The Scarab Path Part 34

'You know know why.' He was on his feet suddenly and she shrank back from him. 'Che, you don't need to ask that question. I will stay, if you stay. I will also leave if you will leave with me. That's because I love you. You know that I love you. That I always have, since we were students and you were copying down my answers in cla.s.s.' why.' He was on his feet suddenly and she shrank back from him. 'Che, you don't need to ask that question. I will stay, if you stay. I will also leave if you will leave with me. That's because I love you. You know that I love you. That I always have, since we were students and you were copying down my answers in cla.s.s.'

'You're right. I didn't need to ask,' she replied, and then: 'I wish I hadn't.'

He took the blow, rolled with it. 'I never knew what you saw in the Moth,' he said, 'but I knew what you missed in me. I've tried, Che, to make something more of myself. I've tried to patch the defects that nature gave me. I'm still a halfbreed, but I'm a magnate now. I've money, prospects. They'd kiss my feet in h.e.l.leron, if I walked in under Iron Glove colours. My hand is on the tiller of artifice.' He looked into her face, forcing her to avoid his gaze lest it scorch her. 'And I can see, though I can see it's not enough. So tell me what you want me to be, Che. Tell me what it is I'm still missing. Or is it the blood? It didn't seem to matter to you, of all people, that I was a half-caste.'

'It's not your heritage,' she said. 'Do you really think I care about that?'

'No,' he said, fiercely. 'No, I don't. I really don't. So tell me what it is that's wrong with me.'

'Oh, Totho,' she sighed, 'all this time you've been trying to make yourself into what you think I might want ... but I can barely see the friend I once knew, let alone anything beyond. You've built yourself a suit of armour for the inside as well as the out. Just listen to you now!' She felt suddenly frustrated with him. 'You're bargaining for my affection with the lives of my friends, yet you spent most of the war working for the Empire.'

'To save Salma!' he put in hotly, but she came back just as hard.

'Was it?' she demanded. 'Was that what it was? And did they never give you a chance to leave them, after that? Totho, you rail at Thalric for all the things he has done, and, yes, he has done terrible things, but at least he tried to divert his course away away from them. You have just moved from them. You have just moved towards towards and and towards towards. Totho, tell me you could not have escaped from the army, if you had wanted.'

'And what would have happened then?' he demanded. They were almost nose to nose now, an inch from drawing swords. 'I beat them in the end, Che. I beat the Empire, in Szar. What would have happened there, if I had just snuck off and left?'

The moment teetered in the balance, the weights of recollection dropping. Che had been in Myna, of course, and she had heard the news from Szar, in more detail than she needed. It had been a great victory against the Empire, but n.o.body had felt much like celebrating it, not even the Szaren.

'Szar?' she began. She had not seen the twisted bodies of the Wasp garrison, but there had been no shortage of description. An entire force of thousands, with their slaves and servants and Auxillians, dead in a single night, and in agony. The last she had heard, there was still a whole district of their city that the local Bee-kinden did not enter, for fear of the coughing sickness that might still come to cull them. They said that the air still smelled of sour death, there, when the wind was in the wrong quarter.

'Che ...'

'Szar. That was you? you?'

His face was that of a man who would do anything just to retract a few words. 'Che, you weren't there. There was nothing else ...'

She was retreating from him, back to the doorway, staring at the creature that wore her friend's face. He called her name again, but at the mere sound of it she fled from him, leaving him in the darkness of the pump room, her skin crawling at the thought of what he had done.

Amnon summoned him soon after. The defeat on the field had not managed to stifle his fierce energy. Totho felt tired just looking at him.

'You called for me, First Soldier,' the artificer said, feeling in no mood for this now. No mood at all.

'You are still in the city,' Amnon observed.

'Is that it? Is that why you sent for me?' Totho demanded. 'Yes, I am still in the city. My people are still in the city. So what are you going to do about it? Shed a little blood early, before the Scorpions come for the rest?'

