The ragged man

CHAPTER 21

Captain Hain looked around at the army and felt a strange surge of exhilaration. 'Damn but it's a sight,' he said, nudging Sergeant Deebek with his elbow. 'Shame the major's missing it.'

Behind his helm Deebek grinned as best he could, his mangled top lip lifting on one side to reveal the ruined gums underneath.

'Reckon 'e'd agree, sir. I 'eard 'e were sent to play spies in Byora 'til 'e's fit for duty. Can't see 'im takin' that over an honest fight.'

The entire Cheme Third Legion was lined up in tight ranks, as though on the parade ground. Ahead was the Second, and the other side of a copse, the lighter-armed troops of the First. Lord Styrax's favoured shock troops, his minotaur clans, were a few hundred yards north, alongside a division of light cavalry. On their other flank was a legion of Chetse, what was left of the Crocodile Guard bolstered by fresh recruits from the now-quiescent Chetse cities.

Hain had lingered on the sight more than once; he'd never believed he would see the day a legion of the Ten Thousand marched under Menin banners. Once each of the commanding tachrenn had kneeled to Lord Styrax, the enlisted had started to see him as something other than a conqueror: they saw a peerless warrior, a Chosen of the Gods who truly deserved the title.

'Don't hope for much of a fight today, Sergeant,' Hain warned. 'I doubt they'll dare.'

They had skirted the Byoran marshes and gone up through the Evemist Hills and just crossed the Narkang border. Now they stood less than a mile from the fortress town of Merritays, Narkang's first line of defence against aggression from the Circle City that had never materialised until now. Four square stone towers were connected by defensive earthworks and enclosed a small garrison town, accessible only by drawbridges attached to each tower. Some two miles behind Merritays stood a market town that had grown up in its protective lee.

Hain watched the First Legion advance to within bowshot of the defensive lines. The earthworks were built in two enormous steps and looked down over a water-filled ditch. There was a neat stone wall on each level. There weren't many soldiers on view at the moment; Hain knew they wouldn't commit their strength until the Menin attacked.

'What's the plan then, Captain?' Deebek asked conversationally.

'You think General Gaur tells the likes of me?'

'But you might 'ave seen summat, I reckon we ain't 'angin' around for a siege.'

'You're right there,' Hain admitted, 'but I still don't know what's planned. Shut up and we'll both find out.'

'Right you are, sir,' Deebek said. He reached out and gave the axe resting on Hain's shoulder a tap with his fingers, then balled his fist and thumped it against his chest.

'Fer luck, sir,' he explained without embarrassment. The medal he pulled out next was one he'd won ten years previously and he kissed it, as he had before every fight since.

Hain didn't comment. The axe was the one Amber had used to kill the Chosen of Tsatach; if the men now considered it a talisman, all the better. Ten minutes later, they heard the drums beat out the command over the whisking wind: Advance to enemy. Whatever General Guar planned, they were certainly going to get some sort of a fight today.

The Second Legion headed for the nearest of the towers. There was a scramble of movement on the earthworks in response as archers moved out to face the Menin troops. The Third Legion went up to the Second's right flank, five regiments in the lead with the rearguard division mirroring them at a short distance.

Hain's regiment was in the vanguard, nearest to the Second Legion. They were all expecting the next order and as soon as it was given they began to move forward, heavy shields raised against the expected volley of arrows. As the first began to fall a prayer to Karkarn whispered through the ranks, causing Hain to grimace. The pace was swift and steady, with Hain chancing quick looks through the spear-rest of his shield to check when he would have to give the order.

An arrow smashed into his shield and exploded into splinters, causing him to miss his step for a moment, but the soldier behind him half-caught him on the shaft of his spear and shoved him forward, back into place.

'Bastard,' Deebek growled beside him. Hain looked over and saw blood on the exposed side of the sergeant's scarred nose. A splinter of the arrow's shaft protruded from the small cut.

