Heirs of the Blade_ Shadows of the Apt_ Book Seven - Adiran Tchaikovsky [105]
‘What happened when the Scorpions reached there?’ Angved asked.
‘Not that many of them did, sir. A surprising amount tried to turn and fight, again and again. They were desperate to avoid being driven there. I’d estimate no more than forty or fifty of them reached the first stones.’
‘And then?’
The captain’s expression was that of a man without much imagination being faced with something that troubled him nonetheless. ‘Screaming, sir.’
Angved frowned, and Varsec murmured, ‘Does that pass for a report in the army, these days?’
‘I apologize, sir. It was difficult to make out what happened, and those of my men I’ve questioned tell contradictory stories. The Scorpions scattered amongst the buildings, losing all cohesion, as if each was looking for a different place to hide. Then we heard them start screaming, just some of them, then others. None of them for very long. I did my best to keep some in sight, but amongst the ruins it was difficult. Many of the structures there seem relatively intact, some almost completely so, and I thought I saw . . .’ There was a pause, signifying a soldier trying to couch his experience in permitted language. ‘Movement, sir. Terribly swift movement between buildings. Something large and fast. Others have reported the same . . .’ His tone indicated that there was more, but that it would require prompting.
‘Speak, Captain,’ Angved duly ordered.
‘One squad hasn’t returned, sir. Sergeant Stasric and his people didn’t come back with us.’
‘You passed on my orders for nobody to enter the ruins?’ Angved asked sternly.
‘I did, sir, word for word.’
‘What’s this Stasric like, would you say?’
A diplomatic pause. ‘He is a man who seizes opportunities as they come, sir. He has been reprimanded in the past.’
Angved and Varsec exchanged glances. ‘Any other casualties, Captain?’ the aviator asked.
‘Eleven men lost, sir, all to enemy crossbows,’ the captain confirmed. ‘Twenty-one in total, including Stasric’s men.’
Twenty-one dead to six hundred of theirs, Angved considered. A mere skirmish, but the numbers would look good when sent home. ‘Have your men stay ready, since we can expect further attacks by the Many. They’re a stupid, brutal people.’
Midnight was approaching when the watch lieutenant awoke Angved, sounding panicked. ‘Something’s outside the wall, sir.’
It took a blinking and blurred moment of recollection before the Engineer remembered where he was and what he was doing there. For a moment he had thought he was back accompanying the first Khanaphir expedition, making war on the city on behalf of the Many of Nem, rather than the other way around.
‘The Scorpions are back?’ he demanded, shrugging his way into a leather cuirass and locating his sword.
‘Sir, we’re . . . we’re not sure what it is. The sentries don’t think so, sir.’
‘We’re under attack?’
‘Not yet, sir.’
Angved sighed, putting him down as the sort of overexcitable type who should never be left in charge of a night watch, for the good of everyone else’s sleep. Still, now that he was awake, it seemed prudent to go and investigate what had spooked the watchmen. He dragged a woollen cloak over his shoulders to keep out the night chill, and shouldered his way out of his tent.
There was barely any moon, and only the torches and lanterns of the camp repelled the night. Angved tugged his cloak closer about him and let the lieutenant lead him to the walls, where a flick of his wings got him up on to the parapet.
‘I don’t see anything,’ he grumbled, scowling into the darkness.
‘Report, soldier,’ the lieutenant instructed, stepping back and patently hoping thus to disappear from the angry major’s notice.
‘There’s something big out there, sir,’ one of the sentries said promptly. ‘It’s been back and forth three times now.’
‘An animal,’ suggested Angved dismissively.
‘The only glimpse I had of it, it seemed like a man, sir. Or at least a little like a man. Most of the other sentries have seen it,