Exiles of Forlorn

by Sean T. Poindexter

  I didn’t have to wave the flag for the archers to change their targets, they knew enough from seeing the artillery position shift. Following Reiwyn’s lead, they raised their aim and fired in a higher arc, bringing the shower of arrows down tighter to the wall. The Scumdogs were ready that time, and most of the arrows thudded against thick wooden tower shields that looked like they were made from ship lumber.

  I ducked under a volley of Scumdog arrows and bolts. Beyond me in the colony I heard screams as a few archers took hits. I saw Gargath charge fearlessly through the rain of arrows to aid the fallen. I looked at Front-Strider, who’d just reloaded his crossbow and was getting ready to jump up and fire. I shook my head at him. “The rocks!”

  “Rocks!” he shouted. They abandoned their espringals and grabbed oblong rocks from the piles stacked against the wall. They threw them over the side, and we heard men scream below as they fell, crushing shields, bones and skulls. “Again!” he cried, and they grabbed more rocks and tossed them over the side. Bolts screamed through the air and took some of them down, but most were able to get out of the way in time.

  The onagers groaned and fired. The rocks went wide, barreling through the ranks of the Scumdog archers. By now they’d learned the trajectory of these things, and had mostly cleared trenches where the rocks would land. They took some casualties as the rocks bounced along the ground, but nowhere near as many as the first volleys. I waved the red flag in a cross motion, signaling for Friyesse to turn them so as to change their attack path. She waved back and Antioc and his troops jumped into action.

  Volleys of arrows were exchanged, theirs then ours, then theirs again. The shields were almost negating our shots. That was when they started augmenting their volleys with a few flaming arrows. Most of them struck dirt, but the ones that didn’t hit the thatched roofs of our yurts. I’d anticipated that, and gave a cry for Horvis, who nodded and ordered his troops into action. They ran forward with buckets of water. They extinguished most of the arrows, but a few took hold of the buildings they’d struck and sent them up in whoosh of flame.

  I felt the wall shake. I looked through a slit in the wall toward the gate and saw a collection of Scumdogs forming a tortoise with their shields around it. Under them, a great iron-shod ram rolled forth on carved wooden wheels and slammed into the gate, shaking the wall beneath us. Our men threw rocks and fired crossbows down on them, but they weren’t able to penetrate the shell of shields. I grinned and ran, crouched behind the wall, to the edge of the pillars that flanked the gate.

  “Release the wolf grate!” I shouted down at the men on either side. They nodded and grabbed the levers that held the drawing wheels in place. They locked eyes and counted . . . one . . . two . . . three, pull. The top grate swung on the joint in the middle, bringing it down like the jaw of a wolf on the men below. Even their shields couldn’t protect them as it crushed two dozen of them between the spikes of the top and bottom grates. Once its bloody errand was complete, the gate men grabbed the wheels and began winding the top back into place, like a book opening. This time, it was soaked with red, with a couple of bodies stuck in the spikes as it clanked along.

  I laughed and slapped a random soldier’s back. “Get it? That’s why they call it a wolf grate!” I made a motion like closing jaws with my hands, but he didn’t seem all that impressed.

  The onagers fired again, this time crushing a few dozen more archers before barreling into the darkness beyond Uller’s light. Reiwyn’s archers loosed, filling the Scumdog’s shields with arrows. Rocks flew over the side of the wall, landing with crushing blows. Another volley of flaming arrows followed, sending the ground troops scrambling to deal with the fallout. I knew somewhere in the colony, Antioc was aching for the fight to come to him, but it was my job to make sure that didn’t happen for as long as possible.

  I grabbed the blue flag and waved it in a cross formation. Claster waved back and ordered the archers to shoot farther. We needed to deal with their archers before they brought down the whole colony with fire. My onagers weren’t going to do it. Reiwyn nodded at Claster’s command, and her archers adjusted their bows and let a volley fly. It streaked through the night and showered the ground, falling short of their archers. I waved the flag again to let them know, and they adjusted their aim again. That time, the volley struck true, landing in the throngs of their archers, ripping through flesh as men screamed and fell. I waved the flag side to the side, letting them know they’d hit their mark and could fire at will. They obliged, and arrows whistled through the air over the wall again.

