citizen-soldiers could not stem the flood. They received conflicting orders from conspirators who had infiltrated their organization. Hastily assembled companies raced off to peaceful sectors. Panic spread. And all the while horsemen charged through the lost gate and spread out as swiftly as oil on water.
The panic spread to the rest of the city.
Panic had become Nassef's favorite weapon during his eastern campaigns. He had exploited it in his seizure of Al Rhemish. Now he was intent on teaching the western kingdoms the terror of the horseman who moved like lightning, who appeared and vanished, and struck where least expected.
Simballawein was like a dinosaur. Its immense size kept it from dying immediately.
The youths on the north wall watched the fires bloody the underbellies of the clouds and listened to the moans of a city collapsing.
"I think it's getting closer," Reskird said.
They knew what was happening. This was Simballawein's last independent night. And they were scared.
"How come we're just sitting here?" one of the soldiers asked.
"I don't know," Bragi admitted. "The Captain will let us know what to do."
"So damned hot," Haaken muttered. The heat of the fires could be felt this far away.
"I don't want to second-guess Hawkwind... "
"Then don't, Reskird," Haaken grumbled.
"I was just going to say... "
"Ragnarson?" Lieutenant Trubacik carefully stepped over the legs of lounging soldiers. The ramparts were narrow.
"Here, sir."
"Report to the Captain,"
"Yes sir."
Trubacik moved to the next squad. "Haven?"
Bragi went to Sanguinet's command post. "Gather round," the Captain said softly, when everyone had arrived. "And keep your voices down. All right. Here's the word. There's no hope of holding. The situation has deteriorated too much. The General has informed the Grand Council. Come midnight, we're pulling out."
Voices buzzed.
"Keep it down. Somebody out there might speak Itaskian. Gentlemen, I want you to speak to your men. The enemy main force has moved around to the south, but we're still going to have to fight. On the march. Discipline is going to make the difference. And we're going to have to give a little extra. We're green. There's going to be veterans in front of us and behind us, but we've still got to take care of our part of the line."
Bragi did not like it. Hawkwind thought he could fight his way through a larger, more mobile army?
"Maintaining discipline is a must. We're taking civilians with us. The Grand Councilors, their families, and the Tyrant. The Tyrant will bring his own escort, but don't count on them if it gets tight. We're in the narrow passage. We can't count on anybody but our brothers."
Ragnarson began to understand what it meant to be a Guildsman.
He also saw how Hawkwind could justify abandoning a commission. With Simballawein's rulers deserting their people, he would be following his commissioners.
"The march will be short. We'll hit a bay on the coast twelve miles north of here. A fleet is waiting to pick us up."
"Why not sail from here?" somebody asked.
"The waterfront is in enemy hands. That's all, men. There isn't much time. Explain to your people. Discipline and silence. Discipline and silence."
The group dispersed. Similar assemblies broke up elsewhere.
"It's crazy," Reskird protested. "They'll get us all killed."
"How much chance have we got here?" Bragi demanded. "Haaken, find me a dirty sock."
"What?"
"Get me a sock. I'm going to cram it in his mouth and keep it there 'til we're aboard ship. I don't want him shooting his mouth off out there and getting us wiped out."
"Hey!" Reskird protested.
"That's the last noise I want to hear out of you tonight. Get your stuff. Here comes Trubacik."
"Ready, Ragnarson?"
"Ready, sir."
"Take them down to the street. The captain will form you up."
The wait in the dark street, behind the gate, seemed eternal. Even Sanguinet became impatient. Several Grand Councilors were late.
Native soldiers kept drifting in
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