'There go yer looks,' Hain laughed with the men around him.

'Aye, sir.' Deebek glanced back at the man who'd steadied the captain. 'Soldier, you trample 'im next time, 'ear me?'

Still smiling, Hain chanced another look. Arrows were still dropping, but far fewer than he'd expected. Either the garrison was under-strength, or they were keeping the bulk of their men back. As the front rank neared the ditch Hain could see it wasn't going to be easy to negotiate. The slope was almost sheer on each side and the dozen ladders they carried weren't going to be long enough, unless the water was only a foot deep.

'Regiments to halt, defensive position,' came the shouted order, and Deebek instantly relayed it at the top of his voice. The troops slowed to a stop and the front rank kneeled behind their shields, allowing the second rank to rest their own shields on those in front.

'Come on, General,' Hain muttered as he peered left and right, 'don't let us be the decoys.' He saw movement to the right and called forward to the front rank for information.

'A company's left the line, sir,' called a trooper. 'Handful o' men – what in the name of the Dark Place are they doing? They're just standing with shields raised – and some're just sittin' down on the grass behind. Ah no, someone's lying on the ground too, reaching forward with summat.'

'Mages,' Hain and Deebek said together.

'Aye, sir, can't see what he's doin' but there's summat up down there. Some sort o' white mist fillin' the ditch.'

'Any mages on the rampart?'

'No, sir, but the archers are after 'em now.'

'In that case: ready to advance,' Hain said, raising his voice. He didn't know what was about to happen, but you didn't need an entire division to shield a few mages.

'Piss and daemons,' exclaimed one of the men in the front rank, 'that wind just got fuckin' cold.'

'Ice then,' Hain muttered to Deebek. 'They're freezing the ditch; Lord Styrax did just that in the Numarik campaign once.'

'It work?'

Hain shook his head and Deebek chuckled nastily.

'It didn't then, but it was Verliq himself who broke the ice. A mage has got to be fucking strong to shatter half a yard of ice; I reckon King Emin won't have any of those spare, not for a pissy border town.'

Hain lifted his shield a fraction, realising the archers were directing all their efforts at the mages. The mages were taking their time completing the spell, but Hain wasn't surprised. They would be weaker than the Chosen, and it was a long stretch of water. Fortunately for them, the ballista-stations couldn't reduce their elevation enough to hit them, and the shields were proving more than a match for the archers, given the groan of ice Hain could hear. The Menin archers were peppering the rampart to give them as much cover as possible and before long the trooper reported the mages were retreating again.

'Looks like we'll get that fight after all,' Hain muttered as the order to advance was yelled and repeated by every squad sergeant. He saw the first rank drop gingerly down on the ice. One soldier lowered his shield as he tested the ice underfoot – only for a second, but a sharp-eyed archer noticed it all the same and put an arrow through his neck.

'First blood!' came the cry from those around him, 'Heten Sapex!'

'Shift yourselves!' Hain roared as the name was repeated around the regiment in Cheme tradition.

His troops obeyed without a moment's hesitation and raced forward, several losing their balance on the ice but propelling themselves forward as best they could until they reached the other side. More men piled into the shallow impression, the first six ranks of each division, and the ladders were passed forward.

The front rank, pressed against what small cover was afforded by the earth wall, took the ladders and hoisted them, pulling them flat against the slope and locking their arms to hold them fast. The second rank began the terrible scramble up; Hain watched them with the familiar jangle of fear and excitement flooding through his body as he waited for his turn.

A loud roar came from their left and the Chetse warriors barrelled towards the remaining space in the ditch. As in all the Ten Thousand, the bulk of the Crocodile Legion didn't carry shields, only the first few ranks. The rest wore oversized bronze pauldrons, vambraces and one-piece helms to deflect axe blows, and many even eschewed mail shirts, going shirtless to display their painted barrel-chests. Each man bore the legion emblem and Styrax's Fanged Skull in ochre and woad, along with ritual scars and invocations to Kao, Karkarn's berserker Aspect.

