Seeds of Rebellion
Page 53
“What’s the plan?” Jason asked.
“You, Rachel, and I will ride with Galloran and Dorsio. We’re in charge of the horses. We’ll each lead one.”
“Even Galloran?” Rachel asked.
“He’ll stay toward the rear during the charge,” Tark explained. “He’ll trust his horse to stay on the road and follow the others. He may be blind, but he’s an experienced rider.”
“We’re riding up along the road?” Jason asked.
“Drake and Aram will hit the bridge on this side, first with orantium, then with sword and bow. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra will do the same on the far side of the bridge. If all goes as planned, the fight should be over by the time we reach the bridge.”
“We’re just the getaway,” Rachel said.
Tark nodded.
“Can we blow the bridge after we cross?” Jason asked. “You know, mess up the pursuit?”
“Chandra asked the same thing,” Tark said. “The bridge was built to last. I agree with Aram and Ferrin that the orantium explosives aren’t strong enough to bring it down, at least not without some prep work. Give me three days and some tools, it might be a different story.”
“How do we know when to move?” Jason asked.
“The others will strike right after the moon sets,” Tark related. “We start for the bridge when we hear the first explosion. If needed, we’ll help mop up when we get there.”
Tark led them over to the horses. Dorsio and Galloran sat astride their mounts, each holding a lead to another horse.
“Crazy about Aram,” Rachel said.
“The giant thing?” Jason checked.
“Makes me wonder what else we don’t know about the types of people in this world.”
Jason nodded. “After the lurkers, I think I’ve learned enough.”
“Shall we move into position?” Galloran asked.
Jason, Tark, and Rachel mounted up. Tark explained which horse each of them would be taking, giving the appropriate lead to Jason and to Rachel. Jason had Chandra’s horse. Dorsio led the way at a cautious pace, Galloran near him. Tark brought up the rear. By the time they reached a clearing beside a wide road, the moon was about to touch the horizon.
Galloran shifted on his horse beside Jason. “If all goes as planned,” Galloran said, “six orantium spheres should detonate simultaneously, demolishing the manglers. Each attacker will throw one, and Drake will throw two. If our attackers shield their eyes correctly, the blinded guardsmen will be left vulnerable. A second volley of orantium should wipe out most of the remaining defenders. The rest will fall by more conventional means.”
Jason visualized the scenario. “Sounds airtight.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to plan a perfect assault,” Galloran said. “The trouble tends to show up during the execution.”
The waning moon was halfway below the horizon and slowly melting from sight. Dorsio led them onto the road. The bridge was visible less than a mile away, a pair of large cressets burning at either end. As a group, the horses started walking toward the bridge.
Jason felt butterflies inside his stomach. He tried to tell himself that his part in this was simple. Follow Dorsio to the bridge. What could go wrong? Well, they could get to the bridge, find Aram and Drake dead and manglers waiting to chop them into taco meat while guards shot arrows from covered positions. Jason debated whether he should get out an orantium sphere of his own. He decided against it, since he would have his hands full trying to steer his own horse and lead another. The last thing he needed was to drop a sphere and blow himself up. Sometimes the best offense was avoiding self-destruction.
The moon disappeared below the horizon. Up ahead, white flashes blazed at either end of the bridge, the thunder of the explosions following a few seconds later. Jason’s horse sidestepped and whinnied, but thankfully didn’t go berserk.
Dorsio spurred his horse to a canter. Jason flicked the reins, and his horse followed. He kept a firm hand on the lead of Chandra’s horse. A second round of detonations strobed on the bridge, a little less simultaneous this time, the fiery whiteness reflecting off rising clouds of smoke. The resultant booming sounded like three or four cannons, fired in rapid succession.
Jason focused on staying with Dorsio and keeping his horses under control. If Galloran could do it blind, he had no excuse to mess up.
The bridge passed out of sight, obscured by trees. As the road rounded the trees, the near side of the bridge came back into view, one of the cressets still burning. Aram and Drake stood off to one side of the road. Tark and Rachel slowed up to pass the men their horses.
