I turned my attention back to the gatehouse, where four horsemen sat talking in front of two arched doors that lay open. A heavy grilled portcullis made of wood and lined with metal hung suspended above the doors along two grooves cut in the stone. I followed Jebido as he headed directly for the mounted men, shouting and waving his arms. The Ganders swung toward us as Jebido pointed behind him urgently. “The pass!” he shouted. “The Piths are attacking the pass!” One of the mounted men guided his horse a few steps forward. He wore a fur-lined cloak over his armour and surcoat and the cloak was clasped around his shoulders by a large Blazing Sun pendant. His eyes were brown and suspicious beneath his helm and his mouth, barley seen through his thick grey beard, was turned down with disapproval. Be careful, Jebido, I thought to myself as we came to a shuddering halt in a cloud of dust ten paces from the mounted men. “The Piths!” Jebido repeated, panting as he pointed to the east. “They’re attacking the pass!”
The man with the grey beard frowned. “Have you forgotten protocol, soldier?” he asked.
“But the Piths,” Jebido said weakly. He glanced at the unfriendly faces watching us. “They’re overrunning the pass as we speak!”
Several of the mounted men snickered and even the man with the grey beard almost smiled. “While I doubt that very much,” he said as he straightened in his saddle, “first things first. My name is Rand Lassan and I am the gate commander here. What is the watchword?”
Jebido slapped his hand against the top of his helmet. “Of course,” he said. “My apologies, Sir.” He shrugged his shoulders and grinned, looking very much like a simpleton I thought, as I admired his performance. “The watchword is Tyro.”
“Very well,” Lassan said. He flicked his eyes from Jebido, to me, then back to Jebido. “What’s this about then?”
“As I said, Sir,” Jebido replied. “The Piths have attacked the pass.” He hooked a thumb at me. “Hadrack and I barely got away. They were everywhere.”
Lassan frowned beneath his helmet. “We expected that,” he said with a shrug. He turned and glanced at the man nearest him, a brown-haired youth with a thin beard and scarred face. “Dolon, take seventy-five men and go support our men at the pass as we discussed.” The scar-faced youth turned to go and Lassan added, “Make sure every one of those Pith bastards is dead, understood?”
Dolon grinned. “Understood.”
“Do you think that will be enough men, Sir?” Jebido asked timidly.
“Eh?” Lassan muttered, turning his hard eyes on Jebido. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he said dismissively. “There’s only eighty or so of these Piths and some of them are women. They can’t break through the pass and we’ll box them in and wipe them out.”
“But there’s more than that!” I blurted out. Jebido gave me a look of warning, but I ignored him.
“What do you mean there’s more?” Lassan growled.
“They appeared out of nowhere,” I said breathlessly. “Hundreds and hundreds of them and they joined up with the others and rode for the pass. We tried to get around them to warn our men at the pass, but the Piths kept chasing after us until we had to flee, so we decided to come here. Isn’t that right, Jebido?” I said, glancing at my friend.
Jebido scratched his hooked nose and nodded. “As sure as Mother Above is watching over us, it is,” he said enthusiastically. “There’s got to be almost a thousand of the screaming heathens out there!”
Lassan pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed as he thought. Finally he seemed to come to a decision and he turned to Dolon. “Roll out the entire garrison!” he snapped. “And send someone to Prince Tyro’s camp and let him know what’s happening.”
“Do we ask him for help?” Dolon asked with a blank look.
Lassan made a face. “Just let Prince Tyro know what’s happening and carefully suggest to his Highness that it would be wise to send men to reinforce the pass from the south. Make sure that he understands the urgency of the situation.” He smashed his fist into his palm. “I don’t know where all these new Piths came from, but I swear by The Mother and The Father that not one of those murdering bastards will get away!” Lassan turned to us as Dolon headed through the gatehouse doors at a gallop, his horse’s hooves clacking loudly against the cobblestones as he disappeared from view. “You two will come with us when we ride out.”
I opened my mouth to say something, what I can’t imagine, but Jebido cut me off with a hard look and then he smiled at Lassan. “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said. Lassan barely nodded at us and then he swung down from the saddle, barking orders to his men. Jebido also dismounted and I did the same, hardly able to contain myself as I looked at Jebido desperately.
“What are we going to do?” I whispered fiercely as I glanced over my shoulder at Lassan. “We can’t go with them!”
Jebido shrugged and I automatically followed him as he walked closer to the river before stopping to stare out over the fast-flowing water. Finally, he handed me the reins of his horse and undid his trousers, pissing all over a small, thorny-looking weed with a spiked purple flower at its head that grew stubbornly among the rocks. “What choice do we have?” he asked as he finished and retied his trousers. “If we try to run now they’ll know something is wrong.” He removed his helmet to wipe the sweat from his forehead and glanced at the sky. “Don’t worry, Hadrack, I’ll think of something.”