They had waited for the Cheme troops to draw the worst of the artillery before making their move, but as soon as they arrived Hain saw the focus turned towards them and a ballista bolt smashed bloodily through the leading knot of four. The next dozen were cut down by arrows before they even reached the far side of the trench.

Hain gasped as he watched the first few reach the lower edge of the rampart. The bare-chested warriors threw themselves at the earth wall, using their enormous axes to climb up it, oblivious to the damage being done from above.

'Mad li'l buggers!' Deebek cackled, seeing Hain's surprise, 'let's move afore they kill 'em all!'

They started up the ladder, Hain in the lead with his shield shipped over one shoulder. An arrow glanced off his exposed pauldron, but he ignored the impact, intent only on getting to the top. The first few up there were fighting for their lives, defending the breach furiously until help could arrive.

As Hain scrambled onto the stone-topped rampart and swung his legs over, he had to throw himself flat on his back as a spear swung wildly forwards. He grabbed the shaft and yanked it back, kicking at the man's knee while he got a better grip on his own weapon. Recovering his balance Hain hopped up and hacked at the man's head, felling him with one blow.

He looked down the trench, a walkway no more than an arm-span in width. His troops were barely able to fight at the moment as they stood two men abreast on each side of the breach and kept behind their shields as the defenders battered at them frantically. Hain made his choice, roared a curse in Menin and charged, swinging his axe down over a soldier's shoulder to catch the man pressing him back. There was a yell and a spear flashed forward but Hain dodged it and reversed his grip on the axe, stabbing forward with the spike that killed Lord Chalat.

They moved forward by inches, driving with shields and lowered spears into the terrified defenders while more troops swarmed up the ladders. Renewed roars of bloodlust came from the Chetse end, telling Hain that the crazed warriors had a breach of their own and were bloodily expanding it. After five minutes of fighting Hain found himself at the corner, looking up at a narrow cleft in the earth that led up to the next tier.

'Keep moving,' he roared, pounding the backs of the soldiers in front. 'Heten Sapex!'

'Heten Sapex!' came the reply as the first two charged up the cut steps, shields held high.

One was taken down by an arrow from the darkness, but the other found an enemy in front of him and barrelled straight on, smashing into the smaller westerner and knocking him to the ground. Hain followed up quickly, hammering the butt of his axe against the man's chest. There was a crack and a scream of pain, and Hain heard nothing more as he continued on, swinging his shield back around just in time to feel the thud of three arrows slam into it.

One passed almost straight through before catching on the steel rim, another glanced off the boss at the centre of the shield. The third went through shield and chain-mail to embed itself in his bicep. He gasped in pain, but he kept moving, unable to stop, even to break off the shaft.

The first blow on his shield ripped the arrow free, and Hain howled as he thrust forward, off-balanced by the wound. The spike of his axe missed its target and he slipped sideways onto one knee, but the welcome sight of Sergeant Deebek charged into view in the next moment. The westerner dropped screaming, Deebek's spear lodged in his armpit, and Hain struggled back to his feet.

On they fought, through the shadowed cleft and back out into the pale morning sun as they reached the larger upper level. There were more soldiers there, but the Menin went through them like butter, cutting a bloody path until the overwhelmed defenders threw down their weapons and the Menin were able to stream down the other side of the rampart into the town beyond.

Hain paused on the rampart, ordering a pair of soldiers to corral the prisoners. He dropped his shield and checked his arm, which was bleeding freely. Cursing, he unhitched the chain-mail and shoved his fingers underneath. The wound was shallow but wide.

'Private, wrap this tight,' he ordered, pulling a piece of cloth from around his neck. As the man was doing as ordered Hain paused for breath and looked at the prisoners they had taken.

'Piss and daemons,' he muttered, 'I know they're smaller here than back home, but this lot're the fucking dregs.'

