The night was quiet. Very quiet.
Kelser sat at the top of the north gate. The rocks were cold in her ass. He had a plate of cold beans on his lap. It was very salty. He ate anyway.
No one was going to sleep today.
He looked up at the hill. Up there the thousands of Tian fires shone like stars. Twelve thousand men. Waiting for the sun to rise.
Jian climbed the steps of the wall. He had two bottles of plum brandy in his hand. He sat next to Kelser and passed one.
"I stole it from the council's warehouse," he said. "If we die tomorrow no one will complain."
Kelser opened the bottle. He took a big sip. It burned. Good.
"How many do we have?" he asked.
"Mina has finished counting," Jian said. "Three thousand one hundred and seventy-two. Of these twelve hundred he has a decent sword. Four hundred don't even have armor. Three hundred are old, more than sixty. Two hundred are children under seventeen."
Kelser nodded. The numbers were worse than he thought.
"And they have twelve thousand."
"Yes."
"No plan?" Jian asked. "No ice trick? Not one thing from Asura that you never told us?"
Kelser looked at the beans.
"No," he said. "I don't have any plans."
Jian laughed. He took another sip.
"Good. At least you're honest."
They sat in silence for fifteen minutes. Looking at the campfires.
"If we survive," Jian said suddenly. "We are going to open a tavern. There in the central square. No politics. No battle. Just beer and beans. And no one can ask anyone to save the world."
Kelser smiled. It was the first time he had smiled in nearly a month.
"Combined."
Mina appeared at the top of the wall. She stopped there for a second, watching them.
"You two will want to come see this."
They went down. When they reached the other side of the gate, Kelser stopped.
The whole square was full of people.
Not soldiers. People. The blacksmith with his big hammer. The farmers with scythes. The baker with a bread-making stick. A seventy-year-old woman with scissors to cut fabric. A fourteen-year-old boy with a hunting bow.
No one was screaming. No one was making a speech. They were just standing there. Waiting.
When they saw Kelser no one screamed. No one applauded. They just stared.
Kelser walked to the middle. He didn't know what to say.
"You don't have to be here," he said finally. "Tomorrow will be ugly. Many of you are going to die. You can still go. No one is going to judge you."
The old woman with the scissors stepped forward. She was seventy years old, and was shorter than Kelser's shoulder. She spat on the floor.
"And you could have gone too. When the poison was in the water. When everyone was screaming your name. You could have taken your horse and left. And you didn't go."
She tapped the scissors on the palm of her hand.
"So neither will we."
Nobody said anything. But everyone waved.
Kelser felt a lump in his throat. He couldn't say anything. He just waved.
People began to disperse. To pick up your things. To sleep an hour if they could.
Elara appeared out of nowhere. She took his hand. Hers was cold.
"I made poison for the arrows," she said. "It doesn't kill quickly. It hurts a lot."
"Boom", Kelser these.
They climbed back to the top of the wall. The sun was going to rise in two hours.
"I have to tell you something," Elara said. She didn't look at him. She looked at the fires. "If you die tomorrow I will not surrender. I'm going to poison the entire reservoir. I'm going to kill everyone who enters the city. Everyone."
Kelser shook her hand.
"If you die. I'm going to freeze the whole city. No one gets out alive. Neither do they. Neither did I."
"Agreed," she said.
They sat there until the sun began to rise. The first ray of sunlight came red, ugly, like blood.
Up on the hill the trumpets sounded.
Kelser looked. The army was forming. Lines and lines and lines of shining armor. Twelve thousand men. All ready.
He stood up. He took his sword that was leaning against the stone. His shoulder hurt when he stood up.
Jian appeared next to him. Mine on the other.
"Ready?" Jian said.
Kelser looked at them. He looked at the city behind him. He looked at the sea of men in front.
He still had no plan. He still knew that the chances were almost zero.
But he was no longer afraid.
He pulled the sword from its scabbard.
"Well," he said. "Here we go."