  I heard Uller groan. He was straining, the tears from his eyes now joined by blood from his nose. I ran to his side, head down below the wall. Blackfoot was there already, stroking his back. “You’re doing it, Uller,” he said, nodding. “You’re doing it. You’re saving lives.”

  I nodded in agreement. Uller tightened his resolve, but still I saw it wearing on him. I grabbed a cloth from my belt and wiped the blood from his face. His cheeks were trembling. “Just a little longer,” I encouraged. “Just a little longer.”

  In the darkness beyond their archers, I heard another command come up from Burlone. I couldn’t make it out, but I knew what it was the minute the men at the wall turned and ran. He’d ordered a retreat. I turned to give the order to Front-Strider, but he was already on it. He shouted for his men to return to the espringals, which they did, loading them and firing at the retreating line. I lifted the red flag to halt the artillery, dropping it when the Scumdogs crossed the line of fire. They unleashed another volley of rocks, which crashed through them like they were made of straw, leaving bloody red paths along the field.

  Another flaming volley from their archers filled the colony. One of the arrows grazed my shoulder, cutting as it passed. I was too excited to cry; I barely even acknowledged it as blood streamed down my arm. Another volley of spears from the espringals was loosed, but it fell short of the retreating Scumdogs. Even Reiwyn’s archers couldn’t touch them now.

  I put my hand on Uller’s shoulder. “It’s fair, friend,” I said, and he collapsed to his knees. The light in the sky dimmed to nothing, replaced by the glow of fires throughout the colony. Reiwyn’s archers put away their bows and turned their attention to helping Horvis’ ground crews carry buckets of water and bags of dirt to extinguish the flames.

  Uller’s blood mixed with mine on the wall as we looked into each other’s eyes. His were bloodshot, full of tears from the strain. I lifted my wounded arm and put my hand on his shoulder. “You were amazing, Uller.”

  “Of course I was.” He grinned. I grinned back.

  31.

  “They’ll be back,” I said as Gargath bandaged my arm. Claster and Horvis nodded to Arn.

  “When?” Arn asked.

  “They’ll attack at first light, now that they know they have no advantage in darkness.”

  “So soon?” asked Zin. She sat in the corner of Arn’s yurt with Uller’s head in her lap. She pressed a bag full of healing herbs to his forehead as he took deep breaths.

  I nodded. “The first attack was a test. They wanted to see what we could do. Now they know, and they’ll be ready.”

  Antioc added, “Burlone will know we’re exhausted from the fight, and from putting out the flames they left us with. He’ll attack with fresh troops, with the sun at their backs, while the first wave rests and prepares for another attack.”

  Horvis added, “And they will continue like that until we’ve given up or the wall comes down.”

  Arn clapped his hand on my shoulder. “The gate held,” he said with a grin.

  I grinned back. “Of course it held.”

  He looked at the bandages on my shoulder. “How’s the arm?” So far I was the only one of my little circle of friends to be injured. I doubted I would be the last.

  “I think we managed to save it,” joked Gargath. It was strangely reassuring that the Volteri’s sense of humor was as morbid as everything else about him.

  We returned to our
posts to await the dawn. As the sun rose, I looked out over the wall at the field of the dead. I counted at least a hundred at the base of the wall, and almost as many scattered out across the field. There may have been a few more under the piles. The Scumdogs certainly weren’t sentimental about their dead. I looked back at our own numbers. They’d shrunk little, maybe two dozen wounded and half as many dead, but we were still outnumbered. I took a deep breath and looked back out over the wall just in time to see the Scumdogs returning.

  This time they were more cautious, forming a shell of shields to protect their archers from our volleys. When the shields came back, their archers came forth and loosed a volley of flaming arrows. At this range, most of them struck the wall, but that forced us to divert attention to extinguishing the flames, lest a section of the wall catch fire and weaken. The espringals were able to penetrate their shields, but our teams were quickly running out of spears to load them with. After each volley, the archers ran back under the shields and their line advanced.

