to the right… Beyond the low shrubbery of the central reservation, and the other lane of the highway, almost invisible in the near-darkness, squatted the obsidian cube of the Imperial Admiralty Fort. Deep within it could be found the Office of the Navy Bursar, the controller of the Imperial Navy’s wealth. Ahasz planned to hold those funds hostage to the Navy’s non-interference. Two platoons of his commandos were tasked with invading the Admiralty Fort. With them they had a former Navy officer knowledgeable in the operations of the Navy Accounting Mechanism. While Ahasz occupied the Bursar’s office and controlled its Mechanism, the Navy would do his bidding.
It was the duke’s intention to line Palace Road with his troop-wagons, and then send his army into the Palace to seize it floor by floor. He expected to meet little resistance: two troops of knights stalwart and two troops of knights militant within the Palace—fierce fighters, but few. Ahasz’s greatest menace lay off to his right: the garrison, where a battalion of the Emperor’s Own Cuirassiers, and a company of Imperial Palace Artillery, were stationed. But the Housecarls sharing duty with them should see they presented no threat.
A bright flash lit the view ahead. Sound battered the command car.
“Stop!” Ahasz bellowed. He scrambled back down into the body of the vehicle, and yanked the hatch open. He leapt out onto the road. Behind him, Urnagi yelled, “Your grace!”
His troop-wagons came to abrupt halts. A Housecarl basilisk manoeuvred through the central reservation into the oncoming lane, and flew past to the head of the convoy. The lead troop-wagon was burning. It lay canted on the road, chargers inactive. A huge hole, edges blackened and bent, pierced one slab-side. Bodies and body-parts lay scattered on the ground beside it. Housecarls, coughing, faces seared and sooty, stumbled from the wreckage. In the failing light, injuries appeared terrible—limbs missing, flesh black and featureless, darkness welling from open wounds…
Ahasz pulled his sword from his scabbard and ran forward, brandishing it. “Tayisa! To me!”
More troop-wagons settled onto the highway’s surface and disgorged their soldiers. Officers formed up the men in lines and squares.
“Get the damned wagons off the road!” Ahasz yelled. He gestured with his sword, wanting the vehicles to be moved across the highway and onto the back-slope of Palace Road.
Another fat bolt of directed-energy shot from an upper level of the Palace and lit up the twilight. Dirt, grass and concrete geysered into the air.
A short man, stocky, balding and full-bearded, ran up, his helmet tucked under his arm, his free arm keeping his sheathed sword close to his leg. “Your grace.” He snapped a salute.
“Colonel Tayisa. What in heavens was that? Cannon in the Palace? ”
The colonel, commander of Ahasz’s household troops, took a moment to regain his breath. “It must be the Imperial Palace Artillery, your grace.”
“They’re supposed to be in the damned garrison, Tayisa. With the Cuirassiers.” Ahasz turned about and peered across the highway at the walls of the Emperor’s Division garrison. “ And in the custody of the Housecarls.” He could see no shadowed silhouettes on the battlements, in the corner watch-towers. Nor any standard on the headquarters flagpole.
“Get someone over there. Find out what in heavens is going on.”
He turned back to the Palace. “Can the basilisk take that gun in the Palace out?” he asked.
The basilisk, a cannon chariot, had bedded in near the burning troop-wagon. Orange from the flames danced on the basilisk’s grey sides. The barrel of its four-inch directed-energy weapon lifted from its roof housing. A loud hum filled the air. A line of eye-searing incandescence stitched the air between the basilisk and Mount Yama. Stone exploded outwards where it hit. Ornamental carvings, balustrades and balconies tumbled down.
There were people
It was the duke’s intention to line Palace Road with his troop-wagons, and then send his army into the Palace to seize it floor by floor. He expected to meet little resistance: two troops of knights stalwart and two troops of knights militant within the Palace—fierce fighters, but few. Ahasz’s greatest menace lay off to his right: the garrison, where a battalion of the Emperor’s Own Cuirassiers, and a company of Imperial Palace Artillery, were stationed. But the Housecarls sharing duty with them should see they presented no threat.
A bright flash lit the view ahead. Sound battered the command car.
“Stop!” Ahasz bellowed. He scrambled back down into the body of the vehicle, and yanked the hatch open. He leapt out onto the road. Behind him, Urnagi yelled, “Your grace!”
His troop-wagons came to abrupt halts. A Housecarl basilisk manoeuvred through the central reservation into the oncoming lane, and flew past to the head of the convoy. The lead troop-wagon was burning. It lay canted on the road, chargers inactive. A huge hole, edges blackened and bent, pierced one slab-side. Bodies and body-parts lay scattered on the ground beside it. Housecarls, coughing, faces seared and sooty, stumbled from the wreckage. In the failing light, injuries appeared terrible—limbs missing, flesh black and featureless, darkness welling from open wounds…
Ahasz pulled his sword from his scabbard and ran forward, brandishing it. “Tayisa! To me!”
More troop-wagons settled onto the highway’s surface and disgorged their soldiers. Officers formed up the men in lines and squares.
“Get the damned wagons off the road!” Ahasz yelled. He gestured with his sword, wanting the vehicles to be moved across the highway and onto the back-slope of Palace Road.
Another fat bolt of directed-energy shot from an upper level of the Palace and lit up the twilight. Dirt, grass and concrete geysered into the air.
A short man, stocky, balding and full-bearded, ran up, his helmet tucked under his arm, his free arm keeping his sheathed sword close to his leg. “Your grace.” He snapped a salute.
“Colonel Tayisa. What in heavens was that? Cannon in the Palace? ”
The colonel, commander of Ahasz’s household troops, took a moment to regain his breath. “It must be the Imperial Palace Artillery, your grace.”
“They’re supposed to be in the damned garrison, Tayisa. With the Cuirassiers.” Ahasz turned about and peered across the highway at the walls of the Emperor’s Division garrison. “ And in the custody of the Housecarls.” He could see no shadowed silhouettes on the battlements, in the corner watch-towers. Nor any standard on the headquarters flagpole.
“Get someone over there. Find out what in heavens is going on.”
He turned back to the Palace. “Can the basilisk take that gun in the Palace out?” he asked.
The basilisk, a cannon chariot, had bedded in near the burning troop-wagon. Orange from the flames danced on the basilisk’s grey sides. The barrel of its four-inch directed-energy weapon lifted from its roof housing. A loud hum filled the air. A line of eye-searing incandescence stitched the air between the basilisk and Mount Yama. Stone exploded outwards where it hit. Ornamental carvings, balustrades and balconies tumbled down.
There were people
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