Dawn of Empire es-1

by Sam Barone

  Are my sons still alive?”

  “Narquil was wounded in the arm and I sent him to the women. He’ll fight no more today. I haven’t seen Mitrac.” Esk kar started to move away, then turned back to the master archer. “Narquil said the same thing, that they were running out of arrows. One of the arrows that wounded him was one of ours. Does that mean anything?”

  Totomes grimaced at the news of his son’s wounding. “Our arrows are heavier than theirs, and longer. If they shoot them at us, they risk breaking their bows, or not shooting them full strength. That means they’ll fire more slowly as well. Now let me get back to my work. I’ve killed two clan leaders already and there are more out there.” He strung another shaft to his bowstring while they spoke. Now he rose up, aimed, and loosed in one easy motion.

  Cursing the gods in frustration, Esk kar started back down the steps, pushing past a woman carrying a sack of arrows up to the men. At least his soldiers would have no shortage of missiles today. Out of the tower and back at the gate, he heard axes ringing against the structure. Looking up, he saw Grond hurling stones over the top of the gate.

  Men scrambled up the steps, carrying baskets of stones, but the defenders dropped them over the top faster than they could be resupplied.

  Men passed baskets from hand to hand to make sure they covered the entire section of the gate. Esk kar started up the steps, then stopped when he heard his name called. He turned back to find Gatus running toward him, blood on his hand and a cut across his cheek.

  “Esk kar! The barbarians crossed the ditch on the south wall and nearly carried the wall. Bantor went there with the last of the villagers, when there were no other soldiers to move up in support.”

  Esk kar could do nothing about the other walls. The villagers would have to keep the attackers at bay. “I need more men here, Gatus, and now.”

  Pointing up at the gate, Esk kar saw only a few men hurling rocks and firing arrows. “Otherwise they’ll be coming through soon enough.” The gate’s big timbers had begun to shake under the axe blows.

  Gatus coolly appraised the gate. Alcinor’s workers swarmed everywhere, carrying heavy planks to reinforce its base. “The gate will last a little longer. I’ll find you more men.”

  Esk kar swore again and ran toward the steps, pausing only to take a basket of stones away from a woman who could scarcely manage the load. He grunted under the weight and ducked beneath the slits until he reached Grond’s side. The big man picked up two stones, one in each hand, then positioned himself directly over the pounding before he flung the missiles over the edge. Esk kar stayed on his knees, handing Grond the three remaining stones, one at a time. When they were gone, Esk kar tossed the empty basket to the ground and shouted for more.

  A bowman at the slit beside him gave a strangled gasp as an arrow pierced his throat. Esk kar grabbed the bow from the man’s hands, then pushed the dying man off the parapet. Notching a shaft, he went to the slit, as another arrow flew through it. The attackers had grown bolder.

  They had discovered that the safest place was directly under the wall, and many had positioned themselves there, shafts ready to fire at any target that showed.

  Peering through the slit at the sharpest angle he could manage, Esk kar saw an Alur Meriki archer in the ditch and let fly. The arrow feathered itself in the man’s chest.

  Esk kar’s action drew a flurry of arrows and another hissed through the slit, narrowly missing him. Still, he had the helmet and collar for protection, and he needed to stop the barbarians now. Esk kar shoved the bow into the slit for a moment then ducked back, letting another flight of arrows come at him. Then he moved up while they were notching their shafts and again sent an arrow into an Alur Meriki archer.

  Ducking back again he took a quick glance toward the ditch and saw that a third wagon had been pushed to the edge. Warriors now carried burning fagots and torches onto the platform. They had their own jars of oil. They’d stuff the burning wood into the holes the axe men had created, douse everything with oil, and try to fire the gate. And the defenders had no more oil to oppose them.

  Grond reappeared with another basket of rocks. Two bodyguards came behind him, carrying more. The gate shuddered continually under the axes, the sounds of splintering wood carrying over the frantic shouts of the defenders. “There’s a group of bowmen right below us. Let’s feed them some stones.”

