I now turned to face Gann alone. The look on his face was priceless. His plan was to sacrifice his friends in order to take out Meena and tire me out. Now it was just him against me and I was a might bigger than he was expecting. He began shouting in his language to those around us. Doubtless he was calling for assistance. But, as I had seen before, these were not honorable beings. They now also focused some of their anger on Gann for putting them in this situation. They had expected a morale-boosting victory but were now on their way to a humiliating defeat. He would receive no help from this crowd. In fact he was subjected to more than a few jeers.
Realizing his predicament, Gann lowered the visor on his helmet and charged, shield held stiffly out in front. He was strong and large for his kind. I was larger and stronger. And quicker. I parried a half-hearted swing of his axe and took the push of his shield on my shoulder. Our weight was anything but equal. He had been raised on a world of lighter gravity and, though larger than the normal Grey, came only up to my collarbone in height. I massed close to twice what he did. When his shield hit me he literally bounced backward. I jumped forward after him swinging my sword. I got through his defenses and landed a strike to the ribs but his armor was tough. The blade dented but did not penetrate.
I shuffled backward to gain enough time and distance to sheath my sword in its scabbard on my back. Now I drew my spiked mace. In the few weeks I had been on this new world this was the weapon that had been most useful to me. It felt comfortable and right in my hand. The weight of the studded head was reassuring. I might not be able to penetrate the armor with a sword strike but with this I could damned well beat the hell out the monster that wore it.
The mace was long enough that it could be wielded by one hand or two. I studied my opponent as he recovered himself from my attack. He did not appear to be eager to attack me. In fact I saw him take a few glances behind himself as if searching for an avenue of retreat. I looked at the crowd again. A few more were inching forward. They may have no affection for Gann but, when he fell, I was going to be fair game. I looked for the lone rope hanging from the wall and was surprised to see I had moved so far away from it during the struggle.
I took the club in both hands, trusting my forearm guards to protect me from any lucky blows from the big Grey. Shuffling in quickly I started swinging at him, careful to just miss him. Every time I swung he moved farther away from me and closer to the hanging rope. I hopped in and out, keeping him off balance and still backing up. I pretended to stumble once but he would not charge me. When he was ten feet from the rope I considered knocking him down and running for the rope, getting out of the crowd while the option was still available. But the point of this exercise was two-fold. One was to further erode the enemy’s morale. The other was to convince them that Olvioni fighters, even our women, were to be feared. I could not do that by running away. There was actually a third reason for the effort; the ambush by our archers, but that was totally out of my hands right now.
Gann finally mustered up the courage to mount a half-assed attack. He hunkered down behind his shield and swung shallow arcs with his battle axe. I let one pass then slammed my mace into his shield, knocking him backward. Before he could recover I delivered another, stronger than the first. But I had inadvertently pushed him away from the location of my lifeline. He stumbled backward until he smashed into the wall. It was the only thing keeping him from falling. I put myself on his opposite side and resumed forcing him back in the direction I wanted him to go.
By now I was getting tired of having his shield in my face. I shifted the club into my right hand and waited for him to lead with it again. When he did I grabbed the top of it with my left hand and jerked back on it. He had to either go to the ground or release it. He dropped it. I heard more cheers from above but for some reason they annoyed me. This was no sporting event, my life was on the line.
Deprived now of his chief means of defense Gann began to realize that he must actually mount an offense if he was to have any chance at victory. I could see it in his eyes. It is said that even a small dog becomes vicious if it is backed into a corner and given no options. Gann had a look in his eyes that indicated he understood that he was now in that position.
With a hoarse growl he launched himself at me. He now had his battle axe in one hand and a war hammer in the other. Having only one weapon put me at a disadvantage. I had to protect myself with my mace from two different weapons which left no time to mount my own attack. Gann seemed to take courage that he was driving me backwards. He redoubled his efforts, eyes wild and the scent of victory in his nostrils.
Actually I was letting him drive me back because that was the direction in which hung the rope, my only hope of surviving this mess. I could hear the rope just behind me, slapping against the wall in the slight wind. I risked a quick glance at the crowd.
When I thought I was close enough I raised my club over my head with both hands. Gann must have thought it was an act of surrender because he grinned grimly and stepped in for the kill. When he was three feet away I threw my club with all the strength I could put in my shoulders. The heavy weapon caught him directly in the face, propelling the macabre helmet off and over the heads of the crowd. His body fell backwards and I jumped forward, drew my sword from its scabbard on my back and separated Gann’s head from his shoulders. Shocked silence surrounded us.
Before the crowd could digest what had happened I snatched up my mace, stuffing it quickly into my belt and dashed for the rope. I grabbed it with one hand, still clutching my sword with the other and prayed that whoever was watching above was ready. They were. I fairly flew into the air, barely able to keep my grip on the line and thanking God for the light gravity which allowed me to hang on.