'I will make use of you, if you will let me,' Amnon suggested. 'Totho, will you walk the walls with me?'

'Walk the ...? Why?'

'Because I need to understand,' the big Khanaphir said. 'I need to know what to do, Totho, and I need your wisdom to guide me.'

'Wisdom?' Totho managed to say, strangled by the need to laugh at the word. 'I've precious little wisdom, Amnon.'

'I'll take anything I can get,' Amnon said, quite seriously. 'Will you do this one thing for me before you go?'

'Of course,' Totho replied, finding that he meant it. He liked Amnon: there was some trace of commonality between them, despite their disparate cultures and histories. Both of them, at this moment, were where the metal met.

Khanaphes was gripped by panic. Totho saw people cowering inside their homes, saw groups of soldiers rus.h.i.+ng here and there, seemingly with no aim at all. Pa.s.sing over the great span of bridge that linked the two halves of the city, they heard a hollow knocking sound, distant and harmless save for the plume of dust that rose beyond the walls. Amnon started, but Totho put a hand out.

'That wasn't an attack. There's been no attack yet.'

'They are raiding all the farms, burning the fields,' Amnon spat. 'Also they know that by making us wait, they also make us fear.'

'And by launching a few rocks over the city they'll make you fear even more,' Totho agreed. 'They want you shaken up by the time they meet you hand to hand.'

'No,' Amnon said firmly, 'they simply want us to fear. That is their sport, to know that the good people of my city live in terror of them for this interval of time, before the end comes.'

From the lofty arch of the bridge they could see the city's soldiers atop the walls. Totho took his telescope out automatically, panning its lens across the battlements. The Khanaphir sentries were rus.h.i.+ng back and forth, and then he noticed a sudden haze of dust rising from between the great stones of the wall. The sound of the leadshotter's discharge came a moment later.

The walls of Khanaphes had stood a long time. They were tall and thick, built of ma.s.sive slabs of rock, curving slightly as they rose. There was a walkway along the top to allow two men to walk abreast, with stone steps leading up to the parapet every two hundred yards. Those walls would have seemed a remarkable piece of engineering even two centuries ago, let alone whenever they had actually been built. Totho knelt as he reached the top, pressing a hand to the stone to feel the grain of it. In his mind were the fortress designs that Drephos had sketched out on sc.r.a.p paper, in order to resist a siege by modern weapons. They were all planes and edges, thrusting out into the besieging force to give the widest arc of shot, and slanted to let the enemy's weapons glance off them.

'Tell me,' Amnon asked him, 'will we hold? They tell me that the Masters would never let the walls of Khanaphes fall. What do you tell me?'

Totho went to the ramparts and the sight beyond struck him hard, although it must strike any Khanaphir observing it that much harder. The Many of Nem were encamped outside, a squalid mess of tents and lean-tos against a horizon thick with smoke. They had laid waste everything that lay within a day's ride, pillaged everything worth taking. They must expect a quick siege, otherwise they will starve They must expect a quick siege, otherwise they will starve.

The artillery positions were well ensconced within the front ranks of the Scorpion horde. Clearly the Scorpions, or their Imperial masters, knew how vulnerable unattended engines could be. There was a bank of ten leadshotters, positioned quite tightly. Through his gla.s.s Totho could recognize the model as an old Imperial make that had first seen service before the Twelve-year War. It would still do the trick though.

Three rounds? No, the Khanaphir walls were too thick and solid. No, the Khanaphir walls were too thick and solid. Twelve rounds? Twelve rounds? Perhaps, yes. The stones were not properly mortared, not as a Lowlander Beetle would have built them. They were not hard, either. With a dagger's blade he could scratch deeply into them, turning stone to sand by his own tiny industry. How accurate were the Scorpion artillerists? Perhaps, yes. The stones were not properly mortared, not as a Lowlander Beetle would have built them. They were not hard, either. With a dagger's blade he could scratch deeply into them, turning stone to sand by his own tiny industry. How accurate were the Scorpion artillerists? Twenty rounds then, at most Twenty rounds then, at most.

