Nege could see the lines of morning star banners on the edge of the third wall. Precious few steps had been made into the gap between the walls. Precious many soldiers had been lost in the process. And though the weary Truscan legion had been fighting for nearly an hour, the Teljuks had yet to even see the second gate.
“I’m only going to watch,” Nege said.
“Listen,” Sono said in his mind. “You are under the authority of—” A collapsing piece of the wall hanging over the second gate shook the wall Sono stood on, cutting her off. “Fine. Stay here and die with these imperialist slavers. Murel and I will be at the dome. Send for us if you see our fellow Prophets enter the city with Hemend.”
With that, and the echoing crumble of the gate’s battlements, Sono teleported Murel and herself away from the battle.
Standing on a broken tower above a fierce battle would have been frightening for most, even most Prophets. But Nege didn’t think of the danger. Even as he deflected a cannonball with a swing of his staff, a blast that would have completely caved in the already half-demolished tower he stood in, Nege couldn’t help but smile.
Eternine’s orders and shouts of encouragement to his crossbow and musket-wielding soldiers on the walls faded with the sounds of battle as the Red Prophet took in the sights. The final assault, or the first final assault as Murel had called it, had come in a solid wave after a morning-long bombardment. Thousands of Teljuks formed a sea of red-cloaked, curved-sworded warriors who marched in formation on the two weakest points in the walls.
As the fighting raged, a pitched battle took place in the southern bay. Hemend’s fleet had finally engaged the pitifully small Truscan navy. Though they were outnumbered fifteen to one, the Truscan ships were tall three-masters built for the high seas and with battlements worthy of castle walls. The low-keeled Teljuk boats could barely get beside the massive Truscan ships, much less mount a concerted effort to board them. Neither side gained any ground and the Truscans kept the Teljuks from reaching the undefended sea walls.
At the city gates, the main gate had been the sight of heavy fighting, along with the northern gap in the third wall. While the northern gap was holding, however weakly, the main gate moved back and forth as the Teljuks raised ladders to take its battlements. Hundreds perished by the defending few, shot or pierced by their weapons or falling to their doom from the high, hardened walls.
The ladders were a delaying tactic, though, as half a dozen siege towers were rolled forward to take the gateway in a final push. In concert with the siege towers’ movements, the Teljuk troops in the northern gap halted their advance. They prepared to make a charge at the exact moment the iron spike-tipped doors of the siege towers fell upon Eternon’s walls.
“They’re pulling back! They’re pulling back!” Eternine shouted as he slapped his general on the back. “Reform the first regiment and have the fourth make fast march.”
“We should pull back,” Eternine’s general advised. “The gate is about to fall. If we withdraw to the second gate we could—”
“No! Send the fourth regiment now!”
“To aide the second and first regiments at the gate?”
Nege didn’t hear what Eternine’s orders were. The emperor only pointed the direction he wanted them to go and nearly kicked the runner to get him to deliver the orders more swiftly. In a moment, the fourth regiment made a fast march out the second wall’s gates while they were still opening and made their way through the valley between the walls.
Nege could see the siege towers close, almost hear it when their wooden bodies collided with the stone walls. He could see the eyes, though they were far away, of the Teljuks reforming at the northern gap. They stood a short dozen meters behind their round shields as they prepared to charge the reforming layer of pikes and tower shields. The Truscans were few, the Teljuks many. And though Nege could see this difference, could see the Teljuks as they charged forward, there was one imperceptible emotion his Mother-dweller senses picked up over everything else: fear.
As the iron drawbridges of the siege towers hit the walls, the Teljuks at the northern gate charged. Through firebombs and spears, swords and guns, the Teljuks pushed. The few remaining on the gate’s battlements quickly pulled back from the tide of curved swords. One Teljuk, a man over six and a half feet tall, barreled his way through the defenders. He carried only his bloodied sword and the bloodied morning star flag. To the cheers and shouts of his fellow soldiers below and around him, the man pressed through, ignoring the wounds he received, to plant the Teljuk banner on the highest tower of the city’s main gate.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
In the northern gap, however, the Teljuks could not see their banner waving. They had faced the defenders for days. For days, a handful had fought and routed a mass. For days, only a tiny bit of troops had stopped every Teljuk attempt, had prevented them from seeing even the dust behind those walls. As they charged to this line of few, they hesitated just a moment.
That was the moment Eternine wanted. That was the moment he had fought with so few to achieve. That was the moment the fourth regiment, fresh from their time behind the walls of the second gate, charged through the northern gap and into the frightened ranks of the hesitant Teljuks.
