Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [103]
Setting up their machinery where they had could not but be viewed as provocation by the Many, and Angved was surprised only that it had taken the locals three clear days to put a force together. Of course, the Many aren’t that ‘many’ any more, not after the Khanaphes debacle. Not only had the Scorpions failed to take the city, despite the Empire handing them every advantage, but they had ended up getting a few thousand of their warriors killed, which was a serious blow to their overall population. And in the end that’s worked out nicely.
Extending his glass, he put his eye to it and let his gaze rake the sandscape, watching the host of Scorpion-kinden advance determinedly, with stragglers still coming out of the dunes to catch up with them. Angved reckoned that there might be perhaps six hundred, a sizeable force indeed, almost three times that of the Wasp Light Airborne currently ranged against them. The Nemean tactics were plain: they were fanning out in a loose crescent already, obviously intending to sweep away anything that stood in their path before pillaging the camp, destroying, killing and stealing whatever presented itself.
The camp itself was not overly ready to oblige them. The Wasps had assembled a travelling fort, the sort of ready-made fortifications that had served the Second Army so well on its march to Collegium during the war. The walls that the soldiers had fitted together were angled, barbed with stakes, defendable by a fraction of the soldiers available, and easily large enough to encompass the drilling and pumping engines. Angved had discussed the best means of defence with the captain in charge of the Airborne, however, and it had been agreed that cringing behind walls was not the Imperial way.
Two-thirds of their Airborne were now standing in loose ranks between the camp and the Scorpions, and Angved knew that they would look like a pitiful force to the eyes of the locals, even those who had fought alongside Wasps at Khanaphes. The Scorpion force was already breaking up into individual war bands, he noticed, the main thrust gaining speed as it rushed for the camp’s defenders, but substantial numbers breaking off left and right, looking to encircle their enemy and fall on them from all sides. Angved noted a remarkable amount of cavalry there – or rather insectry, as the proper term went, for horses were unknown in the Nem. Given his choice of animals, a scorpion would never have been his chosen mount – or any beast that might impale the back of his head if he had to rein it in suddenly. However, the Many of Nem had long ago designed a sort of offset saddle to put them out of harm’s way, and now a full score of these creatures were scuttling along on either flank, not much faster than a running man, but considerably more dangerous.
‘They make quite a show, don’t they,’ Varsec remarked mildly. Angved glanced down to see that he had sketched a bristling dark stain across the desertscape that he had already pencilled out: no details but just a riot of aggressive motion worked into the simple lines of the drawing.
‘A show is all they’ll make,’ Angved declared.
‘I see more than a few crossbows.’
The engineer shrugged. ‘They have no idea, none at all.’
Abruptly, in almost perfect unison, the Wasp soldiers out beyond the walls were airborne. No doubt a few crossbow quarrels were even now winging their way, but the Scorpion-kinden had no experience of hitting targets in the air, and it was unlikely that any of them would be learning any useful lessons here for the future. The Imperial force split off into four groups, as the drill required. Two detachments flew left and right, in order to threaten the Scorpions’ own flank, and the balance ended up in two clusters behind the charging mass of the Many. A good two-thirds of the Scorpions ignored them and continued on towards