A Burden Given

by James Bee

  “Does it matter?”Lucan asked softly. “What they want, we cannot give. Tomorrow they will come, and it is up to us to kill them.”He took a step closer, dropping his voice so low that Gerald could barely hear.

  “I wonder if you’ve asked yourself where I obtained my education on the Sanish?”Gerald shook his head. He hadn’t wondered how the priest could know so much about them. Though now it seemed odd, given his clear hatred. “I was taken. As a boy, hardly ten years old. They came, slaughtered my parents, and took me. For years I was their thrall, lower than a dog. I was used, and used cruelly. You say that they are just as we are? Just men and women, flesh and blood? You know nothing of what they are.”

  Lucan was spitting the words out now, as though his rage was choking him. “Imagine you were raised in the woods, away from your precious castle and your servants. Living underneath the trees, freezing in the winter. Living through countless raids, constantly on watch. Seeing your siblings killed, your friends taken by other tribes. Taught how to kill at a young age. One their fourteenth year, they take a life. A captive or slave. Imagine seeing all that death? Certainly you can. You’ve been on battlefields, and I’m sure your soul bears the marks. These clansmen, they live with death every day. What do you think the value of a human life is to them? Less than dirt. I know what will happen if Redstone falls. What will happen to every living being within. I will not let that harm befall my people. I will see to them instead. Better to end it quickly then to let them suffer as I have. One last mercy. I will pray for you tomorrow, bastard. The fate of Redstone lies on your shoulders.”Lucan turned and stalked back inside, leaving Gerald alone with his words.

  32

  Chapter 32

  The morning sun slowly rose over the wall, bathing them in the first light of the day. Gerald shifted nervously. It would happen soon, he knew. The tension was building, rising, becoming more unbearable by the second.

  “They haven’t gifted us an arrow in a while,”Kayl remarked.

  “Why don’t you go stick you head up. See what’s on the other side,”Gerald said dryly. A few men nearby laughed.

  “No thank you. I like surprises. Always have. Why don’t we just wait for them,”Kayl replied. The longer that nothing happened, the more nervous Gerald became. Could they have attacked the west gate with their full force? Gerald’s ears had been straining, trying to catch the note of a horn on the breeze. Both gates had runners, but there was no guarantee that they would make it across the town. The patrols were stretched thin, even with the miners.

  “They’ll come. Trust me. They have to triumph today, or they risk all. Word will have reached the other towns by now. They can’t risk reinforcements reaching here while they’ll still outside the walls. Attack everywhere and overwhelm us with numbers. That’s what I would do,”Kayl said. He was fully armoured, and as far as Gerald could tell, he hadn’t taken it off since yesterday. Though normally shining and spotless, it now sported a myriad of scrapes and dents.

  “Kayl. Did you see the big one yesterday? The one that nearly did me in?”Gerald asked. The tall man shook his head, the bull’s helmet catching the light and shining it back.

  “No. Hopefully that stays true for today. Let Blane deal with him, the old bastard,”Kayl replied. Gerald shuddered, reliving the night in the woods. The campfire. The giant man standing, staring out at them. Blood dripping from the weapon in his hand. Then him standing on the street, standing over him. Suddenly the sun comforted him. “Monsters can’t survive in the day, the light strips the fear of the unknown away.” It was a passage from an old book, one he’d read as a child. Somehow, it comforted him.

  “Kayl…”Gerald leaned in. “If I don’t live through the day.”Kayl shook his head and pushed him away. Gerald gritted his teeth at the sudden pain in his shoulder.

  “You’re not going to die today, Gerald. We’re going to make it out of this. All three of us,”Kayl said angrily. Taken aback by the venom in his voice, Gerald nodded.

  “If they get to Orland, it’s likely we’ve been dead for quite some time,”he mused. Gerald would have said more, if not for the stream of arrows that flew over the walls.

  “COVER!”Kayl yelled. The two of them pressed up against the wood, along with what was left of Kayl’s soldiers. Only half remained of the fifty that had marched out of the woods less than month earlier. It seemed like an eternity since they’d arrived. The rest of the men were either dead or wounded, and it was more than likely the rest would end up the same way before the day was done.