'Your walls will not hold,' he declared, and the shudder of fear that ran through the men around him made him feel like some doomsaying prophet. 'Unless they lose the use of their engines, or are very short on ammunition, your walls will crack and then fall.'

Another single leadshotter boomed out its plume of smoke, and Totho felt the faint vibration as the shot hammered into stone. It was obviously a day of idle practice for the Scorpions, since the war host was still rea.s.sembling after a day's hard looting. If we had the full army of the city with us now, perhaps we could have broken them If we had the full army of the city with us now, perhaps we could have broken them, Totho thought. They had already left too many dead on the field, though, and hope and morale now lay out there amongst the broken weapons and the corpses. The Khanaphir did not have it in them to sally out and attack their besiegers.

'What can we do?' Amnon asked softly.

'I don't know,' Totho said. 'I'd suggest surrender but, given the enemy, I don't think that's an option.'

Later, Totho sat in the Iron Glove factora, listening to the sounds of his men packing up everything for their departure. Soon they would come for the crate he was sitting on, down here in the cellar. For now it provided a quiet place to think: about Amnon and about Che, and about what Che had said.

What if ...? It was a poisonous game. It was a game for weak people who would rather not live with the decisions they had made, or who had made no decisions at all and had found a bad end by following the river's flow. It was a poisonous game. It was a game for weak people who would rather not live with the decisions they had made, or who had made no decisions at all and had found a bad end by following the river's flow.

I have always made my own decisions. It seemed a fragile thing to be proud of but he clung to it. His past was like a string of beads, each representing a point where he could have chosen otherwise. Should I have stayed with Stenwold and Che rather than running away? Should I have stayed with Stenwold and Che rather than running away? That begged the question of 'What if Salma had gone to Tark alone, without Totho's help?' and it was unanswerable at this remove. That begged the question of 'What if Salma had gone to Tark alone, without Totho's help?' and it was unanswerable at this remove. But if I had stayed, I would have done something I would regret. I would have killed Achaeos, or else got myself killed. I could not have borne the two of them together But if I had stayed, I would have done something I would regret. I would have killed Achaeos, or else got myself killed. I could not have borne the two of them together.

The next bead was, 'What if I had not saved Salma, by selling myself to the Empire?' Salma would be dead, no what-ifs about it Salma would be dead, no what-ifs about it. But then Salma had died anyway, on some b.l.o.o.d.y battlefield. So it became just another choice he had made and that he would have to take responsibility for. Which led to Che's question of whether he could simply have taken off the shackles and fled.

It has always been so easy for Che, so clear-cut. He did not have the words to explain to her how he had found a place for himself under the black and gold flag, at the side of the maverick Colonel-Auxillian. There was nowhere in the world that was home to me, until I met Drephos There was nowhere in the world that was home to me, until I met Drephos. He could not pretend ignorance of her likely reaction to all he had done. He had done it, in fact, to try to exorcize himself from her influence. Che, his nagging conscience, his residual sense of right and wrong, just a gnat in the face of Drephos's comforting philosophy of technological advance.

But, even then, I helped. Another straw to cling to. He had saved Che from the interrogators once more, and alone this time, without any killer Mantis or Mynan resistance to help him. He had pa.s.sed the snapbow plans to the Lowlands, arming Stenwold and his allies with the fruits of Totho's own invention. He had liberated Szar.

He had liberated Szar. In doing so, he had saved the Mynan resistance, created the Three-city Alliance. He had remade the map. He, Totho, the halfbreed.

Yet she hated him for it. Even this great Right had become a wrong. And if I had killed them all with a blade, like Tisamon? Would that be right, then? And if I had killed them all with a blade, like Tisamon? Would that be right, then? It was the means, the coldly efficient means, that so horrified the woman. He could eviscerate as many Wasps as he wanted on the battlefield, but woe betide him if he preferred to use his brain. It was the means, the coldly efficient means, that so horrified the woman. He could eviscerate as many Wasps as he wanted on the battlefield, but woe betide him if he preferred to use his brain.

