The night fell, dark and thick beneath the ritualists' shroud of storm clouds. The night made the Canim battle cries even more terrifying, and Tavi could feel the primal, inescapable dread of fangs and hungry mouths rising in the back of his thoughts. No furylamps lit the walls as he ran to his position above the gate, and the orange band of a fading sunset was the only light. He couldn't see the men on the wall well enough to make out expressions, but as he walked past them he could hear restless movement among them-and noted that they were uniformly far more slender than most of the more mature ranks of veterans. The First Spear had kept the cohort of fish on the wall.
"Marcus?" Tavi asked as he reached the center wall.
"Sir," growled a dark form near him.
"Everything set?"
"Yes, sir," the First Spear said. "We're ready."
"Men know the signal?"
"Yes. Sir," Marcus growled, tone tight. "That's what I mean when I say we're ready, sir."
Tavi started to snap a reply but held his tongue. He stood on the wall in silence as the light continued to fade. Drums rattled outside. Horns blared. Night fell, blackness only broken by flashes of scarlet lightning.
Then there was a sudden silence.
"Here they come," Tavi breathed.
Howls rose into the air, louder and louder. The ground began to shake.
"Stand by furylamps," Tavi barked. The order was repeated by spear leaders up and down the wall. A flash of lightning showed Tavi a mass of black-armored Canim closing on the gates, and he called, "Furylamps now!"
A dozen large furylamps, suspended by chains to be hung five feet down the outside of the walls, flared into light. They cast a cold blue light out over the ground before the walls, illuminating the ground for the Aleran defenders while glaring into the eyes of the attacking Canim.
"Engage!" Tavi cried, and legionares snapped into two-man teams, shield-man and archer. Arrows darted down into the heavily armored Canim warriors, but this time, many of the warriors carried heavy shields of scarlet steel, and arrows struck with small effect. The deadly, heavy javelins came next, striking legionares standing between the merlons. One archer took an instant too long to aim, and a spear struck him, its tip exploding from his back, while the force of the impact threw him from the battlements entirely to land on the stones of the courtyard. Another legionare had not properly secured his shield to his arm, and when a spear struck it, the top edge of the shield spun back, striking him in the face and wrenching his arm from its socket in a burst of crackling pops.
"There," Tavi said, pointing at a tight group of Canim approaching in two rows. "Their first ram. Ready pitch."
"Ready pitch!" bellowed Marcus.
The ram closed on the gate and slammed against it once. Then the men over the gate dumped pitch down upon the attackers-but something went wrong, for no howls of pain came up. Tavi risked a deadly second leaning out over the battlements to peer down. A long section of wood, no thicker than Tavi's leg, lay smoldering beneath the splashed pitch, but it was far too light to have been an actual ram. The Canim must have abandoned it after a single strike against the gates for the sake of showmanship.
It had been a decoy, Tavi realized.
A second group surged forward, several Canim beneath some kind of portable canopy constructed from overlapping shields, and made for the gates. Tavi clenched his teeth. Even if they'd had more pitch ready, it might have been useless against the ram's canopy.
Excellent.
The ram slammed into the gates, hard enough to rattle the battlements beneath Tavi's boots. Again, in half the time it would have taken a team of Alerans wielding a ram to swing again. Boom, boom, boom, then, with the next strike, there was a single, sharp crack as one of the timbers of the gate gave way.
"That's it!" Tavi called. "Courtyard!"
The legionares waiting in the courtyard turned and double-timed away from the gates, toward the bridge, following a single row of widely spaced furylamps. As they did, more hooks flew up over the wall, attached to steel chains, and as the gate began to give way, more armored warriors gained the walls beneath the cover of hurtling spears.
"They're through!" Marcus snapped.
Outside, Canim horns began blaring a charge, and many of the black-armored warriors parted to allow the raiders an unobstructed charge at the gates. Thousands of the inhuman raiders surged forward in a massive wave of fangs and muscle.
"Fall back! Frying pan!" Tavi bellowed. "Fall back! Frying pan!"
