David Drake - Master of the Cauldron

The attack was over. Garric gulped air, tired and nauseous. The creatures' blood was red like that of humans, but its sulfurous undertone made the stench of this slaughter even worse than that of a normal battlefield. The long rows of monsters smelled like mules dead three days in the hot sun.

Another soldier was down and a second was swaying. He'd have fallen if he hadn't thrust his sword into the ground like a cane.

The fresh troops arrived. Three captains, none of them men Garric recognized, pushed to the front. "Your highness-" they shouted, more or less in chorus.

"Around the palace to the left," Garric said, aware as he spoke of how weak his voice was. He could only hope they understood him over the noise of fighting in the near distance and the sounds wounded men made. "Report to Lord Rosen and go where he puts you."

The Shepherd knew the line here in front had been thin to begin with and was half that strength now. If the creatures' attempts to break through were equal on all sides as they seemed to be, the cordon must be weaker still in the rear. The front of the palace was closest to the harbor, so reinforcements arrived here first.

For as long as there were reinforcements available. Perhaps that would be long enough.

"Your highness!" Liane said loudly. "Earl Wildulf's returning at the head of his army!"

She pointed to the left, reaching past Garric's face to make sure he noticed. Horsemen in four and five ranks abreast, as many as the pavement and the riders' skill would allow, were riding up the street from the west gate. That was where the Sandrakkan feudal levies had camped. Wildulf and several courtiers were in the lead.

"Bloody Hell!" Lord Attaper muttered. "Your highness, you shouldn't be here. Look, head back for the docks and stay there till-"

"Enough, milord!" Garric snapped. "This is exactly where I belong."

The sound of weapons and screaming rose into a dull crescendo from the east or northeast of the rambling building. A fire had broken out in that direction: smoke rose in swelling, rapid puffs. Garric couldn't tell whether the flames came from the palace or if the latest assault by the monsters of the pit had broken the cordon and the city proper was beginning to burn.

Lord Renold rode around the southeast corner. He'd lost his helmet and there were collops cut from the rim of his slung shield. "Your highness!" he shouted. "We need support! You've ignored my couriers so I've come myself! The hellspawn's going to break through if you don't send reinforcements!"

"Renold, I'll send you the next troops that arrive from the docks!" Garric said. "I haven't sent you any sooner because I don't have any to send."

He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see another battalion clashing its way up the brick street. There weren't any soldiers in sight, but plumes of smoke showed there were fires that way too. Was it accident, or had the creatures managed to circumvent the cordon through tunnels that reached beyond the palace?

Earl Wildulf and his cavalry arrived in a clash and rattle of horseshoes on brick pavers. Garric couldn't speak through the noise; he could barely think over it.

The Earl himself and Lord Renold's professional cavalry were experienced in riding on pavement, but most of these horsemen were rural nobles with their retainers. As the squadron drew up, several horses slipped and hurled their armored riders to the bricks, adding to the cacophony. Wildulf bellowed a curse over his shoulder, then bent to glare at Garric.

"Your lordship!" Garric said, getting the first word in. "You're just in time to hold these monsters back before the rest of my troops from Volita arrive. If you'll take your force to where Lord Renold directs you, we can prevent a breakout. The ground under the palace is a nest of them for the Shepherd knows how far down!"

"Right, there's no time to lose!" said Renold. He tried to pull his horse around; it obeyed the reins sluggishly. "It may be too late already!"

"Hold them back be damned!" Wildulf said. "You, boy -where's my wife? Where is she?"

"Your lordship…," said Garric. He'd regained his voice but he was too tired to react, even mentally, to the Earl's discourtesy. "I'm sorry but the creatures her wizard called up-"

Dipsas certainlyhadn't called up the monsters and their ancient creator, but this wasn't the time to split hairs.

"-killed the Countess in the tunnels before we could rescue her. The patrol I sent down Again shading the truth, but Wildulf hadn't been rational about his wife even before the present cataclysm. Garric wasn't about to admit that he'd watched Balila die.

"-was barely able to get up alive to bring a warning."

"Wildulf, by the Lady, don't dally!" Marshal Renold said. He was the Earl's retainer but a noble in his own right, and he had a very good grasp of how desperate the situation was. "They were coming out of the servants' quarters when I left!"

"Cowards!" Wildulf shouted. "You're all cowards!"

He drew his sword. Attaper tried to step between Garric and the horsemen; Garric shouldered him back. The greater danger was that Wildulf would cut at Lord Renold-and the greatest danger of all would be for Garric to be seen to back down before a raving lunatic.

A fresh wave of white monsters spilled from the palace entrance like corpse-fat bubbling from a cook pot. They mouthed syllables even more inhuman than they themselves were.

Earl Wildulf wheeled his horse toward them. "Sandrakkan with me!" he shouted. "The Countess is in danger!"

He and first the leaders, then the whole of his troop, crashed into the pallid swarm. This was a major outbreak, hundreds at least of the creatures, but the weight of the horses and armored riders rode them down with relative ease. For a moment the battle continued at the gate and gutted windows to either side; then Wildulf dismounted and with his men hacked their way into the palace itself. His voice drifted back, calling, "Sandrakkan with me! For the Countess!"

Marshal Renold watched the troops pouring into the building with a look of amazement and horror. He hadn't seen Balila being clubbed to death, but he knew that the tunnels under the palace were a certain trap for anyone fool enough to enter them.

"Attaper, give the Marshal ten men," Garric said tiredly. He wanted to vomit at what was about to happen, but Prince Garric had the survival of every human in the kingdom to ensure right now. The Earl and his followers were throwing themselves away, but Garric could give their deathssome purpose. "Those poor devils will take the pressure off here for a time. Renold, hold till I can get you reinforcements. There's some coming now."

Wildulf had left the Sandrakkan infantry behind when he hurried to the palace with the horsemen. Best send a courier to make sure they were actually on their way…

The last of the Sandrakkan troop had entered the building. They hadn't left horseholders; their mounts milled and stamped in the forecourt, excited and frightened by the stench of blood and eviscerated monsters.

The ground quivered. "Bloody Hell, what's this-" Attaper said.

The palace and nearby structures shook like a dog come in out of the wet. Garric and everybody in sight lost their footing. A long crack ripped down the middle of the street, lifting bricks to either side; then the three-story buildings to the east of the palace crashed down in spurts of pale dust which hung against the black sky like giant puffballs.

The palace shivered inward a moment before the ground beneath it collapsed, swallowing the site whole. The ruin shuddered and fell a second stage, taking with it the surrounding plaza the way an undercut riverbank slips into the current.

"Get back!" Garric shouted, scrambling on all fours until he could get to his feet again. He'd lost his shield but still gripped his sword. "Back! on your lives!"