by A. C. Cobble
“And the girl is still inside?” asked Ben. “Who is she?”
The man could only shrug.
Ben started banging on the door again.
“Tell her you know Rhys,” advised Prem.
Ben grunted and then called, “I’m a friend of Rhys, remember?”
Finally, the door opened a crack, and a young woman peered out.
“We’re looking for Damma,” explained Ben.
“I know,” purred the voice. “I can hear you. The entire block can hear you. You’re lucky none of those soldiers have. Damma isn’t here, and you aren’t coming in. You should leave before the soldiers see you.”
“We need to come in,” insisted Ben.
The woman turned her gaze past Ben, and her almond-shaped eyes opened wide. “How many…”
“We’re not staying,” assured Ben. “We just need to pass through.”
“Are you Darla?” guessed Prem.
The woman’s lips twisted and her thin eyebrows raised, barely visible through the small crack in the door.
Ben looked up and down the street, wondering if he should just kick open the door and walk over the woman. She had the door cracked already, and he could see only a thin chain keeping it locked. It would be terribly rude, but he had a hundred men cluttering the street behind him, and they’d be fighting for their lives if one of the groups of marauding soldiers stumbled by.
“You’re pretty,” acknowledged Prem. “Prettier than me, if a man was looking for a woman who spent a lot of time primping herself.”
“I-I, ah, thank you, I think,” stammered Darla.
“We do have a bit of a time crunch,” reminded Ben.
“You are wanting to enter the tunnel?” guessed Darla.
“Yes,” confirmed Ben. “We’re friends of Rhys. Damma let us through the tunnel with him just a few days ago. Please, we need to hurry.”
“She didn’t tell me Rhys was here,” pouted the young girl on the other side of the door. “Is he still in the castle?”
Ben shifted his weight, getting more than a little impatient.
“He is,” said Prem. “Would you like to go with us to see him? Let us in, and we—”
Darla blinked at the former guardian and interjected breathlessly, “Do you think he wants to see me?”
“I don’t know,” hissed Prem in frustration. “I’m trying very hard to be nice. He didn’t let you know he was in Issen, did he? That should tell you something.”
Darla’s full lips turned to a pout. Then, she was flung back as Ben’s boot smashed into the door, snapping the chain and hammering the thick wood into the heavily-made up woman. The force of his kick swung the door wide open. Darla was sprawled on her back half a dozen paces into the room.
“Sorry about that,” muttered Ben as he stepped into the costume shop. “I’m trying to be less violent, most of the time. As I told you, we’re in a bit of a hurry tonight.” He called back to the two guards who had been posted outside the building. “Guide the rest of our men here, if they’re able to make it through the city. Once they start into the tunnel, give the signal, and get to safety!”
On the floor, Darla wiped a stream of blood from her nose, the same shade of crimson as her lips. “I’ll have the city watch on—”
“I’ll tell Rhys you said hello,” offered Prem as she stepped over the prone woman. She caught up with Ben and whispered, “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed watching that.”
Ben grunted and flung open the door to the secret tunnel.
“Will you tell him?” called Darla after them.
“For the life of me, I cannot understand what women see in that man,” complained Ben as he started down the stairs.
“Girls like a bit of a rogue,” said Prem from behind him.
“A bit of a…” muttered Ben under his breath, searching around for a torch before realizing they’d taken a lamp on their last trip through the tunnel.
“Hold on,” said Lloyd, and he slipped by the men in the hall. A moment later, Ben heard the crack of breaking wood, and a torch was passed down the line. The arm of a mannequin, wrapped in expensive feeling linen. It smelled of honeysuckle.
“Perfume,” said Prem. She raked a long knife along the stone wall, sending a shower of sparks cascading over the makeshift torch. It burst into flame, and Ben whispered a silent hope it’d burn long enough for them to make it to the castle.
