Several dozen faces watched me blandly. Goblin asked, "You didn't see anybody?"
"There's nothing out there to see, old man."
"Ah. And you got here alive, too." Which remark left me to understand that there were dire traps out there, held in abeyance only by the alert decision-making of sentries I not only overlooked but whose presence I never suspected.
"All I can say to that is, somebody must have taken a bath sometime since the turn of the century." The same could not be said for most of the crowd inside that shelter. Which might be the reason the roof and walls were so porous. "This is my new friend Suvrin. He was the captain of the local garrison. I blew in his ear and he decided he wanted to help us so we would go away before the Protector shows up and makes life tough for everybody."
Somebody in back said, "You could blow in mine and—ow! What the fuck you hit me for, Willow?"
Vajra the Naga said, "Knock it off. Swan, keep your hands to yourself. Vigan, I don't want to hear your mouth again. You should know better. What've you guys done to get ready to knock over that tower over by the Shadowgate?"
Nobody said a word.
"You guys obviously did something while you were waiting around." I gestured at our surroundings. "You managed to build a house. Badly. Or a barracks. But you didn't do anything else? There're no scouts out? No planning got done? No preparations got made? Was there something going on that I haven't heard about yet?"
Goblin sidled up. In an uncharacteristic tone he murmured, "Don't press these issues. Now isn't the time. Just tell people what to do and send them out to do it."
I trust the little wizard's wisdom occasionally. "Sit down. Here's what we'll do. Dig out whatever fireball launchers we have left. Vigan, pick ten men. Carry the heaviest launcher yourself. The others can carry lighter ones. If there aren't enough to go around, bring bows. We'll go take care of this right now. Vigan, choose your team."
The man who had made the mistake of irritating me rose. In a surly tone he named his helpers. Chances were all of them had irritated him sometime recently. It rolls downhill.
In the few minutes it took Vigan to get ready, I had the others tell me things they thought I ought to know.
63
I had the men encircle the little fort. We carried torches and made no effort to sneak. Per instructions, Vigan carried the heaviest piece of bamboo. It had an interior diameter of three inches. He told me, "There's supposed to be only a couple, three balls left in this one."
"That ought to be enough. Right here should be fine." A good archer with a strong bow might cause us trouble but those were exceeding rare in modern Taglian armies. Mogaba was a warrior. He believed real men got in close, where they could get splattered with each other's blood when they fought. It was a blind spot we had exploited more than once during the Kiaulune wars and would exploit again until he figured it out.
Goblin shuffled into position behind us. Tobo did, too. They said nothing, which must have been a trial for the boy. He talked in his sleep.
"What do I do?" Vigan asked.
"Let them have one. Through the stonework right above the gate." Louder, I said, "Stand fast. Nobody do anything until I tell you."
The first two times Vigan turned his hand release crank, nothing happened.
"Is it empty?" I asked.
"It's not supposed to be."
Goblin advised, "Try again, then. It's been over ten years since it was used. Maybe it just needs to be loosened up."
I mused, "I'll bet nobody's bothered to keep the mechanism clean. And you folks wondered why I wanted to hire an armorer. Go ahead. Crank it again. Carefully, so you don't lose your aim."
Whack! Crackle-crackle-crackle-sizzle! into the distance. The fireball ripped right through the little fortification's two outside walls and whatever lay between them. Stone steamed and ran. The scarlet ball wobbled through the air for several miles more, gave up the last of its momentum, gradually darkened as it drifted to earth beyond the ruins of Overlook.
"Move to the left a few yards, drop your aiming point five feet, then do it again."
Vigan was having fun now. There was a bounce to his step as he moved to his new position. This time it took only one extra turn of the crank to get the fireball launched.
A blistering, lime-colored ball ripped through the fortification. It hit something significant inside. It had almost no energy left when it appeared on the far side.
A gout of steam blew out the top of the tower. "Must've gotten a water barrel," I said. Water and the fireballs made a wicked combination resulting in storms of superheated steam. "Suvrin, where are you?" Two fireballs should have gotten their attention inside, should have gotten the survivors to thinking. Now I could begin placing my shots. "Suvrin! Have you ever been inside that rockpile?"
The fat man came forward reluctantly. When he was close by me, his face was in the light. The garrison inside would remember him. He wanted to lie to me, too, I could see. But he did not have the courage. "Yes."
"What's the layout? It doesn't look like it could be that complicated."
"It isn't. Animals and storage on the ground floor. They can pile up stuff behind the gate so you can't knock it in. They live on the second floor. It's just one big room. There's a stove for cooking and pallets for sleeping and racks of weapons and that's about it."
"And the roof is basically just a fighting platform, right? Wait a minute, Vigan. Don't spend any more fireballs than we have to. Let them think for a while now. Maybe they'll give up. They know I didn't hurt Suvrin's men. Tobo, circle around and tell all the men that if they have to launch a fireball, we need it to go through the second level. Preferably low. They'll probably get down on the floor when death starts coming through."
"Can I shoot one of those things, Sleepy?"
"Get the message out first." I watched him scoot off. He did not expose himself unnecessarily. Faces could be seen occasionally behind the archers' embrasures over yonder. A couple of arrows had come out and fallen harmlessly. I told Goblin, "If anybody had been paying attention, we'd have the place mapped down to the last cot and table and we'd know exactly where to aim every fireball to get the best effect."
"You're absolutely right again. Just as you always are. Be quiet for a second. There's something going on here. Those men aren't as scared as they should be."
As he spoke, I glimpsed a face peeking over the parapet. A moment later the white crow plummeted out of the night. It knocked the leather helmet off the soldier.
I yelled, "Everybody wake up! They're about to pull something!"
Goblin had started muttering already. He was doing something odd with his fingers.
Men jumped up atop the little fort. Each had something in hand, ready to throw. A half-dozen fireballs squirted their way without my approval. One grenadier went down but not before he launched his missile.
Glass, I saw. Same type One-Eye had used to make firebombs, years ago. We still had a few of those, too. But throwing firebombs at us out here would be pointless. We were too far away to be reached.
"Aim low!" I yelled. "Shadows coming!" That was not a shout that had been heard for an age but it was one the veterans remembered and could respond to without ever thinking.
Goblin was already wobbling across the slope in as near a sprint as his old bones could manage, still muttering and wiggling his fingers. Pink sparks leaped between his fingers and slithered around amongst his few remaining hairs. He grabbed a skinny little bamboo pole from one of the men. It had been painted with black stripes, meaning that its dedicated purpose was use against shadows.