50. Ethan

Chapter 50

Ethan

“ A TTACK!” echoed down the eternal line of Kingdom soldiers that spanned the full length of the western wall.

Tens of thousands of men cried out in a deafening roar and surged toward newly formed gaps in Saltstone’s skin. None of the hidden magical traps survived to harry the men, and what little of the barricades that still stood were easily avoided. Deep pits lined with sharp, upturned stakes consumed the front ranks of soldiers as they neared the wall, but their screams were drowned by the roar of their brothers racing overtop their stilled bodies.

Melucian defenders near the western gate, those who’d had time to rouse and don armor or grab bows, tried to form a shield wall. Haphazard arrows flew in wild, uncoordinated arcs, desperately searching for a foe to strike. An occasional magical blast flew from the back of the disheveled line, but their force was weak and bore little fruit.

The Kingdom’s wave was a force of nature no man could withstand.

A streak of blinding light blasted from the Mages’ tower. Near-frozen water struck the invaders, scattering them into their comrades in every direction.

A sliver of hope swelled among the beleaguered defenders as Declan’s magical onslaught forced their enemy back into the wide wound in the wall.

A moment after the first torrent ceased, a second lance of magic flared from the tower, rending the earth just inside the wall, creating a new, frigid moat twenty hands deep and twenty paces wide.

The Kingdom’s advance halted.

Saltstone arrows fired into the bottled-up gap.

Men cheered with renewed vigor, forming new defensive lines and dispatching Kingdom men cut off from retreat by the new moat.

Trebuchets fired an angry reply.

Logs of the wall surrounding the gap splintered, showering friend and foe with wooden spikes. Volleys devastated the wall before the magical barrier reappeared to quell their stones—but it was too late.

The gap in the wall was now a hundred paces wide.

Like ants stirred from their hill, soldiers streamed into the city.

The southwestern front was undefended.

This part of the city contained mostly undeveloped farmland and Lake Esper, the city’s largest body of water. Major defensive structures, such as the army barracks and training compound, were leagues to the north.

No one expected an attack on cattle or cabbage fields.

The closest reinforcements were two squads of eight men manning the southern gate. By the time alarms sounded and General Vre ordered his cavalry south, the quadrant was lost.

Thousands of Kingdom soldiers formed a shield wall, complete with ranks of archers nocked and ready to give cover. The Melucian cavalry was cut down before the first man could even reach the raised pikes.

A second shield wall formed behind the first, then a third.

Rank upon rank of silver-armored men stood, shields locked, from Saltstone’s western road to the river that snaked through the middle of the city. Once lines were established, I made my way to the front.

Isabel and Bril commanded the northern line.

I was perfectly happy leading the southern front.

My horse, battle-trained from a foal, snorted breaths of frosty air as we approached the rearmost shield wall. I turned to the officer trailing on my right. “Send scouts into the city. It’s too quiet, even out here in the countryside. Something’s wrong.”

The man saluted and turned to bark orders to a waiting messenger.

I sat tall in my saddle, surveying the three walls of men, shields, and pikes. Thousands of archers still poured through the gap, bolstering our rear with immense-ranged firepower. I thought back to Danai’s mission and hoped my scouts would find the city deserted. Bril had been right: not even the good Spirits would be able to save me if Isabel found out what we’d done behind her back.

We had to play this perfectly.

But if I did fall for this act . . . at least I would fall with a clear conscience.

As the sun rose, Saltstone fell.

Doomed defenders were caught between the western swell and my steadily advancing walls of shields. The golden morning sky dimmed with each volley from our archers, our attacks now coming from the front and side of men struggling to shield themselves.

Saltstone’s defenders died quickly.

When the battlefield quieted enough for units to be sent throughout the city to secure our gains and eliminate insurgents, Isabel gathered her commanders.

We should have been celebrating the greatest military victory in the continent’s history or planning the next steps of our invasion; instead, we cowered as our Regent stalked around a room, fire writhing in her palms.

“Where are the people ? How did they escape?”

“We have units looking for them, Your Majesty. It’s possible they evacuated before we arrived.” Bril dared to make eye contact, then retreated.

“Do you believe that, Marks? They were gone when we arrived?”

“I do not know, Your Majesty.” Unlike the Minister, my eyes did not flee. “They had a month to prepare. It is what I would have done in their place.”

One of the minor generals waded into the muck. “Your Majesty, units searching the city found evidence of massive movement out of the eastern gate. The ground was muddy and heavily trodden. If the people fled before we arrived, there would be more undisturbed snow.”

She wheeled and glowered at Bril. “ Minister Bril, find the people of Saltstone and bring them home. Then round up every man assigned to the eastern gate and execute them.”

Bril’s mouth opened, but words failed.

“All of them. If you fail, I will kill you instead.”

Bril’s head lowered.

“I have no more time for your incompetence. While the Mages’ tower stands, the city is not ours.” She turned to leave, then looked back over her shoulder at me. “General Marks, find who betrayed me and secure the city.”