We use whatever tools are given to us. I am no great warrior, but is that what she'd prefer? To have me dead alongside Salma, sword in hand?

Perhaps that was indeed what she would prefer. A dead Totho of unstained character would be easier for her to file away and forget.

He heard boots on the steps leading to the cellar, and Corcoran peered down at him. 'Sir,' the Solarnese man enquired, 'how's it going down here?'

'How's the s.h.i.+p?' Totho asked him from his seat on the remaining crate.

'Every bolt tightened, ready to go, sir,' Corcoran reported, taking the last few steps down. 'The lads are wondering when we're moving out. Those Scorpions won't wait for ever before kicking this place in like an egg.'

'We should leave here,' Totho said.

Corcoran regarded him dubiously. 'Well yes, sir, that was the idea.'

'What will happen to the city, after we're gone?' asked Totho.

Corcoran stared at him. 'Same thing as if we were still here. It's not as though it was ever going to be much of a market for us. Come on, chief, give us the word. We'll leadshot their gate down, if they won't open up for us.'

Totho rested his head in his heads. 'Corcoran ...'

'Sir?'

'Are we doing the right thing, do you think?'

'By leaving? Absolutely. Staying about would be a b.l.o.o.d.y stupid thing to do, sir.' The Solarnese was beginning to sound unnerved.

'But it would be the right thing,' Totho murmured, almost to himself. 'That's how she'd she'd see it.' see it.'

They heard a heavy, slow tread above them. Meyr the Mole Cricket was negotiating the steps.

'Here you both are,' the big man said, the gloom of the cellar no barrier to his sight. 'What's this?'

'Meyr,' Totho said, standing, 'do you think we should leave?'

The Mole Cricket was now halfway down the stairs, hunching forward, yet with his back and shoulders still brus.h.i.+ng the cellar ceiling. 'I think we should,' he said carefully, but in a tone that invited further comment.

'And what do you yourself want to do?' Totho asked him.

'My people are slow to anger,' Meyr said ponderously. 'We lack the fire to make us proper fighters. Still.' He let the word sit there for a moment. 'Still, I would very much like to kill some Scorpions and Wasps. Very much so.'

And is that right? Is it right that Meyr blames himself for the death of Faighl and the others, and now wants vengeance? How good the Wasps are at teaching us their own motivations.

'Come on, now,' said Corcoran nervously, looking from one to the other.

'Send a message to the Iteration Iteration,' Totho decided, 'and tell them to stand ready. Corcoran, go yourself, have them load the smallshotters and warm the engines over.'

'Because we're going?' the Solarnese said, without much hope.

'Have every fighting man armed and armoured by dawn tomorrow. Meyr, you're in charge of that.'

'Right,' the Mole Cricket rumbled.

'I have a conversation with Amnon to finish and one he's not going to like,' Totho explained. 'When I get back, I want to see every Iron Glove man ready for war.'

He found Amnon up on the walls, of course. The Scorpion leadshotters had been idly throwing shot at the stones, or over them and into the city. Totho took a moment, on gaining the battlement, to spy out a leadshotter crew with his gla.s.s and a.s.sess their technique. The Scorpions themselves were the very essence of brutality, but he could pick out Wasp-kinden overseeing them and the savages were swifter and more practised than he would have thought.

The First Soldier was leaning on the ramparts, staring out at the enemy that he could not defeat. He glanced at Totho, then looked back at the great ramshackle chaos of the Scorpion camp.

'Come to say your farewells?' he asked. 'I shall have the Estuarine Gate lowered for you.'

'Not just yet,' Totho told him.

'Oh?' Amnon turned, barely flinching as another solitary leadshotter spoke thunder, the shot whistling high over the city.

'I have an answer,' Totho said. 'The only answer that I can give you on how to defend your city from the Many of Nem. It's not an answer that the Ministers would approve of, and I doubt you'll like it much either, but it's an answer.'