Staying with Galloran and Dorsio, Jason rode onto the bridge. He smelled charred stone and metal and flesh. The twisted husks of manglers lay in smoldering ruins, along with several fallen guardsmen. Jason felt a pang of regret at the sight of the slain soldiers. At the same time, he knew that they supported an evil cause. Given the chance, none of them would have hesitated to kill him or his friends.
Jason loped across the bridge. Both cressets still burned on the far side. More demolished manglers and slaughtered soldiers lay in disarray, along with fragments of metal and blackened stone. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra awaited them at the side of the road beyond the bridge. Jason slowed beside Chandra, who sprang onto her horse with wiry skill.
“I’ll grant Galloran one thing,” Ferrin said cheerily. “The man knows how to throw a party.” He was the only person who had not yet mounted his horse. He walked it over to the guardhouse, took the dagger from a fallen guardsman, and used it to tack a piece of parchment to the door.
“What does it say?” Jason asked.
“‘Down with Maldor, down with his puppets, down with his empire,’” Nedwin recited. “‘Warmest regards, Ferrin, son of Baldor.’”
“I composed it myself,” Ferrin said. “Best I could manage on short notice. With more time, I might have devised a rhyme.” He mounted his horse as Tark, Rachel, Aram, and Drake rode up.
“The village?” Galloran asked.
“Looks quiet for now,” Nedwin replied. “I drugged the horses at the garrison, as well as many of the privately owned mounts on this side of the river. We should enjoy an advantageous head start.”
“Well done, everyone,” Galloran said, holding out the lead for his own horse until Dorsio took it. “Off we go.”
Jason nudged his horse forward, riding between Tark and Rachel. The excitement of the decisive victory and the promise of vengeful imperial pursuers left his senses thrillingly alert. As their horses pounded through the night, he gazed up at the countless stars overhead, so numerous that it looked impossible to create constellations in all the clutter.
“You, Rachel, and I will ride with Galloran and Dorsio. We’re in charge of the horses. We’ll each lead one.”
“Even Galloran?” Rachel asked.
“He’ll stay toward the rear during the charge,” Tark explained. “He’ll trust his horse to stay on the road and follow the others. He may be blind, but he’s an experienced rider.”
“We’re riding up along the road?” Jason asked.
“Drake and Aram will hit the bridge on this side, first with orantium, then with sword and bow. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra will do the same on the far side of the bridge. If all goes as planned, the fight should be over by the time we reach the bridge.”
“We’re just the getaway,” Rachel said.
Tark nodded.
“Can we blow the bridge after we cross?” Jason asked. “You know, mess up the pursuit?”
“Chandra asked the same thing,” Tark said. “The bridge was built to last. I agree with Aram and Ferrin that the orantium explosives aren’t strong enough to bring it down, at least not without some prep work. Give me three days and some tools, it might be a different story.”
“How do we know when to move?” Jason asked.
“The others will strike right after the moon sets,” Tark related. “We start for the bridge when we hear the first explosion. If needed, we’ll help mop up when we get there.”
Tark led them over to the horses. Dorsio and Galloran sat astride their mounts, each holding a lead to another horse.
“Crazy about Aram,” Rachel said.
“The giant thing?” Jason checked.
“Makes me wonder what else we don’t know about the types of people in this world.”
Jason nodded. “After the lurkers, I think I’ve learned enough.”
“Shall we move into position?” Galloran asked.
Jason, Tark, and Rachel mounted up. Tark explained which horse each of them would be taking, giving the appropriate lead to Jason and to Rachel. Jason had Chandra’s horse. Dorsio led the way at a cautious pace, Galloran near him. Tark brought up the rear. By the time they reached a clearing beside a wide road, the moon was about to touch the horizon.
