The Kingmakers(13)

Below was the northern edge of the ragged Equatorian camp. The hard winter earth was scarred by a network of trenches and earthen bastions. In the distance were the yellow lights of St. Etienne itself, and several airships hovered in the sky over the town, lashed to buildings. In the darkness, soldiers huddled around small fires, shivering in their too-thin coats. The flames would impair the humans' night vision, which was poor in any case.

Gunfire came from the south as Murrd's forces struck. Sleepy disturbed voices rose from the trenches below. Flay whistled commands that sent the vampires plummeting on the unprepared men, and confused murmurs turned to screams.

Flay's vision went red. Bodies wrapped in overcoats stirred. Rifles swung clumsily. Soldiers scrambled for long-handled pikes, ducking and plunging the blades toward the sky. Flay struck, and cloth tore and blood flowed. Stunned eyes stared out from under khaki helmets. Vampires, someone screamed and then died. Questions were shouted. Pistols rose. Swords flashed wildly.

Lithe figures leapt along the edges of the trenches, dropping to strike, then springing up into the air, dodging blades, and falling on others farther down the line. Soldiers flailed around in the dirty pits, firing in all directions, and swinging pointless steel at vague shapes.

Flay slashed at a man and hit something hard. She saw a glimpse of chain mail on the man's chest. The man's head had no armor, however, so he was soon dead. A bullet entered her shoulder without great effect. She spun and smashed another soldier to the frozen ground before bounding high into the air to scout the situation again.

Thudding blasts filled the air, and shards of metal whizzed past Flay. She saw the flaming of the humans' heavy guns. A vampire to her right disintegrated into bits in midair. Flay followed the flashes back to the ground and dove like a stone, slamming into the three men operating a cannon. They shouted and reached for weapons. A short sword slashed at her. She struck once, twice, three times. All the men fell to the frozen mud.

Flay turned to see a young man, a boy really, staring at her from under a comically outsized helmet and coat that draped over him. His unsteady rifle pointed at her. He fired one shell after another and disappeared behind a curtain of white smoke until the trigger clicked empty. Flay stepped toward him.

The boy dropped the rifle and raised his hands. “Don't. Please. I surrender.”

She laughed. Her first swipe nearly took the flesh from his face. He tried to ward her off, and called for his mother. Then he was dead. Flay drank briefly from him, and found the lingering terror delicious. All around her, vampires huddled over bodies. She kicked several and urged them back into the fight.

A bright light caused Flay to flinch. A flare, and then another. The humans were finally sending their star shells overhead to illuminate the battlefield. Gunfire sounded regularly now, as well as the brutal staccato of machine guns and the repetitive boom of small cannons. A few vampires dropped from the sky, hit by the barrage. Others crouched low against the ground and scuttled like bugs.

Flay vaulted from trench to trench, killing with each hand. Then she felt a sharp edge push into her brain. She grabbed her head, but there was no wound. It was a sound that assaulted her. Shriekers. She had first experienced it when an American ship attacked the Tower of London. The sound was coming from a nearby airship where crewmen turned the crank on a machine that spit out a horrendous high-pitched wail. She wasn't damaged, but was disoriented. Vampires staggered, and one fell victim to a soldier's pike. Several more shriekers started up from other airships or ground stations around the camp.

Flay screamed commands that were only partially heard over the mechanical din. She fell back, and her packs started to draw away with her. They had done enough damage for now. Humans were easily surprised, but after the initial wave of shock and terror, they were quick to their guns and knives. Sustaining the attack now was unnecessary, and would expose the packs to concentrated fire. Vampires had the advantage of speed and mobility and surprise, as well as the ability to attack at night. Flay's tactic was to hit the humans, kill as many as possible in a short time, then withdraw to come again when she felt it was useful.

Her mission was to destroy this army by holding them in place and winnowing them away. If they attempted to come out of their defenses and move in force, either toward Lyon or to the relief of forces at Grenoble, Flay would cut them to pieces. Human armies could do two things relatively well—move or fight. They found it difficult to do both at the same time. They had too many things to carry.

Flay knew she would have to destroy the shriekers. Plus, the machine guns and shrapnel cannons were dangerous. Over the last 150 years, the humans had improved their claws. They could kill better now, but they still died easily.