Yet even after just minutes of this barrage, it w as clear that Castle Lyonesse was doomed unless the enemy artillery was neutralised.
A red-hot piece of stonew ork the size of a man's head spun end over end down tow ards Calard. He shouted a w arning and dived to the side as it arced tow ards him.
It took a peasant w arden standing nearby squarely in the face, taking his head clean off.
There was an almighty crash, and Calard looked up to see the upper half of the tow er, or at least the half w hich had not already been destroyed, collapse and fall, its structural integrity shattered. Once again the earth shook as hundreds of tons of stonew ork smashed to the ground, causing a great cloud of dust to rise.
'By the blood of the Breton,' sw ore Calard, seeing the terrible destruction that had been w rought.
'Not even the cannons of Nuln are so potent,' said Dieter, his face red from the exertion of racing dow n the stairs.
'If this continues, Lyonesse will be a molten ruin in hours,' said Reolus, his eyes blazing w ith rage.
The snap of timbers heralded the re-commencement of the firing of trebuchets. The Norscan longships were drawing close once again. Hundreds of knights and men-at-arms w ere racing towards the battlements of the curtain walls, and Calard was about to join them, to aid in the defence, when Reolus spoke once again.
'The enemy artillery must be silenced,' said the grail knight grimly.
'Laudethaire's knights?' said Calard, and Reolus shook his head.
'The Parravonians are too few .'
'What then?' said Calard, feeling a deep sense of foreboding and helplessness. 'They are out of range of the trebuchets. And it is not like we can sally forth and ride across the ocean.'
'This w as not always an island,' Reolus said thoughtfully 'Back in the times of Gilles le Breton, there w as a spraw ling tow nship below this hill. It w as the greatest city in Bretonnia, the envy of all, before it was drowned by Manann's w rath. The main entrance to the castle ran along a ridge - you can still see w here that ridge is. It forms a causew ay beneath the w ater,' he said.
Now that it w as pointed out, Calard could vaguely recall seeing a cobbled road leading from the eastern gate into the ocean. He had thought nothing of it, but now that it w as draw n to his attention, he could well imagine the sunken land beneath the w aves, picturing the sprawling township in his mind's eye. He could w ell believe that a road had once run along the ridge from the tow ering wooden palisade of the castle that w ould have stood w here Castle Lyonesse now did.
Another fireball roared into the air, and Calard dragged himself away from his musings.
He could not fathom w hat possible relevance the grail knight's random lesson in history had. And unless Reolus w as proposing to sw im across the strait, he saw no possible w ay of nullifying the enemy w ar machine, other than Laudethaire and his kin. He felt the grail knight's impenetrable gaze boring into him, and he shrank beneath it ever so slightly.
Reolus cocked his head to one side, his brow creasing as if hearing a voice that Calard could not. The young lord of Garamont shuffled restlessly, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. Again he glanced tow ards the eastern walls, seeing the archers atop the battlements preparing to loose their arrow s. Calard was impatient to join the defenders. He knew that his brother and his cousins were there, for he had left them there w hen his presence had been requested in the duke's chambers.
Barbarian horns and drums could be heard now , and Calard w as about to abandon the grail knight and run towards the curtain wall w hen Reolus snapped out of his reverie.
'Get your steed saddled,' ordered the grail knight, swinging south tow ards the stables.
'What?' said Calard, his desire to fight alongside his brother urging him to run w estw ard with all haste. 'Why?'
Reolus stopped and rounded on Calard, w ho quailed under his fierce glare. The grail knight seemed to shine with a potent light from within, his eyes blazing with holy fervour and Calard took an involuntary step backw ards. What had possessed him to question the holy paladin?
He dropped to one knee, bow ing his head, unable to hold Reolus's terrible gaze.
'I'm sorry, my lord,' he mumbled. 'It shall be as you command.'
Reolus merely nodded in response, before turning away from Calard and striding tow ards the stables. Calard had to jog to keep pace w ith the paladin.
