by Finley Aaron
“Hold the boats for now,” Ella advised, trotting up to reach him.
He grinned at the sight of her. “Our scouting party is back already. What have you learned?”
While I shrank to little more than nothing and perched upon her ear, Ella explained everything, along with the advice that we act immediately to take our enemies by surprise.
Henry saw the wisdom in her plan. His advisors had gathered around while Ella spoke, so by the end of it, they all knew what was going on as well.
“No point taking the boats back upstream, then,” Philip noted. “But it’s going to be a trick getting them downstream to pick up the prisoners. Even in darkness, the barges will be visible that close to shore. If we tip them off that we’re there, they’ll send in reinforcements, and we’ll have a battle on our hands.”
“But at the same time,” Lothar added, “we can’t wait until the prisoners reach the river. If they have to wait on the boats, they’ll be sitting ducks.”
“We’ll need a signal,” Henry agreed. “As soon as the guards atop the cliff have been incapacitated, we need a signal to let us know it’s time to get the boats in position. While the prisoners are being freed, we’ll row over. That way, we should reach them just as the men make it to the bottom of the hill.”
Ella nodded. “I can send up a bright blue spark,” she offered. “The men with the boats can be watching for it. When you see it, row for shore. There’s a spit of land all under the cliffs, and it’s not too rocky, so you should be able to get close enough to take on passengers, even weakened ones.”
With that established, we turned our attention to trying to determine how many men were needed for each task. Ella insisted on going to free the prisoners. She would lead the smallest group—they needed to be able to cross the river in the scuttle boats, and to avoid being seen, they’d cross the Danube near where we stood, carry the boats upstream from the Devin castle, and cross the Morava upstream from the old fortress, hopefully without being seen.
The bulk of the men would head for the bridge into Pressburg. If they could get across the river without raising an alarm, they’d stand some chance of freeing the horses and merchant carts. It would be a trick, especially since they’d need to hitch the horses to the carts, which were crammed in tight without much room to maneuver. And they’d be doing all of this in darkness, trying to avoid detection, and fighting off any attack.
The remaining men would stay with the boats, watch for Ella’s signal, and row to shore to pick up the freed prisoners.
Each group, having accomplished their task, would return to the spot where we now stood. The boats would not be able to make it far upriver, and the prisoners would likely not be fit to travel far on foot. They’d have to ride in the carts, which meant all parties would have to rendezvous somewhere, either on the riverbank or nearer the road that led from the Pressburg bridge, or, if they were hotly pursued, perhaps somewhere downstream.
“We’ve not much time,” Henry informed everyone once that much was established. “The sun will be up before we’re done, but it would be best if we could make our approach under cover of darkness. Is everyone ready?”
Henry fielded last minute questions while Ella established her group of eight men (seven besides herself), five of them lighter fellows, and two of them heavier, but the best archers. Together they were the maximum the three scuttle boats could hold. They gathered all the gear they’d need—every Roman-style key, swords and shields, longbows and crossbows, and the arrows they’d prepared, tied to strong-but-light silken ropes, with pronged heads to catch and hold the rock.
Then the two groups set off, one under Henry’s command headed toward the Pressburg Bridge, and the other across the Danube in the scuttle boats, leaving the third party to wait with the barges for Ella’s signal.
We crossed the Danube well enough out of sight of the castle. In the light of day they’d have seen us, but the moon was hidden by clouds, so there was nothing to reflect off the water and reveal our wake. We reached the other side and carried the boats. The biting bugs were merciless and the terrain, rough, but we managed to forge a path alongside the Morava to a point some ways upstream from the fortress, which we hoped was far enough as to be out of the sight of the watchmen.
There we put in and, paddling furiously so as not to be swept downstream, we banked far below the castle.
The sheer cliffs gave us some advantage, as they tapered off roundly at the top. No man could stand on their edge and lean over to look down—he’d slide away and fall to his death long before he got the vertical sheer of the cliffs into view.
Ella dispatched half the men, along with half the Roman keys (a fair sampling of each design) and sent them with their bows to the base of the cliffs.
She led the remaining three men up the steep side of the hill. Their shields were dark, so that, in addition to protecting them should the guards above let fly a volley of arrows, they helped somewhat to keep them hidden.
They climbed slowly, silently, just as Ella had previously discussed with her chosen band, and they paused now and then to listen.
There was no clamor of alarm from above, no shout of surprise. When they were three-quarters of the way to the top, she heard the twang of an arrow string, followed by a rattling clatter against the rocks.
“What’s that?” a guard asked above. “Is someone there?” His language was somewhat different from that of Charmont, but Ella knew the words from her travels.
“Probably a bird. It’s on the cliffs,” another guard replied. “You can go see, if you’re worried.”
“I’m not going any closer to those cliffs than I am now.”
“Nor I.”
Ella took advantage of their momentary distraction and the cover offered by the sound of their voices, and nodded a signal to her men before sprinting silently up the rest of the grassy hillside, almost to the rocks. There she paused to catch her breath and listen.
