by Peter Last
“As you say, sir,” Cirro answered and turned to relay the order to his men. When this was done, he turned back to Josiah. “What is the plan, if I may ask?” he said.
“I don’t know,” Josiah answered. “The General is going to want to meet with the commanders in the southeast tower, so I’m off.”
“It’s kind of different, isn’t it sir,” Cirro commented. Josiah gave a questioning look to his Captain who continued. “The old General was too much of a coward to have his headquarters on the wall. He tended to hide out behind our lines.”
“That man was not fit to lead an army,” Josiah stated firmly. “The new General, on the other hand, is a very capable commander, and they tell me that he has also been in several battles before, so we can be sure that he won’t run. In fact, I feel almost safe under the man’s command, even if we are facing this massive force,” Josiah motioned to the army to the north. “Anyway, you know the drill; if the enemy attacks when I’m gone, don’t lose your head.”
“No sir, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cirro assured him. Josiah jogged to the tower that the new General used as a headquarters in case of an attack and entered the bright interior. In actuality, the tower was lit by only a few candles and two lanterns, but the contrast with the darkness outside created the illusion of a brightly lit room. The General was already in the tower, but no other commanders were, so after saluting, Josiah took a seat at the table where the General was seated. A map of the city and surrounding areas was spread on the table, and small figurines indicating enemy and friendly forces littered it. One glance at the number of enemy figurines made Josiah’s heart sink dramatically. From the wall it was obvious that the enemy force was large, but he didn’t realize the true enormity of it.
“So what do you think, Commander?” the General asked, staring at Josiah.
“It’s a lot of men, General,” Josiah answered, his gaze fixed on the enemy forces.
“Oh, this isn’t a sure number of soldiers,” the General explained and waved at the enemy figurines. “Our intelligence estimated that this is how many soldiers they have, but that is only an estimate. The true number could be several thousand more or less than what I have here.”
“What of their siege equipment?” Josiah asked. “Is there any estimate on how much of that they have?”
“Our best guess is around five hundred pieces total - about half of them being catapults,” the General answered. “That is only the equipment we can see, though. They could have some further back in their formation that we can’t see now.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the catapults,” Josiah advised. “When the wall was rebuilt, its thickness was doubled, and its construction is sounder than that of the old one. The catapults’ projectiles shouldn’t damage it too much, at least initially. The real problem is going to be with the trebuchets and ballistae. They have enough range and power to really wreak havoc on our men and siege equipment.”
“So you think that the trebuchets and ballistae are our biggest problem?” the General said thoughtfully as he stared at the map.
“Not necessarily,” Josiah said. “The enemy has so many foot soldiers that if they got in their heads to simply charge the wall and use ladders, they would succeed purely due to their massive numbers. And if they gain the wall, we are almost defeated.”
“Agreed,” the General commented. “If they overrun the city, our only option for survival will be to run away, and running isn’t something I like to do.”
“Nor I, General. Nor I.”
******
Thunder shook the wall, and the rain continued to pour down on the soldiers. Josiah’s only consolation was that the enemy was experiencing the same things that he and his men were. A strong wind whipped down the wall, biting through the clothes that the soldiers wore and making them shiver. Josiah looked over his shoulder at the city behind him and saw a long line of servants, cooks, and other workers that the city housed making their way through the south gates. During the meeting with the General, it was decided it would be safer for all of the noncombatants to leave the city until the battle was over. In addition, a messenger was leaving to request help from Feling, but Josiah did not feel hopeful that they would arrive in time. It was also resolved that the only sensible course of action for the soldiers was to hold the city as long as possible and then fall back as slowly as possible in order to buy time for reinforcements to arrive. Everyone agreed that the city should not fall into enemy hands, so people were standing by ready to torch it when a retreat became necessary. Josiah glanced down the wall and saw soldiers ready in every quadrant. During the reconstruction of the wall, meurtrière, or 'murder holes' as the soldiers fondly referred to them, had been added, and men were standing at them ready to dump boiling oil and rocks on any attackers that got too close to the wall. At least the city would not be as easily taken this time.
