Deniz addressed another man. "Lieutenant Oster, send ten men to the walls. Spread the word as quickly as possible. Tell those who fight that we're taking their women and children to safety. By the stars, if they weren't fighting before, they will now."
Deniz turned to Miro. "Do you know how to scuttle a ship?"
"I can start a fire."
"That'll do. Start here, close to the city."
Commodore Deniz raised his voice. "You know what we're doing here. Be prepared to act on your own initiative. We're sending our women and children to a new land, while we destroy those ships we aren't taking with us so that our enemy cannot follow. When a ship is full, assemble a crew, and set sail immediately. This is our only chance, men. Don't let me down!"
"Aye aye, Commodore!" the sailors chorused.
They quickly dispersed, and Miro realised he had ten men looking to him for orders.
"Where on the ships will we be guaranteed to find tools to make fire?" Miro asked the closest.
"The captain's cabin, sir. It'll be locked though."
"We can break down the doors," Amber said.
"Right. I'll take five men, you take another five. But, Amber…"
"What is it?"
"Be ready to flee. When they storm the city, it'll happen faster than you can imagine."
50
"LORD REGENT, we must order the men out to fight the mob," the Tingaran captain said.
"They'll storm the palace," said an Alturan officer.
Rogan Jarvish cursed.
He'd gone out to speak with the crowd, but with nothing to add to his promises that things would be better, his words hadn't had any effect. He could hear the shouts now, rising up from Imperial Square, loud and angry.
"The Evermen will return!"
"Why should an Alturan rule Tingara?"
"The Assembly of Templars is not evil!"
"When will the essence return?"
Rogan paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists with every stride. "I can't countenance slaughter," he said. "And to what end? If they see blood, they'll tear down the gates."
"They'll tear down the gates anyway," the Alturan officer said bluntly. "This is a mob. They can't be reasoned with."
Rogan looked at Amelia, sitting tensed on a chair, looking at him with trepidation.
"Send my wife and son to safety," he suddenly said.
"We can't. Until we clear the grounds around the palace we're stuck here."
Rogan swore again.
He thought back to the past few weeks and wondered what he could have done differently. Since the attack on Miro's wedding, nothing had gone right in Seranthia. Back before the madness of Primate Melovar Aspen, the leader of the Assembly of Templars would have soothed a crowd like this, speaking of virtue and sacrifice. Rogan was no speaker, nor was he a religious man. He thought in terms of supply and strength, logistics and fortification.
He also couldn't send soldiers to battle against civilians. He knew if he sent his men out to subdue the crowd, stones would fly, swords would be drawn, and bloodshed would follow. It was inevitable.
"Could we send out soldiers without swords?"
"I'm not sending my men out there unarmed," the Tingaran said.
"Nor I," said the Alturan.
"Scratch it!" Rogan cursed. He couldn't argue with them though. These officers had the safety of their men in mind.
"What's that rattle?" Amelia asked.
"They're shaking the gates," said the Tingaran.
"By the Lord of the Earth's name, Rogan, you have to do something," Amelia said. "You've tried talking to them. Send out your men."
"I can't!" Rogan cried. "I won't have all that blood on my hands."
Amelia stood and walked towards him. "I know," she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's why you're the man I love. We'll just wait and pray."
51
SMOKE poured from four ships lying docked in Emirald's great harbour. Fire blazed from a fifth, and the ocean breeze fanned the flames so that a sixth vessel caught fire of its own accord.
Yet there were thousands of ships. Miro cursed. They weren't moving quickly enough.
Several great warships loaded with the women and children of Emirald had now left, sails raised hurriedly and massive bulks lumbering along under too little wind.
There was no way to tell how the defenders at the walls were faring, but the screams and clashes of weapons could be heard across the harbour. It was now early afternoon. Miro wondered if Emirald could hold longer than a day, when Wengwai had not. Commodore Deniz's words to the defenders must have had their intended effect.
The Veldrin soldiers were no longer fighting a lost cause; they were now fighting to give their loved ones time to escape.
Finally, as the sun began to fall towards the horizon, the powder kegs began to arrive at the harbour.
Miro, Amber, and the sailors helping them destroy the vessels no longer had to work in teams. Now all it took was a barrel of black powder placed at a particular part of the hold. A trail of powder made a clumsy fuse. It was dangerous work, and already they'd lost a man whose keg had detonated early. But the pace picked up, and as the heat of the burning ships intensified, the fire began to do the work on its own. The ships were crowded so close together that they began to leave those close to the flames alone.