The gate gave way, and the Canim let out a roar. Tavi and the legionares on the wall rushed down in frantic, terrified haste. One young legionare stumbled and fell down several stairs and sprawled on the courtyard. There was a sharp, hissing sound, and he cried out in sudden agony. Two of his fellows seized him and began dragging him between them.
"Go!" Tavi shouted, half-pushing legionares past him and down the stairs, while he swept his gaze through the confusion and darkness to make sure none had been left behind. "Go, go, go!"
"That's all of them!" Marcus shouted.
Together, the pair of them hurried down to the courtyard and sprinted across it. Tavi could feel uncomfortable heat through the soles of his hobnailed boots after half a dozen strides. He could hear the gate fall behind him, and the Canim howled in triumph.
Marcus let out a cry beside him, and Tavi saw the First Spear fall. A Canim javelin had struck his lower leg, sinking into his calf just below the bend of his knee.
Marcus managed to fall on his shield, preventing his flesh from striking the stones and sizzling like a slab of bacon, like the poor legionare who had fallen a few seconds before. He tried to wrench the javelin from his leg, but the tip must have struck bone. He couldn't pull it fre$.
Tavi slid to a stop and went back for the First Spear. A javelin struck sparks from the stones a few feet away. Tavi grabbed Marcus's arm and hauled him almost entirely off his feet. The First Spear let out a cry of pain between his clenched teeth, and hobbled along as quickly as he could, until in desperation, Tavi lifted him clear onto one of his shoulders and ran.
Then he reached the edge of the courtyard, and he saw the shapes of Knights Aeris crouched on rooftops. A sudden wind began sweeping down, blowing in a gale at the gates, foiling the accuracy of any further missiles. Tavi looked over his shoulder, to see raiders plunging through the gates the warriors had opened, breaking into sudden howls of agony as their bare feet struck the heated stones of the courtyard. They could no more have turned back against the tide of their own assault than they could have swum up a waterfall. Thousands of their frenzied fellows poured through the breached gates, and their screams split the air.
Canim desperately tried to find escape from the heated stones, leaping up onto houses, shops, and other buildings around the courtyard. Still, more poured through, and in seconds there were no more such places to go. Canim fell, succumbing to agony, only to have it doubled and redoubled as their flesh fell fully onto the courtyard stone. The gale winds blew into Canim eyes, ears, and noses, and the confusion changed the assault into a madhouse of the dead and dying.
And still more Canim poured in, the raiders now maddened and howling, thirsting for blood, walking on the burned and burning bodies of their dead and dying fellows to find respite from the sizzling stone of the courtyard. They oriented on the bridge, and Tavi saw them begin charging toward it. He put his head down and ran, flanked by Knights Aeris, who moved from roof to roof and kept the nearest Canim blind to Tavi and the stragglers from the walls.
It seemed to take forever to run the few hundred yards to the Elinarch-and to the defenses the engineers had constructed upon it. Using clay from the riverbed, they had constructed a series of five walls spaced evenly over the bridge, earthcrafted into shape, and then blasted with firecrafting until the clay had baked into a consistency almost as tough and hard as stone, leaving an opening scarcely wide enough for two men. At the southern end of the bridge was another such barrier, this one fully as large as the city's walls themselves.
Tavi and the covering Knights Aeris rushed through the newly created defenses while the Canim, goaded to fury by the heated stones, rushed forward.
"Medico!" Tavi shouted. Foss appeared, and Tavi all but dumped the First Spear into the healer's arms. Then he ran for the wall and pounded up the crude steps built into it to the improvised battlements there. Max and Crassus, together with the First Aleran's cohort prime, waited, already in position with the other Knights Aeris spread along the wall. The last of the Knights Aeris followed Tavi up to the walls.
Max and Crassus both looked exhausted, and Tavi knew that the firecraft-ing they'd used to heat the stones had been intensely fatiguing. But if they looked bad, the skinny young redheaded Knight Ignus beside them looked nine-tenths dead. He sat with his back against the battlements, his eyes focused elsewhere, shivering in the cool of the evening. Ehren appeared out of the night's shadows, still bearing the Legion's standard. Tavi nodded at him, and Ehren planted the blackened eagle standard in a socket in the adobe battlements the engineers had prepared for it.
