by Pedro Urvi
The enemy archers ran off into the distance and disappeared. The officers were shouting to their men to organize themselves and clear the pit at either end. But it was not easy, since with the two fires, the one in the pit and the other in the forest which was gaining on them, the soldiers were paying no heed either to reason or to the shouts of their superiors. Those who were about to fall into the pit were desperately pushing their comrades back toward the trees, but at the same time those at the edge of the forest wanted to escape the fire behind them. It was a desperate moment, until the soldiers who were between the forest and the pit realized what was going on and began to push not only back, but towards the sides. Gradually sanity returned.
The last ones to come out of the forest with the fire at their heels were the nobles and the King himself. They had come very close to perishing in there, since they had been trapped in the forest by the great human blockage that had formed. The armies re-grouped on the other side of the burning trench. The officers managed to impose order, and for the moment the situation seemed controlled. The men began to get their breath back, but they were exhausted and affected in spirit. It was one thing to face the soldiers of the West, a very different one to face deadly traps.
The officers called the rolls. The casualties had been numerous, and horrible. King Thoran was beside himself. He shouted at his generals, his nobles and anyone who happened to be in front of him. Gatik got the worst of it, because the King accused him of incompetence. He blamed him for the fact that the Rangers had not spotted the traps in the river and the forest, and most of all, had not spotted the flaming pit. Gatik defended himself, claiming that the Rangers had been alert at all times, but that the traps had been planned and executed with masterly skill specifically to elude the vigilance of the Rangers. The King went on to accuse him of having traitors among his people who were working for the West, and there was nothing Gatik could say against this.
Ingrid, Nilsa, Gerd and Lasgol knew perfectly well who had planned those masterly traps, which had killed a third of the King’s army. Neither they nor any other Ranger had found them in time. In fact, there were a dozen Rangers in the rearguard and another dozen in the vanguard who had not yet come back. The ones at the rear must have found the fire, and the ones at the front the pit, but they had not lived to tell the tale. Leenbiren knew they were dead, and he had told Lasgol and his friends so. Unfortunately, they thought, he was right. A Ranger always comes back to report, and those other Rangers had not done so.
Lasgol felt sad about their deaths. Not only because they were comrades, but because of who was responsible for their death: Egil. They had not died at his hand, but he had known that there would be Rangers keeping watch. He had made sure that they would not see the traps, and that if they did, they would not live to tell anyone about them. War was like that, and Lasgol knew it. They were all aware of the fact, but living with it so close at hand was a very different thing. He took comfort thinking that perhaps the soldiers of the West had taken them prisoners and that perhaps they were not dead. On the other hand, it was only a remote possibility. The Rangers would have fought back, and there would have been bloodshed.
To avoid even stronger criticism from the King and to protect his own neck, Gatik sent the Rangers ahead to secure the route to the walled city of Estocos. The King of the West was there with his forces, waiting to be besieged. Neither Thoran nor his generals were expecting Arnold and the Western League to come out to fight in the open, least of all now that their traps had worked and caused great casualties without any on their own side. Lasgol and his group were to keep up patrols around the army, which was waiting for the Rangers to come back once they had searched the entire route to the capital of the West.
Around the Eastern war camp everything was quiet and the Rangers were on watch. Luckily nothing happened, and a few days later the advance-guard of Rangers came back to report that the road to Estocos was free of danger. King Thoran had no desire to wait a single moment longer and made his armies set out in the middle of the night. He wanted to get to the city, take it and then put an end to Arnold and his forces at all costs, without wasting a single moment. He wanted the city burning, and its inhabitants in flames along with it.
Thoran’s armies marched for a week, during which there were no more ambushes. At nightfall on the seventh day, they arrived at Estocos, the stronghold of the King of the West. The great city was waiting in readiness for the arrival of the enemy.
From the hill a thousand paces away, Lasgol and his friends could see the thousands of lights which illuminated it. In towers and on battlements, soldiers of the West awaited them with bows, axes and spears. There was no sign of the Western armies, which (so everybody assumed) must be well-protected inside the city, waiting for the siege to begin. Even with the casualties they had suffered, the armies of the East were superior in both numbers and training to those of the West, who were the warriors and militia of the Olafstone and the other noblemen who made up the alliance of the Western League. They had no professional army like Thoran’s, which did not mean they were not going to fight with all their might against it.
King Thoran ordered his armies to take up their positions and set up camp, after which the siege would begin at dawn. The Thunder and Snow Armies, with their generals at their head, established themselves eight hundred paces from the walls. Behind them came the mercenaries, and beside them the nobles and their militias. Finally, in the rear, Thoran took up his position with his Invincibles of the Ice and his Royal Guard and Rangers. They were received with loud calls from horns and drums. Those inside the city did not appear to be intimidated by the Eastern armies, at least to judge by the din they were making. Once again it was the turn of the Rangers to set up a circle around the armies, to be alert to any possible trick.