  Arrow after arrow fell, piercing the dirt. The sheer number put a worried pit in Gerald’s guts. If they’re content with using this many, there won’t be a battle tomorrow. They’re committed.

  “Brace the gate!”Gerald yelled. The soldiers hurried to respond, pressing themselves against the pitted and cracked wood. It looked a pitiful thing, broken and battered. Gerald put little faith on it. They’ll get in. They’ll swarm through and drown us with their numbers. Leaning back, he eased his sword out of its sheath. From his neck to his toes, he ached. Too many battles, too much fighting. Gerald chuckled bitterly, remembering how he’d felt when they’d been sent. How he’d lamented, prepared for months upon months of boredom. Now boredom seemed a luxury, one he desperately wished he had.

  Something very heavy crashed against the gate, nearly buckling it. Men were sent reeling but quickly rushed back and pressed their weight against it. Another blow fell, and shards of wood flew through the air. Kayl bellowed a command, and men with spears crowded close, waiting. Another blow. The gate wouldn’t hold for much longer.

  Through the fear and anticipation, Gerald felt a peace settle on him. Once they broke through, the weight of Redstone would be taken from his shoulders. There would be nothing more he could do. Nothing but fight. And die. Die for people who had hated him, said his name with scorn. Called him bastard behind his back, sneered as he walked the streets. Was it worth it?

  Don’t suppose it matters much now. Fighting for my own life will have to be enough. And Orland’s, and Felicia’s. Another thunderous blow landed on the gate. Gerald doubted it had one more in it. A hand appeared beside him, belonging to Kayl. Gerald clasped it, and nodded to him. He had no words left. What could he say to his friend after all the years together?

  With a shriek of tortured wood, the gate collapsed. The timbers had hardly hit the ground before Kayl’s men were in the gap, thrusting spears through. A seething mass of weapons contended with their own. Shouting and the sounds of clashing metal filled the air, setting Gerald’s teeth on edge.

  The clansmen fought fiercely, but they had little answer for the spears. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Kayl’s men thrust and jabbed, driving them back. The northerners’ light armour provided little protection against the honed speartips. One after another fell, blood rushing from wounds. More filled their place, but Gerald knew it didn’t matter. We just have to kill enough, just enough to take their heart from them. The Sanish were far from home, fighting to conquer, to gain plunder. Gerald and the townsfolk were fighting for their lives; they had nowhere to run to. They would fight till the death. There was no alternative, but the Sanish could always leave. All they had to do was break their morale.

  More and more clansmen fell. The ones behind slowed, became more hesitant. Gerald smiled triumphantly. If we can hold them here, they won’t…His train of thought was cut off by a shouted warning. A soldier was pointing upward. Gerald followed his finger, and an icy jolt of shock went through his heart.

  A man was standing atop the wall. He held a curved club high above his head. Gerald’s breath abandoned him. It was the giant. He raised his weapon high, bellowing. More and more men appeared, climbing the walls. A dozen stood, tall and well-armed. They can’t mean to …it’s nearly as high as three men! The thought barely entered his mind before they leaped.

  A man landed nearby, rolling onto his feet. More fell into their midst, bringing chaos with them. Out of the corner of his eye, Gerald saw some rus
h the spear wall. At the same time, the clansmen outside renewed their assault. Gerald’s attention was then suddenly focused on the warrior in front of him.

  The man had a mane of red hair flowing to his shoulders. He held a massive broadsword with both hands. The sight of it infuriated Gerald. There was no question of where the clansman had gotten it. With a snarl, Gerald lunged.

  His attack caught the man by surprise. The blade slid across his chest, cutting a red line. The clansman managed to bring the hilt up into Gerald’s face. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backward. Shouting triumphantly, the red-haired man lifted the sword above his head. The strike was the clumsy; the man was clearly unused to the blade. Years of training took over and Gerald slid beside it, cutting into the warrior’s stomach. Yet the man didn’t fall. Instead he slashed at Gerald. The blow landed on his shield, sending waves of pain into his shoulder. Nerveless fingers let the shield drop. The man hacked at him again, but this time Gerald anticipated. His sword cut into the man for a third time. This time the man went down, clutching his ruined stomach. Gerald finished him quickly.

