Adrian Tchaikovsky - The Scarab Path

The Mole Cricket hunched close. 'Two dozen, three, somewhere around that number.'

'We were lucky,' Totho decided. Amnon just raised an eyebrow, thinking no doubt of all the archers who had burned or been blown apart by just a few hurled missiles. Totho shook his head. 'Believe me, we could have lost it all, right then, except the men who came over were Slave Corps. The Empire's Engineering Corps has trained grenadier squads and they'd have made more of a mess than we could hope to clean up. The Scorpion commander's making use of what they've got, but it's makeshift. Most of what they threw at us went wide, even into the river.'

'They'll come again,' Amnon said. 'It won't take many of them.'

'Leave them to the archers,' Totho told him. 'They're ready now, and I get the impression they take it personally.' The archers had not lost many to the Scorpion main force, only receiving a few casualties from crossbow bolts. It had taken the grenades to seriously bloody them, and Totho knew that when the Wasps came back, they would fly into a sky filled with arrows.

Amnon sighed. He looked impossibly tired. 'It was only your ship's weapons that drew them off.'

'True. And yes, we can't rely on that. The Iteration won't manage such a good round of broadsides again. They'll distribute their 'shotters either side of the bridge, force her to keep moving.'

'The next charge, do you think?' Amnon's eyes held his gaze.

I should say something reassuring at this point, but I cannot lie to him . 'The next charge,' Totho agreed. 'It seems likely. After that we abandon the defence to Praeda Rakespear's theory, and I hope it's sound.' He looked back to the east shore where construction still went on.

Dariset approached them. 'There's a stir amongst the Scorpions,' she said. 'They're getting ready, we think.'

Amnon nodded to her and pulled his helm back on, his fingers lacing the buckle without the need for thought. If only Drephos could see how we field-test this armour , Totho thought bleakly. I should put a report in a bottle and drop it off the bridge: Armour performance sufficiently above tolerance to outlast that of the flesh .

'They're moving!' Tirado cried out. 'Shield-carapace to the front again.' The Fly was crouching atop the wooden battlements, resting there until he absolutely had to take flight again. Totho hopped up to join the archers, but the curve of the bridge hid the initial Scorpion movements. Everyone knew the distances by now. The archers were nocking arrows; they would loose them before the first enemy appeared over the crest of the arch. The Scorpions themselves would take their time in their early advance, and would start breaking into a charge as the first arrows landed on them. The carpenters, their work less than half done, dropped down to the bridge again and fled back to the east bank.

How many have we killed? Totho wondered. The Khanaphir cleared the bodies away each time, otherwise there would surely be a ramp of the dead to overcome the barricade. There was still a mighty host arrayed on the western shore, undaunted and more thirsty than ever for blood. Were they hungry yet? How were the sands of time falling on the other side of the river? How long would they have to hold off the Many of Nem before their war-host began to disintegrate?

I think it is now clear that it will be longer than we have the capability to withstand them .

The Scorpions came into sight amid a hail of arrows. The first four ranks held stolen shields fore and above, shrugging off the worst of the storm until the painted wood bristled. There would be crossbowmen concealed inside that carapace to either side, and in the centre a core of furious armoured warriors with two-handed swords and great-axes, the hammer that would leap up to strike the Khanaphir guard.

It was as well learned as parade-ground drilling now, by both sides. The shields were raised, the crossbows jutted, the vanguard of the Scorpion host leapt up the buckled stones towards their foes, impaling themselves on spears, splitting shields, trying to break the Royal Guard by sheer strength. The archers loosed and loosed, riddling either side of the charge with arrows, trying for the pale gaps between the dark armour. Crossbows raked them, plunging into the wooden barricades, flying overhead, hurling the unlucky backwards with the impact of their short heavy bolts. Totho trusted to his mail and shot into the fray, knowing that no shield or armour would save his enemies from him.

Amnon was crying again for them to hold firm. Totho saw him in his place at the fore, lending the others his strength. Meyr fought, looming over him, a Nemian halberd held in one hand like a wood-axe. Abruptly there were a lot of Scorpions up on the stones, hammering at the Khanaphir. They were dying, the attackers. They were pierced through with spears, hacked with swords, but they had a courage, an insane and reckless courage, that Totho could not understand. They were dying, but were replaced as quickly, and now the ragged defenders were giving ground. Amnon's voice boomed high above the fray, exhorting them in the name of their city to stand, but it was not their will but their sheer strength that was giving way.

'Fliers!' came Tirado's own shout. 'Wasp airborne!'

The archers, save for those closest the breach, immediately turned towards the sky. There was a scattering of Wasp-kinden coming in fast over the heads of the Scorpions and the defenders' arrows began to reach out for them. They dodged and darted about in the air, two of them dropping as the shafts found them. Totho turned his attention to the breach again.

Meyr was fighting unarmed in the front line now, simply grabbing Scorpions and hurling them off the bridge, or slapping them back into their fellows with bone-crushing force. Their swords and axes rang off his armour, lacing it with scratches and dents. He barely seemed to notice them. Totho saw a halberd slam down on the giant's wrist and just leap back from the double-linked chainmail that covered it. Stone me, but we built well when we built that .

There was a wash of heat from a fire grenade, but it had landed amidst the Scorpion flank after its bearer was shot down. The other impromptu grenadiers were veering away, the arrows coming at them too thickly to dodge. Another spun head over heels down into the water.

'They're circling left!' Tirado shrieked, his voice increasingly hoarse. 'Coming in over the water-' A moment later he screamed, 'I'm shot!' Totho searched the sky for him frantically, but the Fly had already been thrown from it, transfixed by a crossbow bolt, a tiny figure writhing amongst the Khanaphir wounded.

'Hold fast!' Amnon cried out, in a voice fit to be heard by the spectators at either end of the bridge. Totho heard the boom of the leadshotters from the shore and knew that the Iteration was coming in to try and relieve them. A moment later began the rapid rattling of its smallshotters. The Khanaphir were still holding the breach but there were none of the Royal Guard left in reserve; every man and woman was now committed to the fray. Totho saw Ptasmon and Dariset fighting to Amnon's left. Dariset's face was awash with blood from a gash to her brow, her helm knocked clean from her head. Ptasmon's shield was shattered and he laid about himself with both spear and sword. Totho emptied his snapbow into the attackers and reached for the next magazine, slotting it fumblingly into place. With frantic speed he charged his piece, already knowing he would be too late.

A Scorpion lance rammed into Ptasmon, piercing his scaled hauberk. Totho saw his mouth gape wide, and then Ptasmon had thrown himself forward into the enemy, hacking blindly at them, bringing half a dozen down in a tangle of limbs. Dariset was screaming something Totho could not hear.