Chapter 3.22: Hold the Wall
Three hundred years later, the brief ten years of your doctrine still remain instilled in Sumerian soldiers. Even under Gieloth control – or maybe because of it – they moved remarkably well as a unit, each man forming a firm brick in their shield wall. They did not falter, as normal soldiers would, and this made their formation all the more impenetrable to your ranged weaponry. Were it not for the numerous traps you had laid, they would have made it to the walls with ease. Their bows outranged those of Egyptian make, and soon your own archers, despite their height advantage, were having to duck in fear of being skewered by stray Sumerian arrows. Still, the weather made it far harder for them to hit you, and you figured it would be hard for them to climb the walls in the rain too. You wonder if the Gieloth couldn't stop the rain once he had started it...
The Babylonians reached the moat, with less men than they had started out with, but still enough to outnumber your soldiers three to one. They began dropping their ladders to span the moat, but the first few who crossed were snapped up by the crocodiles, who proceeded to eat the ladders too. Most of the men moved back, and they began to file into line at the gate. You were fine with that. Arrows and rocks rained upon them, but for every one you killed, two more lined up to take their place, shields at the ready. Their tight formation and sturdy shields made sure that they could well survive your attacks once they had hunkered down into position... and they did not move from their spot, camped in front of the gate. They made no effort to raise their ladders. You move to the top of the gate, wondering if you could get a huge piece of rock to drop on them while they weren't moving. You notice that the rain was getting heavier... the clouds were darkening even further, and gathering above your head.
Something was wrong. The air began to buzz around your ears. Your eyes widen, and you yell at your men to find cover. There is a blinding flash, and a roaring sound. Fast as you are, you can't dodge lightning yet. You are blown clear of the gate, tumbling back inside the fortress, as a lightning bolt strikes the top of the wall. There is another flash, and another strike.
That tower was bad news after all.
Looks like your first guess was right – it allows the Gieloth to do what he does better.
I suppose it isn't as handy as your Honourblade if he's going to have to lug that big phallic object around whenever he goes to battle...
No offense to your smaller phallic object that does the same thing, but being shorter certainly makes it more manageable in size.
“No offense taken.” As you clamber to your feet, you grit your teeth. Your wounds were still healing... but there was no time for pain. You let out a loud yell and charge back to the top of the wall, rallying whichever soldiers you could pick up to go with you. On your way, you pass Menos, who nods at you and begins preparing his militia to reinforce the men on the walls. Many of your soldiers had gathered near the gate to heap rocks upon the Babylonians – that lightning strike would have taken out a few dozen, easily. You need to keep morale high. As you reach the top of the wall, you find that the Babylonians have raised their ladders. Already their soldiers were engaged in battle with your men, and pushing them back. There were many of them already on the walls – you cannot let more up. Focusing on the hooks of the ladders that you can see, you make a silent, gripping motion with your both your fists, and snap them off at the top. That should buy you some time. Then you charge into the fray.
The rain has made the walls slick, and you watch your footing as you dance into the chaotic melee, reaping bodies with your sword. The Babylonians fought particularly well – they were strong and skilled, but each of them seemed to have a certain rote to their skills. It was not easily noticeable, but they would hold their blades so before a attack, and move there to dodge, and turn just so before a feint. There were several variants to their movements, but it was nothing a really keen-eyed and experienced fighter couldn't spot. Unfortunately, you didn't have even a hundred of these in your army, while they had thousands of good if dull warriors. You kept up the attack, attempting to clear the walls. You just didn't have enough men to guard every spot, and for every ladder you knocked down, more sprang up out of your sight, while you were distracted by more enemies. You are not sure how long you hacked your way through the rain, how many ladders you destroyed, how many men you killed, but you did notice that with every passing minute, the Babylonian soldiers grew better. They had began to adapt to your movements; now, instead of angling their blade so before an attack, they began to angle their blade so before turning their blade thus when you moved to attack their weakness. This was still nothing you couldn't handle, but they were gradually inflicting more and more casualties on your men. All of a sudden, the last Babylonian collapses in a gurgle of blood, and then there were no more. The Babylonians made no further attempts to scale the gates. You wonder if they had given up. Walking over to the edge of the scorched, crumbling wall, you scanned the area.
