He was pointing ahead, and now Keeton saw what he meant. The flits and their loaded sleds were nearing the west gates, ready to enter the city.
But the gates were still closed.
Atop the city walls, Edinja Orle watched the chase unfold, saw one of the four sleds and its flit brought down, and saw the others continue unimpeded as Keeton’s flit fought back against the attackers and burned away those close enough to cause trouble. She watched as a mass of attackers—too many for most armies to stop, let alone the handful of men and women seeking the sanctuary of the city—streamed down off the bluff. She felt the desperation in the hearts of the pursued, knowing that only moments separated them from either safety or death.
She waited for the gates to open.
Cinla stood beside her. The moor cat had returned from tracking Arling Elessedil, discouraged by the crush of citizens swarming the streets. Cinla had sought to resume the hunt twice once the crowds had been broken up and disbanded, blending in with her surroundings, becoming a part of the buildings and streets as she hunted. But the scent of her quarry had been buried by hundreds of others, and she could not pick it out.
She had conveyed all this to Edinja, for they could share a single mind when necessary. Now she sat beside her mistress, calm and steadfast.
Down the wall’s walkway perhaps a hundred feet away, Tinnen March was dispatching runners to all four quarters of the city, summoning reinforcements to the west wall, shoring up his defenses—realizing, perhaps, that the danger he was facing was much greater than he had first supposed. He shouted and gestured, and men raced everywhere at his command.
But the gates did not open to those outside the wall.
Edinja had seen enough. She stormed down the walkway in fury, the white-hot heat of her displeasure clearly visible as she neared the Federation army commander. She could feel Cinla following a step behind, her great head swaying from side to side.
“What are you doing?” she screamed at March, unable to help herself. “Open the gates!”
He gave her one swift glance. “It is too late for them. The enemy is too close. I cannot risk it.”
“I order you to open those gates, Commander!” Her small body shook with rage. “Now!”
He gave her a scathing look. “I command the military in this city, not you.” He turned, beckoning to a handful of guards. “See that the Prime Minister is placed safely away until she calms herself …”
He never finished. Edinja made a sweeping motion with one arm, and the guards tumbled away. Then she snatched Tinnen March by the front of his military jacket and marched him to the edge of the wall.
“You command at my pleasure, Commander,” she hissed.
Then she lifted him off his feet with what witnesses later would describe as superhuman strength and threw him over the wall.
He was still screaming when she turned to the soldiers who had watched it all happen and shouted, “Now get those gates open!”
Outside the walls, the rescued soldiers were gathered in a knot before the gates, having abandoned the sleds after the flits had been forced to cut them loose. Daylight was fading quickly. First Response still flew overhead, offering what protection it could, making wild sorties into the teeth of the attacking army as it swarmed over the grasslands and approach road, watching in horror as the enemy overran watchtower after watchtower on its way to the walls of the city.
Keeton was searching the walls for some sign of activity near the gates—anything that would have indicated they were about to be opened—when a body came flying over the wall. It was a man in Federation military uniform, but that was all he could tell. He watched in shock as the man tumbled earthward and struck with such ferocious impact that there was no question about whether he still lived.
“Who was that?” Wint whispered.
Seconds later the gates opened, and the soldiers trapped outside poured through.
Wint took the two-man out onto the approach road for one more run at the attackers as they surged across the grasslands and past the watchtowers on their way to the wall, giving the rest of the team an opportunity to cross the walls and manage a landing inside. Then he swung the craft about and raced after them.
Back on the ground, below the west wall, hundreds of soldiers were flooding through the open grounds fronting the gates, heading for the battlements. Weapons were being unhooded and swung into place. Huge fire launchers were charged and rail slings loaded. The gates were sealed anew, the locks set, and the crossbar dropped back into place. Dust and shouts rose into the air—a wild cacophony of sound that smothered Keeton’s attempts to tell Wint what he wanted next from First Response. All around him, the soldiers of the Federation army were preparing to defend Arishaig.
He was barely out of the two-man when one of Tinnen March’s adjutants rushed up to him. “The Prime Minister requests your presence on the wall immediately!” he blurted, forgetting to salute until he had finished delivering his message. “Sir.”
Keeton glanced up, then nodded. “Who fell off the wall?”
The adjutant couldn’t seem to get any more words out. He saluted again, a quick sharp act, and rushed away.
Keeton managed to tell Wint what he wanted from First Response and then set off for the top of the wall. When he got there, he found Edinja Orle waiting for him.
“Commander Keeton,” she greeted him. Her words were sharp-edged, but her voice steady. The big moor cat Cinla was sitting next to her, watching him. “Commander March has been relieved of his command. You are his replacement. The defense of the city is in your hands.”
Keeton stared. “I don’t want the job,” he said finally.
“Well, you don’t have a choice.” She stepped close, lowering her voice so that only he could hear. “Tinnen March panicked. He was not going to open the gates. He was going to leave you and the others out there to die. I saved your life.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s who went over the wall?”
“He deserved what he got. I can’t have cowards and fools leading the army at a time like this. You and I don’t much like each other and we’ve not gotten along well, but I respect your abilities and your courage. I hope you respect that my responsibility as Prime Minister and leader of the people of Arishaig requires that I make the best choices possible when I am required to do so. This is one of those times.”
“I just don’t—”
She stopped him with a sharp hiss. “This isn’t up for debate. We don’t have time to argue about it. You are being given command of the army. You are being charged with the safety of the city and its people. Would you refuse to do your duty when so many lives are at stake, Commander?”
Then she pivoted and walked off without a backward glance, the moor cat trailing after her with long, loping strides.
The demons did not attack immediately, as it had appeared they would. Instead, they stopped just short of the closest pair of watchtowers, perhaps five hundred yards from the west gates, and stood howling and screaming at the walls of the city. The sound was deafening, and it continued uninterrupted, the creatures of the demon army massing as if held back by an invisible barrier and giving vent to their frustration and rage.
Shortly after sunset, a second wave came down from the heights to join the first, doubling the size of the attacking force and creating an ocean of bodies that churned and thrashed amid the tumult of shrieks and roars, with an occasional ongoing surge threatening a breakout that would take them to the walls, sending shudders down the spines of the Federation soldiers watching from the battlements.
Keeton used this time to meet with his divisional commanders and prepare a coordinated defense. Saddled with a responsibility he could not morally or emotionally refuse, he had resolved to do the best he could in the way the soldiers in his family had always done. Whatever he might think of Edinja Orle, he could not ignore her charge to defend the city of Arishaig and its people. He was a soldier first and always. If he was called upon to serve where the cause was right and the need obvious, he must accept it.