Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 520
knew release--
--and was pulled back from the brink by shouting men.
Galas screamed, and fought, and screamed again.
Struggling, screaming, she was dragged back across the roof
and down the stairs, to the waiting arms of her duennas.
Calandria May stood next to one of the steam cannon.
She held her section of a long ladder over her head, and
listened with the other men as their commander told them the
riches awaiting those who had volunteered to be first to storm
the palace walls.
The steam cannon hissed and bucked, distracting her with
its raw primitive power. It was a simple device--just a boiler
that aimed its steam at a crude turbine. The turbine turned a
wooden wheel like a narrow mill wheel six meters across.
Instead of scooping water, its vanes took up gravel and stones
and white hunks of rock salt from a hopper underneath, swept
it around and up through a covered section and released it at
the top of the circle. A steady stream of gravel and stones
spewed at the walls, bringing back a crackling sound like a
distant rockfall.
Her force was one of ten taking up positions near the
main gates of the palace. The steam cannon had swept the
walls like brooms, knocking the defenders down or sending
them scurrying for cover. Cannon inside the walls were firing
back, but they were now firing blind. Every now and then a
stream of falling stones would send one of the assault teams to
ground. Some men were hit, and when they fell they often
didn’t get up again.
Taking the main gates directly was impossible. The
portcullis was sunken by about four meters, and the ceiling of
the entranceway was full of murder holes. The defenders were