Steven Erikson - Memories of Ice

Antsy spoke up, 'How 'bout finding a cellar and hiding, Captain?'

Quick Ben glared at the sergeant, then looked around. 'Where's Hedge?'

The sapper pushed forward, waddling beneath bulging leather sacks.

'Did you see the damned sparrows?' the wizard asked him, making a strange half-shrugging motion with his left shoulder.

'Aye. We need sharpshooters atop the wall. I got twelve quarrels with sharpers instead of points. We do it right and we can take out that many-'

'Raining bird-meat,' Spindle cut in. 'Burning feathers.'

'Is that worse than burning hairshirt, Spin?'

'Quiet,' Paran snapped. 'All right, get hooks on the wall and line our brilliant crossbow experts to the top. Hedge, find the right place to set the cusser-bundle and crackers, and do it fast — we've got to time this right. I want those birds knocked from their perches, not in the air. Dujek's first wave is probably already on the way, so let's move.'

The captain waved Picker to point. They headed towards the keep wall.

Reaching the street's edge opposite, Picker raised a hand and crouched low. Everyone froze.

Paran moved up to just behind her. She leaned back. 'Urdomen guards,' she whispered. 'The gate's twenty paces to the left, well lit-'

'The guards are well lit?'

'Aye.'

'Idiots!'

'Aye, but I'm wondering …'

'What?'

'We switch back and head right, come up again, we'll be at a corner of the wall. Hedge likes corners…'

'So we leave the guards where they are.'

'Aye, Captain. Hood knows, in that light, they won't see a damned thing. And we'll be far enough away for the sound the hooks make if they make any not to reach 'em.'

'You hope.'

'They're all wearing great-helms, sir.'

'All right, take us round, Lieutenant.'

'A moment, sir. Blend?'

'Here.'

'Stay here. Keep an eye on those guards.'

'Aye, sir.'

Picker nodded to Paran and headed back down the street. The squads wheeled and followed.

It seemed to the captain as he padded along that he was the only one making a sound — and far too much sound at that. The thirty-odd soldiers around him were ghostly silent. They moved from shadow to shadow without pause.

A sixth of a bell later, Picker once more approached the street facing the compound wall. Directly ahead was a squared corner tower, surmounted by a massive battlement. The squads closed in behind the lieutenant.

Paran heard the sappers whispering with glee upon seeing the tower.

'Won't that come down pretty-'

'Like a potato on a spindly stick-'

'Brace the crackers, right? Drive the forces in at an angle to meet an arm's reach inside the cornerstone-'

'You tellin' Granda where's the pretty hole, Runter? Shut up and leave it to me and Spin, right?'

'I was just sayin', Hedge-'

Paran cut in, 'Enough, all of you. Crossbows up top before any of you do anything else.'

'Aye, sir,' Hedge agreed. 'Ready the hooks, dearies. You with the crossbows, line up and get your sharper-quarrels — hey, no cutting in, show some manners, woman!'

Paran drew Quick Ben to one side a few paces behind the others. 'Twelve explosive quarrels, Wizard,' he muttered under his breath. 'There's at least thirty condors.'

'You don't think Dujek's attack inside the city walls will draw 'em away?'

'Sure, long enough for them to annihilate that first wave, leave a few of their own circling to greet the second wave, while the rest come back to take care of us.'

'You've something in mind, Captain?'

'A second diversion, one to pull the rest of the condors away from both Dujek and the Bridgeburners. Quick, can you take us through a warren to that roof?'

'Us, sir?'

'You and I, yes. And Antsy, Spindle, Detoran, Mallet and Trotts.'

'I can do that, Captain, but I'm just about used up-'

'Just get us there, Wizard. Where's Spin?' Paran looked back at the others, nodded when he found the man. 'Wait here.' The captain hurried to where Spindle crouched with the other sappers, reached out and dragged him from the huddle. 'Hedge, you'll have to do without this man.'

Hedge grinned. 'What a relief, Captain.'

'Hey!'

'Quiet, Spindle.' Paran pulled him to where Quick Ben waited.

'What have you got in mind?' the wizard asked as soon as they arrived.

'In a moment. Quick, those condors — what precisely are they?'

'Not sure, sir.'

'Not what I want to hear, Wizard. Try again.'

'All right, I think they once were real condors — smaller, normal sized, that is. Then the Seer somehow figured out a way of stuffing the birds-'

'Stuffing the birds, ha!' Spindle snickered.

Quick Ben reached out and cuffed the man. 'Don't interrupt again, Spin. Demons, Captain. Possession. Chaos-aspected, which is why their bodies can't quite hold it all.'

'So, demon and bird both.'

'One the master over the other, of course.'

'Of course. Now, which one does the flying?'

'Well, the condor…' Quick Ben's eyes narrowed. He glanced at Spindle, then grinned. 'Well, hey, maybe …'

'What are you two going on about?'

'You hoarding any munitions, Spindle?' Paran asked.

'Six sharpers.'

'Good, in case this goes wrong.'

They turned at a hissed command from Picker to see a half-dozen soldiers sprinting across the street to pull up at the base of the compound wall. Hooks and ropes were readied.

'Damn, I didn't realize how high that wall was — how are they-'

'Look again, sir,' Quick Ben said. 'Toes is with them.'

'So?'

'Watch, sir.'

The squad mage had opened his warren. Paran tried to recall the man's speciality, was answered by the smoky appearance of a dozen ghosts who drifted close around Toes. Paran softly grunted, 'If those are the ones who keep falling over …'

'No, these are local spirits, Captain. People fall from walls all the time, and since this one is more than a few hundred years old, well, the numbers pile up. Anyway, most ghosts are somewhat … single-minded. The last they remember, they were on the wall, patrolling, standing guard, whatever. So, they want to get back up there …'

Paran watched the spirits, six of them now somehow carrying hooks, slither up the wall. The other six had closed ghostly, hands on Toes and were lifting him to follow. The squad mage did not look happy, legs flailing.

'I thought the warrens were poisoned.'

Quick Ben shrugged. 'Hood's hit back hard, Captain. He's cleared a space …'

Paran frowned, but said nothing.

Reaching the top of the wall, Toes took charge once more, retrieving and placing each hook since it was clear that the spirits were either incapable of such precision with physical objects, or disinclined. The mage had to struggle with a couple of them to get the roped hooks from their hands. Eventually, he had all the hooks positioned. Ropes uncoiled, snaked down to the soldiers waiting below.

The first six crossbow-equipped soldiers began climbing.

Paran cast an anxious glance up at the row of condors surmounting the main building. None stirred. 'Thank Hood they sleep deep.'

'Aye, building power for what's to come. Far into their chaotic warren.'

Paran turned round and studied the dark sky to the northwest. Nothing. Then again, it wasn't likely that he'd be able to see them in any case. They'd be coming in low, just as his flight had done.

The second six soldiers with crossbows strapped to their backs crossed the street and set hands to ropes.

'Wizard, ready that warren …'

'It's ready, Captain.'

Picker was suddenly waving madly in Paran's direction. Hissing a curse, the captain rushed to join her. The remaining squads had pulled far back from the street.

'Captain! Lean out, sir, and check down at the gate.'

Paran did so.