  Grond nodded and pulled the bodyguards into position on each side of him. Then the three men began tossing the rocks in unison over the edge. As soon as they started, Esk kar moved to a slit and shot another arrow, cursing as his intended target moved back, the shaft disappearing harmlessly in the mud. In the same instant he saw another warrior struck in the shoulder by a stone. The man screamed in pain and dropped the shield he’d held over his head. Nevertheless, more barbarians moved into the ditch, carrying bundles of wood and straw, as well as pots that surely contained oil.

  Esk kar, Grond, and the others fought like demons, while the brutal fighting raged all around them. Stones provided the main weapon for the defenders now, the gate’s archers almost useless now, afraid to lean out or even use the arrow slits. Too many enemy archers, bows drawn, waited for any movement, most of them protected by shields. The barbarians still hacked away at the gate, taking losses but maintaining their stubborn attack. The continuous pounding shook the structure.

  A shout behind him made Esk kar turn around. Corio and Alcinor had returned with a crowd of villagers carrying the last of the stones. Forming lines, villagers passed the rocks to the top of the gate as fast as they could. Under the parapet, carpenters continued to reinforce the base of the structure. Suddenly the ringing of the axes ceased. Esk kar risked a peek through the slit.

  The axe men were racing away, back to the safety of the wagons, their task done for the moment. Others ran forward to replace them. These warriors carried large bundles of dry grass they placed against the gate. The barbarians had chopped and shattered much of the gate’s bottom and now stuffed bundles of oil — soaked straw and wood into the openings. Esk kar saw a dozen men with torches race across the platform before hurling their torches. The gate ignited in a whoosh of flames.

  The defenders kept hurling rocks and water over the gate. Esk kar leaned back and looked across the ditch. Arrows coated all the carts, and new shafts kept striking at the mass of men huddled behind them, aimed at any warrior who exposed himself. Orak’s archers were slowly stopping the bowmen behind the ditch. Totomes had been right. They were winning the archery battle. If only they had enough time.

  Esk kar looked down behind him. At the base of the gate, a thick plume of smoke already curled underneath, carrying the stink of burning oil with it.

  Everyone screamed for water. Men and women alike passed buckets to the top of the gate. Every available villager, even children, had come there, drawing water from the wells, then passing the buckets hand to hand to the men on the walls. Others continued to carry stones and arrows to the wall’s defenders.

  It had become a race between the fire at the gate’s base and the water that poured over its top. Others hurled water at the gate’s bottom, at any place that looked likely to burn through. Esk kar glimpsed Trella among them, keeping the villagers in order and directing them where they would do the most good.

  Esk kar gazed along the parapet. “Grond, these men are exhausted. I’ll send fresh men up and you move these men down, or they’ll be too tired to fight.” He swung down again to the ground.

  Someone shouted his name. Esk kar saw Alexar running toward him with archers taken from the other walls, ten men in all. “Replace the men on the top of the gate. They’ll be needed soon to use the stones as well.”

  Alexar nodded and moved off, shouting orders, and Esk kar moved to the base of the gate. Esk kar laid his hand on the structure, but felt nothing.

  The fire roared louder now, and he saw thick, greasy smoke flowing over the top. The shimmering flames leapt higher than the gate.

  Grond remained o
n the top, making sure the men kept tossing stones, while on the lower parapet men risked arrows to hurl water through the arrow slits. Nevertheless the oil — soaked wood continued to burn, and the Alur Meriki kept bringing up more and more bundles of dry grass to feed the burning gate.

  Esk kar watched as the flames steadily ate away at the gate’s beams.

  But no villagers left their labors and more men and women kept coming, carrying anything that could be used as a weapon. Despite the confusion, everyone was doing their duty.

  He saw a break in the line of men carrying water up to the parapet.

  Grasping a bucket, Esk kar carried it to the upper parapet, then poured it over the side where Grond pointed. Another voice shouted for Esk kar’s attention. He looked over to see Sisuthros standing at the back of the south tower.