Josiah looked proudly at his men standing in perfect order and waiting for the attack. About a quarter of them had bows, and these had them strung and ready, waiting only for the order to draw, aim, and fire. Behind them stood soldiers with swords, axes, maces, spears, and pikes. Each had a determined look in his eyes that indicated that the enemy would be hard pressed to take their position. Unfortunately, Josiah knew that the enemy was up to the task. At the edge of the wall, several of Josiah’s men stood unarmed. They crouched behind the crenellations and beside the murder holes, waiting for unlucky enemies to venture too close to the wall. Down the wall a hundred feet stood a short, stocky tower, and mounted atop it was a mangonel. This machine was similar to a catapult but had a sling on the end of the arm. It was designed to throw numerous stones at a time, and Josiah knew that the outcome of the battle might lie with this machine and others like it.
The enemy was getting closer, almost to within siege engine range. Josiah gave an order and the infantrymen moved in among the archers and readied their shields. In the event of a catapult or ballistae attack, they would raise them to shield the bowmen. The enemy army seemed to halt its advance. Even from his position Josiah could see that their engineers were mounting the catapults and ballistae and readying them for an attack. The dismantled trebuchets were also being assembled and teams of men were dragging massive stones to them.
“So you think that we’re going to survive this?” The question came from Josiah’s right, and he turned to see Cirro standing there.
“I wish I knew,” Josiah replied. “I’m not worried about the catapults. Their range and power is probably not enough to damage the wall severely. What I am worried about is the trebuchets and ballistae. They both have enough range to reach the wall and do some damage. We can deal with the ballistae if we duck when they fire, but if they fire them randomly, we may not fare so well. The trebuchets have a long enough range that they should be able to drop rocks almost straight down on the wall. That may not do too much damage to our soldiers if we’re lucky, but they could mess our siege equipment up pretty badly.”
“Elohim protect us,” Cirro muttered; Josiah silently agreed.
The enemy engineers worked quickly, but even they could not beat the speed of the wall’s battle machines. All down the wall, orders were given and the tower-mounted mangonels and ballistae released their missiles. Josiah watched as the machine near him hurled its load of stones toward the enemy ranks. The stones, each about as big as a man, would have been devastating had they reached their target; however, they fell short of the enemy’s lines by a good thirty yards. The machine was quickly reloaded by its crew and again it let its load fly, this time with more force. The boulders arched through the air, and as he watched, Josiah knew that they would hit their target this time. They smashed into the enemy lines, bouncing in all directions and crushing men and equipment wherever they went. All along the enemy line, siege equipment was being damaged and destroyed, but for every piece that was hit by a missile, three more were not damaged. To make matters worse, more equipment was being brought up to replace that which was destroyed. The wall was
able to make one more barrage before the enemy siege equipment was ready to fire. The catapults fired first, and as Josiah had predicted most of their boulders never even reached the wall but dropped short. Those that reached the wall hit it and bounced off, making no impact for their efforts. Next up to fire were the ballistae, and their effect was much more serious.
“Shields up!” Josiah yelled when he saw the massive javelins hurtling toward the wall. His men obediently raised their shields, but the armor did little good. Wherever the weapons hit, they slammed through the shields and killed the men under them instantaneously.
“Under the wall,” Josiah ordered his men, and they all crowded to the crenellations. Josiah followed them and peered through an arrow slit. The enemy ballistae were firing at will now, and their javelins were raining onto the wall. Josiah’s men crowed further under the short wall that offered them protection. Josiah glanced over his men again and saw that most were cowering and fear was in many of their eyes, but he was pleased to see determination as well. These soldiers would die fighting; they would die serving their country. A man appeared down the wall. He was running toward Josiah’s position, and the commander watched him with interest, waiting to see if he would bring any news or orders. The man sprinted the last few yards to Josiah and crouched down beside him.
