Promise of Blood - By Brian McClellan Page 0,106

time? And why are they here, when Surkov’s Alley is an easier target?”

Taniel found they were all looking at Bo.

“Julene,” Bo said with a sniff.

“No,” Taniel said. “No way she knew about the army. She’s been with me for five weeks.”

“It’s not her army,” Bo said. “But I’d be willing to bet she’s going to use it.”

“How?”

“Plans within plans,” Bo said. He avoided Taniel’s gaze. “She let slip once that she’s well known in the Kez court.”

“We’re not going to find her body, are we?”

Bo shook his head. “She fell on the Kez side anyway.”

“Then what now?” Taniel asked.

Gavril took a deep breath. “We take our places at the Mountainwatch. We do what the Mountainwatch has done for a thousand years.” He drew himself up. “We defend Adro.”

They reached the fortress by the middle of the afternoon. A small group of men and women waited at the northeast gate. Closer, a group of three women were rushing up the path. Taniel didn’t even need to guess who they were.

Privileged were magnetic to the opposite sex. Most agreed it was their bearing and power. It was common knowledge that their constant interactions with the Else gave them incredible sex drives, so few Privileged, especially the males, went without a harem. Bo was no exception.

Bo pushed them and their questions away with a brusque wave of his hand and instead went with Fesnik and another Watcher named Mozes, who took him away without a word. Ka-poel disappeared at some point, leaving Taniel alone with Gavril.

“I want to get a better look at that army,” Gavril said.

Taniel followed him across the bastion. He’d need to get a good look at this army to report to Tamas.

Workers were everywhere. Taniel had not imagined so many people could fit in the Mountainwatch bastion and he wondered if reinforcements had been sent from Adopest. Watchers rushed around in a frenzy, most of them carrying muskets or rifles. Despite the hurry, no one seemed to actually be doing anything. The Watch was in top shape and they’d done their preparations. Now they awaited the attack.

The southern wall of the fortress was an ancient bastion, designed with the contours of the mountain in mind. The reality of artillery fire meant that the town could be bombarded quite easily from falling munitions, while the wall itself would remain almost undisturbed. The points of the bastion were filled with fixed gun emplacements—as many as could be crammed into the space. It fairly bristled.

Taniel and Gavril went out to the tip of the bastion. They could see the whole mountainside from here and Taniel couldn’t help but wonder how suicidal the Kez troops would have to be to attempt to take the Mountainwatch. There were miles of switchbacks within clear sight of artillery and small arms, and only one flat approach to the main fortress—straight up the road. Anywhere else, they’d have to scale the mountainside and then the wall, all while under fire from above.

Taniel held up his thumb, trying to gauge distance.

“There’s a town halfway down the mountain,” Gavril said. “Called Mopenhague. They’ve set their advance camp there.”

“How far?”

“In a straight line?” Gavril said. “Three miles. Just out of range of artillery.”

“Not too far for me.” Taniel would crease a few heads when the fighting started, and they’d have to move their camp back another mile.

“Novi’s toes!” Gavril was frowning down the mountain. “Those idiots.” He grabbed a young Watcher by the shoulder and pointed down the slope. “Who’s letting them get this close? They’re within musket range, no problem. Almost to our redoubts!”

The boy shrugged. “Sorry. They’ve just been coming up. No one’s given the order to fire. We sent a runner to Adopest when the army arrived, but we haven’t gotten orders yet.”

Taniel searched the slope for where Gavril had been pointing. There was a thin ribbon of men moving up and down the switchbacks. Their uniforms were sand-colored with green trim. Kez infantry. They carried timber and tools, and they were coming up just below the redoubts. Adran soldiers in the redoubts simply watched as the men worked.

“Pit,” Gavril said. He stormed down to the gate and out into the road. Taniel snatched up his rifle and a spare powder horn and followed.

The redoubts were a series of six small forts jutting out from the corners of the first few switchbacks down the mountainside. They contained one small fixed gun each and enough men to staff them with a few riflemen beside. The snow had been

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