Alex rolled his eyes, but didn’t even try to object.
They left at first light, but instead of heading directly for the road west, Banneth led them south, to a mountain of stone on the horizon. Outside an entrance carved into the rock, a wagon was being loaded with clay pots sealed with wax. Each time a vessel was put down, a man wrapped cloth around it, presumably so they wouldn’t bang against one another while riding. “What’s this?” Sage asked Banneth.
“Come, I will show you,” he said, dismounting. “Bring Ah’lecks and his top men.”
Sage signaled to them, and they gathered around a pot that had cracked and been set aside. Banneth picked it up carefully and gestured for everyone to stand back, then dropped it on the ground so it broke open. Among the shattered pottery was globs of what looked like apple jelly. The king poured a little water in his hand and sprinkled it over the mess. When the drops touched the jelly it sizzled and flamed for a few seconds.
“It is an ancient weapon most Casmuni do not even remember we ever possessed,” said Banneth as Sage translated. “Water is what makes the flame. You must never touch it. Even the sweat on your skin is enough to set it off.” The king took another step away from the pot and jelly and squeezed a stream of water on it. Flames leapt up, making everyone jump back. As they watched, the heat of the fire melted the sand and stone around it into black glass.
“We call it dremvasha,” said Banneth.
Waterfire.
“Is it made with oil?” Sage asked, and Banneth nodded. “So if you put this on water, it will float and spread?”
“Yes.” Banneth slung his waterskin back over his shoulder. “It was done once before, many years ago. The devastation lasts to this day.”
Sage watched the liquid jelly slide down the glass until it reached more sand, which it melted in a lengthening trail. Corporal Wilder had described the desolate canyon on the border with Casmun as steep and smooth with sides like jagged broken glass. Deadly. This was what had done that. “Yanli Gorge,” she whispered, and Banneth nodded.
Alex looked at her questioningly, and she explained to him and the others. He shook his head in awe. “Sage, the oldest maps labeled Yanli as a plain. That gorge wasn’t just melted, the entire thing had to have been formed by this. All forty miles.”
As they mounted their horses and moved on with the loaded wagons, Sage looked back to see the flames were still burning.
102
THE CASMUNI AND Demorans arrived at the pass five days later to find the fortress built into the cliff abandoned. For now, Alex and Banneth were less concerned about where those men had gone than with setting up their defense. The king led the way through the gap in the rock wall, which was only wide enough for five mounted men to stand across. A few dozen yards beyond that, however, the passage suddenly widened into a bowl-shaped area large enough to hold about a thousand men before narrowing again.
Alex studied the curved edges of the bowl. The almost-perfect circle didn’t look natural. At his question, the king replied that it had been deliberately mined as a quarry centuries ago to form the shape. The idea was to create a place for the first line of defense. If that failed, the invaders still had to go through the Neck, as the outer narrow gap was called, where the Casmuni would have a second chance to defeat them with the land.
“But that means the men fighting in here can be trapped, unable to retreat,” said Alex.
Banneth nodded. “That is the trade we made for two places to stop the enemy—one place that may also stop us. But the loss would not be great. Only a few hundred.”
It was a good space to fight with the number they’d brought, but there was no one outside the pass to back them up. “Do you think we made it in time?” Alex asked. His biggest fear had been arriving only to see the tail end of the Kimisar army, headed north.
Banneth gestured to a spot on the ground where the sand had a flowing look. “The river here has only recently dried up. If they had passed through in the last week, we would see it there.”
Next to them, Colonel Traysden nodded his agreement. He’d come along with his own unit, which was small for his rank, but he made no move to interfere with how Alex commanded the Norsari. “Where do we use the waterfire?” Traysden asked.
The king led them out of the bowl and deeper into the pass, where it was wide enough for ten armed men to walk abreast. After about a quarter of a mile the pass had several snakelike bends. He stopped and pointed up to the rock ledges partway up the almost-sheer sides of the canyon. “Here, I think. If we can drop enough fire on their heads while they are backed up trying to enter the bowl, perhaps they will retreat.”
Alex nodded. Not a bad plan for ten to one odds.
103
SAGE AND CLARE were left to themselves while the soldiers prepared. The number of men seemed pathetically small when Sage considered how many thousands were likely to come through the pass. More Casmuni soldiers would eventually arrive in support, but if the Kimisar came in the next three or four days, the force here was all there was between them and Demora.
Crates were constructed to hold the pots of dremvasha, and they were hauled up and along a ledge that ran the length of the pass about forty feet up. Barrels of water were placed nearby for setting the waterfire ablaze. Scouts ventured deeper into the pass, looking for signs of Kimisar on the march, but between the narrowness and frequent bends, it was difficult to see ahead in most places. Depending on how fast the messengers could run, there would only be a few hours’ warning.
Alex was almost healed from his time in the dungeon, which was a relief, as he would’ve fought no matter his condition. He told Sage and Clare that when the time came, their place was at the high watchtower of the fortress, and Sage fully intended to obey that—when the time came.
Their second day passed slower than any she could remember. Every noise made them jump, and her hand ached from constantly gripping the hilt of her sword. The men, too, were irritable and snapped and argued over the most minor of slights. Lieutenant Casseck had to break up two men before they came to blows. When night fell, she sat under the stars with Alex in the bowl, ready to fall asleep on his shoulder from being so tense all day. “Is it always like this?” she asked. “Before a battle?”
“Pretty much,” he said. “It’s why some men charge in to a fight when they’re at a disadvantage. They’re too impatient to wait for the better moment.”
“Thinking before I act isn’t my strength,” said Sage. “I don’t think I’d make a very good soldier.”
Alex nuzzled her hair with his nose. “Love, you are one of the bravest, fiercest people I know.” He kissed her head. “And that is truth.”
There were few higher compliments he could offer. Sage wasn’t sure she had the kind of bravery needed on the battlefield, though.
Alex suddenly leapt to his feet, nearly knocking her over. Shouting echoed out of the pass, and all around them soldiers were standing up, including Lieutenant Gramwell, who’d been sitting with Clare not far away. Alex helped her up, and she resisted the urge to hold on to his arm in case he needed to draw his sword. Two men came flying out of the gate of stone. One dropped to his knees, panting, and the other bent over and vomited from running so hard.
“They’re coming,” the man on the ground gasped. “They’ll be here by sunrise.”
Everyone was moving in a matter of seconds. Alex swept Sage close with an arm around her waist and kissed her. “This is it,” he said. “Go to the fortress. Watch everything. If we fail, you and Clare have to get back to Osthiza and tell everyone what happened.”
“You mean just leave you here?” Sage cried.