A section of the eastern wall was struck by a fiery inferno as Calard jogged along behind Reolus, and screams of pain and fear echoed through the night as a fifty foot section exploded inwards, as if it were made of sodden timber, not thirty feet of solid rock. The war machine had struck high, taking off the top tw enty feet of the high w all. A full breach had not been smashed through the immense barrier, but Calard had no doubt that the next shot w ould be recalculated to be more damaging still.
He looked back over his shoulder as he ran, and w hispered a silent prayer to the Lady that Bertelis and his cousins were all right.
Scores of buildings w ere ablaze now , and while teams of peasants were running back and forth from the harbour, hefting barrels of w ater to throw over the raging inferno, Calard could tell that it w as a useless endeavour; those buildings already burning w ere lost. All that could be done w as to try to contain the blaze.
Amid the mayhem, Calard noticed that the grail knight had a scarf w rapped around his upper left arm a token of affection, gifted by a noblew oman. He realised that he recognised the mauve, silk scarf as belonging to his sister.
'Your sister is far more pow erful than you give her credit for,' said Reolus. 'By the Lady's grace, Lyonesse may yet survive the night.'
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANARA STOOD PRECARIOUSLY atop the battlements of the eastern gatehouse, arms lifted to the heavens and her head thrown back as she invoked the power of the Goddess. If she slipped, she would fall more than a hundred feet to her death, but she had no fear. Her black hair w hipped around her w ildly like the serpentine locks of a gorgon as the fierce winds buffeted her. She stood barefoot, unmindful of the ice and snow turning her toes blue, and her wispy, sheer dress fluttered around her like a shroud. Nothing mattered but the rush of pow er surging through her.
The men-at-arms stationed atop the gatehouse eyed her w arily, making warding motions w ith their hands, for even they could feel the gathering energy being channelled through the damsel. Knights kissed tokens of the Lady as they felt the presence of the goddess manifesting within Anara.
Below her, the Norscan longships were just reaching the island, horn-helmed w arriors leaping the gunwales into the shallows in their eagerness to take the w alls.
Thousands of arrow s sliced through the night, cutting down the first wave of Norscans onto the beach, but as before, there w ere more enemies than archers, and countless hundreds of the northern barbarians, bellowing war cries and w aving axes, w ere streaming towards the wall sections damaged by the devastating barrage.
The clouds roiled above as Anara continued to draw the winds of magic into her, and her limbs began to shudder. It threatened to consume her, and she clenched her hands into fists, but her concentration was solid, and a slight smile played at the corner of her lips as she slowly gained mastery over the power she was attempting to control.
Her eyes began to glow as if there was a light burning within her, and as she moved her lips, speaking in the language of the fey, blinding light billowed from her mouth.
Wisps of ethereal fog rose from her skin, and her hair played out around her as if charged w ith static energy. The air crackled with intensity and an electric tang could be tasted upon the air.
Waves crashed furiously against the shore, and Norscan longships rose and fell as the sw ell intensified. Walls of water crashed over the sides of several, and one was smashed against the rocks as it w as turned sideways by a tow ering wave, its hull splintering like matchwood. Men were dragged screaming into the icy waters which churned as frenzied sharks feasted, turning the waters red and the foam pi
nk with blood.
Still Anara continued to call upon the power of the Lady, and a trickle of blood ran from one nostril. Her legs were quivering now, threatening to buckle, but no man stepped forw ard to support her, fearing that to do so w ould break her concentration, dooming them all. A thick fog began to form across the raging strait, hanging low over the w ater and grow ing thicker with every passing moment.
The ocean continued to heave, rising and falling with increasing fury. The Norse strained at the tillers of their longships, desperate to keep their vessels astern of the heaving surf, for if they were turned even slightly when a w ave hit them they would be lost. Few civilisations were as skilful as the Norse at navigating treacherous seas but, even so, more longships w ere being overturned and smashed against the rocks as the surging ocean swell continued to build.
Within minutes, the unnatural fog surrounding the island fortress was so thick as to be utterly impenetrable, sw allowing all sound. The shouts and roars of the Norse became dim and muted, and even the pounding of the waves was now faint. The fog rolled up the beach, obscuring the rocks and the Norse until it caressed the castle w alls. Looking down from the battlements, it looked as though an ethereal ghost sea surrounded the fortress.
