It was becoming difficult to tell the difference between the ashes and the snow flurries. The snow Aurie trudged through were streaks of brown and black through shades of white and red on her way to the steps out of the bailey and up onto the wall.
Days were flowing together beneath the smoke from the fires raging across the forests that had been a mainstay since she had come to Talkro as a young woman. It filled the air, covered the sky in drifts through the clouds, so thick that if the sun were shining through the raging blizzard, she would never know. If not for the way that the torches were constantly fluttering sideways in the wind that pushed her nearly to toppling over when she was within the corridor between the two gates, she wouldn’t know that it was still over them except from the cold forced her to hug the furs that covered her from helmet to boots.
Braziers were every few paces along the wall, fed by huddled villagers out of log piles that were nearly depleted between them. Others were passing logs and splintered pieces of wooden debris up lines to be added to the piles. She was careful not to block their path, turning sideways to allow those carrying freshly re-fletched arrows up the steps past her. They reached the top and slowed to crouch down before going further. She, too, crouched down as she reached the top of the wall. Arrows weren’t reaching the walls. Not yet. But javelins had a habit of catching the unsuspecting peeping head, and that had been enough to make everyone keep hunched over as they made their way across the wall walks. Knights and soldiers alike were hunched over, only peeking between the tall merlons to loose their own arrows across the embrasures for a single second or less, and still some were struck with those javelins now and again.
Aurie reached the steps to the tower and drew in a breath to steady herself. It was always hard for her. Not only was it higher than she liked, but the steps were thinner than any others going up the roof of the Hall and had less grip. They weren’t meant to be walked on as often. Also, the smoke was drifting thickest up here. It rolled over the tower as if it were on fire, too. Instead of walking, she crawled up it once she had sucked in enough courage to do so.
“…Of course I heard about the Ob River crossing!” Qasim sounded irritated, offended by something maybe, when she came in through a haze of smoke that stung her eyes and made her cough.
She ducked down once she was within the little tower to find that Draka, Qasim, and Enya, were sitting around a wide parchment with lines and small painted figurines set on it. The corners of the parchment were curling up while it was held down by a gauntlet on one side and one of Enya’s knives on the other. The brazier in the corner between Enya and Draka sizzled when Enya threw the stem of whatever she had finished eating into it.
Draka had one leg curled under him and the other with the knee bent for him to rest an elbow on so that his hand dangled as he shook his head at Qasim. Enya looked like she was lounging, sitting sideways with her head propped on one of her hands. Qasim sat cross-legged near the door. A lantern was set beside him to light what they were looking at. Aurie slid to beside Enya, sitting cross-legged like Qasim.
“Sosnevka was a mistake, everyone knows that! Your mistake, if I remember correctly,” Qasim was glaring at Draka.
“What’d I miss?” Aurie leaned to whisper in Enya’s ear.
“They’re still deciding who’s prick is bigger,” Enya shrugged, picking her teeth. “Draka’s pretty calm, still. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Draka wrote something on a stack of papers beside him and raised a brow to Qasim on a face that was otherwise unchanged.
Qasim rolled his eyes after reading it. “They will come at us from the north, I promise you! They know that we’re most vulnerable there. We can hold the fishery, turn it into a keep and resupply it from the port. That would keep control of the northern half of the lake and hold them off while the trenches…”
“How’s the little one?” Enya had a warmth in her grin.
Aurie returned it, catching a gleam in the fleeting glance Draka sent her way, “He’s doing well. We were finally able to get Melissa some help now that we have her in Nina’s apartment, away from all the chaos of the Hall. The Queen has taken up much of that responsibility, too. A good distraction, I s’pose.”
“And, any news about Maud?” Enya and Draka shared looks.
Qasim jabbed his finger on the map in front of them, “If you’ll let me send at least a full cohort—the last of the Anatolians, perhaps—to hold the fishery, we can build fortifications while we still have time. Please, trust me on this. If we don’t take this opportunity, we will be fighting them in that port within minutes after they seize the shore again.”
Draka let out a long sigh and motioned for Enya to intervene.
“Nothing yet,” Aurie said hurriedly as Enya sat up.
“The port is enclosed,” Enya moved her finger along a square drawn on the parchment.
Aurie blinked when she realized what it was they were looking at. It was a map. Why didn’t she realize that before now? She tried not to let her embarrassment show as she began to see what each line represented. The Hall, the bailey, the shores of the lake, the bridge, the village, its buildings, the trenches, everything to the canals and the hills. And then, she understood what the figurines were when she saw Draka move one away from the drawing of the fishery back to the drawing of the first trench across the bridge. They were the cohorts. Blue for their own, red for the Saint Olgas. Rectangles for the footmen, she understood when she saw those on the trenches. The triangular ones were the tall trebuchets. The half-circles were the archers because they were on the walls. Squares were the catapults. And circles were the cavalry…or Paladins, she couldn’t tell which. There was only one blue one, within the bailey, but more than she wanted to count all around the edges of the map.