  “Captain, they’re massing their warriors,” Sisuthros shouted, cupping his hands to make sure his voice carried. “They’re bringing up a ram, getting ready to attack.”

  Esk kar wiped sweat from his brow and took a look, keeping his head back far enough so that the bowmen below couldn’t see him. He studied the men moving into position. Something looked different. Esk kar moved his head a little higher, then dropped down as an arrow snapped through the slit and glanced off his helmet.

  “Grond, I need to see this.” Esk kar snatched up a shield and raised it over the gate, holding it an inch or two above the top, ignoring the arrows that thudded into it. Behind the shield, he rose almost to his full height.

  The barbarians were massing across the ditch, forming a V- shaped line of shields and wagons that curved slightly away from the ditch. The Alur Meriki had concentrated their fighters here, drawing most of their warriors away from the other walls and focusing their attention on the gate.

  The attackers were betting all on breaking through here.

  Sisuthros joined him. “I’ve ordered every man I could from the rest of the walls,” he gasped, “and told Maldar and the others to do the same.”

  Esk kar noticed fresh soldiers arriving on the parapet, each one carrying a basket of stones in addition to his bow.

  “Keep the towers at full strength. Have them start killing the warriors at the base of the gate, even if they have to lean out to do it. We’ve got to drive them away from the gate!”

  Raising his voice, Esk kar shouted to the defenders. “Hold fast! More soldiers are coming. And the barbarians are weakening!”

  A few cheered but most just looked at him, exhaustion and despair in their faces. But no one stopped working and then, as bowmen began arriving, they appeared to take heart.

  Esk kar climbed down to the first parapet, creaking and swaying even more ominously as the ropes continued to stretch. A great shout came from outside the gate. After a quick look, Esk kar ducked his head back. For once, no arrows flew in through the slit, though he heard at least one strike the gate nearby. Orak’s archers were taking their toll. But a mass of barbarians, at least sixty or seventy warriors, had moved forward into the ditch, carrying with them a great ram made from a huge tree trunk. The ram swayed beneath a wooden frame, suspended by a mass of ropes. Warriors carrying shields held high protected those who bore the burden, and the ram reached the base of the gate without falling to the earth. Soon it would begin hammering the structure where the fire had done the most damage.

  The fire — weakened wood couldn’t take too many blows from something that size. A renewed storm of Alur Meriki arrows flew at any target that exposed itself, as the attackers tried to protect the warriors carrying the ram.

  The sound of hammering made him look down. At least twenty villagers labored there. Men with mauls nailed a notched plank into position.

  Others, struggling under the weight of a beam, moved forward to angle the log into the notch. Carpenters immediately began hammering it home, fastening the beam to the plank. Everyone ignored the thick black smoke curling around their feet, though many began coughing, choking on the stench of the burning oil.

  Suddenly the gate shook as if a mighty fist had struck it. Two men cried out as they lost their balance and toppled backward from the upper parapet. Esk kar might have followed but for Grond’s huge hand, covered in blood, that reached over and grasped him. Esk kar had barely recovered before another blow struck the gate.

  Risking another glance through the slit, Esk kar saw a near — solid wall of shields protecting those manning the ram. The attackers might be taking terrible losses, but they fought on. He hadn’t killed enough to make them lose hope, give up, before they broke through.

  The gate reeled again, this time accompanied by the sound of splintering wood. Villagers screamed at each other to hurry.

  “Do what you can here, Grond, but don’t stay too long. Be off the parapet before it falls. The gate’s going to be forced. I’m going down to get the men ready.” Once again, Esk kar swung off the parapet, holding for a moment until he could drop all the way to the ground. He landed heavily enough to fall to his knees.

  Getting to his feet he stared at the base of the gate. The ram was breaking through. The heavy beam, hammered in place on the left side of the gate only moments ago, had already been knocked out of position, and the ram’s head had crashed through part of the planking that supported it.

  Maldar ran up, with another half — dozen men, bows in hand.

  “Form a line here, Maldar,” Esk kar ordered.

