The Year of Our War (16 page)

Insects battered at the shield wall. The ringing of blows, metal on shell, metal on metal, sounded like a foundry. “I don’t like this,” said Lightning. “The men haven’t eaten. They’ve been walking all day.”

I ordered a fire to be built at the back. The men passed firebrands from hand to hand until weak points of wavering light lit the mayhem. We held against the Insects, and still more Insects came. We passed water bottles to the shield wall so that the human fortification could drink. They were crouched with all their strength against the shields. The archers were barefoot for grip in the mud. Lightning sent those on the outside to join the brawl and kept the Donaise division shooting. None of us could see where their arrows were going. He sent an order for our horses to be brought close behind us. Our breath hung in the air; it was freezing cold.

“I can’t see Harrier’s horsemen,” said Swallow. “I just bloody hope he’s still there.”

“He’s trustworthy,” said Lightning.

“Yes, but where the fuck is he?”

There was little to see. I raised my lantern to glimpse the chain mail and leather-strap backs of the foot soldiers directly in front. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder five men deep before merging into darkness. I couldn’t see the ends of the line either. I heard grunts, shrieks, and steady chopping from the shield wall. A scout told me it was crushed and breaking.

“Comet?” Another anxious pale face.

“Yes, Scaup. What’s it like down there?”

He pointed. “That side is breached and Harrier is advancing.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” I said to Lightning.

“Comet,” Scaup blinked, “there’s but a handful left.”

I’m the Messenger so I should be down there, among them, to pass on Lightning’s orders, but I had promised to protect Swallow.

The shield wall fell in on both sides before I saw it fall in front of me. Lightning and Harrier had already pressed ahead. Insects went over the wall in a wave, crashed into the fyrd behind. Men raised their swords and shields. Some raised their hands instinctively and the Insects sliced their fingers off. Insects continued pouring in. How many were out there? They mangled the shield men, their weight crushing, jaws lacerating those trapped beneath.

I nodded and Scaup shouted, “At them,” on my left. “At them!” echoed on my right. A woman’s voice: Swallow. Bloodthirsty bitch! Just like Vireo. Why do battles have this ruthless effect on women?

We drove the horses forward all of ten meters before coming up against the crush. Insects clambered toward us over corpses; their shells were wet with melted snow. Guiding my horse with my knees, I tangled with the first Insects. Swallow hewed them with her sword. She smiled. She hacked down at an Insect on her right side, severing its antennae, and then up in a flat arc that cut a compound eye in two. Twenty Insects later her arm was aching and she wasn’t smiling so much. I fended off twenty more, before it became clear they would never stop. Scaup’s horse stumbled; Insects slashed its belly and dragged it down.

Lightning’s armored white trampled the warm carcass. “We must go,” he said grimly.

“Then we’d leave the foot soldiers behind!” Swallow protested. Her gauntlet was stained with blood from a gash over the wrist but she appeared not to care. That made Lightning’s decision: “We’re leaving, right now. You first—get to Rachis.”

“No.”

“Jant is going. Harrier is going. Swallow—put that shield at your back and follow them.”

“This is my stand—!” She seemed determined to die with the men. Her shout ended in a gasp because I grabbed the reins from her hand, whipped her horse with the end of them, and we lunged away together.

We skittered down the hill into the ravine, scattering stones. We rode blind, the Awndyn cavalry following us. I glanced back to see how many there were; perhaps seven, eight hundred. Had we lost a hundred horse?

Behind them chased the chitin tide of Insects. Lightning was following; I saw him pulling sheaves of arrows from his saddlebag and stuffing them into the quiver.

Cries and thuds reverberated in the ravine as the abandoned infantry fought to the death. The voices thinned quickly, though the noise they made grew in desperation, and then abruptly there was silence.

Scaup had gone. Harrier was missing. I couldn’t see any hoof prints on the path. My legs were shaking. I leaned over the horse’s neck till her mane brushed my cheek. She was spitting foam, running with sweat. Ice had lacerated the skin on her forelegs. Swallow’s bay was in worse condition, foam mixed with blood. But Swallow kept a smile on her face that fired my heart. I understood why Lightning loved her.