Galloran shifted on his horse beside Jason. “If all goes as planned,” Galloran said, “six orantium spheres should detonate simultaneously, demolishing the manglers. Each attacker will throw one, and Drake will throw two. If our attackers shield their eyes correctly, the blinded guardsmen will be left vulnerable. A second volley of orantium should wipe out most of the remaining defenders. The rest will fall by more conventional means.”
Jason visualized the scenario. “Sounds airtight.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to plan a perfect assault,” Galloran said. “The trouble tends to show up during the execution.”
The waning moon was halfway below the horizon and slowly melting from sight. Dorsio led them onto the road. The bridge was visible less than a mile away, a pair of large cressets burning at either end. As a group, the horses started walking toward the bridge.
Jason felt butterflies inside his stomach. He tried to tell himself that his part in this was simple. Follow Dorsio to the bridge. What could go wrong? Well, they could get to the bridge, find Aram and Drake dead and manglers waiting to chop them into taco meat while guards shot arrows from covered positions. Jason debated whether he should get out an orantium sphere of his own. He decided against it, since he would have his hands full trying to steer his own horse and lead another. The last thing he needed was to drop a sphere and blow himself up. Sometimes the best offense was avoiding self-destruction.
The moon disappeared below the horizon. Up ahead, white flashes blazed at either end of the bridge, the thunder of the explosions following a few seconds later. Jason’s horse sidestepped and whinnied, but thankfully didn’t go berserk.
Dorsio spurred his horse to a canter. Jason flicked the reins, and his horse followed. He kept a firm hand on the lead of Chandra’s horse. A second round of detonations strobed on the bridge, a little less simultaneous this time, the fiery whiteness reflecting off rising clouds of smoke. The resultant booming sounded like three or four cannons, fired in rapid succession.
Jason focused on staying with Dorsio and keeping his horses under control. If Galloran could do it blind, he had no excuse to mess up.
The bridge passed out of sight, obscured by trees. As the road rounded the trees, the near side of the bridge came back into view, one of the cressets still burning. Aram and Drake stood off to one side of the road. Tark and Rachel slowed up to pass the men their horses.
Staying with Galloran and Dorsio, Jason rode onto the bridge. He smelled charred stone and metal and flesh. The twisted husks of manglers lay in smoldering ruins, along with several fallen guardsmen. Jason felt a pang of regret at the sight of the slain soldiers. At the same time, he knew that they supported an evil cause. Given the chance, none of them would have hesitated to kill him or his friends.
Jason loped across the bridge. Both cressets still burned on the far side. More demolished manglers and slaughtered soldiers lay in disarray, along with fragments of metal and blackened stone. Nedwin, Ferrin, and Chandra awaited them at the side of the road beyond the bridge. Jason slowed beside Chandra, who sprang onto her horse with wiry skill.
“I’ll grant Galloran one thing,” Ferrin said cheerily. “The man knows how to throw a party.” He was the only person who had not yet mounted his horse. He walked it over to the guardhouse, took the dagger from a fallen guardsman, and used it to tack a piece of parchment to the door.
“What does it say?” Jason asked.
“‘Down with Maldor, down with his puppets, down with his empire,’” Nedwin recited. “‘Warmest regards, Ferrin, son of Baldor.’”
“I composed it myself,” Ferrin said. “Best I could manage on short notice. With more time, I might have devised a rhyme.” He mounted his horse as Tark, Rachel, Aram, and Drake rode up.
“The village?” Galloran asked.
“Looks quiet for now,” Nedwin replied. “I drugged the horses at the garrison, as well as many of the privately owned mounts on this side of the river. We should enjoy an advantageous head start.”
“Well done, everyone,” Galloran said, holding out the lead for his own horse until Dorsio took it. “Off we go.”
Jason nudged his horse forward, riding between Tark and Rachel. The excitement of the decisive victory and the promise of vengeful imperial pursuers left his senses thrillingly alert. As their horses pounded through the night, he gazed up at the countless stars overhead, so numerous that it looked impossible to create constellations in all the clutter.
