Mantlets was one name Shimmer knew for them. Rattels, else-where, pavises as well. In practice they could take many shapes, depending upon the purposes one had in mind and the material available. Large movable shields usually built during sieges to defend attacking crossbowmen, bowmen or sappers. Voss supervised the construction of as many as they could pull together. Held side by side in a tight circle Shimmer would move her command inside a turtle – just like the one the remnants of the 3rd Company reported using to escape their imprisonment.

Yells and the crash of wood in the distance marked another element advancing – Shimmer watched down a side street while hundreds of armed citizens, this Untan volunteer militia, ran to cover the shifting action. Gods, everyone in the city had a crossbow and armfuls of bolts. It was as if they'd kicked a hornet's nest and now couldn't extricate their foot from it. Voss came to her side. ‘How many?’ she asked.

‘Enough – better than none.’

‘Are we ready?’

‘Could use more time. Do the job right, you know. But they're gathering out there, aren't they.’

‘Yes. We have no time. Pull the door and let's go.’

Voss saluted, the single fist to the chest. ‘Aye, sir.’

The sturdy front door was yanked from its hinges. Bolts stormed through the opening like driven rain. Everyone had already taken cover. Two mantlets were brought up side by side then edged out one after the other to cover the opening in a ‘V shape. Shimmer waved up the next pair. Crossbow bolts slammed into the shields in a steady driven rhythm like hail. A tossed lit lantern smashed against the wall spraying burning oil. The Guardsmen flinched, but continued on. At her side Smoky pointed, mouthed, ‘See!’

Eventually a full turtle of hefted tall shields now protected her command. Snipers in the taller buildings would still have line of sight down within, but it was the best they could throw together. The tavern's front door served as the final rear mantlet closing all egress. Shimmer peeked ahead through a gap in the timbers. Tossed torches, lamps and lanterns now punished them. The ferocity of the attack amazed her; it was as if the citizens were determined to burn down their own city to get them. Voss had everyone who could carrying water and had doused everyone as they exited, but the flames still inflicted casualties. It was an ugly way to go – Shimmer would prefer anything quicker.

‘Left,’ she called, directing them to a narrower alley. Before them a ragged mob of armed citizen militia struggled to simultaneously fire their crossbows and retreat. It proved too much for them and they melted away in a general panic of falling bodies and dropped weapons. As they passed over the spot the Guardsmen helped themselves to the weapons. Yet the punishment from the rear was intense; the occasional bolt found an opening and men fell.

‘Return fire!’ Voss was yelling in the rear.

‘Smoky!’ Shimmer called.

‘On it.’

Flames roared up behind the turtle of jostled mantlets, cutting off the alley.

‘How long?’ she asked.

‘Not long.’

They emerged on to a major north-south avenue lined by vendors’ stalls fronting three-storey brick merchants’ shops. Fleeing citizenry thronged its centre, flowing south to the waterfront. Bands of armed militia crossed the flow, shifting to new hot spots. All of the citizens stopped, stared at the emerging turtle and fled screaming.

‘Left again,’ Shimmer called.

Bumping and banging, the ungainly beast lurched left. Through the gap Shimmer could now see down the long slow descent of the avenue to ship masts lit by the glow of the widespread flames. ‘I see the harbour!’ she called. A cheer went up within the turtle. The staccato impacts of bolts picked up now that their pursuers had poured into the avenue and flowed to surround them once again. A lantern tossed from a third-storey window burst among them splashing burning oil everywhere.

‘Hold tight!’ Shimmer yelled over the screams as men and women clawed at themselves and rolled to the cobbles. ‘Douse them! Cloaks!’ Abandoned, a mantlet table-top fell and a storm of bolts lashed into the exposed interior. ‘Tighten up!’

A bolt slammed into Shimmer's side, knocking her to her knees. ‘Close up!’ she gasped, righting herself.

‘They're rushing us,’ a Guardsman warned.

‘Ready weapons! Keep moving!’ Shimmer took a long-knife from the belt of the Guardsman supporting the mantlet before her,

‘Prepare to repel boarders!’ some wit called out.

A spear thrust between mantlets, its leaf-shaped blade skittering from Shimmer's armour. She dropped the long-knife, took hold of the spear and yanked it from its bearer. Holding it up tall to reverse it, she then pushed it out, impaling the man. ‘My thanks!’

She thrust to keep the militia back from the mantlets, called again and again, ‘Keep moving!’ At every breath the bolt in her side sent a sheer of agony through her that darkened her vision.

Then the hand of a God knocked everyone flat.

A great wall of air punched the breath from Shimmer's chest. Dust, smoke and debris stormed over them, obliterating all visibility as if the entire city were being carried out to sea. A moment later all the roof tiles suddenly leapt from the buildings to fly like birds off in a wind of smoke and ash. More crashed down all about like rain. The ground shuddered, bouncing them. She squinted through the dust to see an enormous billowing cloud swelling over the city. It was lit from within by lurid bursts of flame, bloating, climbing, taller it seemed than any mountain. Across the way a three-storey brick building was obliterated by a solid stone block the size of a small boat smashing down into it.

The wall of thunder slowly faded. Small pieces of burning debris fell about like intermittent rain. Carefully, amazed by the mere fact of her continued life, Shimmer pushed herself upright. She weaved, clutched at her side where the bolt emerged obscenely. Without daring to stop to think about what she meant to do, she took hold with all her strength and yanked it out. The white-hot resistance of her own flesh drove her to her knees again. All about, men and women, citizens and Guardsmen, were standing, peering about amazed. A pale white ash began to fall from the swelling churning cloud. It drifted thickly like tattered feathers and covered everything as if in a layer of down. ‘The harbour,’ Shimmer croaked and kicked the nearest Guard. ‘Smoky!’

‘Aye…’ A ghost-like shape beneath a blanket of ash stirred to life, sat up.

‘What in Hood's Own Shade was that?’

Dark eyes in a white mask blinked to life. He stood, shook his kinky hair raising a cloud of dust. ‘I think that was maybe the greatest natural explosion ever yet set off by humans.’

‘I've never seen anything like it.’

‘No. Nor will we ever again, I expect.’

‘Gods on earthy she breathed amazed. ‘We better get out of here before these Untan fools decide we did it. They'll tear us limb from limb.’

Smoky glanced around at the ash-cloaked figures dazedly stirring to life and wandering aimlessly: a city of ghosts awakening. He blinked owlishly. ‘I expect you're right…’

‘Move out, Guardsmen!’

Greymane did not witness the actual explosion. He'd been looking away, scanning for activity among the anchored Malazan man-o-wars, when the light suddenly changed – a great white flash threw his shadow across the deck and punched shouts of amazement and alarm from the men on the vessel. When he turned to look the light was gone. In its place rose an immense cloud of smoke that swelled even as he watched, billowing and burgeoning over the city. All across the waterfront great knots of birds scattered, wheeling their panic. While Greymane stared a wave seemed to pass over the city, bursting tiled rooftops, toppling spires, racing outward from the blast until it reached the waterfront. He had a moment to yell, ‘Brace yourselves!’ as it jumped the intervening water of the harbour, frothing the calm surface as it charged. Then it struck the vessel, tearing away half-lowered sails like paper and batting the ship like a toy. The thunderclap was so loud it deadened Greymane's ears, leaving him insensible of any sounds; men's mouths moved and equipment fell but no sound reached him. His first thought was: so ends the Guard. Obliterated by Laseen in one titanic explosion. But the blast seemed to have originated much farther inland from the fires marking the fighting. He'd have to make sure.