Warrior Knight
Page 27
“It was inevitable,” said Ludwig. “It was my plan that failed to take the gatehouse.”
“No,” she corrected. “I mean about professing my love for you. It was a terrible burden to place upon your shoulders. I just assumed you were meant for me, that fate had brought us together. Never did I consider the possibility you were already spoken for.”
“I should have been clearer on the matter rather than lead you on. It's my fault, not yours.”
She forced a smile. “Honourable to the end? I should have known.”
* * *
At Rosalyn’s insistence, they made their way to the great hall where they found Lord Wulfram, directing his men to place the tables against the barred door. He noted their arrival, moving to intercept them.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You should be below, in the cellar. It’s far too dangerous.”
“I would see you, Father, before it’s too late.”
Ludwig could feel a lump forming in his throat. Was this also the last time he would see Lord Wulfram? Rosalyn moved quickly to her father's side, giving him an embrace. The baron, for all his stoicism, enveloped her in his arms.
“It shall be fine, Rosalyn,” he soothed. “You will survive this.”
“And what of you?” she sobbed. “How can I take refuge knowing you will die here, in this very hall?”
He placed her at arm's length. “See here now,” he said. “We all have to go, eventually. Better for me to die a heroic death than waste away of disease.”
Ludwig noticed her temper flaring.
“Heroic death?" she said. "There's no such thing. Death is final, Father, not something to be actively sought. You taught me honour was important, but I see no honour in dying needlessly. Surely it's better to live that you might see another day?”
Lord Wulfram clenched his jaw. “I don’t expect you to understand,” he said, “but a man cannot suffer the loss of his dignity.”
“At the same time, I am to suffer the loss of my father? What dignity is there in that?” She turned to Ludwig. “And what of you? You stand here in witness. Can you honestly say his death is preferable to dishonour?”
Ludwig felt caught in the middle, struggling to come up with some form of compromise.
“Well?” Rosalyn urged.
Ludwig turned to the baron. “I cannot, in good conscience, approve of your decision, my lord.”
Lord Wulfram's face dissolved in disappointment. “I thought I knew you better, my young friend. Have I taught you nothing?”
Ludwig grew defensive. “You taught me to fight for what I believe in, and my gut tells me you are wrong in this.”
“Have you lost your mind? You know what Stein will do to me should I be captured.”
“No, I don’t, and neither do you. The truth is none of us know, but I find it very unlikely he would hold your life over Rosalyn. It would certainly not endear him to her.”
“So I am to simply surrender?”
Ludwig was suddenly struck by an idea. “Surrender, no, but we must make his assault costly.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Ludwig broke out into a smile. “It has just occurred to me, my lord, that we hold the advantage?”
“We do?” said Lord Wulfram. “It’s certainly not clear to me.”
“If Lord Gebhard merely wanted to destroy us, he could reduce the keep to rubble. Saints know he has enough catapults, but he wants Rosalyn alive and unhurt, and the only way to do that is to send his warriors into the keep.”
“And?”
“I propose we let him in.”
“How in the Continent will that help us?”
“It’s quite simple, really," said Ludwig. "He can’t batter down the walls. for fear the whole keep will collapse; that means he has to come through there.” He pointed at the main door. “If we plan this right, we can funnel his attack so we can reduce his numerical superiority.”
“How?” asked Rosalyn.
“The corridors are narrow,” continued Ludwig, “and Baron Stein’s men would be hard-pressed to get two men side by side. We, on the other hand, can pack the hallways with men armed with spears.”
Ludwig watched as Lord Wulfram regained his enthusiasm. “Yes, and make them pay for every footstep.”
“You also have curved stairs,” added Ludwig.
Rosalyn looked confused. “Of what significance is that?”
“The stairs circle to the right when ascending,” noted her father. “It means anyone attacking upwards has their right hand up against the central column, making it difficult to swing their swords.”
“Yes,” agreed Ludwig, “while the defenders would have their sword arms on the outside wall, allowing them freedom of movement.”
“Unless they’re left-handed,” added Rosalyn.
Her father smiled. “Ah, that’s a very clever observation, but the truth is there are very few left-handed warriors. I think on that score, we can rest assured the tactic is sound.”
“It would also make it next to impossible for them to utilize bows,” added Ludwig.
“But aren’t your friends attacking?” asked Rosalyn. “Surely you don’t want them killed?”
“I’m pretty sure Lord Gebhard will use the Blades of Vengeance once he’s ready.”
“How can you be so sure?"
“Several reasons, actually. First of all, they’re expensive, and he’ll want to get his investment out of them before he releases them. Second, they’re relatively well-armoured, thus making it harder for us to kill them.”
“Anything else?” asked Lord Wulfram.
“Yes," continued Ludwig. "They have a reputation for ruthlessness, and they’re more numerous than the Grim Defenders, which will be important when they try to overwhelm us. I’m sure he’ll send in his own men once the rooms are secure, but until then, I think it safe to assume we know what to expect.”
“So we fight as we withdraw,” said the baron, “leading them up as we go. I like the sounds of it.”