W
e fled in the direction we had come. I looked back, calling the men to follow me. We left many Insects behind—our soldiers’ corpses distracted them.

“Slower, Jant,” Swallow pleaded.

“Not yet. Soon.”

“You’re going to kill this horse.”

I wanted to ride to Awia. We could regroup then; hopefully we would be near Rachis.

At 6
A.M
. we passed the border. An hour later we slackened our pace. Swallow’s bay was mad with pain. With Lightning between us and the trailing Insects, and the smooth cobbles of Rachiswater road under our hooves. I thought the crisis had passed.

“We left the infantry,” Swallow said. Her face was a mask of guilt.

“Don’t think about it. We’re not safe ourselves yet.”

“They were in agony. They all died. It’s my fault.”

I remembered Lightning saying that all Zascai die, it’s just a question of when. I could not comfort her. I was watching a dark shape just left of the road resolve into a mass of Insects. They ran alongside us, and attacked immediately.

Swallow copied my line of sight, and screamed, “Where the
fuck
are they all coming from? So close to town!”

“This way! The Palace for shelter!”

Swallow urged her dying horse. I led them at a gallop off the road and across leveled grass. We sped along a plantation path and into the gardens of white Rachiswater Palace. We splashed through the edge of the lake.

Mad confusion as we rode. We had no formation. I had no way of making my orders known save yelling. But everybody was shouting. The horses were protesting, the wounded soldiers screaming. The women soldiers howled. Men called to their companions. The air was a cacophony. Swallow gathered a tight group of riders—her rich voice carried well, she commanded attention through sheer volume. But it was terrible—Insects ran among the riders, biting at horses’ legs. Men seemed to rush from all directions to the light, toward the Palace walls.

Flickering torchlight shone by the foot of the wall. Yellow torches glowed on the top, reflecting in the lake. The stench of smoke was so strong that I thought the Palace was burning. Then I saw reinforcements marching out, a welcoming party for us. They held long pikes and stood along the foot of the walls. Men crowded into the torchlight, eager to get through the gate, and for the first time I clearly saw their rictus faces. The gate was shut.

“Swallow,” I shouted. “Stay close!”

“What’s happening?” she begged.

I didn’t know but I dreaded it. The men held their long spears at rest. The others carried a quickly collected array of torches, candle lanterns, and oil lamps. Shadows from the pikes striped the wet grass. A word from the gatehouse—I didn’t hear through the tumult—and the pikemen stepped forward. As one, they leveled their staves. Uproar from the Awndyn cavalry, suddenly on the wrong end of the pikes.

I pulled my horse in and she stopped less than a meter from the closest pike.

“No,” screamed Swallow. “No! This is all wrong!” She shook her sword and shouted at a pikeman, “You there! What are your orders? What has the King said?”

He stayed impassive.

“Why won’t you let us in?” She bit back a sob of frustration.

The soldier made not a sound.

I approached the cylindrical gatehouse. “Don’t worry,” I said. It was a strange misunderstanding, but I could sort it out. I called, “Comet calls on you in the name of San Emperor, for the will of god and the protection of the Circle.” That was my phrase of command which Messengers present and for immemorial decades before me have used and it has never failed to work before. “Open these gates!” Nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing happened. “Staniel?” I called. “Rachiswater? Come to the parapet and speak to me!”

“You bastard,” said Swallow, but I couldn’t tell whether she meant Staniel or me. Where the light was poor, two horses had run onto the spears. That heralded the arrival of Lightning’s men. Lightning’s archers were hopelessly mixed in with more Insects. More and more Insects arrived. They covered the ground. The Insects got to work biting horses, pulling down men. The horses forced away from the Insects, between the pikes. Unhorsed men found themselves on the ground where they were trampled or gashed. A crowd of unhorsed men grew; they pushed back from the pikes, squeezing the cavalry closer to the Insects.

Lightning saw Swallow’s leaf-green livery and forced through the crush to our side. “I had dire trouble following you,” he said. “Harrier got bitten.”

“Is Harrier here?” I asked.

“He’s somewhere in that mess. Why all the halberds?”