Fear overwhelmed them. They were the aggressors. They outnumbered the Truscans. Yet here a solid wall of fresh tower shields advanced into them with a vicious battle cry of “Infinity and Eternine!” their double-headed banner seaming to scream the same.
Nege laughed, knowing Murel would be furious at the tactical failure of allowing an assembly of troops who could quickly overrun those they fought against to panic at the sight of so few. Yet the Truscans were more than mere soldiers now. They were a wall that could not be broken. So the Teljuks ran.
The entire fourth regiment chased the Teljuks away while the third halted at the wall’s edge, forming up while their eager comrades ran into the field. Though they could have chased those thousands of Teljuk warriors back to their own cannon, back to the line of cavalry waiting to make a counter charge, the Truscan regiment turned their banners and their weapons south, toward the main gate.
The Teljuk giant who had taken the main gate, fighting for his life to keep that flag flying, pointed toward the advancing fourth regiment and shouted a warning to his commanders below him. But they couldn’t hear. The Teljuks were about to break through the gate, about to plunge into the city. They couldn’t be bothered with what was behind them, till it was on top of them.
In a shout full of curses and cries of Infinity’s might, the fourth regiment of the last legion plunged into the rear of the mass of Teljuks. Those in the back tried to move forward, those in the front to move backward, to reform against the strangely more confident foes in front. The friends met in the middle, and were cut down by enemies all around them. When the Teljuks tried to make a cavalry charge to relieve their troops, the guns and bows of the Truscans on the walls, easily able to pick out such large targets, mowed them down till they vowed never to go near the walls on horseback again. Between a hammer and an anvil, the Teljuks fled.
When the sun set, the banner the Teljuk giant had placed still waved on the main gate. It waved in the arms of a Truscan soldier as he mocked the cannon crews far away. He stood on that giant’s body, then tossed the flag to the Teljuk corpse-ridden ground.
Nege felt the joy, the relief for the victory won. But it was only partial joy, partial relief. The cloud of troops remained on the other side of the field, and every Truscan knew that another “final” assault would come soon.
“I know what I’m asking. Didn’t you see what happened out there?” the emperor asked, pointing toward the door of Infinity’s Wisdom.
“I was not present during the battle, Eternine. I’m assuming, since you’re standing here, that you succeeded in delaying the Teljuk conquest,” Sono replied.
They spoke in a nave of the holy building, away from the eavesdropping citizens hiding and praying in the dome. Murel and the Patriarch were also standing by their respective friends, acting as a shield to the eyes of the people wanting to know what the Prophets and the emperor were talking about.
“Delay? We annihilated a full-scale assault with a third of their force. We can defeat Hemend,” Eternine said.
“Hemend has many more reserves than what he used today,” Murel noted.
“And with the power of Infinity, those too will be struck down,” the Patriarch explained. “How can you be so blind to It’s power? Turn your eyes toward Infinity’s miracles, that we fully halted any attempt at the sea wall and turned away the hordes at the gates. Only by—”
“Patriarch, enough,” Eternine said as Nege approached the group. Nege felt a little panic when the Patriarch spoke, as if his words would do more harm than good to the emperor’s attempts to win over the Prophets before him. “I am sure Infinity is in favor of our victory.”
This statement seemed to sate the Patriarch, though Nege knew the man was annoyed at being silenced.
“Nege,” Sono said when she saw the Red approaching, trying to be quiet as possible as he walked along the marble floors. “Where have you been?”
“I wanted to see the Teljuk man who planted the flag,” Nege said simply. “He was very brave.”
“And very bravely repulsed,” Eternine said. “You saw the whole battle, I’m assuming?” Nege nodded. “Good. Then you can explain the tactical chances of our victory. If you want to stop this needless bloodshed, Sono, you can only do so by convincing Hemend to cease his attacks, or at the very least shield our walls from his troops.”
“The solution to ending this bloodshed, Emperor Eternine the Third…” Sono said. Nege felt the use of the emperor’s full name as a mark of disrespect. Sono had nothing but disdain for the two men who had previously held that title. “Is for you to evacuate this pile of dirt and stone. You must leave the city and abandon your empire and title. Only then will we support your continued survival.”
“I think you should hear from all three colors first.”
“Your confidence will not convince me, Emperor.”
Eternine’s smile was genuine. He turned toward both Sono and Nege, even Murel, as friends. He hoped, prayed, that they soon would be, and counted on Nege to make it so.
“I saw a lot out there. Battle, death, passion,” Nege explained after a long pause to gather his thoughts. “I don’t see why I’m supposed to be the decision maker here. The Sept already made its decision. Eternine, you’ll have to win this on your own.”