generally had a hard time with angle floating, and often failed to make the angle sharp enough. It took precision timing and a damned huge amount of concentration. Taniel couldn’t manage that concentration. A failed angle floater made his head feel like it had been pounded by a hammer. A successful one hurt more.
What Taniel could do was nudge bullets. Nudging a bullet was no more than burning some powder to correct your aim while the bullet was in flight—much like floating itself. It took little more than a sharp eye, yet he’d never seen anyone shoot farther nor more accurately than he could. And he could do it with two bullets.
Ka-poel pointed out a pair of Privileged about ten paces from each other. They stood down beside the easy cover of the redoubts, some hundred paces away and protected by their personal shields. Taniel lined up the shot and pulled the trigger.
Both men dropped, taking the separate bullets to the chest. A third Privileged saw them fall. Taniel ducked behind the wall.
He signaled to Ka-poel to stay down. The Privileged would be watching for him now. He couldn’t stop shooting. He took a few deep breaths and loaded one bullet and pictured that third Privileged in his mind’s eye. Less than a second to aim and shoot. He crawled, rifle in hand, changing his position on the wall by five paces. A few quick breaths and he sprang up.
The Privileged had his hands up, fingers twitching. An arch of lightning sprang from the air above him as Taniel pulled the trigger. The lightning slammed into the spot Taniel had been a few moments before, the force of the impact powerful enough to knock Taniel, Gavril, Ka-poel, Fesnik, and a dozen Kez soldiers off their feet.
The bullet drifted high and ripped through the Privileged’s throat. He went down in a spray of blood.
Taniel breathed a sigh of relief.
A horn resounded across the mountainside. The sound of fighting tapered off as the Kez soldiers retreated back down the mountain.
Gavril pushed away a soldier he’d been grappling with. He held a fist above his head. “Cease fire!” The cannons silenced. Kez soldiers within the bulwark threw down their weapons. Gavril scowled at them. “We’re not taking prisoners,” he said. “Surrender your weapons and gear, and then down the mountain with you.”
Word passed throughout the bastion. Kez climbed back over the walls after being relieved of their muskets and powder, and began the long walk among their dead. Gavril found a Kez officer among the wounded and took him by the shoulder while Taniel watched.
“Tell Field Marshal Tine that he can send some unarmed soldiers up to collect your dead. And I suggest we all take a few days to tend to the wounded.” Gavril repeated the order in Kez to be sure he was understood.
The officer nodded wearily and, with the help of a Kez soldier, headed over the wall and down the mountain.
Taniel dropped down beside Bo.
“You OK?”
Bo gave him a long look.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“To the pit with all this,” Bo managed.
Katerine, Rina, and Alasin appeared as if from nowhere. All three of Bo’s women. They surrounded Bo, alternately scolding and fussing, and Bo was carried off toward the town.
Taniel and Gavril watched them go.
“I need to get me one of those,” Taniel said.
“What?” Gavril asked. “A harem?”
“Yeah,” Taniel said. Ka-poel punched him in the arm.
“I’ve tried juggling more than one woman at once,” Gavril said. “It’s a pain in the ass. Don’t know how Privileged do it.”
“They treat ’em like shit,” Taniel said.
“Bo doesn’t,” Gavril said. “I guess I should say, ‘I don’t know how Bo does it.’”
They turned and watched the retreating Kez in silence for a moment.
“You really saved our asses there,” Gavril said.
Taniel gave Gavril a surprised look. “Huh?”
“You didn’t know?”
Gavril slapped his knee and gave a loud guffaw. Watchers, tending to the dead and wounded, paused to give Gavril odd looks. “You mean you don’t know who you shot?”
“A Privileged?” He bent over, picked up a discarded bottle of St. Adom’s Festival wine. Somehow it had gone unbroken through all of this. He took a swig. After a moment’s hesitation he handed it to Ka-poel. She drank once and gave it back.
“At a hundred yards even I recognized him,” Gavril said. “That last one, the one that hit us with a lightning bolt hard enough to knock through the wards on the bastion. That was Brajon the Callous.”