Enough furylamps remained in the town to let Tavi see the raiders charging through the town, bounding over rooftops with inhuman grace, and their eyes gleamed red in the near darkness. Their cries and howls grew louder and louder.
Tavi watched them impassively, until the nearest one he could see was no more than fifty yards from the bridge. "Ready," he said quietly, to Max.
Max nodded, and put a hand on Jens's shoulder.
Tavi tried to count the oncoming Canim, but the shifting light-now only furylamps, now dancing red lightning strobes-made it impossible. More than a thousand of them, maybe even two or three times that many. He waited a few instants more, to give the Canim as much time as possible to pour more troops into the city.
"All right," he said quietly. "Frying pan's done. Time for fire."
"Bring up the wind!" Crassus commanded, and he and his Knights Aeris faced the oncoming foe and brought up a strong, steady wind.
"Jens," Max said to the young Knight. "You can let it go."
Jens let out a gasp and sagged like a man suddenly rendered unconscious by a blow to the neck.
And the entire southern half of the town became a sudden and enormous bonfire. Tavi could see, in his mind's eye, the boxes and barrels that had been filled with fine sawdust, intentionally manufactured by volunteers through the town and the followers camp for the past several days, and stored in whatever containers they could find-then scattered still more sawdust liberally throughout each building. In each container was a furylamp, put in place by Jens, each tiny fire fury leashed to his will, restrained from flickering to life within the fine, volatile sawdust.
When Jens released them, hundreds of tiny furies had suddenly been free to run amok, and the barrels and barrels of sawdust all but exploded into flame. The dust-strewn buildings went up like torches, and the strong winds commanded by Crassus's Knights both fed the fires more air, making them hotter and hotter, and blew them back toward the onrushing enemy.
Tavi watched as Canim died, horribly, consumed by the flames, trapped within the city's stone walls. Some of them might have survived, he supposed. But even with the wind keeping the conflagration away from the bridge, the heat of it was uncomfortable on Tavi's face. The fire made an enormous roaring sound, drowning out the occasional thunder of the lightning overhead, the cries of the dying Canim, and the cheers of the Alerans watching their terrifying foes fall.
Tavi let it go on for five or ten minutes. Then he signaled Crassus with a wave of one hand, and the Knight Tribune and his Knights Aeris sagged in relief, ceasing their efforts. There was a long silence on the walls, broken only by the low roar of flames, and the occasional shriek of tortured wood as burning buildings fell in upon themselves.
Tavi closed his eyes. He could, quite faintly, make out another sound beneath the fire-the long, mournful, angry howls of grieving Canim.
"At ease, people," Tavi said to no one in particular. "Maximus, Crassus, get yourselves and your people some food and some rest. It will be a couple of hours before those fires die down enough to let them through. But when they come, they're going to be angry."
Crassus frowned at Tavi, and his voice sounded heavy. "You don't think this will convince them to go somewhere else?"
"We cost them plenty," Tavi said. "But not from their best. They can afford it."
Crassus frowned and nodded. "What's next, then?"
"Next, you get some food and rest. We've still got a bridge to defend. Send something up for the prime cohort, too."
"Yes, sir," Crassus said. He saluted, then began giving orders to his men, and they descended from the wall. Moments later, several fish arrived carrying pots of spiced tea and fresh bread, and at a nod from Tavi, the veterans on the walls went to collect food and drink. Tavi took advantage of the moment to walk down to the far end of the wall. He slipped up onto the wall itself, hung his feet over the side, and sat with his head leaning against a merlon.
Tavi heard Max's footsteps approach.
"You all right?" Max asked.
"Go get some food," Tavi said.
"Balls. Talk to me."
Tavi was quiet for a second, then said, "Can't. Not yet. "
"Calderon..."
Tavi shook his head. "Let it be, Max. We still have work to do."
Maximus grunted. "When we re done, we'll go get drunk. Talk then."
Tavi made an effort to smile. "Only if you're buying. I know how much you can drink. Max."
His friend snorted, then made his way from the wall, leaving Tavi alone with this thoughts.
