Courted Sanctuary

by Tara K. Young

Chapter 38

  As another flaming ball sailed overhead, men−both friend and foe−emerged from the trees, coughing. Sieglinde's archers took out the enemies and protected the Mintharchs who were trying to make it back to the gate.

  Sieglinde turned and saw that the latest shot from the enemy's trebuchet had hit the smithy. It was now the third building nearly brought to rubble. It was also the closest yet to the manor. A line of people went from the lake to the first building that had caught fire; what had once been Adalbern's house. They passed along buckets of water. The buckets were too small to make a difference.

  Anselm yelled to her, "There is no one else coming from the forest."

  "Close the drawbridge," she yelled back before climbing down the ladder to check on the wounded in the manor.

  The mothers and crones had already laid them out near the fire and were tending to them with bandages, poultices, and needles and thread. The groans of pain combined and echoed off the stone to make a morbid chorus.

  As she looked at the face of each man, it was compared with a mental list of those who had gone out. Too few names were being checked off. If the others were dead, less than half had survived. It seemed no one had survived without wounds.

  At the second last man, she stopped. The entire left side of his face and a good part of his shoulder was blistered with burns. Smatterings of blood covered the tattered remains of his clothes but he appeared to have no other wounds of his own. She focused upon the good side of his face, trying to ignore the disfigurement caused by the burns. When she realized who he was, she fell to her knees.

  "Dietfried," she said. "Where is Humbert?"

  His unburnt eye opened and he looked at her. His eye rolled around as if he were having trouble focusing. Another boom from another hit from the trebuchet echoed outside.

  "Dietfried," she said quietly. "It is alright. You are home again."

  He said, "They realized we weren't ghosts."

  "What do you mean ghosts?"

  "We managed to take out twenty of a hundred men," he groaned. "We split into pairs and hid in the shadows. We would pluck one at a time from their beds. We stayed as quiet as possible. They had no idea what was going on at first." He stopped talking for a moment to catch his breath. Sieglinde wished she could let him rest but she needed to know what had happened. He continued, "They began to think the forest was haunted, but then their commander woke up and got sense back into them. Dieter and Burkhard tried to take more of them down. They succeeded a few times but the commander was too smart." He was forced to stop as recalling what had happened to his sons came back to him. He convulsed with sobs. "They were caught and killed when they tried again," he cried.

  His eye closed. When he did not speak again, Sieglinde pressed him, "Were any others killed?"

  He took a deep breath before he answered. "I don't know. When the commander realized what was going on he ordered the archers out for the morning. Some of them were reluctant to go but I think they were more afraid of their commander. When we heard the archer's fighting, the commander had had enough. He ordered the trebuchet loaded. I tried to stop them ... "

  Though he had explained the situation very well, though he deserved some rest and peace, she had one more question. "Is Humbert alive?" she asked.

  "I don't know."

  She thanked him and stood, intending to check on the others. A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up to see Lord Mintharch.

  "We can start taking the others through immediately," he said.

  She looked over those gathered in the hall. Though Guntram had said there was hope, she saw none of it amongst the injured and frightened. She looked down at Dietfried. He felt no honour through his pain. They would die trying to save her home. The peninsula would remain but there would be none of them to tend it. As dry as her mouth was, she swallowed. "Yes," she said. "Yes. I have asked too much of them. I hope they can forgive me."

  "They chose to stay," he said. "They knew how to leave and what was coming."

  They walked into the middle of the hall and looked at those around them. Together they announced the new plan to the remaining villagers. Though Sieglinde had expected to see relief upon their faces, many appeared more saddened. Strangely, that sadness is what made her feel the worst. She was now a failure and a coward.

  Within minutes, the village was deserted as even the last of the archers from the wall pushed into the Great Hall. Almost all the buildings except the manor had been hit and engulfed in flame. The thick smoke of the fires had even begun to permeate the hall with an eye-burning haze.

  The first of the able-bodied began to make the journey.

  "You keep things moving here," Lord Mintharch said. "I need to make sure it is still safe on the other side."

  Sieglinde was just about to ask how he would do that when his body transformed in front of her. He turned into a cloud white wyvern. His body looked battered and scarred. Her eyes widened as she realized the triangular sparkling points were his scales. Only a handful of them remained upon his body just behind his front legs and near the end of his tail. Everyone gasped in awe and watched as he pushed with his front legs and sailed through the smoke hole in the ceiling, leaving a small pile of those remaining scales behind.

  She returned her attention to the hall. Amongst the chorus of coughing from the smoke, the mothers and crones were trying to prepare the wounded. Those who could walk on their own waited in line to climb into the tunnel. Those who could not were being wrapped in the curtains being ripped from their bolts.

  Sieglinde rushed to the manor doors. She wanted to ensure that there were still no others outside. Word had spread very quickly about the passage and the hall had filled with the remaining people, but they had not counted. She had no idea what number to count to anymore. The only thing not burning was the wall, which stood as sparkling and as strong as ever.

  The smoke was so think that her eyes were now watering in earnest and she had to breathe into her sleeve to avoid doubling over from coughing. The wind had strengthened and sparks blew from the demolished buildings onto the remaining gardens, setting them alight as well.

