“Forget it!” Clay said, reaching out to grab the strap of her pack. “There’s too many!” he called to Sigoral and Loriabeth as they continued to blaze away. “We gotta go! Now!”
He paused just long enough to ensure they were following then turned and started to run. His earlier caution was forgotten now as he sprinted across near-vanished walkways and leapt over stunted walls. The frenzy song of the Greens seemed to thicken the air at his back, pushing him on and banishing the ache in his leg. A Green scrambled over the edge of the ridge just ahead, tail whipping as it whirled to face him, jaws gaping. Clay kept running, raising his carbine and letting loose with a stream of bullets as he closed with the drake. The concentrated burst of gun-fire tore into the Green’s forelegs and shoulders, vapourising flesh and bone into a red cloud. The beast screamed and writhed, spraying blood from its myriad wounds. Clay fired again as he neared the thrashing drake, a short burst of fire that blew its head to pieces. He vaulted the corpse and ran on.
The end of the ridge came in view after what seemed a few seconds, by which time the exertion was finally starting to overcome his fear-born energy. His momentary elation died at the sight of the deep crevasse between the ridge and the flank of the peak beyond. Too wide to jump for anyone but a Blood-blessed with Green in their veins. He didn’t pause, stumbling onward and dragging his wallet from the inside pocket of his duster. He gulped down as much Green as he could, covering the final few yards to the end of the ridge in a blur and leaping high. He overshot the gap by several yards, thumping into the side of the mountain with enough force to have shattered several bones but for the Green. He slid to the narrow ledge opposite the ridge and rolled quickly to his feet, finding the three of them gaping at him from the other side. The sense of betrayal on Loriabeth’s face was particularly striking, although Sigoral’s grimace of fury displayed little surprise. Kriz spared him only a glance before she turned about and started firing bombs at the onrushing swarm of Greens. They now covered the ridge from end to end in a dark roiling mass that barely seemed to notice the bombs exploding in its midst.
Clay extracted the vial of raw Black and drank down half the contents, fighting the convulsive retch as the product made a fiery progress to his gut. He took Loriabeth first, lifting her over the gap and depositing her close by. The urgency of the moment left little room for finesse and she gave a pained grunt as she landed on her rump. She shot him a reproachful but nevertheless relieved glare before getting to her feet and taking aim at the Greens. He returned his attention to the far side of the gap where both Sigoral and Kriz were firing furiously at the on-coming drakes. Clay hesitated, the Greens were so close now and it was possible he couldn’t save them both. I need answers, he decided, fixing his gaze on Kriz. Sorry, Lieutenant.
At that moment, however, Sigoral’s carbine fired empty. The Corvantine immediately began to reload but it was clear the Greens would be on him before he managed it. Clay acted through instinct, reaching out with the Black to snare the marine and drag him across the divide. His landing was even harder than Loriabeth’s, slamming into the ledge at a shallow angle and rolling away with unnatural speed thanks to the momentum conveyed by the Black.
Clay immediately refocused his gaze on Kriz. She stood facing the Green horde with her bomb-thrower held limp at her side, apparently empty. The Greens were only yards away now and she gave no sign of panic or even concern as they came on, flames blossoming from the jaws of those in the lead. Clay lifted her clear of the horde just as they reached the end of the ridge, leaping and snapping at her dangling feet. A dozen or more tumbled into the crevasse whilst the rest milled about on the ridge-top, screaming their frustration.
Clay turned Kriz about as he carried her over the gap, looking up to find her smiling down at him as she floated closer. It was a smile he hadn’t seen on her face before, possessing a genuine regard, even affection. He found it so surprising and captivating he failed to notice the Red until it was almost upon her.
CHAPTER 39
Lizanne
“The Emperor’s Ravens and the Iron Watch,” Korian said. “Plus three batteries of artillery and a full regiment of dragoons. That’s just the vanguard. There are at least three other regiments of conscripts a few miles behind.”
The Electress had convened a council to hear the Brotherhood leader report the results of his most recent reconnaissance. She had purloined a command tent from the stores at Hervus which was large enough to accommodate the army’s captains. Lizanne was unsure if she should be reassured or worried by the fact that Atalina had made a point of ensuring Miss Blood attend this meeting.
“Pretty much the entire Household Division,” Arberus mused. “Or what’s left of it after the Scarlet Legion were destroyed at Carvenport. It appears Countess Sefka doesn’t want to take any chances.”
Lizanne found his reflective tones somewhat odd given Korian’s report. Together, the Emperor’s Ravens and the Iron Watch comprised the elite infantry of the Corvantine Imperial army, each possessing a fearsome reputation equal to that of the now-extinct Scarlet Legion.
“At least six thousand men in the vanguard and another nine thousand following,” she said. “We may have gathered plenty of recruits in recent days but not that many.”
“Numbers aren’t everything,” the Electress stated, her words accompanied by a glower that warned against any further unasked-for opinions. “Where?” she asked, turning back to Korian.
“Fifteen miles north-west as of this afternoon. Looks like they’re keeping to the Corvus Road.”
“So they’ll already have encamped for the night,” Arberus concluded. “And won’t be too hard to find, even in the dark.” He straightened, addressing his next words to the Electress. “We should break camp, a night attack offers the best chance of success.”
Lizanne managed to contain her appalled exclamation but others present were not so restrained. “Are you fucking mad?” Varkash asked. “Dis lot against the empire’s finest troops? In duh dark?”
“Better the dark than daylight,” Arberus replied. “The Household Division is a formidable enemy, it’s true. But having fought alongside them, I know their strength lies in the rigidity of their discipline. In close ranks with a clear field of fire they could prove unbeatable, but such discipline comes with a price. The Ravens and The Watch are like automata, responding to orders without thought or individual initiative. Confusion will be our ally, and darkness breeds confusion. Also,” he added after a moment’s pause, casting a reluctant glance in Lizanne’s direction, “all manner of terrors.”
Lizanne’s gaze moved from him to the Electress, who now wore a broad smile. “Miss Blood,” she said, “will be our key to victory.”