Tavi's stratagem had lured maybe half a Legion of Canim to their deaths in the inferno, but the burning buildings lit up the countryside beyond the walls and the enormous numbers of Canim moving toward the river. He couldn't tell, at a glance, that the enemy had taken any losses at all.
The cold, leaden reality of mathematics pressed relentlessly into his thoughts. He'd known that the Canim army outnumbered the Alerans, but numbers mentioned on paper, on a tactical map, or in a planning session were entirely different than numbers applied to a real, physical, murderous enemy you could see marching toward you. Looking out at thousands of Canim, all in view and moving for the first time, Tavi gained an entirely new perspective on the magnitude of the task they faced.
It made him feel bitterly, poisonously weary.
At least he'd gained a few hours of respite for the men. For whatever it was worth. Except for those who had already died, of course. They now had all the time in the world to rest.
He sat for a moment, watching half of the town he was defending burn. He wondered how many homes and businesses he'd just destroyed. How many hard-earned generations of wealth and knowledge he'd sacrificed. How many irreplaceable family heirlooms and artifacts he'd burned to ashes.
He wasn't sure precisely when he fell asleep, but something cold on his face woke him. He jerked his head upright, wincing as he found his neck had stiffened as he leaned it against the adobe merlon, and muscles tied themselves into knots. He rubbed at his neck with one hand, blinked his eyes a few times, and heard a little plinking sound. Then again. Cold water struck one cheek.
Raindrops.
Tavi looked up at the sullen clouds, and more rain began to fall-first lightly, but it rapidly built up to a torrent, a storm that brought the pent-up rain from the clouds in sheets so thick that Tavi had to spit water from his mouth every few breaths. His heart lurched in panic, and he hurried to rise to his feet.
"To arms!" he bellowed. "All cohorts to their positions!"
The sheeting rain hammered down onto the burning town and began strangling the flames. Clouds of steam and smoke billowed up, and, together with the rain, they hid the view of the enemy entirely.
Once more, the Canim horns began to blare.
Shouts sounded through the downpour, muffled by the rain. Boots thudded on stone. Tavi ground his teeth and slammed his fist against the merlon. The veterans on the wall snapped into motion, strapping on shields, stringing bows that would be rendered largely ineffective by the rain. As the fires died, the forms of the men on the wall grew murky.
"Lights!" Tavi shouted down at the men on the bridge below. "Get some lights up here, quick!"
One of the legionares on the wall shouted, and Tavi spun to see black-armored forms, almost invisible against the darkness, rushing forward with incredible speed. Tavi turned to order more men into the makeshift "gate" in the wall, a simple arch barely wide enough for two men to walk through upright-and a tiny fit indeed for a Cane. As he did, he bumped into a veteran hurrying into position with his bow, and both men slipped on the water-slicked adobe battlements.
Otherwise, they would have died with the others.
Even as legionares moved to battle positions, there was a humming sound and then a series of miniature thunderclaps. A spray of blood erupted from a veteran three feet from Tavi, and the man dropped without a sound. Down the wall, the same happened to others. Something slammed through a shield and killed the veteran behind it. One of the archers jerked, then collapsed. Another's head snapped back so sharply that Tavi clearly heard his neck break. The corpse fell near him, head lolling to one side, eyes open and unblinking. A vaned metal shaft as thick as the circle of Tavi's thumb and forefinger protruded from the helmet. As Tavi stared, a thin trickle of blood slithered down over one of the legionares sightless eyes, and was almost instantly thinned and washed away by the rain.
Seconds later, Tavi heard that humming, thrumming sound again, and there were screams from the bridge below. Then a horrible bellowing roar, and Nasaug burst through the tiny opening with terrifying ease and agility, curved war sword in his hand. The Cane Battlemaster killed three legionares before any of them had time to react, the massive sword shattering bone even through steel armor, and slicing through exposed flesh with terrible efficiency. He parried another legionares thrusting sword, seized the rim of the man's shield with one paw, and with a simple, clean motion threw the man twenty feet through the air, over the side of the bridge, to fall screaming to the river below.
Nasaug batted another pair of legionares aside, then shattered the fury-lamps being brought up to the wall with several swift kicks, plunging the entire area into darkness. By the increasingly frequent bursts of red lightning, Tavi saw more Canim enter behind Nasaug, their long, lean bodies almost seeming to fold in upon themselves as they came through the opening.
