webcrawl/APGTE/Book-3/out/Ch-067.md.tex

\hypertarget{chapter-42-plateau}{%
\chapter{Plateau}\label{chapter-42-plateau}}



\epigraph{``Ah, but every palace you destroy has to be rebuilt! You've
single-handedly pulled the Empire out of a slump, hahaha. Once again
sweet victory is mine.''}{Dread Emperor Irritant I, the Oddly Successful}



The sappers strapped the demolition charges against the guildhall's wall
and scuttled away as fast as their feet could take them. The moment
they'd gotten clear, two apple-sized balls of flame bloomed and struck
at the munitions. Stone shattered, though few shards went in our
direction -- the goblins had long mastered the art of shaping the
direction of the blasts. Two dozen regulars charged into the rubble
before the dust and smoke cloud had settled, running into stiff fae
resistance. This far into Old Dormer they'd started to hole up in the
larger buildings, turning them into strongholds they used to sally out
at the Fifteenth when our lines drove past them. My eyes sharpened and I
made out the silhouettes in the smoke. Less than thirty, regulars one
and all. The few set up on a balustrade were going to be costly to
dislodge, but I couldn't afford to stick my nose into every fight. I let
the crossbowmen have at them as my legionaries rammed their shield wall
into the enemy on the ground floor.

I'd left Hakram behind when we'd taken the walls, and hadn't seen him in
the better part of an hour. The fighting there had been brutal,
especially with Masego's ward gone, but Nauk's vanguard had punched
through and carved us a beachhead on top of the ramparts. It had been
grim work after that, driving them back inch by inch until the enemy
commander sounded a horn and they retreated into the inner city. The
battle for Dormer was being fought on three theatres, now. Ranker and
Afolabi held our backs, the Deoraithe infantry had resumed assaulting
the fae dug in the east as soon as the siege engines had turned their
fire there and now the Fifteenth was spilling into Old Dormer like a
flood. The flood, unfortunately, had eventually run into dike. It would
have been too much to hope for that the last stiff opposition we'd run
into was the Immortals, holed up in their castle.

The most ancient part of Dormer was, I'd come to realize, built around a
handful of low hills joining into a larger one. The baronial castle was
atop that, overlooking the old city and the port, and just like
Whitestone Quarter back in Laure the wealthy estates had clustered
around the seat of power in the city. Weren't a lot of high nobles this
far south, but there'd been wealthy merchants and those who'd once been
landed knights before that status was burned out of the social fabric of
Callow. The Fifteenth had overrun most of the lower level of Old Dormer
in swift order, save for a few strongholds that were being bloodily
taken piecemeal, but it had stopped cold in face of fae lines on two
fronts: the port and the lesser hills. The fucking nobles had built
walls around their estate, because naturally it wasn't enough to be rich
you had to keep the rabble away from your statues and gardens too. Nauk
had lost a full company trying the lowest hill, wiped out in a storm of
flame faster than they could scream, before pulling back.

The port was crawling with fae, and I'd bet that was where the ten
thousand who'd bailed from the second run at the engines had gone.
Regulars alone the Fifteenth might have managed to drive into the river,
but as it happened the rivers was swinging back. There was a Count in
there who had water sorcery, and the prick had been cautious enough so
far we hadn't been able to reach him. When I'd gone to lead the charge
he'd surrounded the entire port in a wall of water twenty feet high, and
while I could have probably forced my way through that I was unwilling
to exhaust myself on a second stringer. I'd linked back with the meat of
the Fifteenth under Legate Hune and scried Masego, diverting him in that
direction. It'd take a while for him to get there, though, so I'd gone
with Hune's boys to bring down the last few dug-in fae around the port.
I watched in silence as the legionaries finished clearing the guildhall,
and nodded in approval at the light casualties. Only five dead, and with
the mage line close by the wounded would be back on their feet soon
enough. \emph{Speaking of the devil}, I thought. A thickly-built Soninke
with lieutenant stripes on her shoulder and the light armour of our mage
contingent was making her way to me. I turned without needing to be
hailed, and discomfort flickered across her face.

``Ma'am,'' she saluted. ``Lord Hierophant had sent word he's near the
port, preparing a ritual to make a path through the water.''

I rolled my shoulder absent-mindedly.

``Then let's give him a hand,'' I mused. ``Any word from Adjutant or
Archer?''

