The Crimson Campaign (19 page)

Taniel could feel the Warden’s black, sticky blood all across his face.

“Oi!” Someone called from the earthworks above him. “They’re coming!”

Taniel realized with a start that the rest of the Kez army was almost upon him. He snatched his rifle and scrambled up the earthworks, kicking dirt and swearing. The Warden had made it look easy. It most certainly wasn’t.

Several hands helped pull Taniel to the relative safety of the earthworks, then thumped him on the back.

“Back to the line!” someone shouted.

Taniel shook his head, resting for a moment on the earthworks barricade. He clutched his rifle to his chest to keep his hands from shaking, and wondered if going over the earthworks like that had been a mistake.

Someone smacked him across the face. He half expected it to be Ka-poel, but when he lifted his eyes, he recognized Major Doravir. She looked furious.

“Do you have a death wish, Captain?” She grabbed him by the collar, shaking him like an errant schoolboy. “Well, do you? No one goes over that embankment without orders. No one!”

“Piss on your orders!”

Taniel shoved her away. He might have put his bayonet through her chest if he’d had any less control over himself.

She stared at him, a cold rage in her eyes. “I’ll see you hanged, Captain.”

“Try it.”

“Load,” came an officer’s call. Taniel took a moment to orient himself. From the high earthworks he could see up and down the jagged line. Wardens were fighting behind the earthworks, clearing out whole groups of men, but the two he’d killed seemed to have tipped things in Adro’s favor in the immediate vicinity. Soldiers bent to reload their rifles, readying for the Kez onslaught.

Taniel turned away from Doravir and stuffed a bullet down his rifle. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her storm away, yelling orders.

“Careful, Captain,” a nearby soldier whispered. “If that one turns her eyes on you, she’ll sleep with you or see you dead. Or both.”

“She can go to the pit, for all I care.”

“She’s General Ket’s sister,” the soldier said. “She does what she wants. But she’s a damned good officer. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Ket’s sister. That’s why he thought he’d seen Ket more recently. The resemblance was strong, even if Doravir had a thinner build. “A damned good officer would let me do my job,” Taniel said. He dropped a second bullet down his rifle and secured it with a scrap of cloth.

The soldier stared at him. “You feeling all right, Captain? You just loaded that twice, and without powder.”

“Ask yourself,” Taniel said with confidence he didn’t feel, “what type of a man would leap the earthworks and go fight two Wardens by himself, then load his rifle without powder.” He licked the powder off his fingers to keep the edge on his powder trance, and set the rifle against his shoulder. He sighted along the barrel. The Kez front line was still some two hundred yards distant. Well out of range of the muskets, while the Adran riflemen would open fire any moment.

Taniel found a pair of officers well back from the line and squeezed the trigger. He floated the two bullets simultaneously, pushing them toward their respective targets.

He caught one of the officers in the chest. The man clutched at the wound and slumped in his saddle, causing panic in his bodyguard. Taniel winced. The other bullet had missed the target. How could he be missing? Had the mala made him lose his edge?

“Kresimir be damned,” the soldier beside him said. “You’re Taniel Two-Shot. Hey” – he tapped the man beside him on the shoulder – “This is Taniel Two-Shot.”

“Yeah,” the other soldier responded, “and I’m a general.”

“He was just down in front of the barricade. Took on four Wardens all by himself.”

“Nah.”

“Saw it with my own eyes.”

“Sure you did.”

Taniel focused on the Kez lines. The
rat-tat-tatting
of their snares seemed to echo in his brain. He opened his third eye for a moment, watching as the earth was bathed in glowing pastels, splashes of sorcery covering every part of the battlefield.

“You ready to die with us, Two-Shot?” the second soldier asked, breaking Taniel’s concentration. It wasn’t phrased as a threat. Just a question.

“No, not particularly.”

“We’ve been falling back every day. Sometimes twice. Every time the damned Kez advance like this. And each time, we lose three hundred men or more.”