The veteran beside Tavi rose and lifted his bow to aim at Nasaug.
"No!" Tavi shouted. "Stay down!"
A buzzing thrum sounded, and another steel bolt ripped through the le-gionare's lower back, straight through his armor, until an inch of the bolt's tip showed through the veteran's breastplate. The man gasped and fell-and a second later screamed in pure, feeble terror as the savage snarling of Canim rose from the darkness. Legionares fought warriors in the nightmarish murk, broken by flashes of bloody light. Men and Canim screamed in rage, defiance, terror, and pain.
Tavi lay frozen. If he rose, whatever marksmen were releasing those deadly steel bolts would kill him-but the Cane assault had come so swiftly and terribly that Tavi was already cut off from the legionares below. If he descended to the bridge, he'd be facing the Canim alone, with nothing but his gladius.
Tavi didn't remember drawing his sword, but his fingers ached from how hard he squeezed the hilt as he desperately tried to think of a way out.
And then the shadowy shape of a black-armored Cane, its eyes reflecting bits of red light in the dimness, started up the steps to the wall. Tavi knew it would spot him in mere seconds.
He had just run out of time.
Tavi had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and if he did nothing he would simply be killed.
So as the Cane mounted the stairs, Tavi let out a howl of terror and rage and threw himself bodily into the armored body of the Cane with every ounce of strength and reckless violence he could summon.
He hit the Cane hard and high on its chest. Though the Cane was far larger, Tavi's armored weight and momentum were more than enough to overcome the surprised Cane, and then Tavi drove the Cane back and down the stairs to crash heavily to the stone surface of the bridge. Before the Cane could recover, Tavi slammed his helmet repeatedly into the creature's sensitive nose and muzzle, then raised his sword, gripping the hilt with one hand and halfway up the blade with the other, and rammed it with all his strength down into the Cane's throat.
Either he missed anything vital or the Cane was simply too tough to know when it should die. It seized Tavi with one desperate arm and flung him away. Tavi slammed against the raised side of the bridge, but his armor took the brunt of the impact, and he came back to his feet as the wounded Cane rose, teeth bared in a horrible snarl.
"Captain!" shouted a voice, and fire blossomed in the night, a sudden sheet of it rising from the stone between Tavi and the wounded Cane. In the light, Tavi just had time to make out the features of his opponent-the grizzled Cane who had brought Tavi the very sword he had just employed-and then Knights Aeris descended around him.
They landed roughly, and before they hit the ground, Nasaug turned and flung one of the steel bars Tavi had examined the previous day. It struck one of the young Knights in a knee with crippling force, throwing his leg out from beneath him so that he fell to the ground.
Crassus landed beside Tavi, and with a grunt of effort flung a streamer of flame at the nearest Cane. It licked out weakly in the heavy rain, but sufficed to force the Cane to pause, and that was enough. Knights Aeris seized Tavi's arms, and under Crassus's direction, they rose from the bridge into the night sky. A flash of lightning showed Nasaug, throwing another bar at Crassus, but the young Knight Tribune flicked it deftly aside with his blade, before leading the Knights Aeris up and out of range of hurled weapons.
But not out of range of those deadly steel quarrels.
More thrums sounded from below, and one of the Knights Aeris holding Tavi grunted and fell from the sky, vanishing into the dark below. The single Knight remaining almost dropped him, and everything spun around wildly. Then Crassus was there, taking the place of the fallen Knight, and the weary band of fliers descended to the second defensive position, a hundred yards from the south end of the bridge.
The next few hours came as one enormous blur of darkness, cold, and desperation. Two entire cohorts had been all but annihilated in the first, stunning assault. The prime cohort had been slain to a man, cut to shreds by the steel quarrels and overwhelmed by the Canim warriors led by Nasaug. Ninth cohort had tried to rush forward in the confusion and stem the breakthrough at the end of the bridge, only to be cut down in the near-total darkness by Nasaug's troops. Most of a single century had managed to fall back to the next defensive position, but eight in ten of the cohort perished on the bridge. Even the wounded who made it back to the suddenly overwhelmed healers found little help. There were simply not enough hands, and men who would have survived the wounds in other circumstances died waiting their turns.
