Lerial hates to be forced into a withdrawal, but his men are badly outnumbered, and so is he. And it’s not even your land you’re defending. But that thought bothers him, because, in a way, defending Afrit is defending Cigoerne. From what he has just experienced, for Cigoerne to face Heldya alone would be insane.
As they ride south along the shore road toward Swartheld, Lerial keeps looking back, but there is no pursuit. He has to squint to do even that, given the headache he has and the flashes of light across his eyes. Just from that short skirmish? Except, he realizes, he’s never had to deal with that many strong mages before. Nor has he tried to merge and return such powerful chaos-bolts so quickly … and then undertake even a limited line of order-chaos separation … and having to separate order and chaos from dirt is far harder than with wood or other materials. Except for iron!
By the time they have covered another two kays, enough of the mist has dispersed that Lerial can make out, if vaguely, that there are at least three deep-sea vessels, and possibly more, tied up at the long pier. Even if there are five or six, they can’t have unloaded all those troopers in just one trip.
Ahead of them, Lerial hears a sound, a booming echo, and he looks toward the point, where thick gray and black smoke rises from the far side, billowing skyward. “Jhacub, where is that from?”
“That … that looks to be near the Harbor Post…” stammers the Afritan squad leader.
Now that he thinks of it, Lerial realizes, it couldn’t be anything else. He massages his aching forehead, wondering what could have caused such an explosion and fire … and how extensive the damage and loss of life might be.
When he reaches the highest point on the road across the point, he again looks back, but sees no sign of pursuit. What he does see are more merchanters sailing toward the tileworks pier from the northwest. Frig! Then he looks to the southeast where he can finally see the upper levels of the Harbor Post. From what he can tell, only one section of the post has been damaged, but that part, perhaps a fifth of the entire structure, is little more than a heap of rubble.
“Jhacub! What part of the post was destroyed? What was there?”
“Those were the barracks, ser … and the mess hall and kitchen. Might have gotten part of the headquarters building. It’s hard to tell from here.”
If someone wanted to blow up the mess hall, why did it happen so late, after all the rankers had eaten? Destroying the barracks makes sense, because, although it is a working day, with six battalions there, there will be significant casualties. But why not at night, when everyone would be there?
“We’ll ride straight to the Afritan Guard headquarters,” Lerial declares. Harsh as that likely sounds to Jhacub, there is little his single company can do that those surviving cannot do as well … and he needs to find Rhamuel and let him know of the scope of the invasion from the north, although he doubts that is the only point of attack. They also need to work out what sort of defenses and strategy are possible and practical with what is left of the Afritan Guard.
When they pass the road leading to the Harbor Post, Lerial sees rankers leading some mounts outside the gates, and a large wagon team entering the post’s gates. He turns to Jhacub. “Send one of your men to inform whoever the senior officer is about the Heldyan forces to the north.”
“Yes, ser.”
Lerial watches as the Afritan Guard gallops toward the damaged post, then turns his attention to the merchanting section they are approaching. Not surprisingly, several of the large merchanting buildings are already shuttered and closed, and workers at the others are in the process of doing the same. There are only a few people on the streets, and most of them are moving swiftly.
Even before Lerial reaches the entry to the headquarters building, Dhallyn, the captain who had met them when they had first arrived in Swartheld, is hurrying out. “Lord Lerial! There have been two explosions here in Swartheld! Do you know what they are?”
Two? “I only know of one. Part of the Harbor Post is damaged, maybe a third of it. We didn’t stop to investigate, not with at least four battalions of Heldyans some five or six kays north of the point. Where’s the arms-commander?” Lerial glances past Dhallyn to see Strauxyn and Fheldar moving toward him at close to a run.
“He’d already left for the palace when we got word from you. The duke needed him immediately.”
“Was that before or after you got my message about the Heldyans?”
“After, ser. I already sent a guard to the palace to inform the arms-commander.”
“Good.” Lerial pauses, then asks, “Does anyone know why the duke wanted the arms-commander?”
“No. The message was brought by a palace courier,” replies Dhallyn. “That was all the messenger said.”
“Not by an Afritan Guard? Is that usual.”
Dhallyn looks puzzled. “Of course. Well … maybe half the time. Both bring the arms-commander messages.”
“Did the arms-commander say anything?”