Taniel couldn’t believe that. “Every time?”

The man nodded solemnly.

“Falling back…” Taniel craned his neck. The artillery had been wheeled away by now, back to the next row of trenches and earthen barricades. “Stupid bloody fools. We have to hold. We can’t let them push us back like this. We’re practically hemorrhaging troops.”

“I don’t know what an ‘hemorg’ is, but we’re bleedin’ men something fierce. We can’t hold. We tried, but can’t. Nothing stops those Black Wardens. No matter how many we kill, there seems to be more.”

“You’re awfully calm,” Taniel said.

“Something peaceful about that, I think. Knowing you’re going to die. That lad over on your other side —”

Taniel took a glance. The kid next to him didn’t seem old enough to shave. His hands shook so hard his musket was swaying from side to side.

“ – that lad doesn’t have the same opinion I do.”

“It’s just the jitters,” Taniel said. “We all get them.” Taniel glanced at the Kez. A hundred and fifty yards. He reloaded his rifle, lifted it to his shoulder, and fired.

“Not you,” the first soldier said. “I heard you put a round in a Privileged’s eye for your first kill.”

“That I did. But I learned to shoot from Field Marshal Tamas himself.” He paused. “They teach you to shoot at targets,” he said to the young man beside him. “It’s different when you realize there’s a man on the other end, shooting back at you. I was sitting two miles away. I had surprise on my side. But, lad, you take a deep breath and pull that trigger. Fire straight and true, because you might not get another shot.”

“Lad,” Taniel had said. The boy was no more than five years his junior.

Taniel loaded his rifle while he spoke, set, and fired. Another officer dropped.

The boy looked at Taniel. His hands hadn’t stopped shaking.

“I don’t think your pep talk helped much,” the first soldier said.

“Quiet down on the line!” That was Major Doravir. She had her sword raised above her head, a pistol in the other hand. “Aim!”

The Kez were almost in musket range. There were thousands of them. Rank upon rank upon rank. Taniel could see now why it was impossible to hold the line. He remembered the Battle of South Pike and how they’d almost lost the bastion a dozen times. They’d been guarding a pass from an enchanted bulwark only a hundred paces wide. Here, with nothing but earthworks between them and the Kez, it would be next to impossible to hold.

“Fire!”

The front line and much of the second of the Kez offensive fell beneath the volley. The Adran infantry began to reload.

Before a second volley could be fired, the Kez lines came to a stop. The new front line dropped to their knees and lined up their shots before firing.

Taniel threw himself behind the safety of the earthworks. He pulled the young soldier down with him and listened to the volley, and then the
thwap
of musket balls ricocheting off the dirt. The young soldier struggled to get back up. Taniel held him down.

“Line fire,” Taniel said. “They’ll fire that shot, then the next before they charge. You wait…”

The second volley sounded. Taniel counted to three before he let the boy back up and came up himself, ready to fire.

The Kez charged with a mighty roar, their bayonets leveled.

“Fire at will!” came the call.

Taniel took a deep breath of the smoke from the powder. It made his head buzz, his blood pump faster. His hands weren’t shaking from mala withdrawal anymore. His body had found something so much better. He poured a bit of powder onto the back of his hand and snorted.

The Kez reached the bottom of the earthworks and began the steep climb. Taniel rose up high enough to fire down at them, when he spotted a Privileged about a hundred yards away with her hands twitching up sorcery. Taniel adjusted his aim and pulled the trigger.

The woman went down in a spray of blood, clutching at her throat.

Kez infantry poured over the earthworks like a flood breaching a levy. Taniel thrust his bayonet into a man’s stomach, cracked another soldier across the face with the butt of his rifle. He leapt onto the rise to keep them from coming over, swinging and stabbing.

He barely heard the call for retreat.

“Hold!” he screamed, knocking a grenadier off the earthworks with his rifle stock. “We can hold!”

The young soldier who had been beside him went down with a bayonet through his chest. Taniel leapt off the bulwark to his aid, skewering the Kez infantryman like a side of beef.