Nearly six hundred Alerans fell.
It had taken all of seven or eight minutes.
Tavi remembered shouting orders, frantic questions and answers from the First Spear. There was never enough light. The Canim destroyed every lamp they or their marksmen could reach-and furylamps were in short enough supply already, thanks to the trap Tavi had laid on the south side of the village. Twice more, Tavi found himself facing hulking Canim warriors in almost-total darkness, and fought simply to retreat and survive.
The Canim overran the next two defensive positions on the bridge, and it became a race to see who could reach the center arch of the bridge first-the Canim or the Aleran engineers who made a desperate attempt to collapse the bridge.
In the darkness and confusion, the Canim won the race. Tavi watched with helpless frustration and terror as Nasaug himself vaulted over the much lower fortifications at the apex of the bridge, slew half a dozen Alerans attempting to defend the wall, and began cutting down fleeing legionares.
Tavi knew that if the Canim were not stopped at that point, they would use the "downhill" momentum on the far side of the bridge to simply smash through the remaining defensive lines and into the town at the north end of the bridge-and into the civilians huddled there for protection.
Somehow, he and the First Spear managed to get a solid block of men together in front of the last wall upon the bridge itself, while Crassus's exhausted Knights Aeris lined the low city wall behind them. Tavi had furniture taken from the town behind them piled into two massive mounds, doused them in liquor, and had Max set them aflame to provide light for the legionares-and to keep it burning with firecrafting. The Knights sent a gale of wind into the faces of the Canim, both shielding the fires and blinding their enemies in the down-pouring rain, and a roaring charge led by the First Spear hammered into the Canim advance. Tavi watched from the wall as legionares and warriors locked in desperate, grinding battle, but in the close confines of the bridge, once the Canim's momentum was checked and the darkness broken by the bonfires, the advantage fell to the tightly coordinated, disciplined-and desperate-legionares. Step by bloody step, they drove the Canim back, until the inhuman foe leapt back over the wall to take up defensive positions of their own.
Tavi ordered the legionares back to the last wall on the bridge, fearing that they would be cut down by Canim marksmen if they remained in the open.
And for the space of an hour, the battle ceased.
Tavi sagged to the ground behind their last wall and sat there for a moment. He stripped off his helmet and tilted his head up to the sky to drink falling rain. The rainfall had been growing slowly if steadily lighter over the past hours. It made the cool evening positively uncomfortable, and spasms of shivering came and went every minute or so.
"Captain?" Ehren said quietly. Tavi hadn't heard him approach. "You all right?"
"Tired, is all," Tavi replied.
"You should get out of the rain. Get some hot food into you."
"No time," Tavi said. "They can see in the dark. We can't. They'll hit us again before dawn. I need Tribune Cymnea to round up every furylamp she can find, any wood that will burn, and every drop of liquor in the whole town. We'll need it to start fires so that the men can see. Valiar Marcus is taking a head count. Ask Foss for the count on deaths and casualties, and relay it to the First Spear."
Ehren frowned, but nodded. "All right. But after that..."
"After that," Tavi said, "take the two fastest horses you can find and get out."
Ehren fell silent.
"It's your duty," Tavi said quietly. "The First Lord needs to know about what the ritualists can do. And about those bolt throwers the Canim are using. And..." He shook his head. "Tell him that we're going to find a way to take down the bridge. Somehow. Convey my apologies that I couldn't keep it intact."
There was another silent moment. Then Ehren said, "I can't just walk away from my friends."
"Don't walk. Run. As fast as you can." Tavi rose and slipped his helmet back on. Then he put a hand on Ehren's shoulder and met his eyes. "If Gaius doesn't at least hear about it, it was all for nothing. Don't let that happen."
Rain plastered the little Cursor's hair to his scalp. Then he bowed his head and nodded. "All right."
Tavi squeezed his shoulder, grateful. At least he'd get one friend out of this mess alive. "Get a move on."
Ehren gave him a weak smile and a sloppy salute, then turned and hurried away.