``Last report has Lord Adjutant in pitched battle with a Summer baroness
near the hills, ma'am,'' the mage replied. ``Neither the Archer nor the
Thief have been in touch.''

It'd been over half a day now, I thought. Any longer and I was going to
have to get concerned, though worrying for Archer was not unlike
worrying for a forest fire at summer peak -- it was usually wiser to
worry \emph{about} the fire than for it. As for Thief, well, of all the
Named I'd come across she had the most splendid survival instinct. If
Diabolist ended up breaking the world, Thief would be the last human
alive to share it with rats and cockroaches.

``Tell Hune to back up Adjutant with whatever mages she can spare,'' I
frowned, and looked around.

Hard to tell my way around an unfamiliar city, though the massive water
wall in the distance was a bit of a hint as to where I should be headed.

``Should I send word to Lord Hierophant you will be reinforcing him,
ma'am?'' the mage called out as I began to walk away.

``Let it be a surprise,'' I said. ``He loves those.''

---

``You know I despise surprises,'' Masego said, glaring at me.

Impressive, considering he had no eyes. He was getting better at that. I
clapped his shoulder, and even being careful nearly sent him tumbling to
the ground.

``What happened to your spirit of adventure?'' I replied.

``That's a myth,'' he said disdainfully, slapping away my hand.
``Father's dissected several heroes and never found any trace of it.''

Ah, Warlock. If I was the kind of girl to pray, I would that I never had
to go digging through that man's basement. I had a feeling whatever I'd
find there would give the Tower a run for its money in the `horrors
beyond understanding' department.

``It's a metaphor,'' I said. ``I know you don't know what those are,
but-``

I grinned at the deeply offended look on his face and barrelled on
before he could interject.

``- I just don't have the time to educate you tonight. Your ritual is
ready?''

``Yes,'' he glared.

``Go on, then,'' I said, vaguely gesturing. ``Do the thing.''

The water rampart loomed ahead of us, showing no sign of collapsing on
its own. It bisected houses in some parts, and the legionaries had
checked inside only to find out it had gone straight through stone and
wood. I didn't have the heart to ask if any of my men had been in the
way when it was made. Runes bloomed around Masego, and it was difficult
for me to keep their image in my mind. High Arcana, then. A curtain of
transparent power made a tunnel through the water across the length of
the street as Hierophant's face creased in concentration. After a
moment, he relaxed. Good enough for me.

``It's a figure of speech,'' he said.

``No idea what you're talking about,'' I airily replied.

A full cohort was already forming ranks in front of the tunnel and
without missing a beat I took the lead. The commanding officer was a
hawk-faced Taghreb, and like most my staff would have been too young for
his rank in most other legions.

``Captain Fazil, Your Grace,'' he introduced himself when I glanced at
him.

``Keep your ranks tight and your shields up, Captain,'' I said. ``This
is going to be a ride.''

His lips quirked in that subtle Praesi way denoting polite amusement.

``Well,'' he said. ``Can't be worse than Marchford.''

``I hear that,'' I muttered.

I'd say this for the fae, while they were a pain to deal with at least
they weren't godsdamned demons. I was really hoping Diabolist was out of
those to call on, but stood ready for bitter disappointment.

``Shouldn't we be \emph{behind} the shields?'' Masego said after
catching up to me. ``That is what they're meant for.''

``Chin up, Lord Hierophant,'' I said. ``Make it look like we know what
we're doing.''

``I thought we knew what we were doing,'' he said.

He glanced at me worriedly and I whistled loudly.

``Catherine\emph{, tell me we know what we're doing.}''

``FORWARD!'' I screamed, unsheathing my sword.

``I could be in my tower,'' he complained. ``My nice, comfortable tower.
Fadila never takes me to battles, you know. She makes me tea. She keeps
very tidy notes and lets me sleep in.''

I didn't bother to suppressed my snort of laughter at that, letting out
ring loud and clear. That must have left an impression on the fae
awaiting us on the other side of the tunnel, because their line wavered
at the sound. I felt the first volley before they let it loose, the
blooming of power just out of sight. With trails of flame the arrows
filled the tunnel with burning light that reflected eerily in the waters
around us. Slow, compared to how they'd felt when I first encountered
them. It was easy enough to pass under the curve when I picked up the
pace, though most hadn't been aimed at me. The sound of sorcerous
shields pinging told me Masego had seen to that, at least for now. I
ripped into the frontline like storm, silhouettes flickering one after
another as I immersed myself into the reflexes of my Name. One, two,
three and what was the point in keeping count? They came and died. The
flowed around me, after a while. Made room, and that was when I realized
they'd known ranks would do nothing to stop me. I could see the long
warehouses of the port in the distance, and atop them fae stood in
knots. Spears of Summer flame were being formed, like the ones they used
to pound at the siege engines.

