In the convoluted streets of Ishalem, the new Uraban buildings all looked the same, with similar architecture, whitewashed walls, and tiled roofs. Colorful silk awnings were stretched out above placards written in incomprehensible foreign characters.
Iaros hadn’t the slightest idea how to get to Arkship Hill, but he led his men vaguely upward on the principle that so long as they kept moving, they were making progress. Sooner or later, if Queen Anjine had managed to break through the wall, he was sure his fighters would meet up with the main Aidenist army.
Uraban shopkeepers and families fled screaming as the disheveled Tierrans pushed through the streets, shouting and waving their swords. They snarled at carpenters and coopers; they smashed a glassblower’s shop and hurled the shards of colored bottles onto the cobblestoned streets.
When a portly man with a bushy beard tried to defend his wickerwork shop, Iaros commanded his fighters to leave the man alone. “No need to prove your manhood by slaying a craftsman. There’ll be enough Curly soldiers to kill.” Iaros barked for the disappointed soldiers to follow him as he ran ahead.
They paused long enough to ransack a food stall displaying bowls of dates, grapes, and pomegranates (though the latter proved much too messy and difficult to eat on the run). After drinking from a public water fountain, they charged onward.
They were closer now to the central hill that had once held the wreck of Aiden’s Arkship. Once the Tierrans conquered that landmark, they would truly hold the heart of Ishalem. Iaros extended his arm. “To Arkship Hill!”
He led his group in the right general direction, chasing chickens and cats out of their way, only to be brought up short when the street hit a dead end. So they reversed direction, clattering swords and shields against the brick walls, and rushed back out, down another street, through a marketplace, and past several small Urecari churches, until finally they could see a clear path up the hill.
Running toward the path, they collided with a mass of Uraban guards, who did not expect the encounter either. With undiminished momentum and enthusiasm, the Tierran soldiers engaged the guards. Iaros immediately saw that they had overestimated themselves. Enemy fighters outnumbered them two to one, and they were fresh, while his own men were already worn out from battling their way through the streets for many hours.
But there was no stopping them now. Iaros raised his sword and yelled like a bull mammoth during mating season. The sound startled the Urabans so much that he was able to dispatch one and wound another before they rallied.
When the enemy guards regrouped, Iaros and his men found themselves surrounded and battling for their lives. The Tierrans fought with a reckless fury that startled the enemy; they killed two more Urabans, but after several Aidenist soldiers fell, their morale began to turn.
Iaros stabbed, thrust, and slashed repeatedly, though his limbs felt leaden. “Keep fighting!” It was all they could do, but he felt a growing dread that none of them would survive to reach Arkship Hill.
As he was being driven back by a particularly burly Uraban fighter, Iaros realized he would soon collapse. His responses were sluggish, and he barely avoided a fatal mistake. Panting heavily, he flicked perspiration from his red hair and raised his sword to ward off another blow. Suddenly his attacker reeled backward with a grunt of surprise.
With a feral roar, a big soot-streaked man appeared among them. “Need some help, nephew?” Destrar Broeck grinned savagely and rammed a Urecari fighter with a body blow that knocked the man off balance. When the opponent fell, Broeck thrust his sword into his chest and yanked it back out. “Next time, pick your fights more wisely.”
“Uncle, you’re alive!” Iaros cried.
“A few explosions and a sinking ship aren’t enough to stop me.” Though burned and blood-streaked, with a wild look in his eyes, Broeck laughed and fought with increasing frenzy. The destrar’s berserker energy turned the tide, and the Uraban guards scattered into the marketplace. A few Tierran soldiers laughed and tried to give chase, but Broeck and Iaros called them back.
Iaros gave his uncle a quick embrace. “I wasn’t ready to be destrar yet.”
“Are you ready to conquer Ishalem?”
The younger man gave a vigorous nod. “We’re heading up the hill!”
The two Iborians led the charge.