As they topped the last rise, Toede noted that the low-slung sun had set the golden fields alight with a crimson hue. Ahead, the city hugged the coast, as if seeking consolation from the blood-red bay.
Jugger only growled and muttered, "Walls." Then the front of the creature bucked upward as the rear roller bit into the road, and they lurched forward in a blur of red-hued speed and hobgoblin curses.
Two hay wains and a traveler's pushcart later, they burst through the Southwest Gate, sending splinters of both the heavy oak doors and the two guards raining in all directions. It was late in the day, and those street merchants who had stayed late to make one more sale, or those townsfolk who tarried behind to eke out one last bargain had just enough time to look up, startled, as the runaway siege engine hurtled down on them, leaving a wake of smashed bodies, broken ironwork, and crushed cobblestones. Jugger's body count put his take in the low seven hundreds.
"Gate!" bellowed Toede. "Gate to the east!"
Toede meant the Rock Gate leading to the headland, but the juggernaut swung a hard right (through several not-abandoned buildings), and toward the Southeast Gate. Given that Jugger was a stranger in town, it was an understandable mistake.
As a result, Toede and his infernal device went slashing along the inner perimeter of the wall Gildentongue had erected almost a year earlier, taking out interior buttresses and supports, then weaving into the city again as the wall crashed behind them. Toede wondered if the creature would get full credit for those killed indirectly by collapsing buildings and crushing walls, or only partial. Figuring the politics of the Abyss, it was probably all or nothing.
The two guards at the Southeast Gate had enough time to hear the disaster approaching. One fled his position, the other, the one with a comet-shaped scar on his face, turned to gape and became number seven-six-three as the juggernaut crashed back through the gate and found itself outside the city.
Toede beat on the unyielding surface of Jugger's body and screamed. "No, we're heading the wrong direction!"
Jugger rumbled, "You said the eastern gate."
"North and east," screamed Toede, his face turning pink. "The gate to the upper city, to the headland!"
"Right, hang on," roared Jugger. "I'll take care of it and pick up the spare as well…"
The guard who ran was paralleling the southern edge of the wall, and shortly was made one with the city wall he was charged with protecting. The wall itself bulged inward and flew apart in a cascade of mortar and loose stone.
Poor workmanship, thought Toede, as the first measly arrows of defense started peppering Jugger's hide.
Resistance had appeared, finally, in the form of a unit of crossbowmen, who took up position beneath a statue of Lord Hopsloth. The crossbowmen were trying to pick off the "driver" of the device and were protected by some (very nervous) spearmen in the front line.
Toede flung himself down on the top of the juggernaut, and shouted, "Take out the statue, too!"
Toede did not see the statue explode, but he certainly heard it, combined with a rain of spears, and Jugger's declaration, "Eight-zero-five!"
Toede grabbed one of the spears and started using it to steer, banging on one side of the juggernaut, then the other. He soon learned that Jugger took notice of buildings in the same manner as humans noticed wildflowers when charging across a field, and if he tapped too early (or late), the corner of a building would disappear in a shower of masonry.
Another unit of crossbows and spears in front of the Rock Gate raised the total to eight-fifty-something, and Toede began worrying that Jugger would hit its quota long before Toede reached his own quarry. Then he would be left alone in the middle of the destruction, with some very angry and organized citizens surrounding him.
The Rock Gate was made of sterner and older stuff than the new walls, and Jugger almost slowed as it crumbled into fragments. Now the troops were mobilizing, but morale evaporated as quickly as mobilization when the humans in the rear echelons saw the humans in front reduced to red, splotchy pulps in the cobblestone.
Toede banged the right side of the device, and they swung toward Toede's old manor. They charged up the front steps (reducing them to a gravel slope in the process). Then, all of a sudden, a powerful explosion rocked Jugger and sent Toede sprawling to the pavement. He felt something give in his ankle, but skittered clear, so when Jugger tipped and fell, thankfully, Toede was not underneath.
Thunder echoed in Toede's ears. He raised himself on the spear to see what happened. Jugger was on its side, swaying back and forth, its great wheels spinning helplessly in the air. A small collection of humans in vestments, gathered by the north wing of the manor house, had been the source of the effective attack.
Wizards. Hopsloth had no true priestly powers, so like the old frauds and charlatans of the prewar days, he had hired spellcasters who drew their powers from impure sources. Pity, too, because real priests were unlikely to have the ability to summon and fling magical lightning bolts.
The wizards walked slowly toward the tipped, rocking juggernaut, behind a wall of spearmen who showed uncommon sense by not scattering in fear. Several were congratulating each other as they neared, as if the surrounding carnage were nothing more than an everyday field exercise. Toede thought again of the dead, beached whale, and the pygmies who came out to watch it bake in the sun.
None of the wizards or spearmen noticed Toede yet. Toede saw that Jugger's rocking had become more pronounced, not less. The infernal device was starting to move in wider arcs. Leaning on the spear as a staff, Toede hobbled up the stairs of the manor, knowing what would come next.
The mages didn't notice that the juggernaut was figuring out how to right itself until they were about twenty paces away. Actually, the mages regarded the rocking as one more interesting phenomenon, and it was the spearmen who realized what the rocking truly meant. They started to fall away in panic as the last great swing of the machine's body brought the rollers back in contact with pavement. A jet of cobblestones shot backward as Jugger stood up and charged the astonished crowd.
Half the spearmen fell instantly under the massive wheels, as well as some of the more powerful (and incautious) wizards. One spread his arms and began to rise in the air, but Jugger's sharpened top jaw caught him, and only the upper torso continued to float upward, raining blood beneath. A few of the mages in the rear ran, as Jugger pursued.
It's in the nine hundreds now, thought Toede. He shouted to Jugger, but to no avail. Eventually, Jugger would realize no one was pounding on its back, but likely not before several more buildings were leveled. And if it hit a barracks, well, that would spell the end of his cursed presence on this plane of existence.
Toede limped up the steps to the double doors of his manor, picking up a discarded and uncrushed dagger from the smashed body of its previous owner. He jammed the dagger into his belt. He estimated the length of the spear and the width of the door, and pried open one of the door's twin panels.
"I'm home, dear," he bellowed into the manor.
With the door forced open, he could see the renovations made by Lord Hopsloth. The entire rear section of the building and his sacred throne had been lost in the flames and /or removed entirely.
All that could be seen was a stone scaffolding lined with plates of rare sheet glass. The front hallway was now a balcony, with a long staircase leading down into a pool, surrounded by fronds and other plants. The sun had set behind Toede, so the pool was as dark and inky as a sleeping octopus.