If I actually got hit by one of those I wouldn't die, I didn't think,
but I wouldn't be getting back up on me feet for a while either. They'd
meant, evidently, to draw me in and keep me pinned. Arrows from all
sides flew, and I had to conceded that if it'd been just me they might
well have caught me with this. I wasn't, though. Alone. Sorcery
slithered around me, shining blue, and began to spin blindingly fast.
The arrows struck it first, and were drawn into the spin flawlessly. The
spears struck one after another and flame filled my field of vision for
long moments -- but, in the end, was drawn in as well. The spinning
ended abruptly, and a forest of arrows clattered against stone as Masego
made his way to my side.

``Reckless,'' he chided.

``Kept them busy,'' I replied.

I'd bought my legionaries their beachhead, and wasn't going to hold
their hand through the rest of this. The Count had been the problem
here, and with Masego backing me we should be putting him down in short
order.

``By the river,'' Hierophant said. ``I believe he'll be releasing the
wall soon.''

``That doesn't sound like a good thing,'' I grimaced.

``The sheer weight of water will crush anything near it,'' he noted. ``A
shame we'll be otherwise occupied; it would have been interesting to
witness. It is quite rare for water sorcery of this scale to be used
save by the Ashurans, you know.''

That would have been interesting enough a line to warrant encouragement
if we were drinking in a tent, but we had other priorities at the
moment. I took the lead and we advanced towards the river. It was
different fighting with Masego than it was with Hakram. Hierophant had
been with me since my first real campaign, true, but we'd only really
began fighting together near the end of the Liesse Rebellion. It was in
the months after that we'd developed the technique, and it hadn't been
truly tested yet. Tonight would see to that. The theory was simple:
Masego was a fortress, and I was the garrison. Panes of solid light
forming a rough sphere around us hung in the air as we moved forward,
and I darted out of their protection to clear the way whenever we met
opposition. Arrow fire petered out after the first two volleys did
nothing to dent our defences and the fae came in close quarters instead.
That was my part to deal with. My shield caught the edge of a swinging
blade and forced it down, my sword point taking the fae in the throat
before I lightly stepped back. Another filled the void before the
movement was even finished.

``Clear,'' I called out.

The panes flickered out of existence and as I stepped aside Masego
finished murmuring an incantation, a burst of howling wind tearing into
the mass of fae before us. Doubtful it'd killed anyone, but it
\emph{did} buy me room. I sallied out the moment the burst ended, blade
high and carving through the fae that tried to plug the gap. Moments
later I saw movement in the distance from the corner of my eye and
calmly retreated just as Hierophant restored the panes of light, safely
behind the walls as the arrows burned harmlessly. It was a slow way
forward, but for foes who'd never faced it before it was very, very hard
to deal with. The two of us ploughed through fae lines even as my legion
fought in the distance, clearing two streets in a row with only minimal
exertion. The dark-skinned mage didn't even look winded. I could feel
the bundle of power that was the Summer Count near the water, but
frowned when I saw there was a row of back-to-back warehouses in the
way. We'd have to go the long way around if we kept to the streets, and
that was more time than I cared to give the enemy. Cutting through a
fae's wrist and half-stepping back behind the panes, I spun the blade
slowly to limber my wrist. There'd been a lot if killing tonight.

``Warehouse to the left,'' I said. ``Burn.''

Masego looked at the wooden walls and raised an eyebrow, red runes
lighting up around him. The smell of sulphur spread thick in the air and
even as the panes broke, a stream of black flame emerging from his hand
and turning into a snake with gaping jaws open wide. The construct tore
through the warehouse wall, the crates piled behind it, what looked like
dried fish hanging form the ceiling and then the second wall before
disappearing in a flash. The fae had been ready for us, this time, and
arrows flew the moment the shields were gone. I stood vigil, blade
scything through the first few in perfect arc and a twist of will
flash-freezing the few that hadn't take care of. The panes were back
before a fuller volley could be sent and we resumed our advance, going
through the still-smouldering shortcut. The moment we saw the inside was
empty of fae our pace went brisk, though Masego stilled before we left
the warehouse and finally reached the docks.

