Page 77 of The Merciless Ones
“Perfect for a shield!” I gasp.
“You can use them to run to the walls. Your armour should keep you from boiling inside them in case they fire flaming arrows at you.” Infernal armour, among other things, is heat retardant.
“And then what?” This question comes from Belcalis, who has been silently taking in the discussions. “We can’t climb the walls holding vats over our heads.”
Karmoko Calderis’s mouth spreads into a smug grin. “Who said you had to climb? You can just blast your way through. I’ve been gathering ingredients all this while. I’ve got enough to make some lovely bagba.”
Karmoko Thandiwe laughs. “Bagba? Calderis, you sly old fox.”
As Karmoko Calderis beams with pleasure, Keita frowns. “And what exactly is bagba?”
“A type of explosive,” Belcalis explains. “Very unstable. It can easily put a hole through both walls. And our bellies if you’re not careful.”
“So you’re familiar with it,” Karmoko Calderis says, a calculating look in her eyes.
Belcalis shrugs. “I’ve handled it before.” When the karmoko just looks at her, she explains, “I used to work for an apothecary who dabbled.”
Karmoko Calderis grins. “Then you’ll be part of the first wave.”
Belcalis nods in agreement while Britta, Keita and I all glance at each other. None of us have any interest in handling explosives.
“Wait,” Belcalis suddenly says. “Bagba’s very loud. If we’re trying to stop the outside jatu from rushing over, doesn’t it defeat the purpose to blow a deafening hole through the walls of the Warthu Bera?”
“I might actually have a plan for that,” Karmoko Huon volunteers. “The Army of the Goddesses – wait, that is what it’s calling itself, is it not?” When I nod in the affirmative, she continues, “It’s still stationed outside the city wall, correct?”
I nod again.
“Well, what if it unleashes a new weapon – one that can enter the n’goma? Calderis, can you get a quick little breastplate fitted with the kaduth? We need someone to get past the wall…” She stares speculatively down at Ixa, who burrows his head in my neck, unnerved.
Deka? he squeaks.
I look down at him. Ixa, I say. I have a favour to ask you.
It takes about thirty minutes for the screams to start. They begin sporadically at first, a few shouts of surprise from the jatu on the walls. Then come the explosions, all so loud, they reverberate through the city. Ixa, now in a winged version of his true form, is doing just as I asked, dropping the bagba at different points along Hemaira’s wall to disorient the jatu there. Thankfully, the breastplate Karmoko Calderis fitted him with is doing exactly what it’s meant to: preventing the n’goma from taking hold of him. Even now, he’s dropping a few more breastplates with notes attached on them to the alaki outside the wall, telling them they have to use the kaduth to get past the n’goma’s wall of fire. Frantic drumbeats are already rising, all calling for reinforcements.
The Warthu Bera’s drums sound a swift reply: We’re on our way.
Men are running for the outer gates, following the orders of their commanders. Compared to the crisis that seems to be happening outside, exterminating the Warthu Bera of its now-useless alaki is suddenly very much a secondary concern. Every jatu in the city has his attention focused on Hemaira’s walls now.
Which is exactly what we wanted.
I turn to Britta and the twins, who are all wearing carefully fitted suits of golden armour. Karmoko Calderis has made hundreds of suits in secret to prepare for this day – the day when the alaki of the Warthu Bera rip off their bonds and free themselves as well as the rest of the training grounds in the city. They’re not the only ones wearing armour, however: Keita is armoured in gold as well, as is fitting for his role as our guide. He knows all the weak spots in the walls and will be another shield for Belcalis, who’s carrying the bagba, since she’s the only one who knows how to set it off properly. Once we blast a path through the walls, the karmokos and the rest of the alaki will follow and use the kaduth-emblazoned wagons to help the alaki – and anyone else who wants it – to escape the city.
“Ready?” I call, glancing at the rest of the group.
“Ready,” Britta says, hoisting her vat.
Adwapa and Asha swiftly do the same, as does Keita.
Only Belcalis doesn’t respond, and when I turn to her, she’s still unarmoured and seems to be searching for the dagger in her boot. “Belcalis,” I begin, concerned, “where is your armour?” I know she can’t be planning on using her gift – the armour it creates is patchy and uneven.
Belcalis doesn’t seem to feel the same because she smirks at me as she slices her palm open, holding it up to display the blood, which spreads swiftly up her arm and then over the rest of her body. In less than a minute, she’s gleaming completely golden, even the strands of her hair like golden threads now. Her new armour fits so closely to her, it seems like a second skin, but I know from experience that it’s just as hard and tough as infernal armour. I shiver, simultaneously awed and intimidated by the sight. It took me weeks – well-nigh a month, really – to master my voice, but Belcalis has mastered her gift in less than a week. I suddenly feel woefully inadequate.
“This is my armour,” she says smugly as I gape.
It’s almost as if she’s in the gilded sleep, as if she’s been killed and is regenerating, except her expression isn’t peaceful like that of a girl who’s regenerating. It’s filled with purpose.
“Shall we?” she says, gesturing.