“They would have to ram it to get in,” Enya pointed at the port gate, “And they would have to know where to hit. The only one who knows where the weak point of that gate is Cleric Brandon, and he’s not one to allow for there to be one. They can try all they want, but they’d be better off trying to climb the wall than getting into our port.”
Draka nodded.
Qasim leaned over the map with a bounce of his finger on it, “They swam under the defenses of the walls at Rostov. What’s to stop them from doing that?” He turned to Draka. “That is our Achilles Heel. They will exploit it. I don’t want to risk it. Solle told them everything about our plans and they’ve proven it with every passing day. They knew we were using blessed fish oil to keep the demons from rising, so they brought the blizzard to cover it. They knew we had the trenches, so they’ve been whittling them down with bombardments that target their supply trenches and wounds so many that they are overwhelming our limited physicians before they can be helped. They’re bleeding us out. And, they’re reserving their heavy hitters for when we’re exhausted. That port is going to be the death-strike.”
“They can swim under it,” Aurie nodded to all three of them. She shrugged, “I can swim under it.”
“You can swim?” Enya pursed her brows.
“Of course, can’t you?” Aurie blinked.
“No.” Enya’s eyes were narrower than usual.
Draka held up a paper with something he had written on it. He nodded to Enya.
“Have any ideas on how we can stop them from doing that?” Enya cocked a brow.
Aurie shrugged and shook her head at them. “The water is freezing cold. No one can last in it without freezing to death. Maud nearly died from falling in. She didn’t stop shaking for years until Draka was allowed to heal her. If we send anyone in there to put a net or anything, it will stop the fish from coming in, and, worse, it’ll kill them. Really, I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
“That’s right…” Qasim read what Draka wrote next. He turned to Enya, who was still eyeing Aurie.
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“You and I need to go over a lot more about what other talents you might have,” Enya looked her over. “How good at math are you?”
“Your trick with the canisters of fish oil,” Qasim said to Enya, drawing her attention back to him. “Could that help with this?”
Enya’s face brightened. “You know, it just might.”
“Trick with the fish oil?” Aurie blinked at her. Draka and Qasim were grinning.
Enya was beaming, “Fish oil has exothermic reaction. I figured it out when one of the cloths I soaked in it to light my lamp began smoking when I left it on my table too long.”
“What does that mean?”
“It makes heat,” Enya straightened her back proudly. “Without fire—when it is mixed with certain other things, like air—and we have fish oil by the barrels and more each day. It’s our only replenishable resource so long as we have access to the lake.”
“Air and fish oil?” Aurie squinched her face in disbelief.
“Well, not just air, but with some other stuff,” Enya shrugged. The others were amused as they let her go on. “Heat and pressure make explosions. So, we put cloths soaked in fish oil with some mixture I use for the Dragon’s Tails—the sodium extracted from the nitrate in very small doses—and sealed them in small jars and voila, we had tiny explosives. Tie them to the boulder-loads we launched into the forest at their artillery batteries and each canister made the boulder reach maybe ten to fifteen meters further. Not a straight line, but close enough. That’s how we took out the bombardments from the forest long enough to get the fires lit.”
“What are you…huh?” Aurie blinked.
Qasim put a fist to his mouth as he trembled with stifled laughter. Draka was only grinning widely at her. He held up a paper for Enya to read. Enya nodded with a flick of her brows.
“Right,” Enya handed it back to him. She said to Aurie, “The way you blew out that wall when you smote Gerard?”
Aurie nodded with her jaw suddenly tightening and teeth clenched.
“I can do that by mixing certain ingredients like a cook does to bake a cake. Instead of a cake, I make walls crumble. I’m an artificer. That’s my place in an army.”
“Oh,” Aurie was still a little confused about it all, but she figured it would come together eventually. She looked to the others. “Does everyone have a place like that in an army?”
Qasim and Draka nodded knowingly. Qasim pointed at himself, “I’m a lancer. Mounted and dismounted, polearm bearer. We’re the ones used to stop cavalry charges. Draka started as a shield bearer but was a ranger for most of his campaigns.”
Draka nodded with only a hint of pride.
“A ranger?”
Enya explained, “They’re the ones who are always in the front of moving armies, scouting in the wilderness or acting as the vanguard to take important places needed for the army to get where they need to go, like bridges and the like. Rangers are small unit fighters and live mostly in the wilds.”