The boy might die from a wound like that. It had gone straight between his ribs – likely through a lung. If so, he’d drown in his own blood.

But Taniel couldn’t leave him there. The Adran soldiers were retreating.

“Hold! Hold, you bloody bastards!”

Taniel was almost alone on the earthworks. The boy lay at Taniel’s feet. The first soldier he’d spoken to lay against the rear of the earthworks, dead eyes fixed blindly on the sky. Major Doravir was gone.

He reached out and felt the powder of the Kez infantry. A thought was all it took to light it. He used his mind to warp the blast away from him and away from the earthworks. The sound rang in his ears, sending him to his knees. Every ounce of powder within a dozen yards went up.

Powder smoke rose in the air, and charred corpses littered the earthworks. Groans and cries for mercy rose from the wounded. Men farther down the line had stopped their fighting to stare at Taniel. He took a step toward them, going to help hold the earthworks at the next spot, when he realized he couldn’t see an infantryman in a blue jacket on his feet anywhere.

It was just a sea of sandy uniforms. The Kez had taken the earthworks.

The boy was still alive and coughing blood. Taniel slung his rifle over his shoulder and grasped the young soldier under the arms, pulling him backward toward the Adran camp.

It was a long haul, half carrying the boy over a hundred paces to the next set of earthworks. Most of the Kez ignored him. A few potshots skipped off the dirt nearby, but the Kez were too busy securing the new ground. They’d level the earthworks and move back to their own camp, where they’d push their artillery forward another hundred paces and prepare for tomorrow’s charge.

Exhausted, his head still buzzing from the powder trance, Taniel reached the Adran army. “See to him,” Taniel said when a surgeon came running. The surgeon balked and her eyes were wide.

“He’s dead, sir.”

“Just bloody see to him! Make him comfortable!”

“No, sir. He’s not just dying. He’s dead already.”

Taniel dropped to his knee beside the young soldier and put his fingers on the lad’s throat. No pulse. He used the same two fingers to close the young soldier’s eyes.

“Damn it,” he said.

The surgeon got on her knees next to him.

“I’m fine!” He pushed away her fingers.

“Your arm, sir.”

Taniel looked down. His uniform had been torn through, leaving a bloody, jagged cut along his left arm. He’d not even felt it.

“Surgeon,” a voice said, “tend to someone who’s worth it.” Major Doravir stalked toward them, her brown hair wild and her cheeks black with powder burns. Her jacket was gone, her white shirt stained with sweat and blood.

Taniel got to his feet. “Major Doravir,” he said. “Didn’t have the decency to die with your men, eh?”

Her backhand jerked his head to the side. He touched his cheek. That had been hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Do that again and I’ll break your hand.”

“I was the last one away from the front on the retreat,” Major Doravir snarled.

“No,” Taniel said. “I was. We could have held that bulwark. Instead we lost ground and who knows how many hundred men.”

“I obey orders. You don’t. No more warnings, Captain. I’ll see you hanged.” The major spun on her heel and marched off, shouting for the provosts.

Taniel rubbed at his chin and caught Ka-poel watching him from a distance. She headed toward the battlefield, where Kez soldiers were leveling the earthworks and civilians from both sides were already collecting the dead and wounded.

“Where the pit are you going?” Taniel shouted.

She pointed toward the battlefield and held up a doll. Damned girl. That wouldn’t work like it did on Kresim Kurga. There were too many enemies here, and not enough dolls.

Taniel glanced toward Major Doravir. She was speaking to two soldiers with the insignia of Adran provosts on their shoulders. Military police. Doravir pointed to Taniel.

He decided it was a good time to make himself scarce.

CHAPTER

13

Tamas climbed out of his tent and finished buttoning up the front of his uniform. He adjusted the gold epaulets on his shoulders and he wondered if they’d have rain that day. The sky over the Adran Mountains to the east had just barely taken on a light halo, while the rest of the world slept on in darkness.