  After the first round of hurled stones from the onagers crushed three bloody paths thought their lines, the Scumdogs split along the stone’s path. I waved the flag to adjust the aim, but they’d spread out enough that the subsequent volley landed on empty earth. Kane must have calculated the arc of my artillery and told the squads to space accordingly. I could send Blackfoot running with new coordinates, but by the time they reached them the line would have advanced and they’d fire too wide.

  I waved the flag for Friyesse to cease firing. She waved the flag back to signal she understood. I found Blackfoot on the ground below and got his attention. “Tell Friyesse to roll back twenty strides and hold fire until I give the signal.” Blackfoot nodded and ran between barrages of flaming arrows. He gave the order, and she looked up at me. Even from that distance, I could see the shock in her eyes. It was a risky move, pushing the onagers that far back, but I trusted my work; the stones wouldn’t fall short. If they did, though, they’d bring down the wall.

  Flaming arrows streamed overhead, coming down on our archers and the troops running to put out the flames. I felt their heat as the fires grew close to getting out of control. Screams came up from the colony as another volley rained down. The espringals groaned and twanged as they loosed another barrage of their ever dwindling supply of stone-tipped spears. The Scumdog losses were much milder this time. I met eyes with Arn, who’d taken a position on the wall with a crossbow. They were a more disciplined force than we had imagined.

  The next volley was aimed at the top of the wall. The men ducked, but several were too slow and took arrows. One screamed and fell off the back of the wall, crashing to the ground. Gargath ran to him. I saw him check his neck, then look up at us and shake his head. Several more were on their knees, splattering the walkway with their blood. We were running short of reserves. Front-Strider ordered three of his crews to consolidate their ammunition with the other three stations, as that was all the men we had left on the wall able to operate them. The rest fired crossbows and longbows down on the line along with Arn.

  That was when the line stopped. It split in the middle and a wheeled cart with an arrow shield over the sides and top came rolling out, pushed by Noosh and a team of no less than seven men, four on each side. Through an open seam I spotted a great clay pot. My eyes widened as I pointed at it. Arn and Front-Strider were well ahead of me, concentrating their fire on it as it advanced. The Scumdogs ducked behind the shields between each volley, leaving arrows and bolts stuck in the wood like porcupine quills. It did little to slow their advance.

  I grabbed the ladder and crawled halfway down before dropping. I shouted for Antioc, who ran up with seven of his Wrecking Crew, Sharkhart, and Claster in tow. “You have to stop that cart,” I said as I gestured for the men to raise the gate. Antioc nodded and started giving orders to his men. Front-Strider looked over the edge of the wall. “Take the shots if you’ve got them, but be mindful of our own.”

  “I’m coming.” Arn headed for a ladder.

  “No!” Claster waved him back and joined Sharkhart and Antioc. “It’s too dangerous.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he fell back. I pulled my key out of my shirt and shoved it in the hole, turning it, and the pin dropped out the bottom. With the latches pulled back, the gate swung open. Antioc and the others charged through, weapons up, screaming like madmen.

  I stood at the gate and watched them go. The men behind the cart came out to meet them, weapons in hand. Antioc rolled under a hatchet swing from one and spun around, bringing the stone-head of his maul around until it struck the Scumdog in the spine. His enemy fell as he moved on to the next one. Steel met stone, and Sharkhart’s whip lashed around the neck of one of them. When he pulled it, the sharp teeth cut into his enemy’s filthy neck and separated his head from his body.

  One of ours fell before Noosh, his neck crushed after a powerful blow from the gigantic Umbrishman’s fists. Another one of ours challenged him, only to meet a similar fate as he brought his chain-wrapped knuckles up and crushed his face. That was when Antioc and Sharkhart exchanged quick looks and moved in to challenge the giant while the rest of their men faced off against the remaining Scumdogs.

  Antioc went high with his maul while the savage swung low with his whip. The spiked coils wrapped his big leg as Noosh moved with surprising alacrity under Antioc’s attack. His fists came back, and he struck Antioc across the shoulder, knocking him off balance. Sharkhart jerked on his whip, but wasn’t strong enough to bring the giant down. The best he could do was tear into his flesh, splattering his leg with blood as the whip came back. Another lash came, this one aimed at his neck. Noosh grabbed the whip and jerked it out of Sharkhart’s hand.