  The gate shuddered again. A section of the lower parapet gave way, sending men scrambling to avoid its imminent collapse. Esk kar studied the gate, watching it vibrate every few moments as the ram struck again and again in a powerful rhythm. The leftmost portion looked weakest, but the right side stood mostly intact, its main brace firmly in position.

  Corio, his eyes streaming from the smoke, tripped over the fallen beam.

  Esk kar seized his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Corio, brace the upper parapet before it collapses, too, or we’ll have no men manning the slits.

  See if you can keep it in place, even if they break through underneath.

  Hurry!”

  Esk kar gave the man no time to reply, just shoved him on his way. Another file of five soldiers arrived, and Esk kar called them to him, shouting for shields. Grond came scrambling down from the upper parapet with two of Esk kar’s original bodyguards.

  Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, Esk kar turned to his men. “Give your bows to the villagers and find shields. We’ll need swords and spears for this work.”

  Grond pointed the two guards toward weapons stored against the nearest house. They returned in moments, carrying four shields.

  Esk kar looked back at the gate. The left side of the once — solid gate had splintered badly. The giant logs, weakened by axe and fire, trembled and shook from the ram’s mighty blows. A glance at the towers and walls on each side showed them crowded with archers desperately trying to stop the rammers.

  They would be too late. The Alur Meriki were going to open a breach.

  But it might not be a large opening, and maybe it could be held. As he watched, the leftmost side of the lower parapet swung down with a screech of nails and snapping of ropes, accompanied by the shouts of men who jumped or tumbled to the ground. It collapsed slowly and dropped directly in front of the opening. The same blow pitched two men off the upper platform as it swayed precariously from its ropes. That platform still held, though it shook and rattled under each blow of the ram.

  The ram crashed against the gate once again and this time its fire hardened tip penetrated the wooden structure. As the ram’s head withdrew, some of the archers fired at the opening, and Esk kar heard a scream from the other side.

  “Keep shooting,” he ordered, moving well away from the gap as the archers loosed a volley, a few shafts going through the narrow, jagged opening. Then the ram, repositioned slightly, smashed into the next set of vertical logs. Four more times the ram struck before another log snapped in two.

  The ramming stopped for a moment, as warriors with axes pri
ed at the weakened logs. Then the ram began its hammering again. It took less than a dozen strokes before another pair of logs gave way. The din increased, as more axes hammered at the loosened logs, widening the aperture. A warrior tried to climb through the breach and was riddled with arrows that knocked him backward from sheer force of impact.

  Esk kar gripped his shield and drew his sword, then turned to Grond and the bodyguards. “We have to stop them here. They can’t be allowed past the gate!” He grabbed the nearest bodyguard and shouted in his ear.

  “Make sure the archers hold their fire when we move to the breach. Go!”

  The man nodded and raced back to the line of archers, who stayed in their rough line, still loosening their arrows at the opening. Alur Meriki shields appeared, pushed through the breach, protecting the attackers massing behind them. Esk kar and Grond gave out mighty shouts and rushed toward the gap.

  The attackers shoved their way through the narrow opening, crouching low and using their shields to avoid the defenders’ arrows. Rushing forward, Esk kar had no time to worry about an arrow in his back from his own men.

  Raising his shield to his eyes, he took four quick steps and crashed against the shield of the first Alur Meriki warrior. Caught off balance, the man reacted slowly, stumbling in the jumble of beams and splinters, and Esk kar took a half — step back and swung the great sword down on the warrior’s head.

  Again Esk kar lowered his shoulder behind his shield and shoved with all his might, pushing the dead body into the man behind him.

  Battle fury took all of them, as Esk kar, Grond, and four soldiers formed a half — circle around the breach and defended it with a ferocity that surprised the attackers. The defenders were fresher, while the attackers had been working the ram or ducking arrows in the hot sun without water for nearly two hours.

  The first wave of Alur Meriki fell back, driven by the vicious blows of Esk kar and his companions. But as the defenders exulted, a second horde of screaming attackers, seeing victory within their grasp, fought their way through the opening, a gap that grew wider as the enemy outside kept hammering away with their axes.