Walking briskly, he led them deeper into the dark tunnel. In half a bell, the passage would take them underneath the walls of Issen. As soon as the rest of their men exited the tunnel, Issen’s engineers would be cleared to flood it. The men outside Damma’s place had been watching in case Jason’s forces entered before Ben. If that had happened, they would have signaled for the water to be released with Jason’s men inside.
As they walked, Ben shivered, thinking about being caught in the dark, narrow space while water from Issen’s river pumped steadily into it. A horrible way to die, and he hoped it wouldn’t have to happen. When the rest of his men arrived, they would flood it whether or not there was any sign that Jason’s forces intended to sneak through. Lady Selene had used the tunnel, according to Rhys, and they couldn’t risk someone slipping in or out during the heat of battle. It was better to be safe and seal the route with water.
Ben raced up the stairs, climbing flight after flight to reach the top of Issen’s towering walls. Explosions ripped the sky and the sound of skittering arrows bouncing off stone underscored the occasional scream when one found flesh. Men raced along the top of the wall, ducking between crenellations, swerving around idle siege machinery and empty cauldrons that could have been filled with burning hot oil.
It had been centuries since Issen had faced a significant attack, and in that time, a city had grown up around the walls. They’d pulled in as many civilians from the city as they could, but they’d been anticipating the bulk of the armies, and those were still a day away. With a surprise attack through the node gates, the gates of the castle had to be closed before all of the civilians made it to safety. Hundreds of thousands of them were left outside, at the mercy of the Alliance and the Coalition.
The artillery, the heavy stones that could be rolled down the walls, the caltrops which should have been scattered on all of the streets leading to the castle, the hot oil, the burning bales, the tearing down of the nearby structures to make a killing ground, none of it could be done with people in the city below. The council of highborn hadn’t prepared far enough in advance, and now it was too late. The price in collateral damage would be too steep for a full defense, so all they had were the walls of the castle.
Looming five stories above the roofs of the city, the walkway atop the castle walls was relatively safe, if one was careful to duck the whistling missiles that archers sent up from below.
Ben scuttled along, keeping low, Lloyd on his heels, until they found Amelie. She was underneath a roofed turret with an enraged glare on her face. The mages Elle and Earnest John stood beside her, their eyes focused on the city outside of the turret.
“Amelie!” cried Ben as he raced to embrace her.
She allowed him to wrap his arms around her, but none of the tension left her body. She was angry, and a hug wasn’t what she needed. She needed a plan.
“Where’s my father?” asked Prem as she joined them in the turret.
“He’s out keeping the walls clear,” responded Amelie. “Both the Alliance and Coalition have tried to scale them. Knocking them off is about all we can do. It’s too dangerous to unleash anything against the main bodies of our attackers, though I’m tempted.”
Ben strode to the open windows of the turret and looked down. Several dozen buildings had caught fire, and he could see ant-like groups of men streaming through the streets. In some areas, they were closing on the castle. In others, they were looting. A grim smile curled his lips when he spotted streets that were the sites of pitched battles, the Alliance and the Coalition finally crossing swords.
Ben glanced at the rogue and saw the man had already gained a bloody nick on his forehead. His chin was smudged with soot.
“We’re supposed to be keeping them from killing each other,” reminded Ben.
Rhys shrugged.
“I can’t help but feel the same way when I look at this,” admitted Ben. He turned back and studied the city, searching for some inspiration, but he found nothing.
“If this keeps up, the entire place is going to burn down around us,” said Lloyd, taking Ben’s other side. The blademaster pounded his fist against the stone wall of the turret. “The people are huddled in their houses, afraid to come out, and no one’s fighting those fires. It will turn into an inferno if we can’t stop this.”
Ben turned to the mages. “Can you, I don’t know, make it rain?”
Elle shook her head. “Manipulating the weather like that would be exceptionally dangerous. To do it on such short notice, there’s no calculating what the effects would be elsewhere…”
“We’ve been trying to come up with a strategy, Ben,” said Amelie, frustration burning in her voice.
