Брайан Макклеллан - Sins of Empire

To Styke’s surprise, Bravis slipped from his saddle and staggered over to the headless body of Fidelis Jes, nudging it with his toe. He whispered to Styke, “I’m working on the fly here, so just go with it.” He looked up at the bodyguards and in a loud voice said, “What did this shitheel tell you was going to happen to your families?” The uncomfortable silence continued, and so did Bravis. “Did he tell you they’d be evacuated from the city in due time? That there were more of us ready to help your friends and relatives make their way away from Landfall should the garrison fall?

“Or,” Bravis went on, “did he try to tell you that the Riflejacks would hold the city on their own while you all got as far as possible from the fighting?” He shook his head theatrically. “I can see those saddlebags. Thousands of you are packed for a journey, coming down to escort some ancient relic instead of protecting your homes. That sounds a lot like fleeing.”

The Silver Rose from earlier spoke up. “We’re not fleeing. We’re on the Lady Chancellor’s business.”

“The Lady Chancellor’s business is protecting Landfall,” Bravis snapped back. He reached down to Jes’s body, looking for a moment like he might vomit again, and plucked the Platinum Rose from Jes’s chest before dancing back just a little too quickly. He thrust his finger at Styke. “Fidelis Jes has been telling you this man – this hero of Fatrasta – is a dangerous criminal. Jes has been lying to you, just like he was lying to me, and this next lie will lose us the city we love, the city full of our friends and families.”

“And what would you have us do?” the Silver Rose demanded.

“A thousand heavily armed Blackhats? I’d have you protect the city. You see these flags?” He pointed behind the Blackhats, where the Mad Lancers had gathered up, and Jackal and the Riflejack bannerman rode side by side. “Ride with them. Ride with Ben Styke, hero of the Fatrastan Revolution. Ride with the Riflejacks, defenders of Landfall as appointed by the Lady Chancellor herself. What would I have you do? Fight. Now get back to the main column, gather the rest of the Blackhats, and ready yourselves for a fight.”

Three Blackhats, all of them wearing Silver Roses, conferred among themselves. They turned to Bravis. “Who’s in command of the Blackhats?” one of them asked.

Bravis drew himself up and pinned the Platinum Rose to his chest. “I am.”

There was a brief pause, and for a moment Styke thought they might laugh in Bravis’s face. But the Silver Rose grimaced, then nodded. “As you command, grand master.” He turned, leading the rest of Jes’s bodyguards through the Mad Lancers and galloping back toward where the main body of the Blackhats had formed up about half a mile away.

Styke joined Taniel beside Michel Bravis and took a long, hard look at him. The Blackhat had forgettable features – a weak chin, round face, and light brown hair mussed from a long ride. He was also trembling like a leaf. Compared to the corpse at their feet, he wasn’t a terribly convincing grand master. But, Styke supposed, he did have a head.

“Did you just convince them to protect the godstone by convincing them not to protect the godstone?” Taniel asked, tongue-in-cheek.

“Yeah,” Bravis said shakily. “I think I did.” He looked between Styke and Taniel. “I take it you two know each other.”

Styke looked at Taniel. Taniel wore a small smile, eyes very clearly saying that he was not yet done with Styke. Styke ignored it. “Yeah.”

“And you’re down here to intercept the Dynize that are south of us?” Bravis asked.

“Right on that account, too.”

Bravis looked about ready to faint. “Oh, thank Adom I got it all right. Whew.”

Styke eyed Bravis, not sure he was ready to trust a Blackhat with anything, even if he was obviously with Taniel. In fact, he realized, that might make him less trustworthy. “The godstone, is this the artifact Lady Flint sent me down here to protect?”

“It is,” Taniel confirmed.

“Do we know anything else about the Dynize we’re going to face?”

“Only that there’s at least four regiments.” Taniel lifted his chin in the direction of the Blackhat army. “And that, with the Blackhats, you’ve got an extra thousand men and two Privileged.”

Styke went and found the knife he’d borrowed from Ibana and put it in his saddlebags, taking a few moments to clean the deep gash along his fingers and bind it with a handkerchief. It stung badly, and it would hurt his ability to fight, but he could still flex his fingers.

He checked the blade on his own knife and cleaned the blood off it on Jes’s jacket. “Blackhats are little more than a bunch of thugs. They’re not going to be much good against four regiments of these Dynize. The bastards are tough , and they do not break.”

“Make them break,” Taniel said.

Styke weighed the odds in his head. A thousand Blackhats. Eight hundred Riflejack and Mad Lancer cavalry. A few hundred Fatrastan soldiers already guarding the godstone. Two-to-one numbers in favor of the Dynize did not please him. “I’ve had worse odds,” he said, heading for his horse. “But you’re coming with me, Two-shot, and I want you to scatter the brains of any Privileged those bloody Dynize have with them.”

By the time Michel returned to the dig site, the land-barge and its cargo had already begun to move, creeping at a disappointing speed across the fields while horses pulled and the whips of teamsters rose and fell. Laborers helped push from behind, or rushed on ahead to smooth the ground with hands and shovels.

The monolith was moving, but Michel could already see it was going nowhere quick.

He forced himself to ignore the murmurs of the Blackhats behind him and rode up to Major Cole, who stared for a long time at the Platinum Rose on Michel’s chest. For better or worse, Michel was in charge now. He was not, however, confident of a command that began with the bloody murder of the last grand master. If he survived the day wearing this Platinum Rose, he promised himself, he’d be a very happy man.

“Sir,” Major Cole finally said, saluting.

Michel put as much bluster as he dared behind his voice. “Major Cole, we’ve received almost two thousand riders as backup from Landfall. Colonel Styke is taking command of the defense of the monolith. I asked him to keep the fight as far from us as possible, but I’m going to keep your soldiers in reserve here with the land-barge in case the Dynize make it past them.”

“With the what?”

“The land-barge.” Michel felt his cheeks redden. “I just thought it looked like…”

“A barge on land,” Cole said with a reluctant nod. “Yeah, I get it. It fits. We’ve all just been calling it the big wagon.”

“Mine is much better. Keep your men nearby, Major Cole.” Michel slowly trailed off, watching as orders were shouted, some confusion about the chain of command was cleared up, and then the Blackhats rode off behind Styke’s cavalry. He looked around, realizing that Cole had already gone to see to his own men, and found that his only companion was Ka-poel. “Did Taniel go with Styke?” he asked.

Ka-poel nodded.

“Right. That doesn’t leave us with much if the Dynize manage to break through the Mad Lancers.”

Another nod, this one slightly more solemn.

Michel’s horse suddenly lurched under him, nearly knocking him from the saddle, and he decided he’d had enough. “To the pit with this,” he said, climbing down once the animal had calmed. “I am not riding on that thing any longer. Horses were meant to pull carriages, not be ridden.”

Ka-poel didn’t look terribly impressed. She turned her own horse around to face the south, then pulled out her rucksack and began to rummage through it again while Michel approached the land-barge, dodging laborers and ropes. He pulled himself onto the platform, then walked alongside the horizontal monolith, doing his best not to touch it, until he reached where Professor Cressel stood at the very front of the land-barge.