Lasgol and his friends were sent to keep watch on the area around the city’s north gate. They kept a thousand paces away and searched the nearby forests just in case; they had already had enough scares and upsets. Quite possibly Egil still had another surprise up his sleeve. He was not going to let Thoran take his city, the castle of the Olafstones, of his family, of his father, without putting up a firm resistance to the bitter end. Lasgol thought about how hard it must be for his friend to see his plans and strategies unfolding while he himself was so far away at the Camp. On the one hand it gave him an alibi, as they would not be able to accuse him of helping his brother. It also left Dolbarar free of guilt and the risk of being hanged along with him. On the other hand, Egil would be suffering because he was unable to see at first hand what was going on, so that he could create new plans to help his brother in the critical moments of the campaign. Lasgol was glad of this. If not, Egil might be captured and hanged, or end up dead in some other way for siding with the West. He would not forgive himself if anything bad should happen to his friend, and he hoped with all his being that Egil would not do anything crazy.
“It’s going to be ugly and bloody, this siege,” Leenbiren commented.
“You don’t have to cheer us up so much,” Ingrid snapped back with some annoyance.
“I’m telling you so that you start to get used to the idea. I’m the veteran, it’s my duty.”
“Why don’t they give up?” Nilsa said. She was watching the city wall in the light of the torches that illuminated it. They could see soldiers on watch duty making their rounds along the towers and battlements. “There are fewer of them, and they’re less well-prepared than the King’s armies. They’ve got no chance of winning.”
“This is their land, their home, they won’t yield,” Lasgol said. He realized that he had spoken with too much feeling, with the words coming straight from the heart. He too was a man of the West. This was his own land.
Leenbiren frowned. “It’s Norghanian land. It belongs to the King.”
Lasgol realized his mistake and corrected it. “That’s the way they feel it.”
“Well then, they ought to give up and get out of the city before Thoran devas
tates it.”
“I wouldn’t sell the bear-skin before you’ve killed the bear,” Ingrid said. “They’ve already killed a third of our people, and now they have the advantage of a fortified position behind walls. It’s not going to be at all easy.”
“Tomorrow the King’ll give the order to lay siege to the city and build siege machines. That walled position’s going to fall.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“You will,” the veteran assured her. “I’m going to see what the other patrols are reporting. I’ll be back soon.”
The four friends sat down under a group of trees and had something to eat. Ona curled up beside Lasgol, and Camu became visible. He sat down beside Gerd, who petted him.
“D’you think Egil will have prepared another surprise?” Gerd asked. He was scratching Camu’s tummy as he lay on the ground with his legs in the air and his blue tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth, obviously in seventh heaven.
“You can bet your weight in gold he has,” came a voice from the shadows of the forest behind them, and they all reached for their weapons like lightning.
“You insist on aiming at me every time I appear. Could you please lower your bows?”
“Who are you?” Ingrid asked, in a voice that threatened death.
“Who else but your beloved knucklehead.”
Chapter 39
“Viggo!” Gerd cried in delighted.
Ingrid was shaking her head in total despair. “I can’t believe it’s you!”
Viggo came out into the open and lowered the scarf that covered his face. He was dressed completely in black, streaked with green-brown, so that he blended seamlessly into the dark mass of the night forest behind him.
He spread his arms wide. “The best and greatest Assassin Ranger Norghana has ever had.”
“The vainest, that’s for sure,” Ingrid retorted.
“I’m so glad to see you!” Nilsa said. She threw herself into his arms with such force that they both nearly fell over.
“You’re as clumsy as ever,” he protested.
“And you’re as much of a moaner!”
Viggo hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek.
Nilsa blushed. “Bolder and bolder,” she said with a giggle.
He smiled roguishly at her. “Couldn’t be any other way.”
“Don’t you dare come near me,” Ingrid said, and held her finger up at him menacingly.
“Come on, Blondie, you know you’re dying to give me a hug and a kiss.”
“What I want is for this just to be a nightmare. I’m going to wake up straight away and you won’t be here.”
Gerd went to hug Viggo. “Don’t be like that,” he said to Ingrid.
Lasgol came forward to hug him as well. “I’m very happy to see you, pal.”
“And me to see you.”
Camu leapt on to him. Viggo fell over, and both Camu and Ona proceeded to lick his face amid his pretend-protests. When he finally got up he wiped his face with his cloak and turned to Ingrid.
“You’re more dazzling than I remembered.”
“Nonsense. It’s dark and we can barely see each other. How am I supposed to be radiant?”
“Because that’s how my heart sees you.”
She glared at him threateningly. “You’re going to get my fist in your face.”
Viggo gave her a huge smile in return. “Come on, give me a hug. Even if there’s no kiss to go with it.”
“Don’t you dare try anything…”
“Of course not. Who do you think I am?”
Viggo went up to her and put his arms around her, gently at first and then more tightly. Ingrid was not at all convinced, and it showed on her face. For a moment they kept up the embrace. Ingrid relaxed, and Viggo hugged her more tightly, pressing her body against his.
“You’re going to get what for…”
“It’ll be worth it,” he whispered in her ear.
Against all expectations, Ingrid did not slap him. They drew apart, but stayed looking into each other’s eyes. There was a moment of silence. The others watched, without saying a word. In the end Ingrid realized that they were staring at them and broke the spell.
