Child of the Knight

by Matt Heppe

  “There’s been a constant stream of arrivals. All of Landomere realizes what must be done. Given enough time we could have a thousand or more Landomeri here.”

  “But we are out of time.” Hadde said. “Let’s get prepared. I want to take a look at the back door.”

  “Let me,” Joymarre said.

  Hadde shook her head. “Maret and the children are my responsibility.”

  Joymarre crossed her arms and fixed Hadde with her gaze. “You let the Saladorans rebuild their palisade. It is your task to lead the attack against it. And you won’t be able to think straight once you get in the keep. We need someone who will keep her head.”

  Hadde rose on the balls of her feet and pointed her finger at Joymarre. “If you don’t think I can keep my head, you don’t know me.”

  Joymarre glanced at Hadde’s finger, smiled, and shook her head. “I know who you are. You are the famous Hadde who killed Akinos. But you are also a mother. And I think hero, mother, and leader will not mix.”

  “I agree with Joymarre,” Arno said before Hadde could reply. She turned on him, but he held up his hand. “Joymarre has proven herself. She can lead the attack.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Maret lay back in bed supported by pillows, staring out the window. It was the deepest, darkest part of the night, and the keep was dead silent. The children lay sleeping in the bed next to her, utterly unaware of all that was happening because of them.

  “My little babies,” she said. “My little ones.”

  The windows were wide open and an occasional breeze wafted through. A thunderstorm had passed close by earlier, and she had feared the children would wake, but they slept through it. It was only hunger that roused them.

  Having a child had changed her. She had been so selfish before. But now, everything she did, she did for Orlos. And now for Enna as well. She was no fearless Hadde, who could shoot a bow or fight with a sword. But she would fight for the children any way she could. If she could find some way to escape, she would. But if they ended up in Salador, she would fight for them there. She would give them the best life she could.

  A man shouted outside, down in the courtyard. There was another, and then a cry of pain.

  The alarm bell sounded and there were more shouts. The previous night the smoke had been so bad Maret had had to flee the room.

  Would it be the same? They had spent the entire day rebuilding the palisade. Maybe tonight would be the night the Landomeri would break through. Maybe tonight she would be freed.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  “Who’s there?” Maret called.

  “Kael. There’s an attack on.”

  Maret got out of bed, careful not to wake the children, and then rushed to the door and drew the bolt. Kael entered the room, latching the door behind him. He had his helmet on and carried his poleaxe. His crossbow was slung on his back.

  “Stand clear of the windows, my lady,” he said as he crossed the room.

  “Are we formal again?”

  He closed the shutter and bolted it. “It just comes to me. I want you to be safe.” He moved to the other window. But instead of closing it he sat on the deep sill and looked out.

  “Now it is your turn to be safe,” Maret chided. “Get in here.”

  “Just a moment.”

  But it was more than a moment. After a while Maret said, “What do you see?”

  “It is more serious than before.” He leaned back into the room. “The Landomeri are assaulting the palisade, not burning it. They aren’t making much success of it. Captain Saunder is holding the wall. The arrows are flying something furious though.”

  “You’ll stay with me?”

  He looked at her in the darkness and she could barely make out his face. “Protecting you and the children is the only task I have.”

  “I would be terrified if not for you.”

  His eyes met hers and he drew a breath as if to speak. But the pause lingered and then he looked back out the window. “If this is the real thing, it will get much worse than this,” he finally said.

  Someone hammered at the door.

  “Who’s there?” Kael demanded, jumping up from the sill.

  “The baroness wishes for Lady Maret to join her in the Great Hall,” a man’s voice called from beyond the door.

  Maret shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “The fewer guards around me the better.”

  “She wishes to remain here,” Kael said, moving toward the door.

  “The baroness commands it.”

  Maret cast about the room, hoping an idea would come to her. “Very well, we will be there shortly,” she called. “I have to change.”

  “We will wait,” the guard said.

  “I will leave while you change,” Kael said. “Shall I call a maid to help you?”