“What do you think?” asked Ben, glancing at Lloyd.
“He might come near to look, but he’s not climbing up here after me,” responded the blademaster. “With a spyglass, he could easily see me without exposing himself. He could be anywhere in the city, Ben. We’d have no way of knowing if he saw me or not, and we definitely wouldn’t get a clean shot on him. When you first said it, I was hopeful, but looking down from here… It’s just not going to work.”
Ben turned to the city again, his anger and desperation growing as he saw fires, rampaging soldiers, and dead bodies.
Six blocks from the castle’s walls, five hundred paces out of bow shot, a large party of Coalition forces was mustering. It wasn’t clear if they were intending an assault on the castle or if they were gathering to face an Alliance company. It was the largest group from either side that Ben could see, and the largest group of Coalition soldiers was the most likely to have Lord Jason at the head.
“Earnest John,” asked Ben, “could you hit a man in that group from here?”
John stomped to the window and peered out, his massive crossbow strapped tightly to his back.
“I could hit several of them if you wanted me to, but I’m not sure it’d do much good. Killing a few here and there is a waste of my talent, and to be honest, I don’t want to do it.”
“What if it was one individual man?” asked Ben. “A specific target.”
John frowned and ran a hand along his black shock of hair, making sure it was still standing straight up. “Aye, I might be able to hit one man. It wouldn’t be a certain shot. This far away, it’d probably be even odds whether I struck him or missed.”
“You could take multiple shots, though,” suggested Ben.
John nodded and patted his quiver. “I have a dozen enchanted bolts, and I could use them all, if someone was stupid enough to stand there and let me fire on them that long.”
“They’ll flood the tunnel at any moment, and opening the gate will be risky,” advised Lloyd.
“Doing nothing is certain to be a disaster,” challenged Ben.
Rhys, his eyes flicking between Ben and Lloyd, guessed, “You’re thinking you can draw out Lord Jason?”
Ben shrugged. “If he knows Lloyd is here, in the city and crossing swords with Coalition men, I think he might show himself. If he does…”
Rhys nodded. “It is risky, but it’s worth a try. I’ll get Adrick and all of his guardians. You’ll want him for this. A couple thousand more men, too, if we can pull them from the walls. When Jason comes, he won’t come alone. I’ll talk to the commander of Issen’s forces and see what they can spare. Most of Venmoor’s rangers are still in the field.”
Ben nodded. “In one bell, we assemble behind the castle gate. Then, we strike.”
“What is this?” asked Amelie, drawing herself up and meeting Ben’s eyes.
“We’re hoping to draw Lord Jason out using Lloyd as bait. Then, Earnest John can put a hole in him. It won’t solve all of our problems, but it would solve one big one.”
“Don’t you think you should run this plan by the leader of Issen?” asked Amelie frostily.
Ben blinked and swallowed. Around them, the clash of battle marched on. “I, ah, Amelie… I didn’t think. You’re right. We should have asked you first. It’s… in the moment…”
Amelie closed her eyes and allowed herself a little shudder. “You’re right. It is a good plan. Well, not good, but a better one than I have. You should do it, Ben, but next time, ask.”
Ben exhaled a relieved breath, tension pouring out of his body. “Of course.”
“And, Ben,” continued Amelie. “After this is over, we need to talk about how we should… We need to talk.”
Ben gulped and felt the tension creeping back in. “After.”
“If you lovebirds are done,” called Rhys from outside the turret where he was waiting, “Ben, I recommend we go down now and start organizing the men as they arrive. We’ll pull an assortment from various companies, and they’ll need to know who to report to outside of the castle.”
Ben gripped Amelie’s hand and shared a quick kiss before turning to go with Rhys.
Prem joined them and quietly said, “We saw Darla.”
Rhys stumbled on an uneven stone in the walkway and kept going, not turning or responding. The former guardian winked at Ben, and he could only shake his head then duck it as a wave of arrows came clattering against the battlement.
