Rennic’s eyes were fixed on the broken gateway beyond the fire, and the courtyard beyond it, waiting to see what would come at them next. Those Mawn who had escaped the conflagration had fled back toward the bridge, but any moment he clearly expected to see them return.

‘Our friends of the cloth came and went half a dozen times yesterday, little man. You think this is their only throw today?’ He spat into the rubble. It hissed. ‘We might even see your pal Hurkel this time.’ He turned to Kosh. ‘How fast can you reload that thing?’

The Nort was staring at the pyre, the stench of burning meat swirling around her like a cape. The mask was slung around her neck. Rennic nudged her. ‘Hey, how fast can you reload?’

Her eyes took too long to focus. ‘It … it does … I …’ She took a long breath and blinked hard enough for a trickle of tears to leave the corners of her eyes. ‘It must be rebuilt. It was single-use.’

The lines deepened beneath Rennic’s eyes. He looked around for the guard captain. ‘Get your people back up on the walls. The gap in the bridge is plugged, and another wave of red fuckers is an inevitability. Be ready. Alchemist! We need the black powder, whatever you’ve got. We need to destroy that fucking gangplank on wheels.’

‘There is no more. We have used all I could produce.’

‘Then make more! Now!’

‘I cannot rush the process! The steeping needs a day and a night! More is brewing in the tower.’

‘When? When will it be ready?’

Already her gaze was returning to the snarling fire. ‘Tomorrow, maybe. If all goes … well.’

‘Fucking … what? Tomorrow?’

Chel pushed himself forward, stepping between the Nort and Rennic’s growing fury. ‘It’s all right. We’ll make do, right? Somehow.’

‘Not if a thousand armoured confessors come stomping over that bridge in the intervening,’ Rennic hissed in his ear.

The Nort was looking at her hands, blanched and shaking, still in place on the device’s levers. Tears streaked the dust of her cheeks.

Chel lowered his voice, gave Rennic a warning look. ‘Are you all right, Kosh?’

Grimacing, Rennic affected his best voice of concern. ‘You did it, right? Made them suffer?’

Sobbing, she tore off the mask and ran from the courtyard. Rennic pushed a hand through his matted hair and took a long, foul-smelling breath. ‘Norts.’

‘Is she— Do you think I should—’

‘She’ll be fine, she got what she wanted. Archers! To the walls. Form new barricades. Get eyes on the bridge, and watch for movement. Flaming arrows on that engine if we can. They’ll be coming again, and soon, and this time we’ve got nothing but our hands and our blood.’ Chel had no idea how much they understood, or how seriously they took him, but the house guards were moving in the right direction, at least.