by A. J. Smith
‘Samson, keep her safe,’ shouted Hasim, recognizing the figure of Samson the Liar.
The images became even more blurred as other men entered the chapel and started to attack Samson. They could hear Ingrid screaming and she dropped the cloud stone at her feet and huddled in the corner. The view they were afforded was of the old-blood roaring and smashing his hammer into the traitorous battle-brothers of Jarvik.
Then darkness, as a stray axe blow smashed the cloud stone and cut off their view.
Hasim roared and threw the table across the room, breaking it against the wall. ‘I’ll feed the bastards to a fucking troll,’ he shouted. ‘She’s just a child.’ He was addressing the now silent cloud stone, wishing his words to be heard by the axe-men who pursued Ingrid. ‘This is not honour… what is Rowanoco for if not for honour, you treacherous cunts.’
Horrock stood and grabbed hold of Hasim. The captain of Wraith Company was several inches taller than the Karesian and he held him firmly by the shoulders.
‘Get a hold of yourself, Hasim, or I’ll throw you against the wall,’ he said with customary calmness.
Hasim was breathing heavily and his eyes were filled with rage, but he slowly slumped and just stared at Horrock.
‘We’re in trouble, captain,’ he said quietly.
Both men sat down and Bronwyn saw a variety of expressions flow across their faces. Hasim’s was still a mask of anger, but he was also deep in thought. Horrock’s piercing eyes shot from side to side as if considering his options. Bronwyn herself was trying not to give in to despair. If the dragon fleet had been lost, her homeland would remain in the hands of the knights, and Ro Hail could not be held. The last few weeks had been filled with half-whispered hope that the Fjorlanders would come south and expel the knights from the Freelands of Ranen. It had happened once before, long ago, when the Ro had last tried to subjugate the Ranen. The men of Fjorlan were brutal and fearsome in battle, more warrior-like than the common men of the Free Companies, and even Horrock looked to them as their last hope for victory.
‘How long until Johan Long Shadow gets here with Scarlet Company?’ asked Hasim, after several minutes of silence.
‘He said they’d leave just after I spoke to him… that was four days ago. If they ride hard, it’ll still take a week to get here.’ Horrock shrugged. ‘If we can’t count on help from Fjorlan…’
‘We’re fucked,’ supplied Hasim, unhelpfully.
‘We are, as you so eloquently say, fucked,’ Horrock agreed. ‘Either Rulag Ursa has gone mad or he is more power hungry than I thought. Not content with stealing the rulership of Jarvik, the bastard’s getting delusions of grandeur.’
‘Ursa used to be a friend of Hallam Pevain, didn’t he?’ asked Hasim.
Horrock nodded. ‘Still is, as far as I know. Pevain helped him secure Jarvik, and they share a similarly lax attitude to honour.’
Bronwyn sensed that Horrock and Hasim were of the impression that a plot was being played out behind the scenes – a plot that had led to Algenon Teardrop’s death and would soon lead to the sacking of Ro Hail.
Horrock started nodding to himself, as if he’d decided on a course of action. ‘Okay, we leave,’ he said. ‘We can pack up food and provisions and be out of this death trap by nightfall. We’ll head east and join up with Johan and Scarlet Company.’
* * *
Time moved at an agonizingly slow pace as the people of Wraith Company feverishly gathered their belongings and loaded carts with food and supplies. Word of Algenon’s death and the presumed loss of the dragon fleet spread quickly through the city and Bronwyn detected a definite change in the demeanour of the Ranen. Before, they had stubbornly held on to the belief that if they could hold Ro Hail for a day or two, help would come, first from Scarlet Company, then from the north, and the knights of the Red could be pushed back. As she looked over their faces now, she saw men and women fearful for their lives in the knowledge that they simply couldn’t win.
