TMarkos
patreon
Part 57 - Not a Breath of Wind Upon the Hill
🕑 Added 2020-12-09 16:56:15 +0000 UTCBy the time a Sjocelym finishes saying hello he’ll have told you three times how much he loves their scriptsmiths - part because he’s glad the toys they make don’t explode, and part because he knows that for the right people they sometimes do.
- Aesvain joke.
---
The clouds stretched from horizon to horizon, although in two distinct parts - on the Sjocelym side of the wall, the usual blanket of wispy stratus clouds occluded the sky, while over the Vidim Vai lay thick clusters of angry, dark thunderheads masked behind an obscuring veil of dust. At the discontinuity above the wall there was a wide gap between the cloud layers that permitted the sun to shine through into the dust blanket, lighting everything in a palette of reds, oranges and ochres.
The wind still blew over the top of the wall, even if the dust itself was held back by the scriptsmiths’ hasty modifications to the draam je qaraivat along the fortification. The metal collars around their base hummed lightly and made Jesse’s skin tingle. For his part, Mark claimed he could neither hear nor feel anything from the devices.
Both men wore thick goggles that they had liberated from the gunnery crews’ supplies. The tinted glass further diminished the waning light, rendering the landscape all but invisible between volleys of fire. A low whine issued from the tower above as the nearest large lens charged a shot. It whumphed out in a line of incandescent dust that flared painfully bright even through the goggles.
Dust billowed and convected in the plume of superheated air left by the strike, and for a moment they could see the gunnery crews’ target - an encroaching wave of darkness, thousands of seething bodies pressed together in a tangle of limb and bone and old, rotted leather. A streak of flame cast dull red light where the beam had hit the crowd. Flames curled around bisected bodies and severed limbs only to gutter out when the wind swept across the fallen and a fresh wave of desiccated feet trod the embers into the sand.
“We’re hitting them,” Mark observed, raising his voice over the wind. “Not that they seem to mind much.”
Jesse nodded, watching as the dust swelled up to block their view of the impact site. He let his fingers drift over his sword hilt once more and saw the scene snap back into view - muted, blurred colors visible through a luminous haze that clung to the dust. The oncoming tide of bodies stretched to the limits of his vision. “She brought a lot,” he agreed. “Slow, though. The towers are doing a good job of holding them back.” He frowned as he spotted a promontory in the enemy front, a bulge stretching forward through a gap in their firing pattern.
Jesse turned to a red-robed scriptsmith standing behind him. “They’re getting closer to the fourth tower,” he said. “Big group of them center-left, at the second-farthest marker.”
The scriptsmith nodded and busied himself tapping out instructions on a twinplate, tracing the hand methodically back and forth around its arc. In moments there was another burst of light from farther down the wall that scythed through the enemy group. A few stragglers milled around in apparent confusion until another burst from the primary lens turned them to ash.
Mark made a face and coughed as a fresh wave of burnt-corpse smell washed over them. “Ugh, shit,” he spat. “You have any idea how many of these we have to take out to start slowing her down?”
“No clue,” Jesse said. “I’m guessing most of them, though. If Jes is any guide the scriptwork can get pretty compact. Even if we immobilized all of them there might still be enough partial bodies with intact bones to keep her ‘network’ intact.” He coughed, wincing at the smoky air. A low rumble of thunder echoed out from the storm, making an ominous counterpoint to the whine of the charging lenses. “We just need to try and take out as many as we can, keep the main body of them away from the wall. If they get too close they’ll bring the storm with them.”
“Then lightning hits the towers, no more magic lasers, we all get dead,” Mark said. “Simple enough.” He squinted and turned to the side as another dazzling ray of light shot out from the large lens near them to wipe away the enemy’s front rank. Jesse paused to peer into the dust, then gave a new set of directions to the scriptsmith for relay to the towers.
The dust storm roiled and the clear air from the last shot faded into the haze. A pair of smaller beams raked the dust in response to Jesse’s commands, but Mark was turned away from the front. Instead, he looked behind them at the growing stockpile of dull crystals awaiting their turn in the kilns.