  She walked quickly around either side of the manor. She checked the bushes nearest the lake. There was no one and her eyes could not take the punishment any longer. When she turned to go back to the manor, the loudest crash yet made her freeze for a moment before she ran back round to the front of the building.

  The enemy had done it. One of their shots had finally hit the manor. It had caught the edge of the kitchens and the flames were quickly climbing the timbers to the thatched roof. She ran back into the Great Hall and closed the manor door to keep out the worst of the smoke.

  The number of people still waiting to climb into the passage sunk her heart. The fire was upon them. Within minutes, she was sure the manor itself would be nothing but ash.

  To her relief and her surprise, it took only another few moments before the last of the able-bodied who were not staying to help the wounded disappeared into the passage, leaving only the wounded to be lowered down. There were only three of them but each one took as long to lower down as it had taken ten able-bodied people to make the journey.

  Sieglinde, Doris, Hiltraud, Gilbert and Anselm were working to lower Agnes when the roof became completely engulfed and the support beams began to creak. They looked at each other and swallowed hard.

  "Keep going," Sieglinde said, "We can still do this."

  The dry wood of the manor was proving to be eager fuel for the fire. The doors and the front wall were alight when they began to lower Dietfried. The largest of the support beams of the roof groaned as the fire ate it.

  The final tug on the rope indicated the last of the wounded had reached the bottom. The rest of them wasted no time in climbing into the hole. Sieglinde was last.

  The tunnel was too dark to see. She could hear the pairs carrying the wounded talking to each other as they worked together to avoid any dips in the floor. The passage was mostly stra
ight and though there were sometimes rocks that caused small trips, Sieglinde managed to stay upright by keeping her hands pressed against the walls on either side of her.

  With no visual cues, the journey was long. Walking around the lake seemed a shorter distance. When they reached the end, two of the severly wounded had already been lifted out. She waited patiently as the work was completed to lift the last. She found it easier to wait when there was no fire around her.

  When she was finally able to climb to the top, Lord Mintharch was waiting to help her pull herself out of the hole.

  "We need to hurry," he said. "The commander must have discovered our escape route. They started attacking us. Some of our men have manage to drive them back but more of them keep showing up."

  She nodded and followed him from the dying shack. She looked in the direction of the manor. Her home was nearly burnt to the ground. The solar had long since collapsed and the Great Hall was barely recognizable.

  She heard a scream to her right and whirled around to see one of the crones fall and the men carrying her wounded patient cut down quickly after. Two soldiers had broken free of the fighting that blurred the trees in the distance.

  "Run!" Lord Mintharch bellowed.

  "But the wounded!"

  "Run or die!" He yelled again. "Get to the road!"

  She did as he ordered and ran north. Her chest cried in pain with each expansion from her breathing but she did not slow until she stumbled upon several more soldiers trying to attack a small grouping of her people. Swords clanked together in ear piercing bursts as several of her own tried to fight them back. One of them, a tall, broad-shoulder man was having great success in felling the soldiers.

  Her knees nearly buckled when she realized who it was. Humbert was protecting them. He continued to struggle against one of the last soldiers as the cowering group began to break free and continue their run north.

  She hesitated. She did not know whether to stay and help or run with the others. She had no idea how to use a sword but as she watched the dance of Humbert's blade, she realized that he very much did. With hope, she returned to running north, hoping that she would eventually come across some kind of road with carts. She knew Humbert would be alright and that kept her body from giving way.

  Her legs became numb but continued their mechanical movement. The sounds of fighting and fire faded. Her breathing and her foot falls were the only thing she could hear. She continued running.

  She broke from the trees and nearly feel into the side of a horse.

  "Get in the cart," a man said.

  She looked up to see him sitting on a wagon and holding the reins to the horse. Several others had already climbed in the back. Hulda, Minna, Gerulf and Dana were huddled together looking too exhausted and worn to be terrified anymore. She climbed in behind them.

  Through her panting, Sieglinde asked, "How many?"

  The man kept his eyes upon the forest. "Only who you see here," he said.

  She looked into the trees, hoping to see more headed for them.

  "Any wounded being carried?" she asked.

  "No."

  She quieted and waited.

  The forest was silent and peaceful, belying what was happening to the south.

  After several minutes, they heard someone approaching. Sieglinde saw the man's fingers tighten around the reins.

  "We need to get going," he said low.

  "But there are others back there," she said. "We need to wait."

  "They are likely all cut down," he said. "It has been too long since you came. Those footfalls are heavy. If it is an armour weighted soldier, we are in trouble."

  He flicked the reins and urged the horse on. The horse started slowly.

  "But we can't just leave them," she said.

  "We must. I've lost my best friend this day too," he said. "You do not honour the dead by throwing away your life."

  He urged the horse faster and the cart began to bump and shudder over the dips in the ground.

  She looked back at the spot they had left. As distance grew, she saw Humbert run out of the trees and look either way down the road. Her heart leapt as he saw them and began to chase after them.

  "It is Humbert!" she cried. "Stop! Let him get to us!"

  The man stopped the wagon and looked over his shoulder to watch Humbert run up to them. When he had hopped onto the wagon, the man flicked the reins once more and the wagon trundled down the road.

  Sieglinde threw her arms around Humbert and kissed him all over his face. He wrapped his arms around her but pulled his head away.

  "Those are not the kisses I was hoping to have again," he said before pressing his lips against hers.