Haffen still wanted to stay and he didn’t join the others in packing for a swift retreat. Instead, he stayed at his position on the forward battlements, keeping a silent vigil out towards the Grass Sea. Horrock assured them that Haffen would be at the front of the retreating company and simply needed time to come round to the idea of running away rather than fighting. These were tough people, and Bronwyn could see that none of them liked the situation, where fighting was simply not an option. The Free Companies could not hope to match the armies of Tor Funweir when it came to skill, equipment or tactics, but they had always had an indomitable spirit that made them fearsome in combat. As the people of Wraith Company said goodbye to their home, the hardest thing of all was the realization that they would probably never return. Aside from the two hundred and fifty warriors, Wraith Company numbered some four hundred men, women and children who were not fighters, who were undertaking most of the preparations for the evacuation of Ro Hail.
Hasim had been quiet most of the day, confining himself to assisting by loading carts and weaponry for the long journey east. Whenever Bronwyn had seen him he’d looked close to tears, and she guessed that the probable death of Ingrid Teardrop was affecting him. The roguish Karesian had often spoken of his fondness for Fredericksand and his respect for the house of Teardrop, whether it was his friend Magnus, the high thain Algenon, or the children. The young warrior Alahan and the spirited Ingrid were like family to him. He was unique among Karesians in that he didn’t seem to mind the weather in the far north and preferred the food and drink of Fjorlan to that of his desert homeland.
As evening fast approached, Bronwyn found herself with Stone Dog and Freya helping an old man of Wraith to climb the steps out of the basement.
‘I’ve lived here all my life,’ the old man muttered as he saw the darkening sky. ‘If I were a few years younger, I’d show those damnable knights a thing or two about Wraith Company.’
‘And they’d run, shrieking in terror, I’m sure,’ quipped Stone Dog, as he held the man’s arms and ushered him towards an empty wooden cart in the central courtyard.
Next to it were several dozen other carts loaded with all manner of belongings and supplies. Ro Hail may have been a ruin, but it had also been home to several hundred people, and Bronwyn felt sad looking at the piles of items of personal significance. She saw a mud-stained toy bear sitting in a basket next to an old flute and a dirty rocking horse. Another cart contained tables and chairs taken from the underground rooms, and a third was full to bursting with clothing and linen.
Plenty of carts already had drivers and it looked as if the population would be ready to leave by nightfall. They clustered in small family groups around their carts, and while most were unhappy to be leaving their home, Bronwyn could sense a community spirit that enabled them to remain upbeat as they wrapped up warm and prepared to strike out towards the realm of Scarlet Company.
Nearer the central courtyard, waiting by the gate, were the warriors of Wraith. All were attired in chain mail and heavily armed with axes, hammers and short bows for hunting. There was little talk amongst them, save for occasional jokes about the knights of the Red and vaguely formed plans to defecate in the courtyard as a welcoming gift to the Ro.
Haffen still stood on the battlements above the gatehouse, though he was now little but a shadow in the twilight. His back was facing the courtyard and Horrock had told them he’d keep watch until the last possible moment. Bronwyn thought that time was rapidly approaching, and she saw Hasim mounting the steps towards Haffen.
They helped the old man into a seated position in the back of the cart and Bronwyn watched Haffen and Hasim, waiting for them to come down and sound the evacuation. Instead, however, they were discussing something, and Haffen was gesturing off to the south-east. Hasim was peering into the grey evening and the two men were becoming animated as they spoke.
All of a sudden, Haffen turned sharply and scanned the courtyard. His eyes fixed on Horrock Green Blade standing among the carts and he shouted, ‘Horrock, ge
t up here.’ His voice was urgent.
The people of Wraith stopped their own conversations and craned to look up at Haffen. The captain of Wraith Company appeared concerned as he walked rapidly from the carts to the stone steps. Bronwyn quickly left Stone Dog and moved to join the captain, as she’d decided shortly after arriving that she wasn’t going to let anything happen without her knowing about it. She was still a noble and she felt that the least she could do was to listen to the others and offer counsel if she were able.
Horrock glanced at her as she joined him, but said nothing as the two of them rapidly ascended the steps. Once they reached the battlements, Bronwyn glanced out across the darkening Grass Sea and breathed a little easier when she didn’t see any immediate cause for alarm. No campfires or other indicators of an advancing army were visible and she hoped whatever Haffen had spotted was not a precursor to an imminent attack.