Carts arrived to take the crystals back to the gateway, which was flickering off and on every few minutes as they reconfigured to point it to Ce Raedhil, Utine, Setimen and even the Sanctum - each of the cities were working their kilns overtime to supply the smaller lenses, while the largest crystals were taken to the solar array from the truck. Even with its limited capacity the array remained the best option for keeping the heavy lenses firing.
Mark squinted upward at the gap in the cloud layer. “We’re going to lose the sun in a few hours,” he said. The thunder sounded once more, the storm distorting it to a low howl that seemed to move through the clouds like a living thing.
“We’re going to run through our stock of big crystals before that,” Jesse replied. “At least we might get a few extra shots before we have to fall back to the small ones.” He looked back out at the storm. “We’ll just-”
Jesse broke off and ducked reflexively as a loud crack cut through the noise of the storm. Mark, too, swore and ducked below the parapet. “The fuck?” he said, exchanging a confused look with Jesse. “That sounded like an M4.” A series of reports rang out to follow the first, accompanied by screams and the crash of broken glass.
Mark paled and looked upward, stripping off his goggles in time to see the delicate focal elements of the tower’s large lens collapse from their mounts. Fractures spidered out from a few holes punched clear through the thick glass. Another fusillade ricocheted uselessly off the dark stone, and yet another missed the tower entirely.
“That’s a problem,” Jesse said mildly, his even tone contrasting with his wide eyes and white-knuckle grip on the hilt of his sword. He risked a look over the parapet as the gunfire continued to tear through the air around the tower, mostly missing the broad stone structure but occasionally throwing a ricochet or impacting into the ruined lens apparatus.
Mark peeked out beside him. Diffuse muzzle flashes rippled through the horde, but their locations were mostly obscured by the dust. “Those are our fucking guns!” he hissed. “She must have taken them from the camp, brought them up North somehow.”
“Somehow,” Jesse agreed, flinching as another barrage tore through the air to the side of the tower, high over their heads. “I don’t think she has a lot of fine control. Almost all the shots are missing.”
“Almost isn’t all,” Mark said, looking up at the shattered emplacement and biting back another muttered curse. “You’re right, it’s like they’re firing blind - but the lenses make big targets.” He swiveled to their twinplate operator, who was staring up at the destroyed lens in open-mouthed horror.
“Send a message,” he snapped, grabbing the man by the shoulder. The scriptsmith flinched, and Mark squeezed until the man winced in pain. “Hey, focus. The Cereinem standing near the gates, tell them to run barriers up to the rest of the towers. Metal, wood, whatever - just something they can put in front of the lenses between shots. Small lenses too, when they’re done with the towers.”
The operator stammered incoherently, looking down at his codebook in a panic. “There’s not a code-” he began, only to cut off with a wince as Mark bore down with his hand once more.
“Figure it out,” Mark said, “or run down there and tell them yourself if you have to.” He relaxed his grip, looking out from the wall. “Go. Before we lose another one.”
The scriptsmith nodded, stepping back - then bolting for the stairs as another rifle began to chatter out a burst of fire, punctuated by the inconsistent report of a pistol.
“Jesus,” Mark muttered, hunkering down next to Jesse once more. “Just what we fucking needed.”
“Look on the bright side,” Jesse said. “When this is all over, maybe we can salvage some parts and ammo.”
Mark gave him an incredulous look, then the two men burst out laughing.
---
Arjun walked through the spacious workshop, his hands clasped lightly behind his back. The space stretched almost the entire width of the tower floor and was several floors in height. Balconies ringed the perimeter, and though they were clean and well-maintained he could see spots where the colors on the balustrade didn’t match - various patch jobs performed over the millennia since this room was originally built.
Jackie had speculated that it might have once been a space for conventions or celebrations, a large ballroom or dining hall. Whatever it had been, however - now it was given over to the scriptsmiths. Huge lengths of metal and stone lay in stacks, flanked by smaller piles of boxes, crates and raw scrap. A flotilla of mismatched carts ferried equipment around, from flat slabs that hovered unsupported to the same sort of balanced wheelbarrow they had seen Vumo use on his trip up the mountain.