  Around him, the battle had disintegrated. The gate was a confusing mass of bodies. The Sanish were pushing through, aided by the surprise attack. Gerald could see the bull helmet in the middle of the fray. The giant clansmen was nearby, swinging his club as though it was weightless. The two men meeting was inevitable. The flow of combat was bringing them together. Gerald knew he had to get there and help his friend.

  A lanky clansmen blocked the way, swinging an axe at his head. Gerald met the blow with his blade, turning it aside. The man’s fist sunk deep into Gerald’s side, winding him. Bringing his head forward, he smashed his helm in the taller man’s chin. Dazed, the clansmen stepped backward. A blow from Gerald’s sword tore the axe from his hand. Another and the man fell.

  Ahead, Kayl and the giant found each other. A wide berth had opened around them. The two men moved around each other, their weapons a blur. Gerald strode forward, intent on reaching the battle.

  Then the line holding the gate broke. Clansmen rushed into the gap, cutting him off from the duel. Nearby, a knot of soldiers had finished with those who’d leapt over the wall. Gerald raised his sword. “WITH ME!”he shouted. They met the Sanish charge and stopped it. Gerald gave himself over to the fury of the combat. Hacking, slashing, pushing, screaming, roaring. Blows fell on his armour, crashing into him. Ignoring them, he felled man after man. One thought only dominated his mind. Get to Kayl!

  His sword slashed across the snarling face of a clansmen. Shouldering the man aside, Gerald broke through the melee. The giant Sanish stood just ahead, blood leaking out from many wounds. He was smashing his club down, over and over again. Smashing it onto a fallen figure. The warrior’s armour was ruined, crushed and dented. Yet his helmet was still recognizable.

  With a strangled yell, Gerald ran forward. The hulking man turned toward him. Too slow, his injuries making him sluggish. His club rose, but Gerald hacked at the arm. Then his blade took the man’s leg. The giant collapsed to one knee. Massive hands tried to grasp him, but Gerald slashed them away. The man raised his arms again, this time in surrender. Gerald paused, for a moment only.

  Then he brought his sword down.

  Seeing the giant warrior felled stole the heart from the rest of the clansmen. Most fled, though some chose to stand and die. What soldiers remained drove them back through the gate, shouting insults at their backs as they fled into the forests. Gerald didn’t join them. He was kneeling, holding the battered helmet in his hands.

  He knelt there, numb, until a voice shouting nearby shook him free from his trance.

  “SIR! WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?”A face pressed nearby, blood leaking from a cut above an eye. Dimly, Gerald recognized the face as one of the soldiers. Carefully, he set the helmet back down beside his oldest friend. Then he stood, slowly and carefully.

  A dozen men stood staring at him, all that was left. They were waiting for something. For him. Gerald’s mind was blank. What to do?

  “Stay here. Guard the gate. I’ll be back,”Gerald said, striding away down the wall. Dimly, he knew he needed to make it to the other gate. Need to see if they held.

  As he moved farther away from the gate, the screams of the wounded faded behind him. The rest of the town was quiet, unnervingly so. Here and there an arrow stuck out of the dirt. Gerald could tell by the angle that they’d been shot from over the wall. To what purpose, Gerald could only imagine. A waste of arrows, Gerald thought absently, looking around. The farther he walked, the more a sense of unease grew on him. Where were the patrols? Had Raul betrayed them? Had they run off to help protect the other gate? Or perhaps the church? What if something had happened to it? Gerald had to stop himself from running off to see if it had fallen. If Orland had been hurt.

  Orland. When he finds out about Kayl…Gerald stopped himself and pushed the thought aside. One thing at a time. That was the only way to survive. Let everything in and he’d paralyzed. Too many people are counting on me. I can grieve later.

  A body up ahead gave him pause. Gerald ran up to it. It was impossible to tell who it was from a distance. As he drew close, a bloody hammer was visible beside the corpse. Kneeling beside the fallen man, Gerald gently turned him over. Immediately, it was clear that the man was not Sanish. His face was free of tattoos or any other markings. One of Raul’s men, perhaps. Gerald left him. Now was a time for making dead men, not burying them.