The soldier looked up as he pulled the rag tight. 'Aye, sir, and not much fight in 'em either.'

The flow of blood stemmed, Hain set off after his regiment. There was a wide killing-ground where the steps opened out at the base of the earthworks, but not enough defenders to plug it. They had retreated to defend the towers and the gates attached to them, the thin lines of soldiers already looked outnumbered. He searched around and found his regimental banner in the thick of the fighting at the northern tower. By the time he got there, there were barely a dozen shields defending the fortified door to the tower.

Hain inspected the gate while his men killed the last of the enemy. He was trying to work out how to drop the drawbridge and admit the rest of the army, but as far as he could see it was controlled by a mechanism on the top, bound by steel clamps and far out of reach.

'That ain't openin',' Deebek opined, appearing as if by magic at the captain's side. 'Cables're cut.'

He pointed to the right of the steel clamps and Hain realised he was right; the drawbridges were never going to be dropped without significant work.

Hain turned and looked at the neat garrison town enclosed within the four ramparts. The only movement he could see was that of the Chetse warriors charging down the streets and kicking in doors to root out the remaining defenders. What he didn't see was civilians, fleeing, screaming, fighting, or any of the above. There was a strong smell of tar in the air, but a noticeable absence of panic.

'Town's been bloody emptied,' he muttered.

'No surprise; they know they're on the front line.'

'But where's the rest of the garrison? This was too easy.'

There was a splintering sound as the door to the tower began to give way.

'Get that door open,' Hain bellowed, suddenly desperate to see what was going on outside the ramparts.

The soldiers redoubled their efforts and hacked furiously at the door, and in half a minute it was sufficiently weakened that they could break it down. The men inside didn't put up much of a fight – most threw down their weapons, and any who didn't were easily dispatched.

As soon as he could Hain was up the spiral stair and onto the upper level, looking down at the earthworks and the troops beyond.

'Karkarn's horn; never trust fucking scryers when they're sure they're right,' he growled, thumping his fist against the stone wall. 'There's the rest!'

Out of the tower window he could see a mass of enemy troops, the best part of a division, he guessed, surrounding the minotaurs, while a second division advanced towards the hastily retreating Menin cavalry. Their speed of attack had been turned against them.

Most of the rest of the army were already at the ramparts, following the order to get as many men inside as fast as possible. A few officers were starting to shout orders to reform their units, but it was a disordered mess. For the next few minutes the minotaurs would be on their own.

'Get back out there,' he yelled, 'get that fucking drawbridge open!'

'It's bust, sir,' a soldier shouted back from the walkway above the gate. 'Ain't movin' no time soon.'

Hain fought his way back down the stair, furious at his powerlessness. He battered aside the soldiers in his way and made his way to the broken door, but before he reached it he heard shouts of panic that sent a chill down his spine. He ran into the sunshine, axe at the ready, and stopped dead.

'Oh Gods,' said someone nearby.

Hain could only gape.

A burning figure stood at the head of the central street, reaching out to the nearest building. A dirty plume of smoke was filling the air above it. The timbers of the building burst into flame with terrifying eagerness, but it was the figure Hain gaped at. This wasn't the Aspect of Death, the Burning Man, nothing like: this was a wild thing of whipping flames and jagged, brutal movements; this was a Chalebrat – a fire elemental, savage and mad.

'Gods preserve us – this king's too like Lord Styrax for comfort,' he whispered before remembering himself. 'Fifth regiment, form ranks!' he shouted at the top of his voice.

Startled faces turned and stared incredulously at him.

'Did I fucking stutter?' he bellowed. 'Shift, you bastards! No man of the Third's going to run away from a bloody elemental, and I don't fancy burning!' He gave the nearest man a shove forward and it stirred the rest into action. 'We ain't getting out o' here in a rush, so it's time to fight!'