It was an exceedingly impressive space, full of varied and fascinating items - and they had time for none of it. Arjun picked his way through the chaos until he arrived back at a series of long tables that had been pushed together to hold a thin, curved piece of glass. Jackie stood over it, walking slowly from one end to the other with a puzzled frown.
He moved to stand next to her, skirting around a knot of scriptsmiths that were chattering in hushed tones over some scraps of salvaged documentation. Much of the technology here was built for unknown purposes. It could be old manufacturing equipment, part of some ancient vehicle, or scrap from a nonfunctional art installation. Matching scrap with knowledge was, Arjun had gathered, one of the primary tasks performed at the Archive.
This particular piece of scrap looked like anything but - it had been cleaned until it appeared brand new, the glass unscratched and liquidly transparent beneath a burnished copper bracket. The thin rib of glass was slightly curved, culminating in two bulky endcaps that held a variety of mountings and connectors.
Arjun frowned. “It’s too big,” he muttered.
Jackie looked up and smiled, seeming to notice he was there for the first time. “Right?” she asked. “The curvature is so slight, there’s no way this is part of a lens array. The whole thing would be just impractical-”
“Too big for the gateway,” Arjun clarified.
The smile fell off of Jackie’s face as she looked back down. “Oh,” she muttered. “Yeah, this would be tough by itself. With anything else bolted on to it, there’s no way.”
“Vumo said he was coming here to work on more defenses, but I don’t see them sending anything down the elevators,” Arjun said, keeping his voice neutral. “What’s more, I don’t see any parts here that look like they belong to the emplacement lenses. It’s all bigger, more complex - better tech than what they sent through to the wall.”
Jackie pressed her lips together, looking out over the floor. “Jesus. They’re not trying to help Idran Saal,” she said. “They’re fortifying the defenses here, at Ce Raedhil.”
“Vumo had said they were doubtful about a successful defense of Idran Saal before,” Arjun said. “I thought he had changed his mind. They committed so many troops, so much materiel that I thought-” He paused, pressing his lips together into a line. “But not their own troops, or at least not most. Most of the scriptsmiths left with us.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jackie said, her face flushing. “You think Vumo is using the battle as a political maneuver?”
Arjun managed a wry smile, albeit a humorless one. “It makes sense,” he said. “We know the scriptsmiths are only one faction in the government.” He waved a hand, gesturing broadly towards the north. “The enemy attacks Idran Saal. Vumo makes a big show of putting new technology on the wall, goes up there himself to supervise the defenses - but it’s the soldiers who are ultimately in charge when the attack comes. The assets he’s provided are expendable, as are the few men left to operate them.”
“So they fail. The soldiers and some lower-ranking scriptsmiths take a good portion of the enemy’s forces out, but ultimately aren’t able to repel the attack. Idran Saal falls, and the attackers cut through Tinem Sjocel towards Maja’s Sanctum. It’s a flat plain between here and there, so they can’t just go up the mountain unimpeded - Vumo has lenses and elevated firing positions here, he’ll annihilate them from the rear if they try to attack Draatyn Asidram without dealing with Ce Raedhil first.”
Jackie nodded. “He forces the confrontation here, where he can claim all the credit,” she said. “He succeeds where the army failed, and his forces are basically untouched in the bargain. Any losses will be borne by the garrison abbey or the city guard.” She paused, looking stricken. “Jesus, Mark and Jesse. And the Aesvain, do you think they came down to help?”
“I doubt it,” Arjun said. “I don’t see them getting over their hatred of the Sjocelym so quickly, not after they saw the state of those prisoners.” He looked north again. “No, Mark and Jesse are probably on their own.”
Jackie turned to look out over the workshop, her eyes flitting between the exits. “We’ve got to go back to warn them,” she said. “The gateway should be connecting to Idran Saal regularly, I heard one of the scriptsmiths saying they were still charging crystals for the emplacements. We can go back through, find Mark and Jesse, then head to the Sanctum.”
