Miro drew his zenblade and held it aloft. The roar of the men followed him as he dismounted the podium, reverberating through the trees of the forest.
He turned to Marshal Beorn, surprised to see the grizzled veteran wiping at his eyes. "The old rogue," Beorn said. "I fought beside him at the Battle for Ralanast. I saw him go down, surrounded by a pile of enemy dead. Somehow I knew it wasn't the right end for a man like him."
Miro clapped Beorn on the back. "It is good news, the very best. Now let's go show the Black Army some old tricks, with a few new ones thrown in for good measure."
31
THE attack began two hours after dawn.
The landing craft went first, carried upside-down on the arms of the men, who puffed and groaned as they ran towards the shore. From his command post atop a rocky knoll, Miro winced as he heard the popping thuds of the enemy's mortars, and a hail of orbs sailed over the river, through the air, and down on his men.
The flat-bottomed boats served a dual purpose here, for the majority of the orbs destined for the men landed instead on the craft. The enchanters had worked hard to build them as tough as possible with minimal use of essence, and the prismatic orbs exploded against the boats with little damage to the men underneath.
Then Miro's greatest fears were realised when he saw a black cloud rising from behind the towering wall, and at least a dozen dirigibles rose into the air, heading straight for the place where the boats were slipping off the soldiers' shoulders and plunging into the raging river. Even the rail-bows would be useless against the enhanced armour of the dirigibles' shells – it was the bows that were enchanted, not the arrows.
Miro's counter was weak at best, and as the enemy's dirigibles reached the middle of the river, the allies' sole remaining airship came into view, high in the sky above them. The massive net was flung out, weighted at the ends with balls of lead, and flew down to envelope four of the clustered dirigibles in its web. Tangled, the net and its prey continued to fall down and into the river. It was the best Miro could hope for, but it left eight of the black dirigibles ready to rain terror on his unprotected men below.
There were nearly a hundred of the landing craft, each carrying a maximum of eighty men, which meant that for Miro's army to cross, they would have to take multiple journeys. If the first wave was unsuccessful, the boats wouldn't be able to return. The second wave would stay on the wrong bank, and the brave men who first reached the enemy side were doomed.
Then Miro saw how low the Black Army's dirigibles were flying. It would improve the accuracy of their fire, and they were still high enough that nothing could touch them. Nothing except…
"Send in the colossus," Miro said to Marshal Beorn.
"The plan was to wait," Beorn said.
"Unless you have a better way to take out those dirigibles, pass the order."
Beorn passed the message, frowning, clenching and then unclenching his fists.
The thunderous shaking of the ground told Miro his orders had been followed. To his right, he saw the top half of the colossus, twice the height of the tall trees around it. The animator in his controller cage atop its head was bathed in glowing colours as he moved the massive construct forward. But it was slow, too slow!
All of the landing craft were in the water now, each filled with men wearing nothing but armour of steel and leather, and many with no armour at all. Miro could see the boats being tossed around by the vicious river, but they were crossing under a combination of paddling and poling. The second wave of men massed in orderly ranks on the Alturan bank.
The Black Army's dirigibles swooped low and prismatic orbs fell through the sky. Great eruptions of water gushed from the river, and immediately two of the landing boats exploded in flashes of fire as blood and the pieces of soldiers were thrown into the air. Another craft tilted too much as a series of orbs detonated in the water around it, and the river rushed in, capsizing the craft and sending the armoured men to their deaths as they spilled out.
"Come on," Miro pleaded, "hurry."
The colossus reached the riverbank. So much of their preparation had been for this moment. They had tested the idea on land, in the safety of the Dunwood, but on a wild river, in the heat of battle, was another matter altogether.
Miro knew the animator in the controller cage well. His name was Luca Angelo, and the Halrana said he was the best animator of them all. He had seemed a steady man to Miro, calm under pressure, and Miro could only hope those qualities would hold him in good stead now. If the plan was successful, Miro would honour Luca in whatever way he could. He knew, though, that all the man wanted was to be reunited with his family in Ralanast.
In their preparations the river had been scouted and the path mapped in detail. The great stone blocks of the old bridge were impossibly far apart, too far to bridge, and entirely under the water in most cases.