  “Don’t leave. You can look aside. I’ve become very Landomeri about these things.” The shouts rose louder outside, as did the clash of arms. “Would you look out there, Kael? Tell me if you see Hadde.”

  He went to the window. “I don’t know that I would recognize her even if I saw her. The Landomeri can’t get over the palisade. The Captain and his men are keeping them at bay.”

  “Are many wounded?”

  “I can’t see over the wall. None of the Captain’s men are down.”

  “I just want it to be over,” Maret said as she pulled her dress over her head.

  “Come along in there,” the guard called from outside the door.

  Maret recognized his voice. It was the leering man who had come in earlier. Gren. No doubt the other was his friend. She knelt and tied her low boots tight. They didn’t much go with the dress, but if all went well, she would soon be out of doors.

  “I’m ready. Kael, would you mind and take that basket?” she asked as she scooped up Enna, who was attempting an escape over the side of the bed. Then, gently, she scooped up Orlos, who woke, but didn’t fuss.

  “Baby linens, herbs, and scented oils?”

  “That one.”

  “Forsvar save me,” he said. “This is what I will carry into battle?”

  They entered the torch-lit hall, where the two guards gave Kael a wide berth. Both had cocked crossbows. “This way,” Gren said. They marched down the hall, but as they passed the central stair Maret thought she heard noise echoing up from below.

  Kael paused at the open doorway to the stairs. “They are in the keep,” he said. He gave Maret an intense stare and she knew in a moment what he was thinking. All that stands between us and freedom are these two guards.

  But both had crossbows, locked and ready. And her two precious children were in her arms. She gave him a quick shake of her head.

  “Take Lady Maret to the Baroness,” Kael said. “I will bar the door.”

  She almost objected but stopped at his wink. Kael leaned his poleaxe against the wall and started pulling the door closed. “Go now, take her to the baroness.”

  “This way, lady,” Gren said. He motioned down the hall. She wouldn’t have gone with him if not for the fact she could see the door to the Great Hall standing ajar just a few strides away.

  Behind her, the stairwell door slammed closed and the bar fell into place. Tomar’s valet stood guard at the door to the great hall. He let them in, and Kael soon followed.

  Baroness Alma stood by an ornate, heavy chair at the end of the hall’s long table. Five other women stood near her, all of them huddled close together. Untouched platters of food rested on the table before them.

  “They are in the keep and coming up the stairs,” Kael said. “Where are the guards?”

  “At the arrow loops or on the roof,” the valet, Pator, said.

  “This stairwell is secure, for a while at least,” Kael said. “There is another one?”

  “There is.”

  “We need that stairwell secured right away. And the men from the roof must be brought down to clear the keep.”

  Pator turned to the two guards. “You heard him
. Gren, secure the stairwell. Red, get the men from the roof. Bring them here.”

  “Who is he to command us?” Gren said. “We have to stay here and protect her ladyship, the baroness. Bar the door!”

  “If they get onto this floor then the baroness cannot be protected,” Kael said.

  “Go!” Pator ordered.

  “Send him!” Gren said, pointing at Kael.

  “I have orders to guard Lady Maret.”

  Gren scoffed. “He wants to save his own ass, is what he wants to do.”

  “Go now!” Pator shouted. “Do your duty!”

  “Dromost take you!” Gren said as the two guards left the hall. Kael and Pator barred the door after them. But almost as soon as they barred the door, there were shouts from outside.

  “Let us back! Open!” Gren shouted. There were two thunks against the door and then a fist pounded against it. “Let us in!”

  Pator went to lift the bar, but Kael stopped him. “We can’t,” he said. “It is too late.”

  An arrowhead appeared through the door and one of the women with Alma screamed. Outside the door the hall went silent. And then someone hammered on the door with the butt of a weapon.

  “Open up,” a woman’s voice commanded. Maret’s heart jumped at first, thinking it was Hadde. “Open up. We hold the keep. We just want Orlos returned to us. Orlos, Maret, and Enna.”

  “What is your command, my lady?” Pator asked.