Max said quietly, from the darkness nearby, "He's right, you know."
Tavi jumped, startled, and glared in the direction of Max's voice. "Crows, Max. You just scared me out of ten years of life."
Max snorted and said, "Sounds to me like you don't think you'll be using it anyway."
"You should get food," Tavi said. "Rest. We'll need your crafting soon."
In answer, Max took a ceramic bowl from beneath his cloak, and passed it to Tavi. It was so warm that he could feel it through his gloves, but as the scent of the thick stew reached his nose, a sudden demand from his belly overruled his caution, and he gulped down the stew, barely pausing to chew the meat. Max had a second bowl, and kept Tavi company.
"All right," Tavi said. "I should probably-"
"Marcus is organizing," Max said. "Said you should eat. Sit down for a minute. So relax."
Tavi began to shake his head and deny him, but his aching body prevented him from doing more than leaning up against the wall.
"This is pretty bad," Tavi said quietly. "Isn't it?"
Max nodded. "Worst I've seen."
From startlingly nearby, there was the frantic snarl of an enraged Cane and the violent thrashing of water. Max had his sword out of his sheath before the sound died away, and his gaze flickered around them. "What the crows..."
Tavi hadn't moved. "It's in the river below us."
Max arched an eyebrow. "Shouldn't it concern us if they're sending troops across."
"Not particularly. It's been happening since nightfall. They haven't made it to this side yet."
Max frowned. "Water furies?"
"You think I'd let the healers waste their time on something like that?" Tavi asked.
"You're too clever for your own good, Calderon," Max growled.
"Sharks," Tavi said.
"What?"
"Sharks. Big fish with big teeth."
Max lifted his eyebrows. "Fish?"
"Mmmm. Attracted to blood in the water. Tribune Cymnea's been collecting from everyone butchering animals in the camp and the down, and dumping the blood into the river. The sharks followed the blood trail up from the sea. Hundreds of them. Now they're hitting everything that goes for a swim." Tavi made a vague gesture at the water. "Old fisherman who works this river told me it even attracted a baby leviathan. Little one, about forty feet long."
Max grunted. "Fish. Sooner or later they're going to get full, and the Cane are going to have an assault team on this side of the river. You should let me send some of my riders out to patrol the shore."
"No need," Tavi said. "Kitai will spot any Cane that gets through."
"Yeah?" Max said. "There's only one of her, Calderon. What can she do that fifty of my men can't?"
"See in the dark," Tavi said.
Max opened his mouth, then shut it again. "Oh."
"Besides, " Tavi said, "if she wasn't there, she'd be here."
Max blew out a breath. "Yeah. Always clever."
"Not always," Tavi said. He could hear the bitterness in his voice. "Nasaug made a fool out of me."
"How?"
"I thought he was delaying his attack just to tweak Sari's nose. That wasn't what he was doing at all. Sari was stupid enough to order a major attack against the walls with an hour of daylight left. Nasaug managed to stall that attack until night fell, when the Canim would have a major advantage. He broke the gates, then he fixed it so their most expendable troops would soak up the losses from the fire trap." Tavi shook his head. "I should have realized what he was doing."
"Even if you had," Max said, "it wouldn't have made any difference."
"And those bolt throwers." Tavi's stomach fluttered as he thought of the men they had slain. "Why did I sit around thinking that they would only have hand-thrown weapons for ranged combat."
"Because that's all they ever have used," Max said. "No one could have seen that coming. This is the first time I've heard of it."
"All the same," Tavi said.
"No," Max said. "Crows take it, Calderon. You've done a sight more than anyone expected you to do. Probably more than you should have been able to do. Stop blaming yourself. You didn't send the Canim here."
In the dark, another Cane's scream came up from the river.
Tavi let out a tired laugh. "You know what bothers me the most?"
"What?"
"When I was at the riverbank, and those Canim were coming for me, and those lions came up. For just a second..." He shook his head. "I thought that maybe it was something I'd done. Maybe they were my furies. Maybe I wasn't..." His throat tightened and closed almost shut.