Something hit my back but I couldn’t see what it was. Then a hatchet-type of weapon struck the wall in front of me. The crowd had caught on to the fact that I was escaping and were rushing up to take me down with anything they could find to throw. A spear barely missed my nose, digging into the stone wall and hanging there for an instant before dropping. I almost made it to the top unscathed but a rock the size of a baking potato bounced off of my forehead. It made me see stars but I was able to hang on. My feet were still scrambling in the air, trying to snag one of the loops that were there for them.
Then there was a shout from above and hundreds of “twangs” as our archers rose up from behind the walls and released their arrows at the Greys below. The crowd that had been fearlessly surging ahead and trying to kill me was now transformed into a frightened mob, trampling others of their group in the rush to escape the death raining down on them from above. They also stopped trying to knock me off of my rope.
I hung motionless halfway up the wall watching the carnage below. Of the hundreds who had come over the bridges to watch the combat only a few dozen made it back across unscathed. Many limped across with arrows stuck in their backs, chests, arms and legs. A few were playing possum among their fallen comrades but the archers on the wall spared no arrows to make sure they got them all.
Then it was over. My feet found a loop in which to get purchase and I started rising again, this time with more care and less urgency. I gradually became aware of the cheers and shouts of triumph that I had not noticed while trying to avoid being picked off from below. Then I was at the top and a dozen pairs of arms competed for the honor of pulling me over. I was hoisted up on the shoulders of the warriors on the wall and carried back and forth along the ramparts.
I understood the need to let the troops rejoice in our triumph but my forehead was throbbing and I wanted nothing more than to put my arms around Dwan and go back to the coolness and privacy of our little room.
Eventually Zander and Ruguer pushed through the crowd and gently persuaded them to put me down. They did but they continued to cheer and celebrate. Zander had his arm around Dwan and she rushed up into my arms. Her healer’s eyes immediately started examining my bruised face. The fact that she didn’t order me to the triage clinic told me
that it was not serious.
Zander stepped forward and shouted congratulations over the din. He also thanked me and said I would have to attend a special congratulatory meeting of parliament tonight if I was up to it. I told him I was but insisted that Meena attend. He answered that she had already been invited because she was one of the honorees. Tinker leapt gracefully from Dwan to me then all three of us made our way slowly through the crowd, acknowledging the well-wishers and congratulators. Ruguer had called it correctly. This was a real shot in the arm to our citizens.
I realized what I had just been thinking. Our citizens! I now considered myself a citizen of Olvion.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Late
Karr dashed from the tent and ran toward the bridges. He was furious. Whoever had pulled such a stunt as this would be flayed alive in front of the entire horde. His panicked officers ran alongside him as he shouted orders, telling them to get everyone back from the walls, back over on the far side of the bridges. He had seen what devastation could be wrought by archers. The ability to kill over a distance was an advantage that Greys had been trying to master for a long time. Somehow the manufacture and skill of using bows and arrows had largely eluded them. They did not possess the fine motor skills of the humans that was required when fashioning arrows that flew true and straight. They had no clue as to how to prepare, braid and use the tendons of slaughtered animals as bowstrings. Because the humans had been reluctant to use the weapons in most of their earlier skirmishes, there had been very few of the devices captured.
As he rushed toward the bridges Karr knew that these humans had hundreds, maybe thousands of them on their walls. And seemingly limitless numbers of deadly arrows that could pierce armor and shields. He wondered again what fool had been stupid enough to risk getting so close to the walls. His fighters scattered before his approach to the nearest bridge. Maybe he would be in time. Then he saw a strange thing and stopped dead in his tracks. A human, an enormous human, was being drawn up into the air on a rope. Some of his fighters were trying to reach him with thrown weapons and rocks to knock him from the rope.
Karr started running again and he and his officers were now on the bridge screaming at the others, telling them to get back away from the walls, back across the bridges. Heads were beginning to turn. Curious faces stared back.
Then it happened. Hundreds of arrows arced gracefully up into the air, reached their zenith, and then fell back toward the ground and into the Greys standing by the wall. Heads popped up along the wall, hundreds of humans bearing strung bows and launching death down upon his raiders. The sheer number of arrows was staggering. The first volley was the deadliest, having the advantage of surprise. The sleek missiles dropped down, piercing through skulls, necks and shoulders. The following volleys were more precisely aimed. These struck mainly in the backs of his retreating subjects. Very few made it back over the bridges. Pitifully few. On the other side of the trough lay hundreds of corpses and others making the motions of the dying. It had happened in front of him in the space of an eye-blink.
Karr roared in fury. He yanked a sword from the hands of one of his favored officers and rushed onto the bridge. As his lieutenants watched in horror he began to savagely hack and strike at the refugees of the arrow attack as they fled across. He killed more than a dozen of his own surviving followers before regaining his senses. He looked around and noted the expressions on the faces of his subjects. On those of his officers. Snarling he knocked a limping and wounded fighter off of the bridge and into the deep trough. Then he strode past his subjects heading back to his tent, daring anyone to comment as he passed.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Celebrated
Later that evening after Dwan and I had returned to our quarters and she had fussed enough with my bruised forehead she asked if I had any other wounds. I told her I wasn’t certain but that it was very possible I had an injury under my clothes. She gave me a wary look but could not entirely discount the possibility that I was telling the truth. Once I had disrobed and she started to examine me I trapped her in my arms and opined that a thorough inspection required the full participation of both parties. I was medically cleared for duty in a few hours.