‘We’re ready to leave, Haffen. What’s the alarm?’ Horrock asked wearily.
Haffen was still pointing off towards the south-east, roughly the same direction from which Bronwyn had approached Ro Hail two weeks ago. Hasim was standing next to him and peering along the length of his arm.
‘Look over there, by the first line of trees,’ Haffen said to his captain.
Horrock leant forward over the battlements.
‘Are you sure you’re not just looking for a reason to stay,’ Bronwyn asked Haffen, trying to maintain a light mood.
He glared at her and replied, ‘Just look over there, Bronwyn, and tell me if you see something by the tree line.’
She stood next to Hasim and took a long look out into the twilight. The trees began at the furthest extent of her vision and she could barely make out the area as the sky rapidly darkened.
The small copse was arranged in several lines and blowing gently in the wind. As they blew back, Bronwyn thought she saw something shining in the darkness – a dull, silvery surface which was out of place among the trees. All three involuntarily leant forward and Bronwyn held her breath as she saw, in a gap between the branches, an armoured knight, on horseback. with a red tabard. It was a momentary glimpse, nothing more, but a quick glance at the others’ faces told her they had seen it too.
‘Rowanoco save us,’ said Haffen, ‘that’s a knight of the Red.’
Their eyes remained locked on the tree line as the quickening wind revealed a second knight and then a third and then, with a heavy gust, a full column of knights was briefly visible in the distance.
They remained silent for a moment before Horrock turned swiftly, strode to the inner edge of the battlements, and roared down at the assembled people of Wraith.
‘The time to flee has passed… the men of Ro have come and we must fight for our land.’ He paused for a moment while those below looked up with astonishment on their faces and fear in their eyes. ‘Strength, my friends,’ shouted Horrock. ‘Strength for our sons and our daughters… if we are to die on this ground, defending this land.’ His voice rose. ‘We will make those that take our lives remember the night they fought the free people of Wraith.’ His words carried conviction and Bronwyn could see the people stirred with anticipation, fear and rising bloodlust.
Haffen moved to join Horrock. ‘We defend this ground,’ ordered the captain. ‘Get the wagons out of sight, the women and children into the basement and you lot,’ he pointed to the battle-brothers of Wraith, ‘kill anything that tries to breach the wall.’
‘To your stations,’ Haffen said quietly.
Movement erupted from below as they hurriedly carried out their instructions. The wagons were hastily pulled out of the way and into covered buildings to the north of the ruined town. The women, children and others who couldn’t fight were corralled by Freya Cold Eyes into the basement complex, and Bronwyn saw the axe-men in the courtyard move quickly to the wooden fortifications.
‘Go with Freya,’ Hasim said to Bronwyn as they stood on the forward battlements.
‘You know I’m not going to, so why do you ask?’ she replied petulantly.
He turned to direct a hard stare at her. ‘Because you’re the lady of Ro Canarn and nothing would be served by you dying under a knight’s blade.’ He was deadly serious and Bronwyn noted the real concern for her safety in his words.
‘Get the throwing-axes stowed, bundles at every point of the courtyard,’ Haffen was shouting nearby. ‘Stone Dog, you’re up here with me.’
Bronwyn stepped close to Al-Hasim to speak more privately. ‘I know you care, Karesian. Though I’m sure not wanting to annoy my brother has a lot to do with it… but I know you care all the same.’
‘Just go with Freya,’ he repeated tenderly, slowly reaching down to hold her hand.
Bronwyn involuntarily pulled it away. ‘Don’t do that,’ she said. ‘You’re worried about the knights and it’s making your head go soft.’ She smiled at the Karesian scoundrel – a man, far from home, who’d found himself fighting alongside Ranen for a patch of land that was not his own. ‘If the last few weeks have taught us anything, it’s that survival is always possible, no matter what the odds.’
‘This isn’t an adventure, Bronwyn,’ he said with sadness in his eyes. ‘This is a war. I’ve never fought in one before, either. I’ve always gone out of my way to avoid them.’ He reached for her hand again. ‘Look around… look at Haffen, at Horrock, at all those people down there… by morning they will all be dead. If you’re in the basement with the others, they may just spare your life.’
