the western wall helping defend the city! ‘Did he care to explain why he abandoned his station?’

Kalen shrugged. ‘He said only that our lord required his presence. I feel sorry for the poor sod he had pushing him.’

Barandas sighed. He didn’t trust the Halfmage as far as he could throw him, but there was nothing to be done about it now. If the sarcastic bastard didn’t have a good reason for showing up at the Obelisk, Thurbal would send him packing soon enough. He had bigger concerns.

Captain Bracka’s last report indicated the mercenaries were getting the better of the Watch at the western gate. Barandas had wanted to send more militia out to bolster the defenders, but the company approaching from the east would soon lay siege to that side of the city and he wanted men held in reserve. The situation as it stood could be better — but they need only hold the walls a few hours longer.

The nightmarish visage of Garmond loomed into view, a black silhouette against the afternoon sun. His plate armour clanked as he paced back and forth, squeezing his gauntleted fists together as if every moment spent away from the fighting was mental torture. ‘When do I get to kill something?’ he rumbled from behind his demonic helm. Three of his colleagues nodded in agreement.

Barandas had gathered almost all his elite enforcers to him, a dozen Augmentors in total. They made for a motley assembly, but there was no deadlier force in the Trine. Each man was worth ten normal soldiers. Some, such as the restless giant regarding him with his vambraced arms crossed, no less than twenty.

‘Patience, Garmond,’ Barandas replied. ‘Were it not for recent events and the terrible losses we have suffered, I would not hesitate to send you against the enemy. But we are no longer forty. We are no longer even half that. I must use you wisely.’

Legwynd. Rorshan. Both gone. Falcus, too, more than likely. Whatever happened at the Swell?

The expedition to the Lord of the Deep’s resting place was supposed to have provided raw crystallized magic with which to forge new Augmentors. Instead they had received nothing but silence. Falcus could have returned to Dorminia in less than a day, in the event of an emergency. That he had not done so could only mean the expedition had ended in disaster.

He shook his head. They had known the voyage would be perilous. He thought of Admiral Kramer’s poor family, the relief they must have felt at seeing his death sentence rescinded only to lose him again to the vagaries of the Swell. The world is fond of such terrible ironies .

Someone was approaching from across the street. It was Captain Loric, judging by the hitch in his step. ‘What news from the east gate?’ he demanded.

‘They will be within range of the city in a bell,’ replied the captain.

‘How many men do we have on the wall?’

Loric wiped sweat from his brow. He possessed a distinct band of white at the front of his otherwise dark hair. Unsurprisingly, that physical quirk combined with his penchant for harassing the men under him had resulted in his nickname of the Badger. ‘Fifteen hundred militia. Two hundred Watchmen.’

Barandas thought for a moment. ‘Keep the militia on the battlements. Launch a sortie to disrupt the siege weapons if necessary. We must hold them off for long enough.’

The captain opposite him blinked in confusion. ‘Hold them off long enough for what, Commandant?’

‘Let me worry about that, Captain. See to your orders.’

‘Aye.’ Loric saluted. He hesitated for a moment. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Lieutenant Toram?’

Barandas shook his head. He remembered the moustached officer from his brief visit to Malbrec. Not a good day.

‘No matter,’ Loric replied. ‘By your leave, sir.’ He saluted again and limped back across the square, heading eastwards.

Barandas watched him go. Faces peeked at him from behind drapes and then melted away again. The streets were empty except for soldiers and the odd militiaman scurrying about. Houses stood silent, shops closed, taverns barred shut. All those not actively involved in the defence of the city — women, the young, the old, the infirm — were taking refuge behind closed doors.

He thought of Lena back at their estate in the Noble Quarter. She would be waiting for him, sick with worry — and perhaps other things. I’m going to be a father . He had not seen his wife since yesterday morning and the guilt gnawed at him. I have a duty , he reminded himself. To the city. To the people. To my lord .

He reached into the small bag at this belt and withdrew the silk handkerchief Lena had given him to celebrate their fourth year of marriage. It smelled of jasmine and her favourite perfume, and he smiled when he brought it close to his face.

‘Sir,’ Kalen called. It sounded like a warning. Barandas looked up and saw Captain Bracka leaning on another soldier as he struggled to make his way towards them. One side of the officer’s face was covered in blood, which ran down his cheek to merge with the red of his beard, and he cradled his right arm in his left. Barandas could see bone protruding from the broken limb.

‘Captain, what has happened?’ he demanded.

Bracka’s eyes were haunted. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. ‘Monsters,’ he said dully. ‘Monsters clothed as women. They scaled the wall, killed three dozen men before we could react…’ His voice trailed off.

‘They came from nowhere,’ the young Watchman supporting Bracka interjected. His voice shook. ‘We received no warning.’

Barandas grimaced. The mindhawks had detected no sign of the pale women. Lord Salazar had warned him that the White Lady’s servants possessed strange abilities — he had witnessed their potency at first hand — but immunity to thought-mining was something even the Magelord had not foreseen.

‘There’s more, sir. The third company is on the move. The walls will be breached within the hour.’

Within the hour . That was too soon. He had to protect the city — at all costs. He turned to his Augmentors. ‘Men, draw your weapons. We go to Dorminia’s defence.’

The brightness of the day suddenly intensified as glowing implements of death sprang from their sheaths. Garmond slammed one gauntleted fist into another with a force like that of two bulls butting heads. ‘At fucking last,’ he snarled.

Barandas placed Lena’s handkerchief carefully back into the bag at his belt and drew his own sword. It whispered softly as it brushed against the scabbard, like a dying man’s sigh. There was no ostentation about the cold steel. No magical luminescence. The only magic he possessed was within the mechanical instrument pumping blood around his body. Lord Salazar had told him that he required nothing more.

With a final glance across the square in the direction of the Noble Quarter, he beckoned to his men and set off towards the western wall.

When they arrived, it was to behold a scene of carnage. Bodies lay strewn all over the cobbles, twisted and broken like discarded dolls. Fighting raged ahead of them as the city’s remaining defenders attempted to hold the sundered gates against the flood of dark-skinned warriors trying to force their way through.