When one of the young messenger lads knocked on our door we were both bathed and dressed. Dwan had on a wispy red skirt with black leggings underneath. Her chest and shoulders were covered by a snug-fitting black blouse that did not quite hide all the features of her beautiful form. The lad ignored me and kept his eyes on her as he delivered the formal greetings from the king and the invitation to the special meeting of parliament. We followed him all the way to the open court, laughing every time he would almost trip and fall while trying to sneak another look at her. A good measure of just how fetching she looked was the fact that the lad barely even glanced at Tinker, who was perched on my shoulder. Tinker was the center of attention in most situations. We were heading to the function that had been hastily arranged to honor our success outside of the walls that morning. Frankly I was surprised that we were having so many celebrations in the middle of a siege. Dwan opined that the king had probably decided that it was important to keep parliament members optimistic about our ability to win this war.
We were stopped at the huge twin wooden doors that lead to the open court. Meena was there looking like anyone but herself. She was in a clingy one-piece green wrap that ended above her knees. Dwan elbowed me when I took a tad too long admiring the effect but then smiled. She and Dwan hugged then began engaging in whispered girl talk. Pulg was there. He explained that Meena had been allowed an escort and had graciously invited him. I grinned at him and he scowled back. We agreed that the women made us seem a little insignificant in our military uniforms. I asked him why Meena had not worn her uniform and was told she had been given the option but decided upon the dress. No one could argue with the result. It was almost unimaginable to me that a woman that was so deadly with a weapon could look so comely.
Then the doors opened and an older warrior at the front of the room announced us, first Meena and Pulg, then myself and Dwan. We entered the facility to thunderous applause with every Member of Parliament on his or her feet. It was, in a word, overwhelming.
We were led down to a large table at which sat King Zander, Ruguer, Brackus and, to my great surprise, Vynn and Mag-Gan. I accepted the hand of each of them, thanking them and acknowledging their congratulations. I hugged Vynn, genuinely glad to see him again, as did Dwan. We three had shared a lot together and felt a special bond. After being seated I noticed that there were several women at the table with us. This was looking more and more like a formal Earth-style dinner party and that is pretty much what it turned out to be.
We sat through three speeches. Zander and Ruguer were brief and very complimentary. Brackus’ stretched on way too long as he struggled to make himself a party to what had occurred today. He finally sat down after the coughs and yawns began to grow. Meena was asked to stand and received a huge round of applause, especially from the females attending the event.
When my turn came I stood and accepted the honors gratefully, feeling none of the shyness I would once have felt at being the center of attention. Then the speeches died down and we all turned our attentions to the sumptuous meals that were being served around the room. I downed several helpings of some type of meat that resembled ham. There were also sugared fruits, stewed vegetables and my favorite: yams. On earth I hated yams or sweet potatoes as my father called them. I detested the taste. The side dish we were being served tonight looked like a normal yam but it had a less sweet taste and was much like a normal potato. Slathered with sweet cream it was a feast in itself.
I conversed with everyone present up and down the table. Zander was a gracious host who knew exactly how to make everyone feel included. Even Meena, who until a few weeks ago had spent her life as a metalsmith in a small outlying farming village, looked comfortable. She was seated beside Ruguer and the two exchanged many whispered comments to and from e
ach other while Pulg glowered beside her.
I sampled the spirits that were offered. Some were like the crude liquid that Vynn had introduced me to in our first days together. But there was one that was made from fermented honey that I thought was delicious. They called it “sween” but I thought of it as mead because it fit my image of myself as an old-world Viking. Vikings drank mead. At least I thought they did.
The night played itself out. I caught the eye of my new friend Geord at a table near the back of the room and we exchanged smiles and waves. Several members of parliament came to our table to express their gratitude to Meena and myself. It was obvious that Meena was now a bright star in the kingdom. It was a really nice time but eventually the excitement and struggles of the day caught up with us. Meena actually dozed off at the table and Zander shushed everyone around her saying she’d earned her nap. My eyes began to close as well. Ruguer stood and announced that the heroes of today’s activities were now leaving for a well-earned night of sleep. That brought another heartfelt round of applause which woke Meena. The others stayed on but Meena, Pulg, Dwan and I left, shaking the many offered hands as we made our way back up through the lines of tables.
Back in our room Dwan ignored my announcement of another suspected wound on my thigh that her earlier examination had missed. I then tried to compel her by reminding her that I was an official hero who had certainly earned adequate medical attention. That also fell flat so I tried to make her aware of the fact that there were probably numerous women in the kingdom tonight who were in envy of her special circumstances. That earned me an invitation to go searching for those particular women.
The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1) Page 33