  More and more bodies lay strewn on the ground as he walked closer to the western gate. Evidence of a pitched battle was everywhere. Arrows, shattered shields, dead men from both sides. More miners lay amongst the Redstone dead. Their loyalty was proven, if nothing else. Gerald walked on, eyes numbed to death.

  A faint noise drifted on the breeze toward him. Tinkling, quiet yet familiar. Increasing his pace, Gerald hurried toward it. The sound grew louder, faint cries accompanying the sound. His mind clouded by exhaustion and shock, Gerald was slow to realize what he was hearing. Combat!

  Breaking into a run, he rushed toward the din. Only one guess was needed to the location of the fighting. As he rounded a corner, the western gate came into view. A vicious battle was underway. Even from afar, Gerald could tell that the garrison was struggling. Blane had managed to form a line in front of the gate, but it was buckling slowly. The clansmen were pressing, fighting desperately. Gerald broke into a sprint, cursing himself for not bringing at least a few men with him. As he drew close, a familiar figure stood out in front of him.

  Blane was in trouble. The line had been pushed far enough back that clansmen were trying to come around the flank. If that happened, it would be a disaster. Two men were hammering away at Blane, trying to bring him down. Yet the aged warrior kept them at bay. The man’s skill was obvious, his reputation well deserved. Yet the commander wouldn’t last long. His shield had cracked and splintered under the onslaught.

  Gerald ripped his sword clear of its sheath. The first man barely saw him coming, eyes widening in shock as he went down. The second tried to turn, but Blane hacked at his knee. The clansmen’s cry was cut short by Gerald’s blade. His sudden appearance had an impact on the battle. The Sanish advance halted.

  “FORWARD!”Blane bellowed. The garrison pressed forward. The fighting was ferocious, each side desperately trying to kill the other. Swords, spears, and axes crashed into him, but he ignored them. Their advance broken, the Sanish gave ground, grudgingly, spilling blood for every patch. Finally they broke, fleeing from the town. Some men made to give chase, but Blane called them back.

  Instead, they turned their attention to the Sanish wounded. Before Gerald could speak it was over. All were killed. An act that should have been unspeakable on the field of battle. Something that would have revolted him spurred him to action.

  Yet he felt nothing. This was no true battlefield. These clansmen had come down and attacked, bent on killing all those within. Why? Gerald didn’t know, but he was determined to find out.

&nb
sp; “Well met, Gerald. Never thought I’d be glad to see you,”Blane said, standing beside him, hand outstretched. Gerald grasped it, and Blane drew him close.

  “Glad to see you still on your feet. Fighting is for young men,”Gerald replied, sheathing his sword.

  “Aye, I think this was my last one. Get the wounded away from the gate!”Blane yelled, before turning back to Gerald. “How did things go on your side? Too bloody close over here if you ask me. These bastards fight like demons are behind them.”

  “We held. Barely. Kayl has fallen,”Gerald replied. Saying it didn’t sound real, like a mistake. How could his friend be dead? Someone kill Kayl? Unthinkable.

  “Sorry to hear that, lad. Kayl was a good man. As good as they come,”Blane said, wearily leaning on his sword. “Too many good men died today, far too many. Someone has to account for it.”Gerald nodded. A sudden thought grabbed him, dragging him back down into panic.

  “The church!”Blane’s eyes widened.

  “There was fighting! Raul and the miners went!”Blane said, looking into town.

  “He didn’t return?”Gerald asked. Lucan shook his head. A cold feeling began to seep into Gerald’s bones. “Lend me five men. Keep the rest here. The Sanish might not be beat yet. I’ll go see to the others.”Gerald took a deep breath and started off toward the church. Blane yelled orders, and a handful of men began to follow him. All were sporting wounds, eyes carrying the far-off gaze of a man fresh from a waking nightmare. More than likely most have never seen combat before. A hard lesson.

  “You men did well to hold the gate against so many. Not many companies in the king’s service could have done so well. You should be proud. You’ve kept your town safe,”Gerald said. His words had little effect, if the men had even heard him.

  The church was not far from the gate, and they reached it quickly. Even from a distance Gerald could see the clear signs of fighting. Bodies lay on the ground, some moving, some not. Arrows lined the ground, providing a trail up to the church walls.