  Arn and Front-Strider put two projectiles in Noosh from the wall, one into each shoulder, but that didn’t slow him. He punched Antioc in the stomach, sending him to his knees. I screamed as he raised his fist above Antioc. Claster charged in and dove into Antioc, knocking him away as Noosh brought his fist down like a hammer on empty air.

  Off balance now, he was vulnerable to another attack from Sharkhart, this time with his dagger. He moved in fast, leaving three quick cuts in the giant’s arms. Noosh swung his fists, missing with the first blow but managing to take him across the jaw with the other. Sharkhart rolled with the blow, flipping backward and landing several feet away, spitting blood.

  Antioc rolled in close and slammed his maul into Noosh’s leg. The giant staggered back, but laughed and brought up his fists in defense. I noticed archers break with the line, bringing their bows and crossbows down and aiming at our men. I shouted up the wall at Arn and Front-Strider. They noticed right away and directed the archers on the wall to take aim. The Scumdogs managed to get off a volley before ours, taking down three of our men, grazing Sharkhart’s chest, and almost hitting Antioc. A quick attack from five of the archers on the wall took down all but one of them, who drew an arrow and took careful aim at Antioc.

  “Look out!” I shouted, but there was no way he could hear me over the screams of battle. The archer was about to loose when an arrow streaked past me and took him in the chest. I turned and saw Reiwyn a few strides behind me, the string of her bow still humming. I smiled and raised my hand to her as she readied another arrow.

  Antioc spun around and landed the head of his maul on Noosh’s chest, staggering him back. He swung again, missing but forcing the Umbrishman to back up. Again he swung, faster than before, and the giant stepped back. Our archers continued releasing volleys, forcing the line to hide behind their shields rather than assault our troops with their arrows. A few broke ranks and ran forward to challenge our men. They were met by Claster and the four surviving members of Antioc’s Wrecking Crew.

  Antioc swung again, pushing Noosh back toward the cart. Sharkhart had reclaimed his whip and was landing brutal lashes that would have crippled or killed a lesser man. Claster was busy fighting with another Scumdog, parrying with his blade. He’d been trained to fence like most nobles, and his style was a gr
aceful counter to the Scumdog’s vicious, thoughtless fury. He finally slipped under the Scumdog’s defense and landed a cut to his side, slowing but not stopping him.

  Noosh wasn’t going to go down by normal means. He would kill Antioc, maybe Sharkhart, and without them we had no chance of holding once the wall was breeched. I looked at the cart and hit upon and idea. I ran to Reiwyn. “Ready a burning arrow,” I said. She looked confused, but obliged, drawing one of the oil-rag-wrapped arrows from her quiver and lighting it with her sparking stones as I ran out the gate. I almost tripped over a couple of bodies as I ran, and was panting when I reach the cart.

  Claster had just finished off his enemy when I ushered him to help me tip over the pot. It rolled on its side, and the top popped off as oil spilled out, splattering on Noosh and pooling around his feet. “Get back!” I shouted. Antioc and Sharkhart obeyed. I waved at Reiwyn and ducked as her arrow zipped over my head. It hit Noosh in the chest, but it wasn’t the arrow that spelled his end. The oil ignited, cloaking his screaming form in flames as he ran back toward the Scumdog line.

  “Back to the gate,” ordered Claster, our work complete. A few Scumdog archers managed to loose some arrows our way as we charged back to the colony. One of Antioc’s crew fell with an arrow in his back. A female fighter took one to the back of the leg, but Antioc grabbed her around the waist and helped her through the gate. Once clear of it, the bottom grate crashed into place. Sharkhart and I slammed the gate shut, latched it, and I dropped in the pin.

  Gargath and Hratoe ran to us to check our wounded. Gargath took over care of the wounded female while Blackfoot appeared with an arm full of water skins. We grabbed them after catching our breath and poured water down our throats.

  Antioc walked to Claster. “You saved my life.”

  Claster shrugged. “I figured I owed you one.”

  Antioc laughed and clapped him on the arm. Claster laughed too.