“Explains a lot,” Aurie raised a brow at him.
“On the battlefield,” Qasim moved his fingers over the pieces on the map, tapping each one as he passed them, “each one has their place. We have our rangers scouting and reporting our enemy’s positions while also protecting the supply lines. They also are among our lines, helping to ration those supplies and keep our troops from over indulging because they know what they need to live and they don’t. Plus, they are best at defensive traps and using the terrain to our advantage. Artificers are our artillery: mathematicians and chemists. They operate our catapults, trebuchets, ballistae, and—once they are within range—they will be launching what’s left of our Dragon’s Tails. They often work with our rangers to make traps. Lancers are our best weapons against cavalry, but they are accompanied by spearmen and pikemen, always at the front of defensive lines. The infantry—footmen—are the regular soldiers, also called shield bearers, and are the main force. Archers are placed to keep pressure on our enemies to herd them into the area where we have most advantage or keep them from coming at us in too great a number. Engineers are who build our defenses, assemble the artillery, aid in the supply lines, et cetera. And so on.”
“So, what am I?” Aurie looked at each of them.
“I don’t know,” Qasim shrugged at her. “What are you?”
Draka regarded her for a moment, then wrote something and turned the paper so that all could see.
“Logistics or artificer,” Enya read thoughtfully. “Logistics, I definitely could see. She was immaculate in Strasbourg. Turned those lobsters on their heads the moment she set foot through the gates. Had me tripping over myself, too. But…you can do math in your head that I have to write down. Artificing is all math and recipes. And I’ve tasted your cooking…”
“I don’t like the idea of blowing people up,” Aurie shook her head. “I honestly don’t like the idea of being a soldier at all, really. I’m a Paladin, so I don’t have much of a choice, but that seems…like a lot.”
Qasim shifted his glance away with disappointment toward Draka, “The siege will likely choose for you. I want to hold the fishery, Draka. I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave that shore unguarded.”
Draka sent a sideways glare his way. He shook his head. Qasim huffed as answer.
“I really think you’d do good as an artificer,” Enya insisted. “We don’t get up close to the fighting. Unless it goes really badly, we’re behind the lines, and are the ones covering their hides. We target enemy artillery, their archers, take down obstacles that otherwise would cause us to have casualties, and we do it at a distance.”
“I’ll think about it,” Aurie was already certain she’d prefer logistics. If it was what she did in Strasbourg, then that was definitely more what she wanted to do. Keep supplies going where they needed to go, organizing things, making sure people did their jobs. She liked doing that. She was good at that already. And it didn’t mean killing.
She wondered what Draka thought about it. When she looked up to see his expression, it was thoughtful and warm. If only she could read so that she could have a moment alone with him. She needed to tell him what she was about to do. She needed to tell someone and he was the only one she trusted, and she wanted to know if he agreed to it, too. What he thought about the idea. But they were too busy and to ask would be…improper until Cardinal Thomas made things official with the dissolution. When was that going to happen? Should have happened already, as far as she was concerned at this point.
Draka’s brow furrowed at her. He must have noticed something. He began digging into his breastplate for something.
“I’m going to see if I can figure out what we can use to block them off in the port,” Aurie stood into a crouch below that haze of smoke gathered in the ceiling. She didn’t want to add to the burning in her throat.
Draka held up a finger and shifted to grab her hand before she went through the door. His eyes met hers with a sorrowful pleading. He nodded. She nodded back, a fleeting grin, and she let go to duck back onto the steps down the roof onto the wall walk.
Enya followed her, “I think I have an idea we can do to make that port a fiery hell for them to swim into…”
“When are you going to tell her?” Qasim asked when Draka sat back against the wall.
Draka let out a long breath and leaned his head against the wood. He shook his head against it.
Qasim slapped Draka’s knee. “You only have so much time. Maybe less with all this.”
Draka rolled his head instead of lifting it to look at him.
“If you’re waiting for the right time,” Qasim was looking over the map, “You’re going to run out before it comes. You want to know what I think?”
Draka shook his head.
Qasim smiled, crinkling his nose. “You should go and tell her now. We need something good to happen. Things are only going to get worse once those fires die down and we have maybe a day, maybe two, before that happens. This might be your last chance before God makes it for you.”
Draka turned back to the smoke swirling the ceiling above him. As much as he wanted to, it didn’t feel right. Not with Maud where she was. Not with them surrounded by death and war. Not with everything crumbling around them. It would only make things more complicated. It would be a happiness shrouded in guilt rather than celebration.
No, Draka decided as he adjusted so that he could study the map beside Qasim, I will wait to tell her that it has been dissolved until it outweighs the horribleness around us.
