Tom Lloyd - The ragged man
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- Название:The ragged man
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Do I kill her now, while I have the chance?
'You could kill me,' she said, correctly guessing his thoughts, 'but that would deny you an ally for the future – one who could be of use to a collector.'
With a gesture she dismissed the flames crackling all around them and the true Bloodsworn rushed forward, stopping dead as Styrax raised a hand. He thought for a moment, panting to get his breath back after the furious exchange, barely able to string a coherent thought together.
'Go then,' he said eventually, 'go with my blessing and remember this debt.'
'My debt to you? How very male,' Zhia gasped, her arm drawn tight up to her chest. 'I suppose that's all the thanks I'll get for persuading Koezh our chances would be better without the Legion of the Damned.'
She looked down at the corpse of her brother, lying at Styrax's feet. A faint mist was building over it as his body started to decay and disintegrate.
'As you wish,' she said finally. 'Until we meet again.'
She turned and faced the wall of soldiers. They didn't move, and she looked back at Styrax, who gestured, parting the Bloodsworn for her. Once a path was clear, the vampire left without looking back once.
Styrax looked down at the putrefying armoured corpse at his feet. Koezh's Crystal Skull was still attached to the cuirass, and he quickly tugged it free. The armour was already soft and malleable, decaying with Koezh's body; the metal would melt into nothingness unless it was removed with alacrity, as Styrax had the first time they fought. If not, it would slowly reform with Koezh's body in the crypt beneath the Castle of Silence, far to the east. Koezh's sword was similarly indistinct within the mist, and as he watched, it sank into the moorland beneath it, unclaimed yet again.
He looked up at the assembled troops surrounding him. With an effort he smiled. 'First blood to us,' he announced hoarsely. The responding cheer was deafening.
'Enemy's advancing,' Veil said, pointing.
King Emin looked up. 'So it begins,' he muttered. 'How about the left flank?'
Veil squinted at where the smaller Menin force had formed up, by the tree-line. 'Looks like it – I'd need a mage to be sure.'
'Where are the damn mages?' Emin growled, seeing nothing but soldiers. The fort contained more than a thousand men, as closely packed in as could be managed without causing complete chaos.
'There's the runt,' Coran said, indicating the diminutive form of Tomal Endine, who was weaving a path towards them, through the Kingsguard and the catapult platforms that stood between the central tower and Emin's position on the rampart.
The mage laboured up the wooden ramp towards King Emin, and Coran reached down to drag the small man the last yard while he gasped for breath. The King's bodyguard stood out from the crowd by more than size now – his cuirass and helm were painted a bright bloody red, in contrast to the green and gold livery that surrounded him. The rest of the Brotherhood wore black-painted armour, punctuating the crowd of resplendent Kingsguard like needles secreted in a haystack.
'Piss and daemons,' Doranei said, 'man's exhausted and the battle's not started yet!'
Endine gave Doranei an unfriendly look and sparks crackled momentarily across his knuckles.
'Your Majesty, Mage Holtai reports both sections of the enemy are advancing. Two lines of heavy infantry are moving directly here, with archers and cavalry protecting them, while a mixed force of infantry and cavalry are stationed on their left flank. The smaller force is keeping tight to the forest and they too are protected on their left flank by cavalry.'
King Emin nodded and turned to face his army, the bulk of which was lined up behind the long ditches. They stood in long lines that would be vulnerable on the open field, but these great defensive works would massively reduce the force of any infantry charge.
'There is more, your Majesty,' Endine said urgently, 'I sensed magic used in the enemy camp – not a spell in progress, but energies shaped quickly, with violence meant.'
'Which means?'
'That I don't know, but most likely Lord Styrax fought someone of great power – perhaps he even gave Larat's Chosen a Crystal Skull to use in battle and had it turned against him.'
King Emin frowned. 'I doubt that; he will assume he has the advantage there without help from doubtful sources.'
'I can see no other explanation – the magic expended was considerable – '
'And without a Crystal Skull,' Emin finished for him, 'what fool would bother?' He forced a smile. 'It'll do us no good speculating. If the enemy is divided, they'll be less enthusiastic about throwing themselves on our stake-points!' The king gestured towards the long lines of raised stakes surrounding the fort and provoked a cheer from those nearby.
'Endine, return to your post,' King Emin said once the noise had abated, 'when I need Cetarn signalled I'll send a runner. In the meantime, keep us safe!'
The sickly mage bowed and scuttled back to the tower in the centre of the fort where the scryer, Mage Holtai, sat watching the enemy's movements, and three battle-mages waited for the coming assault.
'Will Cetarn be enough?' Doranei asked quietly. 'He's no white-eye, no matter what they've cooked up on that chained mound.'
'Cetarn will play his part,' Emin replied distantly, 'as must we all.'
'Is that why you're here, your Majesty?'
Emin gave him a sharp look. 'Your meaning?'
Doranei edged forward, keeping his voice as low as possible and ignoring the fact that Coran also stepped closer, just in case. 'The fort is vulnerable; you must see that.'
'Must I?'
'Yes,' Doranei said firmly, 'the ditches aren't long enough to be certain we won't be cut off, yet here's where you make your stand. Wouldn't it be better if you moved further back, where the whole army can see your standard and take heart?'
King Emin gave him a more genuine smile than he had Endine. 'No, my friend, it is best I'm here, on that you must trust me – as I trust you and Coran to keep me safe.'
'Are you intentionally putting yourself in a dangerous position?' Doranei asked quietly.
'Remember this – we are all in mortal danger today,' Emin said, 'and it will do the men good to see that I take the same risks they do. In the context of a battle plan, my significance should not be overstated. If Kastan Styrax wishes me dead, he will achieve that goal wherever I stand. My death may be a blow, but the Menin know they must do more than that to win the day.'
'It'd be a bloody good start though,' Doranei hissed, prompting a bellow of unexpected laughter from King Emin.
'Hah, you could be right there! So let's give them something more pressing to think about, eh?'
King Emin clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the Menin Army. Their progress was difficult to discern, but they were still well outside the range markers the Narkang troops had installed on the moor.
The ground dead ahead was clear and open, but on both left and right were sets of ditches, staggered so six divisions of archers could hurt the enemy before they came anywhere near the Narkang Army. Working in concert with each other and with squadrons of cavalry supporting them, the archers would engage in a fighting retreat, with little fear of being caught in the open.
'Signal the cavalry to advance,' he called aloud, and a sergeant below him took up the order and it started repeating at a roar. On the tower, a red flag was run up the pole.
'That's not going to be enough, however much we outnumber 'em.'
'I know,' King Emin said distantly, 'but they may yet make a mistake in the heat of the moment. If nothing else, it will give them pause for thought while they attempt to charge through us.' He started towards a ballistae station on their right, where the rampart walkway bulged to allow easy movement, but before he reached it, the voices within the fort were dropping and faces began to turn his way.
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