``Now,'' he said. ``Cat, he's not releasing it. He's repurposing it. Hid
the intent from me by delaying `til the last moment.''

``He's going to smash us with it,'' I sighed.

I broke at a run immediately and the overweight mage followed as best he
could. The Count stood at the edge of the docks, alone, and I thanked
any Gods listening for the fae pathological need for melodramatic
scenes. If he'd had an honour guard of Summer soldiers this would have
been a \emph{lot} harder. Turning too-large deep blue eyes on us, the
fae smiled gently.

``Welcome, Duchess of Moonless Nights,'' he said. ``Allow me to-``

By the time he'd gotten to the word `Nights', I had the sharper out of
my satchel and lit. The toss was a beautiful arc that would have the
explosion happen right in his monologuing face. A tendril of water
snaked out of the river and caught it before, though, the munitions
never detonating.

``This is-`` the Count began.

``I'll handle the water,'' Hierophant interrupted, tone interested as he
looked behind us.

``Would you-``

``I've got him,'' I replied, and charged with my shield angled up.

The first tendril of water was caught on it and ricocheted upwards. I
smoothly spun around the second and leapt over the third, landing in a
roll at his feet. His hand whipped forward and there was a gargantuan
groan but the distinct lack of downing that followed meant Hierophant
was good as his word. My shield caught him on the shoulder and I felt
bones break. He didn't even try to fight the impact, allowing it to
throw him into the river. He landed on his feet, never actually going
through.

``And now-``

I followed, letting Winter flare under my feet. It froze the water on
touch just long enough for me to be able to make it from one stride to
the next. I was on his chosen grounds now, though, and it showed.
Instead of the handful of tendrils I got a full three dozen, coming in a
flawless circle. Couldn't afford to slow down or I'd sink, so I'd have
to time this \emph{just} right. I picked the highest tendril and froze a
smooth shard of it, then leapt atop the attack meant to kill me.
Immediately the others adjusted course towards me, but while his sorcery
was versatile it was too \emph{slow}. I wasn't surprised Princess Sulia
hadn't taken him to the Battle of Four Armies and One, the Winter fae
would have eaten this one alive. My sword came down as I fell atop him,
cutting straight through his shoulder and the pale blue mail that
covered it. The Count screamed and before I could response I was thrown
away by a waterspout, the back of my plate dragging along the length of
the docks and ripping through the planks. Fuck, that hurt. I'd cut off
the arrows the Count of Green Yew had shot in there, but there were
still bits inside and they'd wiggled horridly into my back muscles. I
got back on my feet slowly, keeping a sliver of attention on the
presence in the back of my head. The fae was in the air, now, red and
gold wings keeping him aloft.

``\emph{Finally},'' he hissed. ``This is absurd. You have no respect for
the proper courtesies, child. What do you have to say for yourself?''

``One day,'' I replied, ``you guys are going to stop falling for this
one.''

Zombie the Third ploughed into him from the back, screeching loudly as
his wings flapped and the hooves smashed into shoulder blades. My mounts
must have weighed twice as much as he did, and fae or not that took a
toll. The Count plunged into the docks headfirst with a broken back, and
much to my amusement got stuck between the planks I'd already ripped. I
didn't waste time on anything fancy and just punched through the back of
his neck with the tip of my sword.

``G\emph{odsdamnit}, Catherine,'' Masego moaned.

Oh right, he still had all that water to deal with. I guided Zombie into
landing at my side and dragged the Count's broken body off of the docks
just in case leaving it close to river would heal it somehow. You never
knew with fae. Hierophant's arms were held up and shaking as he dealt
with what looked like a small lake of levitating water. That was a
\emph{lot} bigger than I'd thought it would be. I, uh, left him to that.
It looked under control. He eventually managed to make an escapement
that slowly emptied the water back into the Wasaliti, though he was
panting by the end of it. I patted Zombie's back.

``Who's a good abomination to the laws of men and decency,'' I praised
it. ``You are.''

It preened, blue eyes glittering.

``Are you indulging yourself?'' Hierophant said, sounding like he was
rolling his eyes.

