by Guy Antibes
“Lisha, could Analea know some secret? Something about Obridge?” She was in the edge of panic as she went over and over the strategy in her mind. Where would the rebels break through? She thought they surely would. Sara worried most about the blood that could stain the streets of Obridge.
Klark rose to his feet. “I’ll have men search every building in the city.”
Sara watched him leave. Their relationship would be over if one of them were killed. She didn’t want that to happen, but the siege would end by tomorrow morning one way or another.
“You don’t want him killed do you?” Willa said.
“Of course not! I don’t want anyone killed. But we all have to fight.” Sara worried about Klark’s safety.
“I have to leave and find a proper spear. I know were there are a few left in the College. We’ll all be ready this evening, Sara.” Lisha walked out of the Refectory.
Willa and Sara sat eating their simple fare. “You’ve done well. I’m proud of you and I’m sure your mother would be too.”
“I want to give Duke Northcross the opportunity to be proud of me. But it’s not the accomplishments or accolades that I seek, it’s confirmation from his own lips that he’s my real father. I’m sure he knows, but I want to talk to him about it. That’s my goal. Along with saving all of Shattuk Downs, of course,” she said, giving Willa half of a smile. “That’s a bit delusional, I know, and an overstatement, but I’ll do my part.”
Sara thought of Ben Featherwood and the men from Belting Hollow. She wanted to find them and convince them to leave the Grand Duke’s army and return to the north to keep the peace. She had no other plans than to save Northcross and ensure that Belting Hollow was safe. Her goals were that simple. She would do anything to make that happen.
~
Despite the cold, Sara left her window open a crack. She kept the fire in the huge fireplace of her old room ablaze and ended up sleeping in her clothes. Her weapons were laid out on her desk so she could grab them at a moment’s notice.
She stared up at the fire-shadows playing across her ceiling. Sleep had been elusive. The clock showed a few minutes past two when she heard shouts from the city. She ran to the window as torches and lamps sprung up everywhere in the city. The rebels were in the city’s streets.
~
Sara finished throwing her sword belt over her shoulder when Klark ran in.
“The sewer locks were broken. There are three outlets and the rebels are in the city.”
“Do you have your pistol?” Klark nodded. “Then come with me.” Sara led him down the stairs and into the Precinct.
Boys from the school milled around, not knowing what to do. “Lead them, Klark.” Sara saw Seb and Enos among them, carrying their spears.
Klark began to yell at the older boys to form up and ordered the younger boys into the school. “Lock the doors and windows men! Seb! You’re in charge of securing the school. Hurry!”
Seb began to gather the boys and soon the doors closed to the school. Lamps rushed through the windows pausing at every window. “Good luck,” she said, kissing Klark—perhaps for the last time.
She didn’t stop as the women assembled in the market began their chant. She ran to the River Gate, gathering women about her as they hurried through the street. Clusters of women poked their sticks into the bodies of the rebels. She wouldn’t worry about the streets. Only a few men at a time would be able to crawl through Obridge’s sewers. The city would be saved at the gates. Gateman’s garrison was by the Main Gate, so the sleeping guards would be able to handle any frontal onslaught.
By the time she reached the River Gate, rebels, women and a few local boys lay dead in the street. She heard pounding coming from the gates. A band of rebels attacked her group. Her women warriors began to yell and converge on the men. There were just too many of them for the rebels and the fighting began to slow as the women had fewer enemies to engage. Sarah ran up the stairs and stood above the gate. Fighting had broken out as the rebels had brought a few scaling ladders with them. Her army seemed to be holding their own.
A rebel came up to her. Sarah pulled out her gun and pulled the trigger. The sound stopped the fighting for a moment and then her men began to have the upper hand. She leaned over the gate wall and pulled back when a crossbow bolt whizzed past her. Crossbows lay on the ground around the gate as the fighting had become hand-to-hand. She crouched down and reloaded her gun and then pulled out one of the pipe exploders. She pulled out the wire and pulled a torch from the wall and threw it over the side towards where she thought the battering ram was.