We both turned and watched as the gatehouse doors on the far bank swung open and riders emerged into the sunlight, riding three abreast. Each man held a glittering lance with a yellow banner at the haft and each was dressed in mail and wore the king’s banner on his chest. They pounded across the bridge and behind them men holding long pikes trotted on foot in disciplined rows. Lassan mounted up and as the first riders passed through the gatehouse he kicked his horse into motion ahead of them. He pointed at us as he passed. “You two fall in behind.”
Jebido nodded to him and swung into the saddle, waiting as I clumsily pulled myself up onto my horse. We sat there as grim-faced riders passed us by, row after row of them moving at a fast trot, then fell into step behind the last of the mounted men. Behind us the foot soldiers were already falling behind as one of the riders in front of us turned in his saddle to grin at us in a friendly fashion. I realized he couldn’t be any older than I was.
“Are we really going to finally get a chance to fight the Piths?” the youth asked us eagerly.
“Sure looks that way,” Jebido muttered dryly.
“Mother’s tit!” the young Ganderman said happily. “It’s about time!”
“Careful what you wish for,” Jebido said to him, but the youth had already turned away and he didn’t seem to have heard.
We’d already lost sight of the bridge and were following a well-worn trail along the river, riding near the pine forest along the crest of the ground before it started to slope down toward the water. The foot soldiers behind us were nowhere to be seen by now and Jebido gave me a warning look before he called out to the young soldier in front of us, “Hey!” he shouted over the roar of the river. Jebido pulled up on the reins of his horse and it faltered, slowing down and I did the same as the Ganderman circled back to us.
“What’s wrong?” the youth asked as Jebido dismounted.
Jebido reached down and lifted his horse’s right foreleg, bending it back to stare at its hoof. He snorted in disgust and let the leg go as he straightened up. “Looks like I’ve thrown a shoe.”
“Ah,” the Ganderman said, not looking that concerned. He glanced over his shoulder at the disappearing column of mounted men and it was obvious that he wished that he hadn’t stopped.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jebido said, waving his hand at him. “Go join the others. It doesn’t look too bad and this big lad with me is the son of a smith. He’ll have this fixed in no time and we’ll be right behind you.”
“That’
s wonderful,” the youth said, glancing at me and looking hugely relieved. “You better hurry up, though. I can’t promise I’ll leave you any Piths to kill if you take too long.” Jebido laughed and waved in acknowledgement and the young Ganderman spun his horse around and galloped away.
“Not bad,” I said as Jebido hauled himself back up into the saddle.
“Smart and handsome is what my mother always used to say about me,” Jebido said with a smile.
I grinned back at him. “Well, she was half right.”
Jebido laughed at that and then motioned us into the trees as we could hear the marching feet of the foot soldiers rapidly approaching. We waited impatiently as they trudged past us and then finally, once they were gone, we returned to the open. “Now what?” I asked.
“Now we head back to the bridge and take command of that gatehouse.”
“How many men do you think are in there?” I asked.
Jebido shrugged as we turned and headed back the way we’d come. “I’ve no idea, but chances are most of them will be archers, which will make it easier.” We rode back as quickly we could and Jebido motioned forward with his chin as we pushed our way through the stand of shrubs and the bridge came into view. “We’ll find out soon enough either way,” he said. “As soon as we get close enough, ride your horse inside and kill anyone who tries to stop you.”
I nodded that I understood and stood up in the stirrups, pleased to note that my leg only protested a little bit as I glanced to the north. I could see a faint cloud of dust rising and I knew Eriz had returned to Einhard and told him that the ruse had worked.
“They’re coming,” I said to Jebido as I sat back down in the saddle. Jebido nodded, but said nothing as we guided our horses down the steep slope that led to the bridge and then we both halted our horses in dismay. The gatehouse doors were closed!
Chapter 9: The Bridge
“Mother’s tit!” I hissed under my breath as we drew closer to the gatehouse. I saw a single archer watching us from the ramparts as we trotted forward. “What do we do now?”
“We get them to open the gate,” Jebido said calmly out of the side of his mouth.
“Einhard will be here any minute,” I whispered back.
“I’m well aware of that, Hadrack,” Jebido grunted. We stopped our horses about twenty feet from the gate and looked up at the archer peering down at us. “Open up!” Jebido barked at the man.
The archer shook his head. “Can’t do it.”
Jebido blew air out of his nose angrily. “What do you mean you can’t do it?” he demanded. “We need to get inside.” I glanced nervously over my shoulder, expecting to see the Piths charging toward us. Thankfully there was no sign of them yet, but the dust cloud was getting nearer and I cleared my throat, trying to warn Jebido and hoping that the archer would stay focused on us and not notice the dust.
“The Commander said to keep the gate locked and not let anyone in,” the archer said with a shrug.
“He didn’t mean us you simpleton!” Jebido shouted up at him. “He meant the Piths you fool! Do we look like piss-drinking Piths to you?”
The archer studied us thoughtfully and I rolled my eyes and grit my teeth. “No, you don’t,” the man finally said. “Just the same, I can’t let you in.”
