Breaking an Empire by James Tallett Page A

matter. Today was not that day, and he gripped his shield tight, looking over the rim at the sweeping expanse of city before him. He could feel the strong breath of the wind, and a tang in the air that had to be the salt from the sea, and he wondered at the Lianese love of archery in such a windy clime.
    Glanhaol Fflamboethi shifted its formation, changing from column to line abreast, facing Niam Liad. Atop the ramparts distant, Locsyn could see dancing pennants and deadly soldiers, each preparing in their own way for the day to come. Despite the consistent failings of the Lianese soldiers, he thought they might have a trick or two up their sleeves. Looking towards the city, Locsyn could see a series of brown patches cut into the earth, making a ring about the walls. They were range markers, and when the Veryan soldiers crossed that line, they could expect to be showered with arrows. Further in, there were more marks, and those must designate the javelins.
    The horn sounded once, then twice, and the Veryan soldiers moved forward at a slow march, shields high and facing to the fore. The Lianese watched them come, and upon the battlements they readied their bows, placing quivers against the crenellations and waiting for the order to fire. Glanhaol Fflamboethi strode closer, pride stiffening the posture of all the soldiers within her, until they stopped a hundred yards outside the archery marks. Another horn sounded, and the mages turned their thoughts inwards, gathering strength for the first attack. The battle paused for a moment, until the first of the giant fireballs arced upwards, aimed not to strike the walls, but to fly overhead and come down within Niam Liad.
    The first wave launched, the mages disappeared into the squads surrounding them, taking up sword and shield like normal soldiers as the army shifted itself about, disguising their positions with the movement. As the fireballs closed with the city, great gusts of wind rose from the walls beneath. The howling gales tore at the fire, deflecting some, but most crashed within the city, and the soldiers of Glanhaol Fflamboethi could see buildings catch alight. A cheer rose from the gathered troops, and with it another round of fireballs. These were attacked earlier by the airmages, and less of them made it through to Niam Liad.
    A triple blast sounded on the horn, signalling a change in targets for the firemages, and this time, as the first balls of fire arced upwards, long sheets of flame sped outwards, aimed to scour the battlements. Treating the fireballs as the primary targets, the airmages were able to stop almost all, but they turned their attention to the sheets of flame too late. The infernos swept over the wall, catching many soldiers and airmages. Others jumped, flinging themselves into the courtyards below to avoid the scorching blast. Dead or injured, it mattered not, they were out of the fight. Seizing the moment of distraction in the Lianese ranks, the firemages of Bhreac Veryan expended themselves, launching wave upon wave into the city, spreading the projectiles to land in all the many quarters and cantons of Niam Liad.
    Another cheer rose from the soldiers of Bhreac Veryan, for before them burned the capital of their enemy, a golden glow reaching to the sky. The Lianese left on the walls turned inwards, racing from their positions to try and dampen the fire, that or flee on the trading vessels in the harbour.
    Glanhaol Fflamboethi had achieved their goal, breaking apart and punishing the rebellious cities of the southern peninsula. Only Horaim was left standing, and perhaps that would change on the way north. It would take decades for Miath Mhor and Niam Liad to reclaim their prominence.
    Once more the horn sounded, this time the call for retreat. Work done, the army turned to the north. There was one more battle they must face this day, without the firemages, for they were too exhausted to offer more than token assistance. Rhyfelwyr had been forced to