“You can’t go to the Sanctum,” Arjun said gently. “Neither can Jesse.”
“Fuck that, we’ll go anyway,” Jackie said vehemently, her tone drawing a few alarmed stares from nearby scriptsmiths. Arjun gave her a warning look, and she lowered her voice. “Maja might go after us, but if they stay up there they’re dead for sure. I don’t see any other options.”
Arjun grimaced. “It won’t end well, but I don’t see a way around it,” he sighed. “Maybe I could go and you could stay here. We’ll send Jesse through to this gate, Mark and I will return to the Sanctum.”
“I think once we try to leave through the gateway our welcome is going to get a lot less friendly,” Jackie said. “If we do this we’re basically letting Vumo know we’ve seen through his plans. We wouldn’t be safe in the city.”
Arjun nodded slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wish I could find the flaw in your argument,” he said ruefully. “All right, I suppose we’re all heading back to the Sanctum. Hopefully the unfolding invasion will keep Maja off-balance enough that she forgets to kill us.”
The two looked around, then began to walk towards the tower’s ornate elevator. They kept their pace casual, stopping to inspect a few tables strewn with components and partially-disassembled lenses before slipping into the crowd of porters and scriptsmiths that were waiting in the lobby.
Their height and foreign appearance made blending in impossible, so both simply affected a bored expression and stared forward at the doors until they slid open. The crowd pressed forward and they allowed themselves to flow with it.
Several floors rushed by in quick succession - as they headed downward, thankfully, for they had not had a means to verify the path of the elevator prior to boarding. Groups of riders shuffled off and on. After a minute or so the doors opened to a rush of hot, sharp-smelling air that tickled in the back of their throats. Several men moved into the elevator wheeling carts that brimmed with luminous charge crystals. Jackie and Arjun exchanged a glance, shifting position to stand near the newcomers.
After a few more stops it was only them and the crystal-hauling porters left. When the doors opened for the final time they braced themselves and walked out - only to find Sjogydhu waiting amid a formation of scriptsmith guards. The porters wheeled their carts out beside them, shuffling nervously at the unexpected presence of soldiers as the doors hissed shut at their backs.
“Zhaqi Ra, Arujun Ra,” he said, Sunshine held conspicuously at his side. “I’ve been asked to ensure you find your way back to the workshop. It is Vumo Ra’s hope that you will refrain from wandering the tower during this time of crisis.”
“Dammit, Sjogydhu,” Jackie hissed, stepping forward. Her hand came to rest on the cart beside her, fingers curling around one of the glowing crystals. “We just want to go through the gate. Are we guests here, or are we prisoners?”
Sjogydhu’s eyes flicked to her hand. “Assets,” he said. “Ones that Vumo Ra has directed me to keep from harm.”
“So you know as well,” Arjun said. “You were there, organizing the men. Training them. You worked with the crews that are still there manning the lenses, just as I did. You knew what Vumo had planned for them when we all came back to Ce Raedhil and left them behind.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Sjogydhu inclined his head. “I did know,” he said. “Many of us did, including some of the ones who stayed behind. The final confrontation was always going to be here, at Ce Raedhil. We defend Idran Saal because it is defensible, but ultimately it is only a stumbling block for our enemy, a way to improve our situation for the real battle.”
“I don’t care,” Jackie said, taking a step forward. The crystal shone brightly from between her fingers. “We don’t have time for this. I don’t really give a shit about his big plans, I just want to get Mark and Jesse out of there.”
“I understand,” Sjogydhu said, though he did not step out of their way. “I do, even if you doubt me. As Arujun Ra said, I knew many of the men who will die today. We must-”
Sjogydhu stopped speaking abruptly, his eyes fixing on the elevators. The guards came to attention around him, and he inclined his head. Slowly, Jackie and Arjun turned to look behind them. The porters had all dropped to their knees, heads bowed towards the spindly, emaciated figure now standing in the elevator.
