It was a strange ceremony, Mere thought, watching the insect­oid archmagos caress each in turn. At last she withdrew her mechadendrites, and at an unseen signal the volcanic plasma engines kicked into life. Reactors roared, chimneys vented scorching fumes, gun loaders whirred with anticipation and the earth shook as they began to rumble ponderously forward, their quad tracks leaving impressions nearly three-feet deep.

News of the landing of the Leviathans spread waves of both gloom and excitement across the siege camp. Some soldiers wept, sensing their doom in the battle ahead. Others, like the Cadians, were glad that the long wait was over. The sooner they fought this battle, the sooner they could move on.

Whiteshield Yedrin saw them as he returned from a last month’s intensive training in the abandoned trenches north of Starport. Zweden was with him. They were tired but they stood to see the Leviathans rolling towards them.

They had never seen anything so fitted out for war.

‘Holy Throne,’ Yedrin said.

Zweden let his breath whistle between his teeth. The fact that there were three of them only seemed to add to their monstrous power. They moved inexorably, like glaciers, or time.

Behemoths of war, with a sole purpose: to break Traitor Rock.

Fourteen

FOURTEEN

The same day the Leviathans landed, the Cadians were given the order to strike camp. Minka went to each of her squad to pass on the news. Each one took it according to their nature. Orugi looked blankly at her. The quiet girl Karni said nothing, but went back to her rosary of metal skulls.

Lyrga said, ‘We’re moving out?’

Minka nodded.

‘Throne,’ Lyrga said. ‘I’d better get to the quartermaster.’

Dreno and Belus just nodded. Viktor was wearing his beret and was cleaning his carbine. Maenard was asleep. Allun was stripped down to his combat vest, going through his daily workout. His vest was stained with sweat from his pectoral muscles and the small of his back. He wiped his forehead and nodded.

Baine had his feet up. He was retelling one of the tales of his Whiteshield training, but it wasn’t clear anyone was listening to him. He stood up when Minka entered.

‘Yes, boss?’

‘Tomorrow,’ she told him.

‘Tomorrow?’ Jaromir said, as if not quite remembering the meaning of the word.

Minka put a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. ‘Tomorrow.’

He nodded slowly. He looked up and said, ‘Will you come with me?’ He was not looking at anyone in the room. He was looking into the air above his head. ‘Be with me,’ he said again.

Minka did not really understand who he was talking to but she replied anyway. ‘They’ll be with you,’ she said.

Minka’s backpack stood in the corner of her room. She hung her grenades from the webbing, oiled her war-knife, cleaned the excess away and wiped down the sheath.