Promise of Blood - By Brian McClellan Page 0,131

Gavril was gone. “Aren’t you shooting at the bastards?”

Taniel pointed at Ka-poel. “She’s my spotter. I’m always behind cover.”

Ka-poel flashed a number of hand signals.

“She said they have only gathered in the last few minutes,” Taniel said.

“Well, be ready for whatever…”

Bo threw his hand up in a warding gesture. A second later a canister shot went off right above their heads, the echo of the blast ringing through the bastion. Bo’s shields flashed red as the bullets clattered off them, then fell harmlessly to the ground. Canisters exploded over the entire length of the bastion, the sound deafening. The wall at Taniel’s back shook with the impact of cannonballs. He glanced at Ka-poel. Her eyes were dark. She hadn’t even flinched.

“They must be firing every damned artillery they have!” Taniel said above the din. Bo ignored him. His face was strained, his hands flashing at an incredible speed as he worked sorcery to shield the air above the bastion.

The bombardment was withering. Bo’s eyes began to water, veins standing out on his forehead. Fire flashed above them, and Taniel knew that sorcery was backing up the Kez artillery.

Watchers rushed beneath Bo’s shields, flinching at the explosions above, carrying sacks and torches. One Watcher set a sack gently beside Taniel and was off for another after a quick glance at Bo and a muttered prayer. Taniel looked inside the sack. It was full of clay balls as large as a man’s fist. Grenados. They expected the Kez to get close today indeed.

“Fix bayonets!” Gavril’s bellow rose above the concussion of artillery. Taniel felt his heart beat faster. He pulled his ring bayonet from its leather case in his pack and slid it over the end of his rifle. With a twist it locked into place.

“Ready!” Gavril yelled.

Taniel checked his rifle—already loaded. He glanced at Bo. The Privileged was doing all he could do to stay standing while his fingers flashed commands to unseen elements. His shields were beginning to break down. On the other end of the bulwark a canister shot went off within the shield. Men screamed and fell, and a cannon lost its crew.

Taniel peeked over the edge of the bulwark as a trumpet sounded. The mountainside suddenly swarmed with Kez soldiers. They rushed up the road, they climbed the steep rocks. Every inch of mountainside was covered. Where had they been hiding all of these men so close to the fortress?

“Aim!”

Taniel picked out an officer near the front. The man’s white feather wriggled in the air as he ran up the road at the head of his men, waving his sword in the air. The Kez troops plowed on behind him, bayonets fixed on their muskets. A black coat among all the red and gold caught his eye and he changed targets. His heart beat loudly in his ears. Wardens. Lots of them, scattered among the troops. They carried big knives in their teeth like sailors as they scrambled over the rocks on the mountainside, heading straight for the slanted walls of the bulwark.

“Fire!”

Taniel pulled the trigger. He burned a little powder, giving extra oomph to the ball. A cloud of spent gunpowder burst into the air, obscuring his vision for a moment. It cleared, and yells of dismay echoed through the bastion.

Only one man fell from the volley: the Warden Taniel had shot right between the eyes with a redstripe. Bullets and grapeshot burst into sparks and fell harmlessly to the ground a few feet in front of the first ranks. The Kez charge didn’t even falter.

“They have Privileged in their ranks!” Taniel yelled.

“Fire at will!” came the order.

He snatched for his purse of redstripes and opened his third eye. A wave of nausea came over him, which he pushed away as he reloaded. He didn’t have time for powder. He simply dropped a redstripe down his muzzle and rammed cotton swabbing in after it. He sighted down the rifle, opened his third eye.

Pastel colors from the third sight made his head spin. The invisible shield the Kez Privileged were using became a translucent, yellow sheen partially obscuring all behind it. He struggled to pick through the colors beyond. Wardens glowed, and so did Knacked among the Kez troops. Taniel looked for the brightest colors—the Privileged. He picked one out and pulled the trigger. The man jerked and dropped, and Taniel loaded another redstripe.

He managed two more before the Kez reached the walls. The thunder of artillery suddenly dropped off.

Gavril’s voice shouted, “Hold!”

Taniel heard Bo wheeze. He

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