Jebido flung his hands up in exasperation. “Fine, then you can explain to Captain Lassan when he gets back why he didn’t have his favorite sword.” Jebido glanced at me and shrugged as I looked at him in surprise. The story was weak. He knew it and I knew it, but the Piths would be here any time now and we needed that gate open, so it would have to do.
“His sword?” the archer muttered, looking confused. The head and upper body of another archer appeared, then a third man leaned over to look down at us.
“What did he say?” one of the new men asked.
“He said Lassan forgot his sword and sent them back to fetch it,” the first archer replied.
“He was wearing his sword when he left,” the third man volunteered. “I saw it.”
“Are you sure?” the first archer asked. “I don’t remember seeing him wearing it.”
Jebido and I shared a look, as, for the moment it seemed we’d been forgotten as the three men argued over whether or not Lassan had actually taken his sword with him. “Not that sword!” Jebido finally shouted, cutting them off. “His other one.”
“Eh?” the first archer called down. “He has another one?”
“Sweet Mother’s tit!” Jebido swore up at them as he dismounted. “The one with the black and gold hilt he keeps in the garrison you blithering imbeciles! Surely you know which one I mean? The sword he keeps for special occasions. That’s the one he wants. Now open the doors and be quick about it! If we don’t return with it before we fight the Piths it’ll be someone’s head!” Jebido glowered up at them as he stood with his hands on his hips. “And I swear by The Mother and The Father that it won’t be our heads rolling in the dirt, it’ll be yours!”
“All right! All right!” the first archer called down. “There’s no need for that now. I’ll tell them to let you in!”
“Finally!” Jebido grunted. I dismounted and stood next to Jebido and he glanced at me. “Be ready,” he said. “Just follow my lead and don’t do anything until I do.” I nodded as we heard a thud and a screech and then the great wooden doors swung slowly inward.
From where we stood, the entrance was cast in deep shadow and we hurried forward, leading our horses through the high archway. I glanced up at the massive portcullis with its sharpened spikes hanging above us as we passed under it and I involuntarily shuddered at the thought of being pinned beneath those wicked points. A soldier stood to either side of the doors holding them open for us and I sighed in relief at the coolness inside the building after the scorching heat of the sun. The men-at-arms immediately closed the doors behind us and we blinked in the gloom and paused, waiting for our eyes to adjust. Torches burned weakly along the walls and it took a few moments before I was able to make out the faces of the Gandermen. I was pleased to see that there were just the two of them. Above our heads rose a high-vaulted ceiling made from cut stone and supported by a network of oak beams. I noticed large circular holes had been cut here and there through the stone and wood, giving the men above a good view of the gatehouse floor below them. Though I’d never seen them before, I knew that these were called murder holes, as Jebido had told me about them once. He’d explained that a common tactic used to snare an attacking party was to leave the castle or gatehouse doors open, inviting them in. Once the invaders entered, the portcullis at each end would then be dropped, trapping them inside, while from above the defenders would shoot arrows or throw rocks or whatever else they could find down onto the helpless men through the murder holes.
“This way,” one of the soldiers grunted disinterestedly, cutting off my thoughts as he motioned to a set of doors at the far end of the gatehouse identical to the ones we’d just passed through. The man was short and thin, with a pock-marked face and long yellow teeth that gave him a vaguely rat-like appearance.
“One moment,” Jebido said, raising a hand to halt the soldier. Jebido gave me a warning glance and I tensed, knowing what was about to happen. I casually let go of my horse’s reins and turned my head, marking the other man’s position in my mind. The Ganderman was tall and lanky and stood three paces back from me by the doors. He’d just finished sliding the huge oak bar into place and he nodded to me and grinned black stumps. I noticed that the bar was supported by a metal plate about six-inches wide and almost an inch thick, and that it slid closed through a set of four iron brackets. I casually rested my right hand on the hilt of Wolf’s Head as I nodded back to the man in a friendly fashion.
“As you probably heard, we’re looking for a sword,” Jebido told the rat-faced soldier. “Sort of like this one.” Jebido drew his sword and showed it to him.
> The Ganderman glanced briefly at the blade Jebido held casually in his hand and then shrugged. “Why should I care?” he asked with a bored look.
“You make a very good point,” Jebido conceded. “Just like this sword here,” he continued, “has a very good point.” Jebido stabbed outward, punching through the man-at-arm’s mail and reaching almost halfway up the blade as its tip burst out his back. The rat-faced man’s eyes bulged and he gasped in surprise and instantly collapsed. I heard the second Ganderman cry out in shock and I slapped my horse’s rump, startling it out of my way as I drew Wolf’s Head from its scabbard and turned on him. The soldier fumbled to draw his sword, cursing as the hilt caught in his surcoat just as I slashed deeply into his neck, silencing him. A cry arose from the floor above us and I thought at first we’d been discovered as an archer came sprinting down the stone staircase that rose in a spiral to the right of the doors.
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