He didn't need to point to the ramparts to make his point. There were troops swarming down, others starting back up, and a massed crush at the bottom of the stairs where men had left the high-walled walkways and caught their first sight of the Chalebrat advancing towards them. Some were staring in shock, others fighting to get back up the way they came, but meeting a solid wall of men coming the other way.

The sergeants of the regiment took up the call and Hain left them to it as he ran forward to yell at the confused mass piling over the ramparts. The Chalebrat gave an unearthly screech and drowned out what he was trying to say, but that had the same effect as the message to retreat was at last shouted back at those behind.

The elemental was taller than Lord Styrax, and had elongated arms of fire. A handful of Chetse mercenaries charged it as he watched, but two were smashed aside before they even brought their axes to bear. The others struck, but did no obvious damage and their frantic blows were soon halted as the elemental engulfed them. Once they were dead the elemental stopped and looked all around it, hunting for more to kill.

The Chetse had unwittingly bought him the time he needed. Hain gestured for his men to advance, while muttering, 'Now if I could only remember about Chalebrat, – come on, Gess, think!'

For a moment the wind turned and engulfed him in a cloud of dirty black smoke. He coughed and flapped ineffectually, trying to clear the air around him.

'Sir!' Deebek called as the regiment trotted up in formation, 'you sure 'bout this?'

Hain forced himself to straighten. 'Nope, but we're doing it anyway! Fore company, go left and flank it. Rear company, we're going straight.' He took a breath to clear the last of the smoke from his lungs and raised his voice. 'Work in squads, strafe it and go clear – every time you hit an elemental it weakens, so we need to hit it enough to send it running. Keep it turning and go for it when it turns after another squad.'

Hain caught the eye of a company lieutenant and pointed to the streets on the left. The man saluted and trotted off, half the regiment following him. The rest were already formed into ten-man blocks, ready to move at his order. The first two squads pushed forward. The small town was built on a simple grid: an outer ring of barracks, within which were warehouses and official buildings, each surrounded by a square of small, single-storey homes. Hain guessed the intention was to have easily demolished houses around each to prevent fire from spreading, but that relied on the fire not moving of its own volition.

The first squads peeled away and headed down the right-hand avenue, while the remaining three squads advanced slowly. The Chalebrat had moved out of sight, but the fresh flames leaping from a rooftop pinpointed its position pretty well. Hain, leading one squad himself, paused and waited for the other company to come around and catch them up. His men were hugging one side of the street they were on, the other side was aflame and the heat growing increasingly oppressive.

As soon as he saw a group of men appear from behind a house up ahead, Hain gestured to the warehouse and told them to circle around it before leading his own men around the corner. There they saw the Chalebrat hammering its fists against the closed door of a warehouse. The wood blackened under its touch, gobbets of flame remaining like fire-arrows wherever it touched. With a yell, one of the squads he'd sent around charged forward, shields raised and spears levelled. The Chalebrat retreated a step in surprise, then screeched its defiance as the squad barrelled towards it.

'Move!' Hain shouted as he watched the attack.

The first few spears just passed through the elemental's body, but at last one caught its arm and it looked like it ripped a piece of flame away. The Chalebrat roared and grabbed at the spear, jerking the man from the end of the rank and dragging him towards it. Another man threw his own spear over-arm at the creature; it missed, but distracted the Chalebrat for long enough for the captured soldier to scramble away.

'So becoming solid enough to grab a spear must take more effort,' Hain muttered, 'and when it is we can hurt it more.'

Seeing Hain's unit advancing, the Chalebrat hopped forward to meet them. Hain led the squad at a run, his men behind him, spears levelled. As the Chalebrat slapped a burning palm down onto one shield, three soldiers managed to score hits. The spears passed through its body with ease, but now they just had to keep on doing the same thing.

A third squad came forward hard on Hain's heels, but the creature was ready for them this time.

