Tynan gestured for him to continue. The first bomb fell, released too soon and impacting out in the earthworks. There was always someone too keen or too nervous, amongst the enemy. The growl of the Farsphex engines was all around them, too: Bergild’s pilots lifting into the air to do what they could. The numbers were stacked against them, though, and if they tried too hard they would find themselves shot down. Their game of feint and threat was growing more and more difficult, and most of the time Collegium could spare a score of Stormreaders to ward them off, whilst the rest got to work on the army.
And the Second Army was still spreading itself thin, but when the order came to press the actual attack, the Wasps would have to gather their soldiers, and then the bombing would begin in earnest. At this rate it seemed touch and go whether they could get close to the walls at all, given all the Collegiate artillery out there. And when they did, how long would they have to sit under bombardment before the ramparts could be taken or the wall breached?
Too long, was the thought nobody dared voice, for Captain Vrakir and his Red Watch constantly stalked through the army with their Imperial writ, just waiting for someone to express doubts about the Empress’s plans.
‘This airship,’ Tynan spat out, over the sound of the bombs.
‘Bergild and I, we calculate it’ll be in sight by late dawn tomorrow — and believe me, the Collegiates won’t miss it. That’s the other thing: Vrakir’s ordered all our fliers made ready for it — our artificers have been busy brewing up that muck that their Captain Nistic gave them the recipe for — and it’s nothing I recognize, I can tell you. Stinks, though, sir. Nobody wants a bed near where they’re boiling it.’
‘And you’re confident this will work, this scheme of theirs?’
‘No, sir.’ Oski looked profoundly unhappy, enough so that the bomb that now impacted close enough to shake the ground beneath them barely made him flinch. ‘Sir, this is outside my profession, and I have no idea at all. But we all know we’ve got nothing else.’
‘Too true,’ Tynan agreed moodily. ‘So, tell me about the walls. What have we got left that will put a dent in them?’
‘The walls themselves? Nothing reliable unless we can undermine then and pack the tunnel with explosive. And I reckon those walls go down a way, too. The gate, I think we have a chance against if we’re left free to work. I can adapt some leadshotters as ramming engines, and they should get through it if we can bring them to bear. Other than that. . well, the Sentinel handlers reckon that their machines might be up to it, but I’m not convinced. It’s not what they’re built for, and I just don’t know their specifications well enough.’
‘Get the ramming engines ready,’ Tynan told him. ‘Do what you can.’ Another explosion nearby left a fine mist of dirt sifting down on them.
‘I reckon we’ll receive at least one attack from their fliers overnight, if they’ve any sense,’ Oski ventured. ‘I’ll have the ground crew ready to refuel and patch up the Farsphex, once they’re down from that. Then it’s down to the chemical artificers and that stink of theirs.’
Tynan was not looking at him, nor at the wheeling orthopters, but instead somewhere off and away, towards the walls of Collegium, so that eventually Oski had to prompt him, ‘Sir?’
‘Do what you can,’ the general repeated. He looked as if he was trying on the face of his own corpse: a general faced with the choice of sending thousands of his soldiers into a catastrophic attack, or else disobeying an order. Then he gestured for one of his officers. ‘Send out messengers. The advance commences at dawn, battle order unchanged.’ Then, more thoughts spoken aloud. ‘If their fliers are likely to be occupied with this airship, even for a moment, we’ll make use of that time.’
Awkwardly, Oski backed away, and turned at a respectful distance to fly off and get his hands dirty, because some hard and absorbing engineering was just what he needed to chase the image of General Tynan’s face from his mind.
The Vekken were all within Collegiate walls now, and nobody had complained about it. That seven hundred of the city’s oldest enemy were suddenly being welcomed with open arms, and nobody — not anybody — had stood up and remarked on the fact, was perhaps the most telling sign of how the world had changed.
There had been word from Sarn, too, but nothing good. The Eighth Army was not as far advanced as the Second, but there was only so much the Sarnesh could do to slow it, and they would inevitably clash soon. With the Mantis question still unanswered, who would prevail remained anybody’s guess.
And then there’s the other aspect of the Sarnesh. Both Laszlo and Balkus had tried to corner him on the subject of Tactician Milus and the liberties he took, but Stenwold had waved them both away. After all, there was nothing he could do.
Laszlo was kicking about the city, sulking, but he would get over it. He was probably commiserating with the rest of the Tidenfree crew even now. The ship itself remained in harbour, given that the Empire had precious little way to strike at it, but the former pirates would be taking their leave soon, Stenwold knew. As for Balkus and Sperra, for all he knew, they were forming a Princep government in exile or something similarly impolitic.
Or they don’t have anywhere else to turn but to call on me. An unhappy thought, given that he had nothing for them. After the war, we can sort it all out. Although Stenwold had an uncomfortable feeling that, if Sarn decided to take control of Princep now, the Ants would not be so easily dislodged later.
The Second Army had held off, still spread out and hard to damage with bombs; also still just outside artillery range — a distance established after a few incautious Imperials came too close and Madagnus showed them the new teeth the city had. Waiting for something. . Or perhaps Tynan was just frozen with indecision, knowing how bad his position was. But Stenwold did not believe that.
‘Maker.’
It was after dark now, but he had plenty of paperwork to keep him up, enough to fill the time until this diminutive figure slouched into his current office, still wearing grease-dirty pilot’s leathers, with a chitin helm and goggles hanging from her belt.
‘Taki,’ he nodded.
The Solarnese woman looked worn out, but then she was well known for pushing herself far further than any of the pilots who served under her. She found a footstool and sat down on it, and Stenwold poured her a bowl of wine.
She took it in both hands and sipped, wrinkling up her face. ‘Maker, back home the only way you’d find wine this bad is by pissing it out after a heavy night.’
‘It’s all I’ve got left. There’s a city-wide shortage. We’ve asked the Tseni if they could ship some in, but apparently they don’t drink it off the Atoll Coast.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘We’ve had some interrupted harvests, what with. . everything, you know. A few years that won’t have a vintage. What did you find?’
‘Nothing,’ she told him tiredly. ‘I went up the coast, halfway to Tark, I swear. No reinforcements, nothing coming in by sea, no automotives. . not even a supply airship. The only thing is if maybe they’ve got another twenty Farsphex coming from somewhere — and they could get here overnight. We’ve got the Great Ear listening out for their engines, if they do. But nothing yet, Stenwold.’
She tried the wine again, and forced down a throat-full. ‘Not got anything to eat, have you? I came straight here.’
‘I appreciate it.’ Stenwold had some bread and goat’s cheese left, and shoved it across his desk towards her. ‘What about their army?’
‘They’ll come for you tomorrow, I reckon,’ Taki confirmed. ‘They’re still all over the place, but by evening we could see how each detachment of them was pulling itself together, forming up. Maybe they’ll try a night attack, but I know that the Companies and the artillery are ready for that. We’ve got lights all along the wall and people watching the air, I think — and an extra guard on the gatehouse just in case. And it’s not as if they could really sneak up on us.’