“Commander?” he asked.
“That’s me,” Josiah answered.
“Order from the General,” the messenger said. “He has decided that you aren’t doing any good up on the wall, so you are to take your men to the base of it and wait out the siege equipment attack.”
“Very good,” Josiah said. “I understand.”
The messenger offered a salute to Josiah and headed off down the wall again. Josiah turned to his men and immediately wondered how he was going to relay the message to them. The normal channels of communication would not be effective in their current position, and he could not think of any other way. Finally he turned to the soldiers next to him.
“Everyone follow me,” he told the men and sprinted to the opposite side of the wall. Quickly he bounded down a set of stairs, only looking back when he had reached the bottom. He was pleased to see that his plan had worked, and his men were following him. With curt hand motions he ordered them to spread out along the base of the wall. When everyone had settled in, he sat down on the wet grass to wait.
******
Senndra slid off of Feddir’s back and jogged through the rain toward a building that had been cleared for the cadets from the academy. Rain fell in the city of Belmoth just as it had at the top of the mountain, and Senndra wondered if it would ever stop. She ran the last few yards to the building and passed through the door into a large room. Already it was beginning to fill with cadets, so she hurried to what was clearly the girls’ side and threw her few provisions on the floor, claiming a spot. She did not see anyone that she knew, and she was already feeling tired from the frenzied activity of the last few hours, so she lay down with her head resting on her pack. She closed her eyes, but despite her tired state found it difficult to fall asleep. The fear and surprise that she had felt in her dragon and the sudden evacuation of the academy all puzzled and worried her, and the constant rain did nothing but exacerbate the fear. She knew that Timothy was on the other side of the hall somewhere, but right now she wished that she could see and touch him. Then again, he was often less than comforting. Their relationship had grown in the past six months, albeit slowly due to the pressures of academy life. At the same time, Timothy seemed to be all over the map emotionally. Sometimes he was frank and open with Senndra, but other times he was cold and emotionally distant. The constant switching in attitude was certainly out of character for him, and Senndra didn't know what to think. Apparently despite how well she thought she knew a guy, boys were still weird. Eventually the swirling of thoughts exhausted her, and she fell asleep.
Senndra woke with a start. The building was still shaking from a particularly loud clap of thunder. The lights were out, and all of the cadets appeared to be asleep. At least the chorus of snores seemed to indicate as much. Senndra rolled over and closed her eyes again, but sleep would not come. She lay there for fifteen minutes before she rose and headed for the door of the building. It was still raining outside, so she wrapped her cloak tightly around herself and stepped out into the downpour. At a fast pace she trotted to the wall at the north of the city and reached it in only a few minutes. She located a staircase to the top and ascended it quickly. Once on the wall she moved to the northern edge and looked out over the plain on the other side. The wind blew the rain into her face, and stung her eyes, so she turned her face away. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a slight movement, so slight in fact that she almost missed it. She jerked her head back to the plain and stared out into the darkness, but nothing was visible. Slowly she swung her gaze across the whole plain, and out of the corner of her eye she again saw a slight movement. This time she didn’t jerk to face it but froze and watched it from where she was. She became aware of a figure moving across the open field, and as she watched, more figures became visible. Turning her head toward the figures, she was finally able to see them clearly. The stocky forms of dwarves and gangly forms of goblins were still several hundred yards out, yet they were approaching the gate at a quick pace. It took Senndra a few precious seconds to realize what she was seeing, and the enemies moved closer to the gate. She regained her senses and burst down the wall at a dead sprint, yelling a warning to the guards at the gate. She was too far away for them to hear what she was saying; however, the dwarves and goblins heard her and quickened their pace. Senndra reached the gate and, without checking her pace, leaped down the stairs that led into the gatehouse. The men on duty there were startled by her quick appearance and jumped to their feet, pulling their swords from their sheaths.
“The gate, you have to close the gate!” Senndra cried urgently between gasps of air. “Enemies are approaching; they’re about to enter the city.”