As Hain turned his men around he heard screams; the Chalebrat had leaped right into the centre of the squad and engulfed them all in licking flames. The fourth and fifth fared better, passing and striking almost as one before peeling off on either side of it.

Now the Chalebrat saw soldiers all around it and hesitated, confused by the choice. At last it picked a direction, but as soon as it began to move the squad retreated and another closed in from another angle.

Hain bellowed above the din of cracking flames from the warehouse and two more squads advanced from between buildings, moving at a fast trot with their shields and spears held high.

As the remnants of the decimated squad screamed in agony nearby, their skin blackened, their weapons abandoned, the creature appeared confused.

It barely moved as the two new squads approached – until they were close, when the elemental jumped forward and tried to smash through the interlocked shields with its fists. As soon as it had chosen a target, the free squad lurched towards it, their spears lowered, and passed it at a trot.

Three or four spear-heads passed through the Chalebrat's body without apparent effect, but as it struck down at the squad, the company lieutenant slashed up with his scimitar and as elemental arm met sword there was an explosion of fire.

Hain heard his lieutenant cry out as he fell to the floor, but the clash drove the elemental back too.

'Come on,' Hain roared, axe held high, and the circling squads obeyed, charging forward as one. Hain was the first to reach it and once again he led them past, strafing to get its attention off the beleaguered squad that had faltered. The elemental turned to follow them before it saw the remaining units.

Slashing wildly at the air, the Chalebrat tried to back away, then realised there was nowhere to go and turned towards Hain's squad. He yelled at them to stop, and his elite troops obeyed, hunkered down behind their shields and set their spears forward.

The elemental thrashed at them with a long whip of fire, but it burst harmlessly on their shields and within seconds the remaining squads were behind it, impaling it on their spears. The Chalebrat reeled and turned, snapping spear-shafts with savage slaps.

Now's our chance, Hain realised, and he pushed his way through the shields. Ignoring the scorching heat he ran forward as the elemental battered away the never-ending wall of spears. His eyes watering, his skin tightening, he could feel the Chalebrat like a brand pressed against his exposed lips and chin. Hain hacked upwards at its arm, and was rewarded by an impact. The contact drove him back a step, but he forced himself on, eyes half-closed and swinging blindly at the yellow glare.

The elemental screamed again and again, the light intensified and Hain felt a blow to his shoulder that knocked him over, but in the next moment the fires winked out.

Hain felt himself hit the ground and kept on rolling, abandoning his axe in a desperate attempt to put out any flames. When his mind registered cheers coming from all around him he stopped and blinked up. After the glare of the Chalebrat the smoke-tinted sky looked blessedly dark and cool. He fought his way to his feet and took a breath, gasping with pain as the skin on his lips split and blood spilled down his mouth.

'Sir!' he heard an urgent voice call as hands went under his armpits and helped him up. 'Sir, you 'urt?'

Hain blinked again and at last the blurs resolved themselves into shapes. 'Gods,' he croaked, realising it was Deebek's mangled features right in front of him, 'can't be in paradise yet.'

He heard the words slur and felt blood spill from his mouth, but the twisted grin on Deebek's face told him the injury wasn't as serious as the pain in his face suggested.

'Don't worry, sir, there's a special'un fer the likes o'us.'

'The ugly?' Hain asked drunkenly, prompting a roar of laughter that showed him far more of Deebek's remaining teeth than Hain needed.

'Bloody heroes, sir!'

Hain looked around at the cheering soldiers, then down at the scorched earth underfoot. There was a shapeless, blackened patch at his feet about a yard across, but no other trace of the Chalebrat.

'Bloody heroes,' he repeated before half-spitting and half-dribbling more blood from his mouth. Someone pressed his axe into his hand and Hain held it up to roars of approval from the survivors.

'Well, boys,' he said as loud as he could, wincing at the effort of a smile to make the old sergeant proud, 'you wanted a real war and an enemy worth fighting. Looks like we got one.'