Max spoke quietly from the darkness. "Father never let me manifest a fury. A creature, you know? Like your uncle's stone hound, or Lady Placida's fire falcon. But he never taught me anything about water, and in the library there was this old book of stories. There was a water lion like that in there. So... I pretty much taught myself all my watercraft. And since he wasn't around, it came out like that lion. Named him Androcles." Tavi couldn't be sure in the dimness, but he thought he might have seen Max blush. "It was kind of lonely for me, when my mother died."
"Crassus must have read the same book," Tavi said.
"Yeah. Funny. Never thought I'd have anything in common with him." He shifted his weight restlessly. "I'm sorry. That it wasn't what you'd hoped."
Tavi shrugged a shoulder. "It's all right, Max. Maybe it's time I stopped dreaming of having my own furies and got on with living. I've wanted them for so long, but... your furies don't make things different, do they."
"Not where it matters," Max said. "Not on the inside. My father always told me that a man's furycraft just makes him more of what he already is. A fool with furies is still a fool. A good man with furies is still a good man."
"Old Killian tried to tell me something like that," Tavi said. "The day of our combat final. The more I think about it, the more I think maybe he was trying to make me understand that there's more to the world than furies. More to life than what I can do with them."
"He was no fool," Max said. "Calderon. I know what you've done. I owe you my life, despite all my furycrafting. You were the one who stood at the end. And that goes double for Gaius. You've killed assassins and monsters all by yourself. You faced down a Canim warlord without arms or furycraft to protect you, and I don't know anyone else who would do that. That trap south of the bridge killed more Canim in an hour than the Legions have in the last ten years. And I still have no idea how you managed to stop their charge-I thought we were finished. And you did all of that without a single fury of your own." Max's fist lightly struck Tavi's armored shoulder. "You're a crowbegotten hero, Calderon. Furies or not. And you're a born captain. The men believe in you.'
Tavi shook his head. "Believe what?"
"Plenty," Max said. "They think you must be hiding some major furycraft to have survived that lightning strike. And not many of them really understood the whole plan with the sawdust and furylamps. They just saw you wave your hand, and the whole southern half of the town went up. You fought your way clear of the attack that killed the whole prime cohort-and some of those veterans were near Knight-level metalcrafters themselves." Another Cane screamed in the river, more distantly. "I guarantee you that right now, rumors are going around that you've got furies in the river killing Canim."
"I didn't do any of that, Max," Tavi said. "They're believing a lie."
"Balls," Max said, his voice serious. "You've done those things, Tavi. Sometimes you had help. Some of them took a whole lot of work. None of it involved furycraft-but you've done them." Max tilted his head toward the town. "They know what's over there. Any sane man would be running for the hills. But instead, they're angry. Their blood is up for a fight. You've been right there beside them in the battle. Struck blows against the Canim running on pure guts, and you've bloodied their slimy noses. The men think you can do it again. They'll follow you, Calderon."
"You've seen that force, Max. You know what's still over there. And we're tired, out of room, and out of tricks."
"Heh," Max said. "That's how belief works. The worse the situation is, the more a man's belief can do to sustain him. You've given them something to believe in."
Tavi felt a little nauseous at the statement. "We have to take down the bridge, Max. We've got to get our engineers out to the top of the arch so that they can collapse it."
"I thought we didn't have enough bodies who could earthcraft," Max said.
"If you will remember," Tavi said, "the Pavilion has a rather large number of employees who are quite practiced at earthcraft."
Max blinked. "But those are dancers, Calderon. Professional, ah, courtesans."
"Who have practiced earthcrafting every day of their professional lives," Tavi said. "I know, stonework isn't the same thing, but you've always told me that any application of one area of furycraft carries over toward different uses of the same gift."
"Well," Max said. "Yes, but..."
Tavi arched an eyebrow. "But?"
"Crafting a room full of legionares into a frenzy is one thing. Altering heavy stonework is another."
"I've had them practicing," Tavi said. "They aren't exactly engineers, but this isn't a complicated crafting. It's a demolition. All the engineers really need to get it done is earthcrafting muscle, and the dancers have got that. If we can get them and our engineers to the top of the bridge, they can take it apart."
"Big if," Max said quietly.
"Yes."