They stood looking at each other for several moments, saying nothing, until Bronwyn saw something bright on the distant horizon and turned. Hasim was still holding her hand and she found that she liked the warmth of it. The two of them moved side by side to look southwards and saw a line of fire in the distance.
‘Haffen,’ Hasim called over his shoulder. ‘The knights mean to bombard us.’ His words were quiet and solemn, and as Bronwyn peered into the twilight she could make out a heavy catapult under each fiery glow.
Haffen looked and swore loudly to the sky before quickly turning and shouting to the courtyard, ‘Catapults, take cover.’
The men below ran for the cover of stone just as the audible sound of wood flexing signalled the release of flaming rocks.
The sky erupted in light as several dozen catapults shot trails of fire from the horizon towards the city. Bronwyn watched with wide eyes as the fire moved slowly through the sky and then thundered over her head. Horrock appeared behind them and dragged her and Hasim behind the battlements.
‘Incoming!’ shouted the captain of Wraith Company.
The men below took cover as the first flaming rock crashed into the courtyard, scattering the remaining carts and lighting up the ruins of Ro Hail. More rocks followed and wood and flame erupted across the courtyard, crushing men and breaking the fortifications. Men aflame ran frantically to find water or dropped to roll on the ground. Most of the wooden constructions were still intact, but some were on fire and Bronwyn gasped as she saw Freya, still above ground, running to a water barrel. The men of Wraith had secreted barrels of flammable pitch around the courtyard in preparation for use against the knights, and they hurried to move them away from the fires.
Then a horn sounded from the Grass Sea and a roar followed, signalling the knights’ advance.
‘To your stations,’ Horrock ordered quietly as he unsheathed his two-headed axe and moved along the battlements.
Haffen took a last deep breath and turned to Bronwyn and Hasim. ‘Let’s die well, shall we?’ he said with a vicious grin.
Hasim and Bronwyn shared a meaningful look and she realized he was still holding her hand.
* * *
The men of Wraith were poised behind the battlements as more rocks thudded into the outer walls and the reconstructed gates. Bronwyn was crouched above the gatehouse next to Al-Hasim, with Haffen and a dozen more members of Wraith Company on guard next to them. The knights were arrayed across the plain to the south, maybe five hundred of them, identified b
y Hasim as the army’s advance guard. The knights of the Red shouted challenges at the battlements and banged their longswords on their red tabards. The catapults had been wheeled closer but now threw no fire. Instead, they heaved huge rocks into the air, designed to smash the walls and open the gate.
There had been no offer of parley and Bronwyn surmised that the knights simply planned to clear Ro Hail and hold it as a staging area. They had not surrounded the ruined town, but the Ranen made no attempt to escape. The knights had large warhorses and could easily ride down anyone who tried to break free from the barricades. She considered counselling surrender, but the faces of the Ranen warriors around her told of their intention to stay hidden until they saw the chance to kill.
They had no catapults or artillery with which to answer the bombardment and Horrock had quickly ordered them to take cover and remain patient. The knights would not have seen the majority of the Ranen, and Horrock was hoping they would enter the city unaware of those lying in wait for them. His tactical mind was focused on how to cause the most damage to the advance guard of knights and to buy time for the carts to escape via the north, where Freya had led most of the non-combatants through the underground complex.
Bronwyn could barely see down into the courtyard, but she could make out a large space filled only with the burning remnants of smashed carts and a few dead bodies. Patience was clearly not a common trait among the Free Companies and the men were shaking with battle fervour as they waited for the knights to enter the killing ground.
The wall shook as more boulders thudded into the stone and Bronwyn hunkered down behind the battlements. Hasim was still with her and had adopted a protective, crouched position above her, his scimitar held threateningly in his hand.
Then the sound of splintered wood sounded from below and the main gates of Ro Hail flew inwards. The knights of the Red let out a raucous cheer and a horn sounded to signal the charge. In unison, the column of five hundred knights wheeled their horses and rode hard for the open gates.