“It came again.”
“No, it did not.”
“I tell you, I heard the sound again.”
“Then go take a look.”
“You look.”
“You’re the one who heard it.”
“You’ve got to have heard it, too. You just don’t want to admit it because you don’t want to look. You’re scared of the cliffs.”
“It’s wise to be scared of the cliffs.”
“That it is but—there, did you hear? It came again!”
All this while, Ella and her men crept closer, taking great care in keeping every footfall perfectly silent, since the men were obviously alert and listening now.
Though the guards kept up arguing even as they listened. “That’s the rattle of the chains inside the dungeon, is all. They’re all a murmur tonight, haven’t you noticed? They’re awake and moving more than usual. It’s gone to your head. You’re hearing it everywhere now.”
“I tell you, the sound came from the cliffs. The prisoners aren’t rattling their chains at the cliffs, are they?”
As they spoke, the men crept forward, toward the walled edge of the paved walkway, away from the dungeon door.
From up the cliffside, more clanking metal rattled, as the archers who’d shot their arrows attempted the climb.
The two guards heard the sounds, and reached the crenelated battlement, looking down over the wall and shaking their heads. “There’s naught to be seen from here, not with the cliff head sloping off at the round.”
“Climb over the wall.”
“I will not! It’s suicide.”
“I’ll hold your hand so you don’t fall.”
“As though I’d trust you. Why don’t you crawl over, if it’s such a great idea?”
As the guards argued, Ella and her men darted as swiftly and silently as they could toward the door. It was, of course, locked.
Then came the tricky part: trying keys in the lock without being heard or seen.
The men climbing the cliff had keys as well, and these rattled
as they climbed, drawing the guards’ attention. Inside the dungeon, just as the guards had noted, the prisoners murmured, their chains rattling with their every movement.
No doubt they hadn’t slept since I’d flown away, leaving Bertie to spread the news of their pending release.
Ella tried two keys before she found one that fit. However, when she tried to open the door, the lock disengaged with a loud clonk.
“What’s that?” Both guards spun around, spotting Ella and her men immediately in spite of the darkness.
Ella drew her sword to meet the guards, while shoving her keys into the hands of the man nearest her.
The three took their keys and darted into the dungeon as Ella’s blade made contact with that of the first guard.
Chapter Thirty-One
“The signal!” Ella hissed, blocking a blow from the second guard with her shield, while jabbing her blade at the first guard, trying to force him back.
I shot up into the sky, swelling suddenly in size and emitting a burst of brilliant brightness that lit up the night sky like an explosion of fireworks.
“What in heaven!” The guards, already quaking in fear from the rattling sounds at the cliffside, and nervous from the beginning because of the murmuring prisoners, nearly wet themselves in alarm.
Their startled response was all Ella needed. She swiped the keys from the guard nearest her and rushed into the dungeon before the guards quite got over their fear enough to go after her.
She slammed the door in their faces and turned her attention to helping to free the prisoners.
Her three men had already each figured out which key to use, and had started in freeing men as quickly as they could work the locks.
The first three men freed threw themselves against the door, barring the guards from entering.
“Is there a way to lock it from inside?” one man asked.
“Not that I know of,” another prisoner answered. “Just lean against it. We don’t want it locked. We’ll need it open again in a moment.”
As more men were freed, they sprang up to hold the door against the assault.
“It’s just one guard at the door. I think the other has gone for reinforcements,” announced a man at the door, as he peered through the small barred window near the top of the door. “No, wait. He’s fighting someone. A swordsman.”
One of our archers had made it up the cliffs, then. It was good timing. We needed the distraction.
Unlocking the prisoners was time-consuming work. When another swordsman joined the first, engaging the second guard, the freed prisoners began to sneak out through the door and scramble down the steep hillside toward the riverbank, where Ella and her men had instructed them to meet the approaching barges.
All the rest of the keys were dispensed among the remaining men, so that even the prisoners were unlocking their fellow prisoners. It was an arduous task, and I feared at any moment reinforcements might arrive, or the guards burst in, but after long, tense moments, with the stronger men helping the weak, everyone escaped.
Ella did one last check to be sure everyone was out. Then she, too, fled through the door. “It’s empty,” she told the archers, who still fought with the guards. “Lock the guards inside the dungeon and let’s go!”
The men did so, and joined her at the riverbank just as the first loaded barge departed to row back upstream.
Ella helped the men to board. For a moment it looked as though everyone would make it, with no more trouble than that, but the cliffside echoed with the twang of many bowstrings, giving Ella and her men just enough warning to raise their shields over the men.
Ella had been helping a weakened prisoner, and she nearly shoved him aboard before running to her brother’s side.
“Are you all right?” she asked, using her shield to cover them both as another flurry of arrows rained down on them.
“I’m hit in one foot, but we’re near the limit of their range, so it barely grazed me. Otherwise I’m fine,” Bertie assured her. “Nearly everyone’s loaded now. Let’s push off!”