Rosalyn smiled. “I thought you took an oath to remain neutral.”
“Not quite,” said Ludwig. “I promised not to attempt escape, not to interfere with the defence of this keep. I wouldn’t call my suggestions interfering with the defence, would you?”
“But why?" asked the baron. "All you have to do is sit back and watch us fight. You’re still a prisoner here. Why help at all?”
“Lord Gebhard’s aggression is unjust,” explained Ludwig, “and quite frankly, it really burns my bacon.”
Rosalyn laughed. “Burns your bacon?”
“Sorry, it was the only thing I could think of that wasn’t crude. The truth is, were it in my power, I would call him out and demand a duel.”
“I’m afraid that would carry no weight here,” said Lord Wulfram. “Such things are explicitly forbidden by the duke.”
“Yet he allows a siege? Surely this is just as bad.”
“Still, it's our way.”
A pounding at the door drew their attention.
“Fear not,” said Lord Wulfram. “The door is solid enough. It will take more than a few knocks to bring it down.”
“How long will it take to prepare?” asked Rosalyn.
“Some time, I would imagine,” replied her father, “but I'm sure Stein will try to talk me into surrender. That ought to buy us a little while.”
“Then you must let me help,” she said.
“Help? How in the Continent would you help? I won’t have you wield a spear.”
“Nor do I intend to, but I must be of some use, surely?”
“She is an intelligent woman,” said Ludwig, “and understands the intent. Surely she could assist in the placement of obstacles, if only by directing where things are to go?”
“Very well,” said the baron. “Now pick up the end of that table and let’s get moving. We haven’t much time.”
26
Demands
Summer 1095 SR
* * *
“I don’t understand how you can be so smug,” said Rosalyn.
Ludwig looked back at her in surprise but then realized she was talking to her father.
Lord Wulfram grinned. “He’s bluffing, don’t you see? All of this is only meant to intimidate us.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not. Trust me.”
Ludwig could see the lingering doubt on Rosalyn’s face.
“How can you be so sure?” she pressed.
“It was easy enough to figure out,” replied the baron. “He wants you alive. He can hardly guarantee that if he reduces the keep to rubble.”
“Then why move the catapults into the courtyard?”
“As I said, it’s meant to intimidate us, nothing more. Wouldn’t you agree, Ludwig?”
“Certainly, my lord. The truth is, those weapons would be next to useless at this short range.”
“Useless?” said Rosalyn. “Won't they be even more dangerous?”
“Catapults release their stones into a high trajectory,” replied Ludwig. “They are not well-suited to such short ranges. If he meant to reduce the keep, he’d have been better off leaving them in the field that lies to the south of us.”
“Yes,” agreed Lord Wulfram. “So you see, my dear, it's little more than a bluff.”
“If that’s true,” asked Rosalyn, “then how will they gain entry?”
“Likely by using a ram. There’s little else that would serve their purpose.”
“Yes, and that will prove difficult,” added Ludwig, “for the main door is on the second floor. The steps leading up to it won’t make it easy to get a ram into position.”
“And who do we have to thank for that?” asked Rosalyn.
“Your great-grandfather’s the one who oversaw the construction of the place,” said the baron. “Quite clever, if you ask me. Of course, I never thought we’d need it. After all, who would attack us? It only goes to show you how dramatically things can change in a generation or two.” He turned to Ludwig. “Can you see what they’re up to?”
Ludwig returned his attention to the courtyard below. The team of horses had halted just inside, and he struggled to press his face up against the arrow slit to get a better view.
“Something’s going on,” he announced.
“What type of something?” asked the baron.
“It looks like one of the catapults has lost a wheel.”
“How does one lose a wheel?" asked Rosalyn. "Surely they didn’t misplace it?”
“I would guess it broke or fell off, but I can’t tell which. In any case, they’re unhooking the horses.” The sounds of swearing drifted to Ludwig's ears, eliciting a smile. “They don’t sound too happy about it, I can tell you. If curses could win wars, it’d be all over by now.”
“As entertaining as this is,” said Rosalyn, “all it’s really doing is delaying the inevitable. Why does he not simply attack us?”
“I suspect his men are tired, and this will garner them some much needed time to rest.”
“How much time?”
“I would think half the morning at least. How does one go about changing a wheel on a catapult?”
“That depends,” said Lord Wulfram. “If it only fell off, all they’d have to do is lift the catapult and slip it back on.”
“And how would they do that?” asked Ludwig.
“With a simple lever. Mind you, it would have to be strong. They couldn’t use a spear, for it’d likely snap.”
“And if the wheel is broken?”
“That presents a whole host of problems. For one, they’d have to make a new one. They don’t keep spares for things like that.”
Ludwig pressed his face back to the arrow slit in an effort to see more. “They’ve found a timber from somewhere," he said. "I think they seek to lift it.”
“Possibly,” said Lord Wulfram, suddenly alert, “but what if we slow them down a bit?”
“And how would we do that?”