She let her eyes grow accustomed to the darkness again and peeked over the wall to see exactly where the ram was and tossed the exploder towards it. Before she had fully crouched down the exploder shook the wall. She looked down again and examined the damage.
The rebels had moved back. The battering ram had been cut in two with men’s bodies strewn about. Others were moaning as bits of wood from the ram and the pipe had punctured their skin. She spotted Yester holding a torch urging his men on. She pulled out her gun and aimed at him, adjusting for her elevated position. She braced herself and fired.
Smoke filled the air around her and more bolts whizzed past her. A blow to her shoulder spun her around and she nearly fell off the inside rim of the wall, but hung on as the pain bloomed down her arm and into her chest. Sara could only gasp in shock and hurt as she reloaded her gun and put it in a pocket. The bolt hadn’t penetrated her mail shirt, but the pain blurred her vision.
She pulled out her remaining pipe exploder and removed the wire. Crawling to a different spot above the gate, she rose. Yester held the torch kneeling by the man that had been felled by her ball. Most of the men had gathered in the group, perhaps they were waiting for orders. It didn’t matter. With all of her remaining strength, Sara threw the pipe. She looked at it wheel in the darkness, the torches barely lighting up the black pipe. It fell among the group of men and they were thrown back in the explosion. The shards hit Yester and his men. She focused on the remnants of the ram and conjured a ball of flame on the ram. The flames lit up the night.
Sara had been through enough. The fighting stopped along the walls. Youngman ran up to her.
“Countess! You’re hurt!”
“It was hit by a bolt, but it penetrate,” She batted her eyes, trying to focus through the intense pain. Sara took a deep breath. “How goes the fight?”
“We’ve taken care of the rebels.” Men ran past her and picked up the crossbows and began shooting at the rebels below, now illuminated by the burning timbers of the ram. Sara had no desire to see the carnage. “I have details blocking up the sewers with debris and guarding them.”
“That’s what flushing water closets can do to a city,” Sara said, the thought popping into her fuzzy mind. She swayed and felt a smile on her face when she didn’t feel like smiling.
~
Sunlight streamed into her window as Sara rose from her bed. She lay quickly back down as her shoulder complained.
“Rest, Sara,” Willa said. The woman looked ravaged by the events of the night. If Willa looked so haggard, she wondered how badly she looked.
“What’s happened?”
“The Battle of Obridge is over. A crossbow bolt killed Yester. Your exploders took care of fifty of their men. The remaining rebels left before morning.”
“I saw bodies in the streets. How many?”
“So far twenty-two deaths among the women and boys. The rebels were no match for squads of angry women. There are three times as many injured and that includes you. Of our army, we lost another twenty. So we number a bit under two hundred men. Still, it’s a miracle.”
“Does Lisha know who was killed?”
“She’s among the wounded, but will recover more quickly than you. Klark has taken the lead to have lists of the dead and wounded drawn up. Vanna Rider is helping him. Your shoulder appears to be intact, but you have severely bruised your shoulder. I wouldn’t be surpris
ed if there is a fracture in there.”
Sara dreaded reading the names. Some she might know, but most she wouldn’t. Each would leave family behind. She shuddered to think what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been alert during the night.
“My brothers?”
“Are whooping it up. Two of the rebels made it as far as the precinct. A few deep cuts and bruises, but most of those were inflicted by other boys as they cut down the two men.”
Willa rose to respond to a knock on the door. “I heard voices,” Captain Gateway said. He stepped into the room.
“We have everything under control, Sara. More than three hundred rebels were killed or severely wounded last night. The camp is littered with the remains of a hasty retreat, but there couldn’t have been more than a handful left and we captured twelve of them. My men are interrogating them now.”
“I need to go down,” Sara said.
“No you don’t.”
Sara gave Willa back one of her squints. “I’ll take care. I’m only bruised... well maybe bruised and broken, a little. Help me into some clothes.” She looked at the Captain, “If you’ll wait outside.”