Indeed, the first wave of arrows had sent men diving headlong into the boats. Ella made sure her brother was aboard before digging her feet into the mud and giving the barge a hearty shove.
The boat sat low in the sticky mud of the bank, heavy laden with the sudden influx of passengers. It didn’t want to move.
Dominic jumped back out and joined her, grunting and shoving as the craft gave way.
The current caught it even as Ella raised her shield to block the next volley of arrows from striking Dominic as he dived back into the boat.
The rowers were ready with their oars, and plowed through the water, so that Ella had to wade in nearly waist deep before the men pulled her aboard.
There was a break in the shooting as the archers scrambled down the hillside in an attempt to keep the boats in range.
Ella took up a position near the rear of the boat, blocking the arrows that began to strike them from behind. But they were nearly at the limits of the archers range already, and soon every arrow fell short.
“They can’t come after us, not without boats of their own.” Bertie panted beside her. “The nearest bridge is at Pressburg. That’s ten minutes away at a run.”
“Less than five at a gallop,” Ella noted, turning to assess whether any of the rowers needed help. The men were pulling hard, rowing against the current, and half of those at the oars were freed prisoners.
Still, their first barge made landfall and the men began to pour out, ready to help pull the next boat ashore.
Bertie’s comment was a reminder that Henry and his men should be on their way back shortly…assuming their mission had been successful. Once the horses were hitched to the carts, they would be able to complete the relatively short trip across the bridge and down the road without much difficulty.
But the fact that Ella and her men had seen so few soldiers likely meant they were all stationed at the garrison at Pressburg—and would be easily dispatched to deal with Henry and his men.
“Dominic,” Ella called, approaching the able leader. “I’m going to leave you in charge here and take a few men toward the bridge to Pressburg. I’ll see what’s keeping Henry’s team.”
Dominic agreed, and Ella quickly assembled archers and swordsmen to accompany her. They ran toward the road and bridge.
The sun, as predicted, was starting to rise, painting the eastern sky a rosy pink. The sight of it filled Ella’s heart with hope even as she worried about what had become of Henry and his men.
The road was rimmed by trees on either side, so that Ella couldn’t see anything of what they were approaching until they reached the road itself. Once they made it to the path, their view was clear across the bridge and into the city. They could hear a clatter and ruckus somewhere in the distance ahead, but the sound was coming from too far away for them to make out anything distinct.
A streak of fire shot through the sky far ahead.
“Was that a flaming arrow?” One of the archers asked.
Pernicious pyrotechnics! Of course, those who didn’t want the merchant carts to reach their destination would sooner burn their entire contents than let them get away.
“Let’s see what we can do to stop them,” Ella insisted, charging ahead. “But try to stay out of sight once we reach the village. It may help if they don’t realize we’re coming.”
They sprinted across the bridge, then ducked behind the first couple of buildings they reached, with half of Ella’s team on either side of the street. They peered out past the building and saw horse-drawn carts struggling to make headway toward the bridge, while cavalrymen with swords and lances tried to knock their drivers from their seats.
Ella’s archers took aim. “Careful you don’t hit any of our men,” she told them.
Not that she needed to. She’d selected men with accurate shooting records. Though the horsemen far ahead were moving targets, they managed to graze two of them and startle the rest, so that they pa
used in their attack.
The drivers took advantage of the distraction to urge their startled horses forward. The frightened animals surged ahead, racing toward the bridge.
More carts and horses followed.
Three of Ella’s archers ran alongside the buildings for a closer position. Ella stood watch, scanning each cart as it went by, looking for Henry.
There was chaos in the streets as the carts thundered forward. Ella’s archers took care to pick off the men with the flaming arrows. One cart had been hit, but the driver drove it down to the river, and the men doused the flames with water, putting them out before they ever burned through the outer boards.
Once by one, the carts fled across the bridge, until there was nothing but a herd of horses left. Riders sat bareback on a few steeds at the rear. Ella waved at her archers to catch horses as they came past. Once each of them was successfully mounted, she looked around for a horse of her own, and finally spotted Henry atop an Arabian, one of her mother’s horses.
She ran toward him. Another of their horses ran next to the first, and Ella vaulted onto its back before urging it on toward the bridge.
“The cavalry’s behind us,” Henry informed her as they thundered across the bridge. “Let’s lead them away from the carts and our men at the riverbank, if we can.”
Ella instantly saw the wisdom in his plan. Though the floodplain was level, the trees along the road blocked most of the view in the direction the carts had fled, save for the patchy open places the carts had squeezed through to leave the road.
“How many men are they?” Ella asked.
“On horseback? Not as many as you might think. We may have stolen most of their horses along with ours. It’s so difficult telling one horse from another in the darkness.”
“Completely understandable,” Ella agreed. She looked back as they tore down the road.
Sure enough, men on horseback approached at a thunderous pace. But instead of following Henry, Ella, and the handful of riderless horses that accompanied them, they turned at the rut-marks left by the carts in the fields.