Dimly, Anara registered intense heat on her face as a roaring inferno screamed over her head, passing no more than tw enty feet above her. The searing heat that radiated from the fireball made the snow and ice atop the castle gatehouse melt, and steam rose from Anara's clothes. The war machine's fiery missile came dow n inside the castle compound, fifty feet behind the gatehouse. It smashed down through the roof of a w ell-to-do inn, and the whole structure, and the stables and blacksmith attached to it, w as instantly a hellish inferno.
Still the seas rose and the fog thickened, forming an impenetrable, heavy soup, and Anara pulled herself out of her incantation for the briefest of moments.
Now , she pulsed.
* * *
'NOW!' ROARED REOLUS, and the mighty, thirty-foot high doors of the gatehouse groaned open. The w all of fog beyond the gate rolled through the portal as it opened, creeping across the cobblestones like a living, amorphous beast. It coiled around the legs of the grail knight's destrier, making the paladin and his steed appear like some vengeful, holy manifestation; a supernatural avatar of the Lady's w rath. Calard shuddered, seeing again the Green Knight closing in on him, sword drawn, but he shook the disturbing vision off.
Anara's voice ghosted dow n from the top of the gatehouse overhead, musical and otherw orldly. His flesh tingled and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the air filled with expectant energy, and Calard lifted a devotional pendant carved in the likeness of the Lady to his lips, invoking her protection.
Calard could feel the blessing of the Lady upon Reolus, radiating from him like the heat from a forge. A vaguely shining aura surrounded the holy knight, a luminous glow that seemed emphasised by the fog billowing around him.
In one hand the grail knight held aloft his silver lance, Arandyal, its length shining w ith holy light; in his other hand he held its twin, the sacred sword Durendyal. Both holy w eapons were of immense cultural significance, and even the lowliest inbred peasant had heard the tales of the terrible foes Reolus had vanquished with them.
The paladin's face was hidden behind the visor of his tall helm, topped w ith a gleaming heraldic unicorn of silver surrounded by a crow n of lit candles, but his eyes blazed w ith the Lady's favour. His intricately-worked, ornate armour reflected the light of those candles and the roaring flames of the buildings burning within the castle w alls. The silver edging of his regal blue tabard glow ed.
Reolus's unicorn heraldry was emblazoned proudly upon his chest, the design mirrored on the flanks of his steed's matching caparison. That destrier was large, pow erful and as black as pitch, and it bore the w eight of Reolus and the heavy chain and plate barding beneath its flow ing caparison effortlessly.
The thick, reinforced gates groaned fully open, and Reolus gestured forward with his blessed lance.
'To victory!' he roared, his voice infused with the power of the divine, filling the fifty knights gathered behind Reolus with fiery passion.
'To victory!' they echoed, and Calard's chest swelled with pride to be part of such an august company, to be riding behind such a holy knight.
As one they kicked their steeds forward, galloping out through the gates and into the fog beyond.
Calard could not see more than ten feet in front of him, but he felt no sense of fear or doubt as they thundered out of the castle, galloping directly towards the sea across the sand-sw ept cobbles on the ancient roadway. The Lady w as with them, and they w ere led by one of her greatest champions - nothing in the world could stand against them.
They came upon the Norscans suddenly, and judging by the expressions on the barbarians' surprised faces, they must have appeared like ghostly apparitions, galloping out of the fog and led by a faintly glowing demigod of w ar, his helmet ringed w ith candles. Still, the Norscans were a w arlike people not given to fear, and they responded w ith admirable courage, dropping ladders and leaping forward with axes raised, w ar cries on their lips. Yet for all their bravery they w ere smashed aside by the tight w edge of knights, crushed and broken beneath the hooves of the mighty destriers.
The causew ay dipped as its angle increased and they ploughed through the fog tow ards the sea. Reolus did not slow his charge, and none of the knights riding behind him faltered. A voice in Calard's mind was urging him to pull his steed up, telling him it w as utter foolishness to continue this mad ride through the fog and into the sea, but he grinned fiercely, rejoicing in the feeling of freedom that riding a w arhorse at full gallop allowed.
