Spring, Eighteenth Year of the Xin Zhuo Emperor

The attacks continued in ebbs and flows throughout the night. All were repulsed, though the effort slowly wore down the defenders as fighters steadily fell in combat or were incapacitated by exhaustion.

Every hour, the besieged sent out another message to the governor, to no avail.

$Where is the governor?$ Arshak asked after the sixth such attempt.

$None of our messages have been answered. None of our birds have returned.$ Denag uneasily reported back from the Matriarch.

$Then we are alone.$ That statement sank like a stone among the embattled defenders.

$What is our current strength?$ The Chief Factor continued.

$Half of the guard has fallen. Even with the volunteers, we number perhaps three hundred.$ Bisutun replied.

Arshak simply nodded. $We just need to hold on until sunrise. The mob will lose strength in the light, and the tides will allow our ships to maneuver and bring in reinforcements.$

$Let us in!$ Further conversation was interrupted by a sudden call from outside the gate.

Atop the walls, the defenders stared stunned as a family of five Berang appeared in front of the main gate, looking dirty, battered and scared, but otherwise unharmed.

$Who are you? How did you get through the blockade?$ The captain of the guard called down.

$We're the Tajirs!$ The husband called back. $We hid when the rioting broke out, and made it here as soon as things looked safe!$

The fact that all members of the family cast furtive glances around the empty streets did nothing to allay suspicion.

$Does anyone know them?$ Arshak asked following the reports.

$I do.$ One of the guards replied. $One of the salt merchants. Runs a shop near the pans of the delta.$

$Can we trust them?$

$Honorable family, generally.$

$It's a trap.$ Bisutun insisted.

$Of course it's a trap, but we have to try to save them!$ Arshak snapped in reply. The captain simply nodded.

Quickly, all the guards that could be spared were positioned at the gate, keeping a wary eye upon the suspiciously empty streets and buildings of the predawn darkness.

$We will open the gates. When that happens, I want you all to run, and to not stop until you reach the ancestral chambers. Do you all understand?$ The Chief Factor called over.

$Yes.$ The patriarch nervously replied.

The gate swung open, barely passable for a single individual.

$Now!$

Just as the Tajir family was quickly hustled into the ghetto, the human mob reappeared, thousands flooding out from surrounding buildings and with the unearthly scream of demons surged towards the opening.

$Here they come!$

$Close the gates!$

Slowly the gates swung shut, archers, crossbowmen and gonners firing their projectiles into the crowd, trying to keep the mob at bay. However it was like trying to hold back the tides. The attacking mob surged through the street, brushing off those who fell to the defenders, and slammed against the portcullis just as it was about to close, a dozen staffs and jis and spears jamming into the gap and locking the gateway open.

$Oh no.$

Desperately the Berang tried to close the doorway, guards shooting point blank through the void and thrusting blindingly with their polearms, but to no avail. For every weapon thrown back two more joined, and gradually the gate began to be pried open.

With a crash, the heavy gate was thrown ajar. First a trickle, then a flood of humans burst through the doorway, overwhelming the two score defenders. Within minutes the front square became a slaughterhouse, most of the Berang survivors fleeing for their lives.

Arshak saw enough. From his cot, the Chief Factor struggled to his feet, calling out to his guard and any stragglers and defenders in the immediate vicinity of the square.

$We must retake the gateway at all costs! Who’s with me?$ He called, his voice still hoarse. A hundred odd defenders cheered weakly, knowing who their commander was, and understanding the desperate situation unfolding before them.

They would retake the gate and shut it, or they would all die.

Arshak nodded.

$For the Matriarch! For our people!$

With that, the Chief Factor and his scratch force charged desperately into the rapidly approaching mass of mad humans.

Five minutes of brutal physical combat followed, a chaotic mess of blood, ichor, and steel, yells mixed with screams and the clash of wood and blades. Like wading fishermen at the beach, Arshak and his scratch force smashed through the mob, trudging slowly, deliberately, each step violently opposed by the enemy whose inexorable current swept Berang comrades away.

The Chief Factor fought in a never-ending nightmare, his earlier near death experience nearly forgotten in successive waves of succeeding near death experiences. Vologases fell, a spade driven through his abdomen. Arshak dodged a violent swing of a bian that caved in Tabari's head; the Berang leader avenged his comrade by disemboweling his killer. Every step to the gate was being paved with blood, but he was approaching, and soon they could try to shut it back-

Denag suddenly appeared beside him. $The Matriarch orders everyone to retreat immediately!$

The Chief Factor was in shock. They were so close-

$What? We can retake the gate!$

$That is an order!$

Arshak hesitated for only a second. Denag would only relay precise orders from their leader. And the Matriarch would only give orders that must be obeyed.

$I obey the Matriarch. Fall back!$ The Chief Factor announced.

Immediately Arshak's strike force halted and began retreating, giving up their hard won advance and releasing their pressure against the mob.

With a cheer, the rioters flooded right back into the void, torches raised and weapons ready for slaughter as they drove triumphantly towards victory.

“Kill them all!” The screams echoed across the square.

Rallying at the front hall with the remnants of the embattled defenders, Arshak closed his eyes. He gave a quick prayer to Mazda. He needed faith for what was to come next.

And that faith was granted.

Suddenly it seemed like the entire world exploded. Scores of blinding lights flashed seemingly simultaneously, while a deafening clap echoed through the city, then a hail of smaller objects screamed through the air like demons. For a second it seemed like a small sun had appeared in the gateway. Then gradually the light dimmed again, smoke shrouded the landscape and the unearthly noises died off, replaced by screams and cries of pain. When the smoke lifted, the entire enemy mob was gone save for random limbs and scraps of flesh and a few bodies. The gate itself seemed to have been sprayed red, and a fine red mist slowly drifted to the ground.

The Chief Factor stared in shock at where their opponents had been and who seemed to have abruptly disappeared off the face of the Earth. Then he turned back towards the source of the original flash.

While Arshak had led the fighting against the mob at the Main Gate, the Matriarch had collected and assembled all the colony's gonnes, signaling cannons, foreign incendiaries and rockets, and as soon as the Berang obeyed the order to retreat everything had been ignited.

Now Boran Kawadokht stood resplendent at one end of the square with torch in hand, surrounded by dozens of emptied tubes of improvised gunpowder weapons, stunningly beautiful in her richly embroidered khalat despite it being covered in smoke and powder. She smiled at her husband as some of the guards hesitantly went ahead and finally pushed the desperately fought over-and now entirely unopposed-gate shut.

$That will do, love.$ The Martriach stated.

Arshak returned the grin.

$I love you, honey.$

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George Lam -A Man should Strengthen Himself (Once Upon A Time In China Theme)

From  SilverThePhoenix!