“I was told you were here,” Vumo said quietly. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper, though it carried oddly well. “The travelers. You have knowledge we need to defend ourselves. We all have our part to play. The threat is not so tame that we may do what we wish while ignoring that which we must do. I must protect the kingdom.” He shuffled his injured leg forward, gripping the edge of the door with knuckles that seemed to nearly protrude through his papery skin.
“I mean to save it all,” he said, eyes glittering as they flickered back and forth between Arjun and Jackie. “Save it from her. You know, you’ve seen. You’ve met her. You should know what it would mean if she gets what she wants, even if you don’t trust me.” He stretched his mouth into a rictus grin, teeth flashing white in the dark lobby. “I underestimated her. I did. I’ve been too lax by far, and I will pay the price - the final price for it before the end, I expect.”
“So you see,” he said. “I do not do this for me, but for the sake of his kingdom - for the sake of preserving everything we worked so hard for.” The grin dropped from his face, and he leaned towards them with wide eyes. “It will be a terrible price. We must pay it in full, or lose everything.” He straightened back up, his eyes defocusing. “Everything. Do not let them leave, Sjogydhu Qa. We must prepare our defenses here, before I run out of time. I refuse to let it all amount to nothing.”
Vumo turned and staggered back into the elevator, clutching his leg as the doors whisked closed and the car slid upward.
Jackie and Arjun exchanged a look, wide-eyed, then turned back to the guards behind them. “He’s crazy,” Arjun said.
“He’s injured, and under strain,” Sjogydhu demurred. “Nothing he said was wrong.”
Jackie stalked forward, still gripping the charge crystal tightly. “He’s fucking crazy,” she said, “and we’re leaving.”
Sjogydhu brought Sunshine to bear on her. “You won’t have a transit window without sending a request over the twinplate. You don’t know the codes, and we won’t send them while you’re here. All you’re doing is delaying those crystals from getting back to your friends.” He shifted his gaze to Arjun. “Nothing you do here will help them. What you do in the workshop may, in the end.”
Arjun’s eyes narrowed, but he laid his hand on Jackie’s arm. She scowled, reluctantly tossing the crystal back onto the pile in the cart. “If they don’t make it back,” she said to Sjogydhu, “you and I are going to have business.”
Sjogydhu lowered his weapon and nodded to her. “I’ll look forward to that conversation,” he said. “It will mean that we’ve both managed to survive.”
---
“Left!” Jesse called out, pointing with his sword. One of the small lenses pivoted and fired a measured sweep of energy into the dust before its operators ducked back behind a battlement. Through the stone fortification Jesse saw the dim glow of the enemy fade where the beam had hit, but they were still much closer to the clear ground before the wall than they had been before.
The barricades in front of the large lenses had limited their losses to just one more of the tower emplacements, but the remaining lenses were slowed by the need to erect and dismantle the protective barriers after each shot - and the small lenses were hard-pressed to make up for the gaps in their coverage.
It was, Jesse realized, only a matter of time before they broke through to the wall itself.
He barked some hasty instructions to the gunnery crew before dropping down into the stairwell, the sudden stillness of the air tingling on his face. It wasn’t a far run to the main gate, where he found Mark already waiting with the Cereinem. Tesvaji grinned and clapped him on the shoulder as he approached.
“The enemy is close,” Tesvaji said cheerfully. “And getting closer, to judge by the storm. Almost to the wall?”
Jesse nodded. “Soon, but I don’t think they’ll surprise us,” he said. “They’ll be slow within the protected area, and hard for her to direct. The real threat is the lightning. Once they’re close enough she’ll start attacking the wall. If she advances much beyond that, she’ll attack the stones themselves.”
“If that happens we’re fucked,” Mark said. “We can’t let them build up against the wall, or we’ll lose most of our firepower.”
“Do we have anything else we can throw at them?” Jesse asked, raising his voice over the howl of the storm. It was definitely more intense than it had been just minutes earlier, even in the relative shelter behind the wall. “They’re pushing hard for the gatehouse, the lenses aren’t keeping up.”
“Nothing I can think of,” Mark replied. He grinned, hefting his hammer, then let it impact the ground with a resonant thud. “I guess we’ve just got to get out there and push back.”