The Babylonians were retreating in an orderly manner. Judging from their number, you might have killed more than five hundred men as they tried to claim the walls, before they pulled back. Your own men did not fare much better, however – even with the advantage of fighting on their own walls, more than five hundred were wounded, with at least three hundred more dead. Of these, many of them were professional soldiers, who had been in the bulk of the fighting. Tomorrow, the militia would have to begin to take up the slack. The civilians have much work to do today. The rain clouds did not let up, and you begin orders for the wounded to be treated and the dead to be buried.
The Babylonian army did not move for the rest of the day, but you note that they had already set up camps, apparently preparing to be here for at least another night. No chance of them going back immediately with their tails behind their legs, then.
***
That night, you receive a visitor in your head.
Greetings, mighty immortal.
The sound in your head was unmistakeably that of a Gieloth.
I am Nabu, commander of the Babylonian forces currently arrayed against your brave warriors.
You could not respond out loud, seeing as you were having dinner with your men. You settled for thinking really hard back at Nabu.
“What do you have to say to me?” Him beaming his voice into your head wasn't really a surprise to you – you had caught a flicker of communications between the Babylonian forces currently outside your fortress and Assyria. You presumed 'Lord Marduk' had something he wanted.
It has been fun testing your abilities – I was particularly impressed at the way you turned Baran into a little ball, and how you noticed the little learning subroutine I implanted into the soldiers, but I fear the test must end tonight. My lord Marduk has decreed that I should break your mind and take your body before him. He has no interest in Egypt anymore... only you.
With that, you feel his tentacle on your brain, pressing on your mind. Instantly you realize the sheer extent of his psychic abilities. He would be formidable enough without his tower, but with it, he could shatter your mind with one push. It wouldn't be permanent, but you would certainly go into a coma for quite some time as your mind repaired itself. You resist the urge to break out into a cold sweat somehow, and keep your calm while chewing the tough crocodile meat that were part of the cellar stockpiles.
“Why have you not done so?” You keep your questions simple and cautious.
Why, has Sekhenun not told you of me? I am surprised. I would have thought her gossipy enough to reveal all the internecine politics of the Gieloth!
You hear a slight tone of amusement, but you keep quiet.
Suffice to say, I have no love for my lord, nor the foolish little errands that he sends me out on. There are far greater concerns we should be facing than dealing with petty little Earthling squabbles.
You sigh. “Can you get to the point? I'm trying to have dinner here, if you haven't noticed.”
Sekhenun was right, you are pretty rude. Here is what I propose... I will bring you before Marduk... unbroken. Then you shall take him by surprise, and slay him.
“What do you get out of this?”
I will get what I want, you will get a bountiful reward from me, and Marduk will get what he deserves. Is that a good enough answer?
“Not really. Next question: How can I trust you?”
It's simple. I could break you right now and send my army to fetch your body once your men are in disarray. I won't. Tomorrow morning, you will come to the Babylonian camp, alone. I will dismantle the tower as a sign of good faith, when you are a hundred paces from the gates, and once you are with me, my army will retreat. Your men might even think you died heroically to chase us away. Wouldn't that be nice?
This Gieloth was particularly talkative. Then again, the ones you had met since awakening from your slumber were quite chatty, unlike the two you had dealt with before. What should you do? He was holding your mind hostage to try to get you to accede to his demands – on the other hand, could he really deliver on his threat?
***
A. You accept his offer, and prepare to head to Sumeria with this weird Gieloth. Having felt his power, you have no doubt that he could crush your mind should he choose to, and with you gone, the leaderless fortress would fall with the next assault. His words may not be entirely truthful, but you don't think you have any other choice. You can decide what to do next after you arrive in Sumeria.
B. You pretend to accept his offer. Tomorrow, once he dismantles the tower, you will use his own foolishness against him and destroy his army. He is no threat without that sorcerous building of his, and in close combat, you are confident you can strike him down before he can concentrate his psychic abilities on you.
C. You grasp the Honourblade tightly and steel yourself against the impending assault – you will reject his offer and call his bluff. You do not trust a single word he says, and if he could have crushed your mind that easily you are sure he would have done it a long time ago. You beat his forces back today, you will continue to do so tomorrow, and the day after that, until every last one of his men is dead.
D. Rather than having him crush your mind, you'd rather sacrifice yourself to destroy him! YOU UNLEASH THE EARTHQUAKE! If the tower was still parked where it was, he'd plummet, along with it, into the abyss.