The Wolf's Call - Anthony Ryan Page 0,174

not an impossible one. I’ve seen armies break on less formidable walls than these.” Sho Tsai straightened, turning a shrewd gaze on Luralyn. “Your brother will not delay, I assume? He will attack tonight.”

She nodded. “Everywhere he can.”

“Then we will meet him everywhere. Lord Vaelin, I hereby appoint you in Commander Deshai’s place. You will take charge of all the regiments on the western wall. Ensure your men know that there is to be no retreat. Any man who takes a single backward step will kneel before the headsman come the morning.”

“This city was constructed to allow for successive retreats.” Vaelin nodded at the second tier of Keshin-Kho. “We know there are more Gifted out there. Should the outer wall be breached . . .”

“Our tactics have already proven sound. Our own Blessed-of-Heaven will match theirs. You agreed to submit to my orders.” His eyes grew hard as they lingered on Vaelin’s and he spoke with careful deliberation. “Not one step back.”

Vaelin felt a strong impulse to argue, point out that Juhkar was injured and unlikely to recover for days. In order to discern the presence of the Darkblade’s Gifted, they would have to rely on Ahm Lin’s song, which lacked the tracker’s precision. You are not Battle Lord here, he reminded himself. And there is always merit in a staunch defence.

“As you command, General,” he said with a formal bow.

* * *

◆ ◆ ◆

As Luralyn predicted there was no lull before the storm, the first attacks coming less than an hour after sunset. They fell on the eastern flank first, ten thousand or more Redeemed streaming out of the dark to assail the walls with scaling ladders. Having been warned of the assault by Ahm Lin, Sho Tsai had rushed additional reinforcements to the sector. Vaelin could hear the din of battle even from across the city, detecting a strange rhythmic note amidst the discordant cacophony.

“Battle prayers,” Eresa explained. “The Redeemed sing them in praise of the Darkblade as they charge.” She gave a short, strained laugh at the absurdity of her former comrades as she adjusted the hauberk she wore. It had been greatly modified to match her diminutive frame but still caused no end of irritation. She had been placed amongst the Skulls, whilst Jihla had been stationed on the northern bastion and her brother assigned to the eastern wall. Luralyn, at Sho Tsai’s insistence, remained atop the second inner wall with Varij and the Red Scouts. Vaelin had made sure to leave Corporal Cho-ka in no doubt that the primary duty of the Skulls was to protect the Blessed-of-Heaven in their midst.

“Just don’t get too close when she uses her gift,” he advised.

The struggle to the east wore on for close to two hours. At any moment Vaelin expected one of the lookouts he had placed on the intervening rooftops to come running with word that the Redeemed had broken through. However, when a message did arrive, it was carried by one of Sho Tsai’s personal company of runners recruited from the Imperial Messenger Service.

“The mason warns of an attack from the west, my lord,” the man reported, skidding to a halt and sinking to one knee.

Vaelin was about to ask when he should expect the assault, when the hiss of multiple arrows came from beyond the walls. He reached out to grab the messenger’s arm as the man began to rise from his bow, the arrow that would have ended him flicking his hair instead.

Vaelin moved in a crouch to the battlement, risking a glance around the flank of a crenellation to see a mass of riders galloping in parallel to the wall less than fifty paces out. As they galloped they loosed arrows from their strongbows with a speed and accuracy he felt would have impressed the Eorhil. Before a volley of steel-headed shafts forced him back into cover, he was able to make out the leather armour of their assailants.

“Inform the general we’re under attack by the Tuhla,” he told the messenger. The man bowed and descended the nearest stairwell to sprint off through the streets.

“Save your bolts!” Vaelin snapped at a crossbowman who had bobbed up to loose at the riders. “Heads down.”

He cast his voice along the battlement as he moved among the assembled companies. “This is no more than a nuisance,” he told them, making sure to meet the gaze of as many men as he could. He deliberately spared no glances for the few men lying with arrows embedded

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