“Can’t we shoot back?” he called to some of the men manning the wall in front of them.
“We are, m’lord,” offered a soldier clutching a bow. “They’re able to aim for the top of this wall to hit us, but they could be anywhere down there in the city. It’s not like they’re all standing next to torches and waving so we can see them, and we have to be careful it’s an actual soldier and not a citizen running between cover.”
Ben grunted and continued down the wall, staying low, cursing every time another steel-tipped shaft flew nearby.
Word of their plan was spreading before them, and men started calling out encouragement and offering to join. Ben instructed them to wait for orders from their officers, afraid to strip a critical part of wall of defenders, but it raised his spirit to see so many men eager to strike back and protect Issen.
Men in Issen’s pale blue, farmers from the north, guardsmen from Kirksbane, they were all standing the wall together, unified in their opposition to the Alliance and the Coalition. Ben realized that if they survived the battle, the moment would unify the troops under Amelie.
He said as much to Rhys, and the rogue grinned at him. “You think they’ll be loyal to Amelie?”
“You don’t?” wondered Ben.
“Ben,” reminded the rogue, “you’re Amelie’s general. This is your plan. You’re the one who will lead us out to face Jason. If it’s successful, it will be because of you.”
“Oh,” said Ben, eyeing another group of soldiers who let out a whooping cheer as he rushed past.
They made it to a massive open courtyard and the main gates of Issen’s castle. Manning the gates were scores of soldiers. Ben marched over to give orders on what to do.
“What?” exclaimed the captain of the men. “You want us to open the gates in the midst of a battle?”
“I do,” stated Ben.
“You’ll get us all killed,” cried another man.
Ben looked around the group, seeing a squad of young, inexperienced men. Their uniforms were pristine, like they’d dressed for a parade. All of their weapons were sheathed, and none of them showed any evidence of injury or that they’d even seen the enemy yet. He realized they’d been standing there in the empty courtyard since the attack began. It was still the most action the younger ones had ever seen.
“None of you have been on the wall, have
you?” asked Ben.
“Our orders are to hold this gate, sir,” the captain stated, drawing out sir like it was a splinter lodged in his foot. “We follow our orders, so no, we have not had time to do a lot of sight-seeing up on the walls.”
“Then I guess you don’t know the city is burning out there or that thousands of troops are loose in Issen raping and pillaging.”
The captain blinked back at him.
“It’s not a big concern as long as everyone you know and love is behind these walls,” continued Ben. “Behind the walls, people are safe. All of Lady Amelie’s soldiers, all of my men, they’re here, behind the walls. Everyone outside, though, they’re on their own…”
“My girl’s out there!” shouted a fuzzy-bearded man. “What did you mean by raping?”
“Is your girl pretty?” asked Ben flatly.
“I-I guess you could say that, m’lord.”
Ben stared at the youth then turned and met the gaze of every other man standing behind the gate. “Well, if she’s a good-looking girl and she’s stuck out in the city, then I suppose maybe you do have something to be concerned about.”
Grim faces looked back at him, and men thought about who they knew that had been stranded on the other side of the walls.
“Neither the Coalition nor the Alliance has gained enough control of the city to marshal siege weapons against this gate,” said Ben raising his voice so every man in the courtyard heard him. “If we’re successful, maybe they won’t ever get enough control to do that. Right now, we don’t need a lot of people standing here watching a wooden wall. We need people out in the city, where the fight is taking place. Whoever wants to come with me, whoever wants to help protect the people of Issen, get your gear ready.”
Murmurs broke out amongst the men, and Ben could see them whispering fiercely to each other, pained expressions on their faces.
The captain stepped forward. “My niece is out there, m’lord.”
“Everyone is welcome to join us, except you, captain,” responded Ben, lowering his voice so only the captain heard. “I need someone here to open the gate when we return, and you’re going to be in charge of them. We’ll do what we can out there. You do what you need to in here. If we’re successful, captain, then you don’t need to worry about your niece.”