“Well now, knucklehead, what are you doing here’”
Viggo smiled from ear to ear. “I’ve come to your rescue.”
“I don’t need anybody to rescue me, least of all a half-man like you!”
“Aah,” Viggo murmured in delight. “As spirited as always. I love it. It goes straight to my heart.”
“I swear I’m going to hit you.”
“There’s no need,” Lasgol put in. “He’s not here because of you.”
Ingrid looked at him, then back at Viggo. “So why, then?”
“The weirdo’s right,” Viggo smiled. “I can’t reveal why I’m here. I’m an assassin, and if I did I’d have to kill the lot of you, and all that sort of thing…”
Ingrid rolled her eyes.
“Come on! Tell us! What mission are you on?” Nilsa asked excitedly.
Viggo looked mysterious, then shook his finger. “It’s for your own good. It’s better if you don’t know anything.”
“Either you tell me why you’re here or I’ll clobber you!” Ingrid said threateningly.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be at the receiving end of your caresses, but I don’t think this is the ideal moment, Blondie. You know, because of the war, the deaths and all that. Our moment will come.” He gave her a roguish smiled and winked.
Ingrid was about to explode, but before she could, Viggo had turned and vanished into the darkness of the forest.
“Where’s he gone?” she cried furiously.
“I think you scared him,” Nilsa said, trying to muffle a giggle.
“I’m going to rip him to shreds when I catch him!”
Gerd was looking towards where Viggo had disappeared. “I have the feeling that it’s going to be harder and harder to catch him.”
Lasgol had to agree. “You have a point,” he said thoughtfully. If Viggo was there, it meant bad news for someone: very bad news, news of death. Considering that he was under orders from Duke Orten, it meant he was here to eliminate the competition. Or else some powerful western noble, or perhaps Arnold himself. No, not Arnold: he was in the Olafstone castle in the midst of the walled city, surrounded by the whole Western League, which was loyal to him. Viggo could never get to him. It was crazy. Then he thought about the attack on the Zangrian general and realized that it too had been crazy, and yet Viggo had accomplished it. Now he was really worried, not about Arnold but about Viggo, because who could say what crazy act he was going to carry out?
Leenbiren had not been mistaken about the siege machines. Thoran ordered the building of catapults, battering rams and ladders for the taking of the city. It would take the soldiers several days to make them, so the King ordered the siege to begin. Estocos was a big city, but it only had two walled gates: one to the north and one to the south, presumably because if it were besieged, this would make it easier to defend. However, whoever had designed and built it had not been expecting it to be besieged by Norghanians. Or perhaps they had, since rivalry between East and West went far back in time, and Norghana had not always been a unified kingdom. In ancient times it had been divided into regions ruled by warlords.
The armies had not separated, but remained as one at a prudent distance of fifteen hundred paces. They put up tents and camps while they waited for the order to attack. The forces inside Estocos made no sign of abandoning the protection of the walls to fight in the open. Thoran had already expected this to be Arnold’s strategy, so he urged his men to get a move on with the machines. It seemed that he did not want to keep the city besieged for a long time so that the inhabitants died slowly from hunger and thirst, which was one of the normal tactics when besieging a walled city which would be difficult to take, like this one. He was not looking for a slow victory based on attrition, which would be safer for his own troops. No, he wanted to tak
e the city as soon as possible, at whatever price.
So they started to fell trees and bring rocks to use as missiles from a nearby quarry. They did not have enough carts, most of them having been lost in the forest fire, so they had to build new ones. And not only had they lost the carts, but also the supplies and materials they needed. Thoran was not happy about this, not in the least. It took them three weeks of hard work to build the catapults and rams. The catapults were not huge, but they would be mobile enough to be pushed to within five hundred paces and assault both walls and city. They managed to build two dozen, and although they were not as powerful as the huge traditional catapults, they were expected to have a similar effect when their missiles were released simultaneously. The six battering rams they had built, on the other hand, were huge, and looked capable of withstanding the defensive efforts of an entire army. They would be used to demolish the two city gates, which were strongly reinforced and manned.
During this time the Rangers had been keeping watch around the city. Gatik wanted no more surprises. Lasgol and his friends were in the forest and nearby fields day and night, checking that nobody came in or out. Several groups of Rangers gave them support and made sure that they took turns and varied their positions, so that they were never at the same spot in case the enemy was watching them in turn. Lasgol felt that they were playing cat-and-mouse with an imaginary enemy, since nobody went into the city or came out of it. Gatik meanwhile sent Rangers to the south to secure a supply route from the East in case the siege had to be extended, as well as to the north, to make sure no reinforcements or supplies reached the enemy. Nilsa was still annoyed because she was not the one who was given the First Ranger’s orders to deliver. She had no idea why Gatik did not like her.
Ingrid made light of it. When she herself became First Ranger, she assured Nilsa, she would appoint her as her messenger and personal liaison. Nilsa could not have been happier. For some reason Lasgol was able to envisage both of these things, and was delighted. The thought cheered him up in the midst of all the uncertainty which the waiting had created in everyone.