The soldiers hesitated, so Senndra rushed past them and began to pull at the large wheel that controlled the gate. For a second the soldiers did not know what to do with the female cadet before them. She appeared to believe what she was saying, but then again maybe she was up to some mischief. The men dropped their swords and began to crank at the wheel. There was really only enough room for two at the wheel, so Senndra surrendered her place to the two soldiers.
Gathering her breath, she shoved open the gatehouse door and rushed out to where the gates where slowly closing. The goblins had pulled ahead of the dwarves in their frenzied race toward the closing gates, and Senndra saw that they would reach them long before they were sealed. Swiftly she pulled her bow from the quiver on her back and strung it. Snatching an arrow from her quiver, she placed it on the bow string, and pulled it back. Closing one eye, she sighted down the arrow and drew a bead on the chest of one of the goblins. She released the arrow and watched as it sailed straight and true into the chest of the target, throwing him backwards onto the wet ground. Already her hands were pulling another arrow from the quiver, and in an instant it was flying at another goblin. The darkness masked the true numbers of the enemy, but by the noise, Senndra knew that there was a multitude. Quickly she loosed another arrow into the goblins, but they were already in the gate. Senndra sent a fourth arrow into the goblins and knew that she would never survive their onslaught.
Still, she slung the bow over her shoulder and drew the short sword from its sheath on her quiver. To her left and right she heard the iron-shod boots of the watchmen coming down from the wall, and she was thankful that she would not be facing the goblins alone. Five heavily armed men joined her, but even they looked pathetically small compared to the force that was attacking. Quickly they drew their swords, stepped in front of Senndra, and braced themselves for the attack. Senndra stabbed her sword into the dirt, jerked her bow from its place across her shoulders, and nocked an arrow. The goblins hit the five soldiers in front of her, immediately bearing one to th
e ground and viciously engaging the other four. A goblin jumped into the gap where the fifth man had stood, but before he could swing his weapon, Senndra dropped him with an arrow through his throat.
They heard the roar of a rushing wind above them, and a massive form slammed into the ground between the soldiers and the gate. The ground shook with the impact, throwing goblins and humans alike to the ground. A thunderous roar came from the huge beast, and goblins shrieked and ran away only to find their escape cut off as the city gates shut with a crash. A dragon’s head materialized out of the dark silhouette and swept away the goblins immediately in front of the soldiers. The dragon’s eyes met with Senndra’s and she immediately recognized Feddir. Rage filled his eyes, and with a massive sweep of his tail he hurled the remainder of the goblins into the closed gate. His neck flew out, and a goblin arced through the air, smashing into the ground less than ten feet from Senndra. Feddir’s head flashed forward again, and two dwarves sailed upward into the side of the gatehouse. They bounced off the rough stones and crashed into the ground near Feddir’s front foot. The dragon’s massive limb rose into the air and slammed down on the two bodies, smashing them to pieces and shaking the ground.
Senndra stared at her dragon in shock. Before today, she had never witnessed such viciousness from him, but now she had seen it twice in the last few hours. He coiled his legs and leaped into the air, clearing the gate by only a few feet. She scrambled to her feet and raced up the stairs to the wall; as she did so, dragons of all sizes and colors screamed over her head toward the enemy.
As she reached the top of the wall, the shrill sound of a bell broke across the city calling the soldiers and cadets to defend wall. She turned and looked out across the city. For a few seconds everything was dark as if nothing had happened; then people began to spill from buildings, most still pulling on their armor or strapping on their weapons. With incredible speed they raced toward the wall. Senndra jogged to the far edge and peered over into the darkness on the other side. Except now there was no darkness. The enemy, realizing that the time for stealth was past, had lighted thousands of torches, revealing the siege engines that were assembled less than half a mile from the wall. In the sky, dragons circled the goblins and dwarves that fled back toward their lines. Senndra smiled, knowing that the dragons would make short work of the enemy siege machines.