“I don’t know.” I watched in horror as an unhorsed man cap-à-pie in white armor grappled against Insects.

“We’ll soon put a stop to this,” said Lightning and raised his voice. “In the name of San Emperor, for god’s—”

“I tried that,” I said.

“Open up! Open up
now
! Do you know who I am? Lightning
Micawater
! Comet is here! Governor Awndyn is here! In the name of the
Emperor
let us in!”

“Maybe they think we’re attacking them,” I suggested.

“I bloody am now.” Lightning fitted an arrow to bowstring. “I’m going to shoot them one by one.”

“What good will that do?”

“It’ll give us some space.”

“No! They still won’t open the gate!”

“Have they forgotten who we
are
?”

“It’s because we’re mixed with Insects,” Swallow said.

I glanced at her dirty face. “You’re right.” Staniel’s fear of Insects was so great he wouldn’t risk allowing even one into the Palace courtyard. If that meant men would struggle and die outside his very walls then so be it.

E
very second we stayed it became more difficult to leave because we were hemmed in by our own dead and the dead Insects. My horse was treading among the fallen men. Our cavalry pushed into those on the ground, knocking them over and trampling them. The shaggy hooves as big as dinner plates came down on heads and smashed through shields.

Two of our captains were still alive. I waved at them and yelled, “Go to the edges! That way! No!
That
way! Get Donaise to follow you and head toward the town. Go
slowly
!” I told them to be slow because they would need time to regroup and any fast movement might lead to panic.

There was attrition at the edges of the mass, as well as loud screams from the wounded at the center. Men at the edges were running away. Men were so terrified they would chance fleeing into the infested park. They threw off their helmets the better to see, flung down swords and they ran like madmen. One ran at full tilt, legs pumping, fisted hands ripping off armor as he went. When one ran, the men on either side gave up and ran as well. Then the ones next to them ran, and within seconds a whole section of the crowd had bolted. They had blank, honest faces without any shame or fear of reprisal.

“Shit.” I realized that those who risked the darkness were certainly doomed. There was no way of stopping them. We would have to pick up the bodies later. But what chance for “later” if we don’t save ourselves?

The captains did their best to move men down the bulwark, easing the crush. Harrier had shouted his division into some sort of order and they seemed to perceive the correct direction for the town. I looked down on this mass of struggling people. Those on foot were at head level with the horses’ backs and they were suffocating. The Castle’s badge drew them to me, but I could do nothing to protect them. I felt the incredible pressure of bodies on bodies. Men positioned their shields to stop their ribs being crushed.

I moved my horse outward, but that just pushed the horses behind me more tightly against the Insects. Swallow used her spur against a man’s cheek, then kicked his neck as he reeled back. She sobbed uncontrollably. Harrier pointed to Rachis Town, raised both hands questioningly, clenching the reins. I wanted the unhorsed men to escape in front of us before the horses followed, but I had to get Swallow out of there.

I felt so powerless that callous indifference took hold, and I was thinking: he must be dead, god, she can’t survive, as people fell, wounded, around me.

The Insects were ripping through immobile horses and men. I heard them crackling. I heard the sound of flesh tearing and the horses’ screams, louder as Insects chewed their way closer.

My face got spattered with blood when an Insect bit into a horse’s heart. Swallow screamed as she was sprayed with blood head to foot. It looked black in the torchlight. She stared in my direction with blind panic, trying to pull her leg up onto her mare’s back away from a grasping claw. Then she was gone. Aghast, I saw her foot caught in the stirrup. It flailed in the air. It vanished completely as the Insects pulled her down. The horse stumbled over her.

I heard Lightning bellow through the tumult, yelling something to Harrier. My horse’s foreleg gave way as an Insect bit through the tendons. She fell forward and collapsed, spilling me from the saddle. I hit the ground in a burst of pain. I clutched my shoulder, thinking it broken. I saw the underside of a thorax as an Insect jumped and just had time to shield my face. It wrapped four legs round the shield and wouldn’t let go. I struggled with its crushing weight and then had to cast the shield aside. I scrabbled for my ice ax in the mud and dispatched the next five Insects with flair.