'Speak,' Amnon said, bracing himself for it.

'The Scorpions out there are not an army; they are a huge mob of thugs. A proper army has supply lines, logistics. This lot are living directly off the land, and that cannot support them long. They need a quick victory, so it follows that if you delay them long enough, perhaps two tendays at the utmost, they will not be able to sustain their attack.'

'I had thought as much.'

'Exactly. You don't need to be a tactician to see it,' Totho agreed. 'But they'll burst through these walls tomorrow or the day after. No doubt of it. You've probably already noticed a few cracks, where they've struck home.' Totho could see the truth of that in Amnon's eyes. 'So the wall will not hold, and they can keep knocking holes in it. If you put men in the breach, they can knock holes in them too. And their infantry is well suited to taking advantage of a breach, I think: fast-moving, hard-hitting. They're not men for standing in line and taking a charge, but men for breaking through s.h.i.+eld-walls and pus.h.i.+ng forward. So, the wall ceases to be a defensive a.s.set very quickly. In fact, once they've taken the wall, it becomes a disadvantage. Their crossbowmen will soon make full use of the elevation.'

Amnon nodded, taking it all in. 'So,' he asked, 'what is your answer? How do we save our city, even for a short while?'

'Abandon the western half of it,' Totho said, expecting a strong reaction. In truth, he half expected Amnon to throw him off the wall. Instead the big Beetle just twitched, as he had when the leadshotter had loosed a moment before.

'Have your soldiers go house to house, instructing everyone to evacuate the western city. Have them take every single boat to ferry people across the river, and then paddle back for more. Have them cross the bridge in their hundreds. Have them carry only what is easily to hand, and primarily whatever footstuffs they can cart. Everyone Everyone. Everyone moves east, across the river. Because the river becomes your defensive wall, Amnon, and the leadshotters cannot tear it down. There is only one bridge, and we take every single boat to the eastern bank. Barricade the bridge where I shall show you, and put your best men there to hold it, with archers on the east bank, ready to pick off any makes.h.i.+ft thing they do try and send over. That's the answer: let the river hold them off.'

'You know what you are asking me to do, how many people must be moved,' Amnon said. And then: 'The Masters would not approve.'

'I have no other answer for you,' Totho told him.

Amnon gazed out again at the sprawling host. 'I will give the orders,' he confirmed quietly.

Totho only realized then that he had not expected this man to take his suggestion. Am I become a tactician now? Am I a warleader? Am I become a tactician now? Am I a warleader? And in the shadow of those thoughts followed another one: And in the shadow of those thoughts followed another one: Would that find favour with her? Would that find favour with her?

'For the men holding the bridge, it will be hard,' Amnon said slowly.

'Put up as much of a barricade as you can. Funnel them in until a small number of your best men can stand them off,' Totho said. 'Those men will face repeated charges, crossbows, Wasp stings. They must be your best. If the Scorpions manage to force the bridge we will never hold them.'

Amnon nodded. 'I myself shall stand on the bridge,' he said simply. 'I shall ask for volunteers from my Guard to stand with me.'

Totho felt the ground lurch beneath him: no leadshot, not Amnon hurling him down, but the vertigo of his own next words getting to him. 'I shall stand beside you.'

Amnon clapped a hand to his shoulder, sending him staggering. Totho saw the degree of emotion in the man's eyes. Ah, but it is the right thing to do. She would say so, too, were she here Ah, but it is the right thing to do. She would say so, too, were she here.

'I shall give orders for the evacuation,' Amnon said. 'We shall start right away. By the morning we shall not be finished, but we shall at least have what time the walls shall buy us.'

'There are other ways of buying a little time,' Totho said. The thought was heavy on him, loaded as it was with memories of the last time, but he persevered. 'A night attack on the engines may disrupt them, buy us a few hours. If you have those available who can make the attempt.'

Amnon nodded fiercely and beckoned one of his men over.