Return of the Crimson Guard

* * *

 

Ullen picked up a fallen soldier's helmet only to find it heavy with gore. He dropped the wet thing. Four of Cowl's Avowed assassins. The reserves in turmoil. Some sort of flesh-bursting Warren magics only stopped by an end of bodies to feed it. He caught the eye of the healer treating High Fist Anand, bloodied and prone on a cloak, cocked a question.

 

The healer rose to put her face to his ear. ‘He may live.’

 

Ullen turned to the pale, shaken staff officers, Imperial and Talian. ‘Reorder the brigades.’ Relieved jerked nods all around. ‘The rest of you, follow me. From now on we'll keep moving.’

 

Salutes. ‘Aye, Commander.’

 

He headed south to the best vantage of the field he could find. Ahead, smoke draped the entire slope where fires rose raging only to suddenly whip out as if by invisible tornadoes. The heaving mass of irregulars still fired their withering flights of bolts into the hunched lines of Crimson Guard soldiery. So far the thrumming and singing of the crossbows was the main noise of battle. Behind the lines, the Blades waited, veterans and Avowed all. On the west, Urko's command of Talian heavies had broken through and now faced a number of coalesced Blades. Good luck, old friend. The tall standard of the Sword was still pressing in the centre, now facing the thickest of the lines. Ullen had to admire the man's bravery and martial spirit, even if it was accompanied by a rather appalling lack of imagination. He waved forward a messenger. ‘Ride to V'thell. Give him my compliments and have him break that east phalanx at all costs, then head west to the road to cut the main Guard elements from the bridge.’

 

‘Aye, sir.’

 

A staff lieutenant cleared his throat. Ullen turned, a brow raised.

 

It was an Imperial officer. ‘With all respect. That is not Korbolo and Anand's battle plan.’

 

‘No, it is not. But I served under Choss who has faced the Guard before and his lesson is not to treat them as an army but as individuals. Separate the Blades, isolate them, bring superior numbers to bear and bury them.’

 

The Imperial staff command officers stirred uneasily. ‘Again, with all due respect, Lieutenant-commander. We defeated you.’

 

Ullen merely blinked, puzzled. ‘We were not the Guard.’

 

Another staff officer, a young Dal Hon woman, spoke. ‘Should we not check with the Empress? What if she is not safe?’

 

Ullen returned his gaze to the field. ‘That is not my concern. My job is to win this engagement if at all possible.’ And he headed off again – he'd been standing in one place long enough. The assembled staff and messengers of command could choose to follow or not.

 

He climbed up on to the south road, a high point, its bed raised by Imperial engineers. The deep amber slanting light of late afternoon now gathered over the broad slope. Cries snapped his attention to the centre field where a swirling in the light revealed a Warren opening. Darkness blossomed and out came something night-black and angular, winged. A demon. And not one of ours. The staff officers shouted their alarm. Ullen turned on them, ‘Have the skirmishers concentrate their fire on that thing!’

 

The Dal Hon woman saluted, ‘Aye’, ran for the nearest mount.

 

Good. A lesson from Choss: even if you know it's not enough – do something! And where was their damned mage cadre? Done in by the Veils already?

 

While the entire field of gathered men and women watched, the thing swooped over Urko's heavies and stooped, slashing left and right. It then rose, carrying a victim that it dismembered in full view of all, limbs spinning, fluids splashing. Ullen swore that his complete command flinched at the spectacle. Damn it to Hood! They had to show everyone they possessed the firepower to counter that thing! That display alone was enough to break morale,

 

Wings beating heavily, the demon swung next to the east where V'thell's Gold were mauling the Guard phalanx. Sharpers burst beneath it among the ranks indiscriminately, revealing missed throws of munitions. Where was their blasted mage cadre! As the creature passed over a hillock something struck it and a flash of actinic light made Ullen wince and glance away. A grating shriek such as cracking stone echoed over the slope. When he looked back the thing was flailing, white flames engulfing it, pieces dropping away in fluid globules. It began to sink, limbs spasming as its outline changed, thinning, drooping. It struck the ground, bowled over irregulars and crashed into a shieldwall of Malazan regulars who hacked at its twitching flesh. A great cheer went up among the Imperial forces. Everyone on both sides had paused in horror and fascination to watch the spectacle. Gods, a melter. What an awful way to go. He marked that hillock, bare but ringed by a dark line, a trench. Something odd about the crest struck him. The grasses bowed, fluttering as if in a constant hard wind – fanning! Bala.

 

‘Name a strong reserve unit,’ he called out.

 

‘We have a detachment of Gold,’ someone answered from the mix of Ullen's own personal guard and the command staff surrounding him.

 

‘Send it to defend that hillock on the east flank. Someone's established a redoubt there on the field.’

 

‘A redoubt, sir? Isn't our goal to advance?’

 

‘Push back the Avowed? Hardly. But we can break them up. Penetrate their lines. As to the redoubt,’ Ullen lifted his chin to the west, ‘night is coming.’

 

His thoughts obviously returning to the horrors of last night, the officer paled and bowed. ‘Aye, sir.’

 

A disgraced ex-High Mage and a saboteur squad dug in. A strong position. Should V'thell succeed they might be able to lever the Guard from the road. ‘What news from the bridge? What of the Kan forces?’

 

A pause as staffers discussed things among themselves. ‘Latest intelligence is that they've yet to commit,’ the Imperial lieutenant said.

 

Ullen stopped pacing the set cobbles of the road. ‘What?’

 

Confusion, exchanged panicked glances. ‘Sorry, sir—’

 

‘You are all agreed on this?’

 

Nods all around. Damn the tightfisted calculating bastards! ‘Send messages across the river. By arrow, if you must. The Empress demands they initiate an attack on that bridge! Further – any continued delay will be considered rebellion and we will march on Kan next!’

 

‘Sir!’ someone objected, shocked. ‘Ah, that is, do we have the authority …’

 

Ullen pointed to the south. ‘We could lose any and all Hood-damned authority we may have thought we had. Now go!’

 

‘Aye.’ A man ran for the mounts.

 

Movement on the road caught his eye. A pink mist had appeared, swelling, rolling towards them like a cloud. It engulfed screaming soldiers who disappeared before his eyes, their flesh, armour, even bone, flensed into a suspended mist that was heading straight for them. Soldiers jumped aside. Too long in the same spot, fool! ‘Magery!’ Ullen leapt from the road.

 

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