The streets were still littered with splotches of blood. The dead were still being collected throughout the city. Sara walked slowly through the streets. Women came up and thanked her for leading them. Sara just smiled and nodded. She didn’t lead them. She saw them go into action all by themselves. They had fought like demons and more than made up for their lack of training.
The rebels weren’t much better soldiers than the miners and her women warriors, but if the women had come up against experienced soldiers… Sara shuddered at the thought of the men who abducted the Duke. The Obridge losses would have been much higher and she had no illusions about the night’s victory, even through it hadn’t come cheaply.
“Countess,” Youngman rushed up to her, “Have you come to inspect the damage?”
“I have. Thank you for carrying me to my room.”
Youngman saluted. “I admit it wasn’t me, but men who were honored to take their wounded leader from the field.”
“Enough of that. I didn’t bleed. Let’s go outside.” Sara walked slowly through the River Gate. The remains of the battering ram still lay where it had been blown up. Huge splinters stuck out from the ends.
“The men have been laid out over here, Countess.”
She gave Youngman an angry look. “I am Sara Featherwood. Call me Sara, please.”
“Yes, Sara. The rebels are laid out around here.”
Rows of bodies had been laid out bunched together shoulder to shoulder. She walked along them, nearly two hundred and fifty. The women of Obridge didn’t let many of the men live. If only Yester had accepted her terms, all of these men would be alive. What a tragedy. Sara spotted Yester’s body. Next to it looked to be the body of a youth.
“Take off that hat, would you Youngman?” She looked at the dirty face of Analea. The wound in her chest told Sara that she had been the torchbearer for her father in the night. Sara’s errant shot had killed the woman. The sight brought tears to Sara’s eyes. She killed both Rester and Analea. If their fanatical leanings hadn’t taken them from Tarrey Abbey, they might have gotten married and raised a family. Now, that would never be.
“Make sure the captives identify the dead as well as let us know who escaped. Without their leaders, they won’t be much of a force for awhile.”
“Yes, Sara.” Youngman said. He nodded at Gateman.
She had seen enough of the rebels. Now she had to deal with her forces. Forty-two of her people had lost their lives last night. The very thought hurt.
“Once they are identified, we will bury the rebels in a field on the other side of the river,” Gateman said. “They will get a communal grave. We have men building coffins for those who died defending the city. They won’t be pretty, but we’ll bury our own in single graves. It’s the least we can do to show our respect.”
Sara had to fight through the sorrow and the guilt. She didn’t want to lead people into battle again. She felt that they had died for her, yet intellectually, she knew otherwise. They fought for Obridge and Shattuk Downs.
Sara spent the rest of the day, consoling the women of the city and congratulating the men. As night fell, she ate her dinner in the Faculty Dining Room at the request of Lisha Temple.
With Sara’s shoulder and Lisha’s arm, they struggled through dinner. Klark came in and joined them, while Willa served them, making sure the staff cooks did a proper job.
“We have all of our people identified. Vanna Rider knew quite a few of them. The women were from all over Obridge. A few boys died alongside their mothers. The rebels killed all of the birds after they found our carts, so we can’t communicate with Parth.” He shook his head. “I hope someone writes a book about the battle.”
Lisha looked at Klark. “I’ll give you a notebook. Go ahead, Klark, you know as much about what happened as anyone. We’ll need an official record, anyway. I’d just as soon one of my former students get the credit.”
Klark turned a little red. “Very well. I suppose we’ll be heading out for Stonebridge in a day or two.”
“Tomorrow,” Sara said. “Gateman found a carriage. Perhaps you can start your notes on our way. Without any way to communicate with Parth, we’ll have to find out what’s happening in Stonebridge and rescue the Duke, if we can. Please ride with me.
“I’ll have breakfast with my brothers and you before we go. I’m sure, under your command, they have lots of stories to tell me.”
