Cuz there they are–
The first troops of the Spackle army–
Fanning out into the open ground, a dozen, two dozen, ten dozen of ’em, surging down the hill like a river of white blood, torches held high, bows and arrows and some weird long white stick things in their hands and there are Spackle foot soldiers swarming round other Spackle riding these huge white creachers, built wide like a bullock but taller and broader and with a massive single horn shooting out from the end of their noses and the creachers are covered in heavy armour that looks like it’s made from clay and I see that a lotta the Spackle soldiers are wearing it too, the clay covering their white skin–
And there’s another horn blast so loud I swear my ears are starting to bleed and you can see the horn with yer own eyes now, strapped to the backs of two of the horned creachers up on the hilltop and being blown by that huge Spackle–
And oh, God–
Oh, my, God–
Their Noise–
It comes tumbling down the hill like a weapon on its own, cresting across the open ground like foam on a raging river, and it’s coming right for us, pictures of their army cutting us down, pictures of our soldiers being ripped to pieces, pictures of ugliness and horror that you could never describe, pictures–
Pictures that our own soldiers are sending right back to ’em, pictures rising from the mass of men in front of me, pictures of heads torn from bodies, of bullets ripping Spackle apart, of slaughter, of endless endless–
“Keep your focus, Todd,” the Mayor says, “or the battle will take your life. And I, for one, am more than curious as to what sort of man you’re going to turn out to be.”
“FORM A LINE!” we hear Mr Hammar shouting and the soldiers immediately behind him start spreading out. “FIRST WAVE READY!” he shouts and the men stop and raise their rifles, poised to rush forward at his command as the second wave lines up behind ’em.
The Spackle have stopped too, forming an equally long line at the bottom of the hill. A horned creacher parts their line in the middle, a Spackle standing on its back behind a u-shaped white thing that looks like it’s made of bone, half-again as wide as a man and mounted on a stand on the creacher’s armour.
“What is that?” I ask the Mayor.
He grins as if to himself. “I think we’re about to find out.”
“MEN READY!” Mr Hammar shouts.
“Stay back with me, Todd,” the Mayor says. “Keep out of the fighting as much as you can.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, heavy feeling in my Noise. “You don’t like to get your hands dirty.”
He catches my eye. “Oh, there are going to be plenty of dirty days ahead. Don’t you worry.”
And then “CHARGE!!!” Mr Hammar screams at the top of his lungs–
And the war is on.
{VIOLA}
“Wilf!” I yell, riding over to him. He’s driving an ox-cart, out in front and off to the side of the first line of the Answer, still marching down the road in the smoky gloom.
“Yer alive!” Wilf says, hopping down off the cart and scooting over to me. “Mistress Coyle tol’ us yoo were dead.”
Anger fills my stomach again over what Mistress Coyle tried to do, at the bomb she intended for the Mayor and how she didn’t seem to mind that it would take me with it. “She’s wrong about a lot of things, Wilf.”
He looks up at me and in the light of the moons, I can see the fright in his Noise, fright in the most unflappable man I’ve ever met on this whole planet, a man who risked his life to save both me and Todd more than once, fright in the one man around here who’s never afraid. “The Spackle are comin, Viola,” he says. “Ya gotta get outta here.”
“I’m riding to get help, Wilf–”
Another BOOM rips through a building across the road from us. There’s a small blast wave and Wilf has to hold on to Acorn’s reins to keep standing up. “What the hell are they doing?” I yell.
“Mistress’s orders,” Wilf says. “To save the body, ya sometimes have to cut off the leg.”
I cough from the smoke. “That sounds exactly like the kind of stupid thing she’d say. Where is she?”
“Took off when that ship done flew over. Riding fast to where it landed.”
My heart jumps. “Where did it land, Wilf? Where exactly?”
He motions back down the road. “Yonder hill, where tower used to be.”
“I knew it.”
There’s another distant blast of the horn. Every time it goes off, there’s yet more screaming from the townsfolk running everywhere. I even hear some screaming from the army of the Answer.
“Ya gotta run, Viola,” Wilf says again, touching my arm. “Spackle army is bad news. Ya gotta go. Ya gotta go now.”
I fight down a flash of worry about Todd. “You’ve got to go, too, Wilf. Mistress Coyle’s trick didn’t work. The Mayor’s army is already back in town.” Wilf sucks in air over his teeth. “We’ve got the Mayor,” I continue, “and Todd’s trying to stop the army, but if you attack head on, you’ll be slaughtered.”
He looks back at the Answer, still marching down the road, faces still set, though some of them are seeing me and Wilf, seeing me alive on horseback, and surprise is starting to dawn. I hear my name more than once.
“Mistress Coyle said to keep marching,” Wilf says, “keep bombing, no matter what we heard.”
“Who’d she leave in charge? Mistress Lawson?” There’s a silence and I look back down at Wilf. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
He nods slowly. “She said Ah was the best at follering orders.”
“Yet another mistake she made,” I say. “Wilf, you have to turn them round.”
Wilf looks back at the Answer, still coming, still marching. “Other mistresses won’t lissen to me,” he says, but I can hear him thinking.
“Yes,” I say, agreeing with his thought, “but everyone else will.”
He looks back up to me. “Ah’ll turn ’em round.”
“I have to get to the ship,” I say. “There’ll be help there.”
Wilf nods and points his thumb back over his shoulder. “Second big road up back yonder. Mistress Coyle’s got twenty minutes on ya.”
“Thank you, Wilf.”
He nods again and turns back to the Answer. “Retreat!” he yells. “Retreat!”
I urge Acorn along again and we ride past Wilf and the astonished faces of Mistresses Lawson and Nadari at the front of the Answer line. “On whose authority?” Mistress Nadari snaps.
“Mine!” I hear Wilf say, strong as I’ve ever heard him.
I’m already passing through the Answer and pushing Acorn as fast as he’ll go and so I don’t see Wilf when he says, “And hers!”
But I know he’s pointing at me.
[TODD]
Our front line sprints across the clearing like a wall falling down a hill–
Men running in a V-shape with Mr Hammar screaming on horseback at its tip–
The next line of men sets off a split second later so now there’s two rows running at breakneck speed towards the line of Spackle, guns out but–