“We still have a few arrows left,” noted the baron. “I’ll send a couple of archers to the roof. A few well-placed shots ought to keep them from completing their task.” He rushed from the room, leaving Ludwig alone with Rosalyn.
“Why must they play these games?” she asked. “I wish they would just be done with it.”
Ludwig’s attention remained on the activity below, but he heard the worry in Rosalyn’s voice. “We should be thankful for it,” he replied. “The longer it takes to get that thing in place, the more time we have to prepare.”
“Prepare? Is that what you call it? We've already shored up our defences. What more can we do?”
“We can pray,” said Ludwig. He looked skyward to where dark clouds were gathering.
“To what end? We are facing a lingering death, trapped like rats in a barrel. It would be better to have done with it.”
Below, a man gave a yell as an arrow struck him in the leg. It took only a moment for the rest to realize they were under attack, and then the work party fled into the cover of the gatehouse.
Ludwig chuckled. “That ought to keep them busy for a while.”
“Why?” asked Rosalyn. “What’s happening?”
“Your father’s archers have let loose with a few arrows. One of them hit its mark.”
More bellows came from below, including the distinctive voice of Lord Gebhard himself.
“Now what?” she asked.
“I’m not sure." Ludwig noticed men scurrying around, but to what end he couldn’t say. Moments later, the answer presented itself.
“Archers,” he said. “Crossbowmen, to be more precise. It appears Baron Stein has taken offence at his men being used for target practice.”
Bolts flew into the air, several clattering against the stone walls of the keep. “I don’t imagine he’s done much damage to us, but your father's plan to harass the workers has come to a screeching halt.”
“I didn’t know Lord Gebhard had crossbowmen,” said Rosalyn.
“I saw them earlier.” He examined the new arrivals in more detail. “I believe they're actually mercenaries.”
“The Grim Defenders, by chance?”
“No, they don’t have any missile troops. If anything, they belong to the Blades of Vengeance. Either that, or he’s hired even more men.”
“I doubt that,” said Rosalyn. “Lord Gebhard is notoriously tight with his funds.”
“But despite that, he's hired at least two groups of mercenaries. I wonder how he can afford that?”
“That’s simple. He expects his son to wed me. I’m worth a substantial dowry.”
“Is that what this is all about? Wealth?” said Ludwig. “I thought this was about Stein’s ego?”
“Greed might be a more apt description.”
“He must have taken on a great debt by bringing his feud here. Now I understand why he wouldn’t negotiate.”
“And why he hasn’t given up.”
“That too,” said Ludwig. “It also gives me hope.”
“In what way?”
“Every day he remains out there is another day his expenses mount. Keep it up long enough, and we’ll bankrupt the man.”
“He deserves no less.”
* * *
The morning wore on. Lord Gebhard ordered up more crossbowmen, piling them onto what remained of the curtain wall. Whenever anyone showed themselves at the top of the keep, they would loose a volley, driving the defenders back indoors.
Workers got back to repairing the catapult, and by noon it was being dragged into the courtyard. Even though it would be useless, Ludwig had to admit it was an imposing sight. By mid-afternoon, two others had joined it, resulting in a trio of
siege engines waiting there with their deadly cargo.
Shortly thereafter, a lone rider advanced towards the keep, a white flag in hand. Ludwig recognized the face of Captain Gottfried Jager, Lord Gebhard’s siege expert.
The man called out, demanding Lord Wulfram reveal himself. Moments later, the baron appeared. “Come along, Ludwig. It’s time to have some fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yes. Stein wants to negotiate. I suspect he’s getting impatient for a resolution to this conflict.”
“But surely it’s you he wants to talk to,” said Ludwig.
“Naturally, but you shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to see something like this. It doesn’t happen every day, you know.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Ludwig followed Lord Wulfram to the top of the keep where a warrior stood by, white flag in hand. At a nod from the baron, the man raised it, swinging it back and forth a few times to garner attention. His task complete, he stepped onto the battlement to peer down below, ensuring no bowmen stood ready to kill his lord.
“It's all set, my lord,” the warrior announced.
Lord Wulfram waited for the man to back up, then took his place. Ludwig stayed behind a merlon, safe from enemy bolts.
“Tell Lord Gebhard I’m here,” called out Baron Haas. “Let him show himself and make his demands known.”
“I am here at his behest,” yelled back Jager, “and am empowered to negotiate on his behalf.”
“I shall not deal with an underling. If your master wishes to discuss terms, then he must do so in person, not send in a lapdog.”
“I can assure you—”
“Get Lord Gebhard,” commanded Baron Haas. “I shall speak with no other.”
“Yes, my lord.” Ludwig heard the hesitation in Jager’s voice.
Lord Wulfram glanced at Ludwig and winked. The baron was enjoying this far too much.
“Is this wise?” asked Ludwig. “Should he choose not to recognize the sign of truce, he could have you killed.”
“I think you overestimate their chances,” replied the baron. “Don’t worry, my friend, if I see any of their archers raise their weapons, I shall remove myself from their sight.”