No there was an image, but I didn't linger on it because I stood frozen.

``I, uh, didn't make him do that,'' I admitted quietly.

``Her,'' Masego corrected.

``How do you -- never mind, I don't want to know,'' I muttered. ``They
don't usually do that.''

``Your necromancy has grown different than Uncle Amadeus','' the blind
mage mused. ``That has interesting implications.''

``This,'' I decided, ``feels like an issue for Tomorrow Catherine to
deal with. She'll bitch about it, no doubt, but \emph{she} hasn't had to
kill her way through a fucking army of murderous fairies so screw her
and her whining mouth.''

``Usually when villains started referring to themselves like this, it is
before they go deeply and irrevocably mad,'' Masego informed me. ``It is
a well-documented phenomenon.''

I could always count on this one for reassurances, couldn't I? I was
picking my particular shade of scathing sarcasm when movement above
stilled my tongue. To call what was happening there flying would have
been somewhat generous, I decided. It was, if anything, falling at a
slightly forward angle. I imagined the fae's ability to flap its wings
was somewhat affected by the fact that Archer had sunk two knives in its
back and was trying to guide it with them. By their angle, they'd come
from the castle. That was good. The way the fae died in mid-flight was
slightly less so. Archer's lips moved in what was no doubt a vicious
curse and she jumped after retrieving her knives, spreading her arms
wide.

``She's aiming for us, I think,'' Masego said, frowning.

``Going to hit that warehouse instead,'' I noted. ``Her ride died too
early.''

We began to stroll towards the likely end of her trajectory when
Hierophant suddenly smacked a fist into a palm.

``I could ease her way down, like I did with you,'' he offered.

He had, huh. I gauged Archer's fall. Nowhere as bad as mine would have
been, though she'd bruise for sure. And if I remembered correctly, after
catching me the wench had \emph{dropped} me.

``Nah,'' I smiled. ``I'm sure she has it under control.''

Twenty heartbeats later Archer crashed through a thatched roof in an
explosion of straw and wood. Masego and I casually walked into the
warehouse and found her lying sprawled on broken crates full of salmon.
She moaned.

``You didn't catch me,'' she accused.

``My hands were full,'' I said.

``You could have sent your horse,'' she bit out.

``It's a sensitive soul,'' I defended. ``Didn't want to risk hurting
it.''

``Ugh,'' she groaned. ``You two are the worst.''

I looked around and found no sight of her expected shadow.

``Where's Thief?'' I asked.

``Last I saw her she was telling me I was a horrid idiot who didn't
understand the meaning of stealth and that I deserved to die,'' Archer
mused. ``She was smiling when she said it, though. I think she's warming
up to me.''

I coughed to hide my laugh.

``I'm sure she is,'' I lied. ``How much did you get done?''

``Right, report,'' Archer breathed, vaguely flapping a wrist at me
instead of rising. ``So, we stole a bunch of banners and planted the
goblinfire but then we ran into these guys. So Thief was all like
`Archer, you peerless beauty whose approval I secretly crave-``

``Sounds just like her,'' I said flatly.

``- we should run'. But then this guy was all like `Yeah, you better
run'. So, you know, I shot him in the eye. And I'm going to be honest
with you here, Catherine, they didn't take well to that. \emph{At
all}.''

``You don't say,'' I murmured.

So that was why Black never took my reports unless he had a bottle of
wine at hand.

``So anyways this other guy comes in and he's all `I am a Duke, the
Queen is going to kill you all', you know the usual stuff. So I tried to
stab him but he threw me through a window and then set fire to the
stables I landed in. Now,'' Archer firmly stated, ``I could have taken
him.''

``Of course,'' I agreed, without the faintest hint of irony.

``But I know how worried you get and I'm a good friend, so I came back
instead. Grabbed some fae, stabbed it to get its attention and now here
I am.''

She flapped her hand again.

``Report over,'' she cheerfully told me.

I ripped a salmon from its hook and threw at her head, ignoring the loud
protests about respect due to those wounded in the line of duty.

``Masego,'' I said. ``Please heal this idiot, then scry Hune's staff.
Adjutant is to drop whatever he's doing and wait for us at the
frontlines. It's time to end this.''

The fae, I learned when he got in touch with Hune, apparently thought
the same: the Immortals had come out.

It went downhill from there.