A dragon-prow ed longship appeared out the mist, driving a furrow through the sand off to the right of the causew ay as it slammed into the beach. Calard saw Norscans leaping over the gunwales gaping in astonishment at the formation of knights riding at full gallop along the causeway tow ards the ocean, but then they w ere past them and Calard turned his attention back to the fore.
Impossibly, he heard Anara's voice in the fog all around him. Other voices joined hers, and Calard felt an aching pang in his heart at the beauty of the half-heard song.
The knights galloped down the causeway. It extended out into the strait further than the beach itself, and Calard could see the waves lashing the shore off to either side.
The stones were slick with sea water beneath the hooves of the warhorses, and seaw eed w as clumped in stinking piles. Crabs as large as a man's head skittered sidew ard off the causeway, waving their oversized claws, their armoured shells covered in spikes.
Suddenly the ocean could be seen before them, dark and threatening. Black fins cut through the w ater no more than fifteen feet out, and yet on the knights galloped, guiding their steeds straight tow ards the sea. There was a great sucking sound from up ahead, and Calard saw the icy w aters of the ocean surge aw ay from the tip of the knightly formation, as if being drawn back to form an immense w ave.
They rode forward for another dozen yards or so, and still the waters retreated before them. The causeway continued to descend at a steady angle, and he saw fish and eels flopping uselessly upon the ground, gasping for breath. He glanced to the side and saw the ruined corner of an ancient building protruding from the rock bed, the crumbling stone w alls covered in weed and barnacles.
They w ere underneath the heavy fog that blanketed the sea then, and the path before them w as suddenly clear. Calard took a sharp intake of breath as he saw the w alls of w ater to either side of them as they continued to plough down the causew ay, galloping deeper even as the waters continued to draw back aw ay from them.
They drove a w edge through the ocean waters, which parted before them like enemy soldiers before the charge. The ruins of more buildings could be seen off to either side of w hat Calard realised must once have been a thriving thoroughfare. He gaped in astonishment at the sheer walls of water to either side of the
lance of knights; it looked like they would come crashing down on top of them at any moment. There w as nothing physical holding them back, but hold they did, and the knights galloped on, still riding downhill, moving ever onwards.
Finally the causeway levelled out and they w ere galloping along the flat. The sheer w alls of w ater on either side were over thirty feet high here, tow ering cliffs that loomed over them threateningly. The sea spray w ashing over their edge was blinding, and Calard looked up, open-mouthed. The fog blanketing the ocean w as falling over the edge tow ards them like a gaseous w aterfall. So strange was the experience of looking up at the ocean from its floor, w ith the fog cascading over the w alls of w ater, that Calard w ondered if he might be dreaming.
All manner of hateful ocean-dwelling creature w as stranded upon the ground around them, flopping back and forth impotently. He saw all sorts of fish, many of which had gaping mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth. He saw a shark easily three times the size of his horse, and it thrashed back and forth furiously. It was no natural beast, that, and he recognised the touch of Chaos upon it - dozens of grabbing tentacles surrounded its tooth-filled maw, and clusters of hate-filled eyes glared at him from the side of its broad head.
The bodies of Norscans were there too, the corpses of those that had been dragged to the ocean floor by the w eight of their iron armour. Many of them w ere missing limbs and great chunks of flesh, clearly having been partially devoured by the sharks and w hatever other flesh-eating creatures dwelt in the depths. Crabs sw armed over these bodies, obscuring them in a cluttering blanket of chitin, tearing strips off their flesh w ith barbed claw s.
Calard heard shouting overhead and glanced up to see the prow of a Norse longship balancing precariously on the edge of the oceanic cliffs. The raiders were frantically row ing backw ards, trying to pull themselves back from the brink, but the ocean sw ell buffeted them, pushing them further over the edge. He urged his steed on, casting a nervous glance back up tow ards the teetering longship.
Warhammer - Knight of the Realm Page 22