Klark sat up straight and saluted. “Anything for my General.”
~~~
Chapter Twenty-One
Encounter at Stonebridge Fields
Leaving Obridge had been a relief. The wounded miners stayed behind with Captain Gateman, but most of the Obridge guard joined her army. She now had fifty women in their own unit who would also support the camp. Sara made sure they all had spears and knives. The women were now seasoned fighters and two of Gateman’s trainers had joined their group to improve the fighting skills of the miners and the women as they marched. Youngman had lost a single soldier and they traveled next to the carriage as Sara’s personal guard.
The snow had changed to rain, turning the parts of the road that weren’t cobbled to mud, slowing them down. The delay gave Sara’s shoulder a bit more time to heal. Lisha Temple, Willa and Klark shared the carriage.
“Tell me again why you didn’t trust Yester?” Lisha said. She interrogated Sara while Klark made notes. The woman was serious about creating a record of the battle.
“His stance was odd. I can’t describe that part, but we traded some philosophical barbs about the rebel cause and his eyes widened as he talked about taking money from the rich. That kind of thing. He sort of relaxed and nearly smiled when he said he’d give me his answer at nine o’clock in the morning.”
“So when they came through the sewers that Analea opened, you weren’t surprised?”
“I was surprised with what they did. I guess I was thinking ladders being thrown up all over the walls so we couldn’t stop them. We had that covered, but…” Sara balled her fists. “We only won with as little damage as we sustained through the efforts of the trainers and Gateman’s men. The women and boys saved us from the marauding rebels.”
Klark scribbled furiously as the carriage bucked a bit. “But you blew up the battering ram and started the fire.”
“No, the pipe exploders blew it up,” Sara said. She didn’t admit to the fire.
“And you invented the exploders.” Willa slapped her hand on Sara’s knee. “Damn it, woman! Take some responsibility for your success! It’s only right.”
Sara sat back and closed her eyes. “No more questions for the next ten miles.” The way Klark and Willa said it made Sara seem like a heroine, but she didn’t feel like one, dreading the prospect of the facts of the battle marking her as the leader. All she did was react to the circumstances and helped make sure things happened.
It wasn’t that she was a bystander, but she faced the issues as they came and did what she had to do once Choster had made his sacrifice. How she wished he rode with them in the carriage.
The bodies of the dead still filled her sight and took any elation away from the victory.
~
Youngman halted the group when they reached the ten-mile marker to Stonebridge. By now the road was wide and cobbled the rest of the way into the city. The men pulled off on a side road and found a field surrounded by trees.
“There aren’t any towns or villages for a few miles,” Klark said as they exited the carriage and stretched their legs. “I think it’s time for some scouting. If I can make it to my father’s carriage shop, we stand a good chance of knowing what’s going on.”
“Perhaps we need more scouts, then,” Youngman said. “If the Duke has drafted all of the men in Shattuk Downs, then the city won’t hold them all and they’ll be circling Stonebridge.”
“Why do we need to send scouts?” Lisha said. “We’re coming from the north. We’ve taken out most of the Red Swallows. Why don’t we masquerade as loyalists to the Grand Duke? I’m sure we can convince most of the men that’s what we’re doing. A lot of them don’t realize that we represent the King.”
Youngman’s eyes brightened. “All my men have to do is switch uniforms with other men so that no one wears a full kit. Even ten of the King’s soldiers would be awkward.”
“And what if we’re caught?” Willa said.
“Why would we be caught unless we actually demonstrated who we are and what we’re doing? All the three of us have to do is join the women’s brigade. There’s no one to recognize us and if they did, we’d say we came down from Obridge once the siege lifted to look around,” Lisha said.
They all looked to Sara for a decision. “I can’t come up with a better plan. That still allows Klark an excuse to roam around Stonebridge and I can search out the Belting Hollow men without fear of discovery. We can camp here and send Klark and some others to ride out ahead of us and find out to whom we should report and where to set up camp at Stonebridge.”