  The women huddled close around the baroness, but she stood strong, or at least hid her fear well. Maret stood a short distance from the women, half way between them and where Kael stood at the door.

  Alma shook her head. “Is it truly lost?”

  “If they have the keep, they must have taken the bailey as well,” Kael said.

  “You must surrender, Lady Alma,” Maret said. “They won’t harm you.”

  “They are savages. How can I surrender to them? They have no honor.”

  “My lady,” Maret spoke as calmly as she could, despite Enna’s decision to start wailing. “There is only one reason the Landomeri are here. They are here for the children who have been stolen from them. I swear to you in Forsvar’s name. In the name of Helna the Creator, they will not harm you.”

  “Open,” the Landomeri woman called, “or we will break our way in.”

  Maret strode towards the door. “It is me, Maret!” she shouted. “I am here with Orlos and Enna.”

  “Are you safe?”

  Maret looked to the baroness. “Yes! I am safe. Do not break the door!”

  “You are certain?” the baroness asked. “They will not harm us?”

  “The babies are safe. I am safe. That is all the Landomeri want. They are not a vengeful people.”

  “Don’t do it, my lady,” one of the other women said.

  “Don’t force them to break their way in,” Maret said. “If your man attempts to defend you, arrows will fly and blows will be struck. The keep is lost. It is time to surrender.”

  “Very well,” Alma said. “Our lives are in your hands.”

  Maret stepped closer to the door. “Lay down your arms,” she said to Pator. “You as well, Kael.”

  Kael placed his pole-axe and crossbow on the floor. Pator glanced at the lady Alma, who nodded her approval, before reluctantly laying down his arms.

  “We yield,” Maret called out.

  ***

  Hadde loosed another arrow, her third at the same man. One had struck his helm while the other two had flown high. Across the moat, Landomeri spearmen surged against the palisade, but as planned, none attempted to climb it.

  She glanced left as another Landomeri fell to a crossbow bolt and had to be helped across the planks they had thrown across the moat.

  “Calen,” Hadde said. “Take five more archers against that tower.” She pointed off to her left. “Kill them, or at least keep them down!”

  “I will, huntress,” he said. He grabbed a few nearby archers and they ran off into the darkness. There was no sign of fear in him. He’s not the same as he was. He’s not a boy anymore. It wasn’t a thought that made her entirely happy.

  Hadde turned back to the keep and nocked another arrow. “Any sign in the tower?” she asked her father.

  He loosed an arrow at the defenders on the roof. “No sign.”

  Hadde drew and loosed. The man fell back, but she couldn’t tell if she had just scared him, or struck him a deadly blow.

  “Should we send someone to the back door?”

  “They will send word, just keep shooting.”

  A Landomeri screamed out in pain, a bolt through his leg. Two others took his arms and dragged him away. “If I am going to shoot I want it to count,” Hadde said. “I’m going across.” Before he could reply, Hadde dashed across one of the sagging planks. The narrow bank was crowded with Landomeri. A pile of rubble from the fallen tower to the right of the breach would give her a shot over the attacking spearmen.

  Hadde clambered up the jumbled rocks. Spent arrows, deflected against the keep above, fell around her, but she ignored them and nocked her own arrow.

  A Saladoran rose up and swung his poleaxe at a nearby Landomeri. Hadde loosed her arrow. It penetrated his mail coif and drove deep into his neck. She was close enough to see the surprise on his face. He is not a man. He stole my baby. He is not a man.

  “They’re in, Hadde!” her father’s voice rose above the clash of battle. Close, so close!

  A shrill whistle sounded three times from behind the palisade. Hadde nocked an arrow, waiting for someone to appear. But no helm rose above the palisade.

  A Landomeri spearman pulled himself up and peered over the wall. Hadde drew her bow, expecting the man to fly back in a shower of blood. Instead he turned and shouted, “They’re running.”

  “Where?” Hadde yelled, as cheers erupted around her. She couldn’t hear his reply over the shouts. She let the tension out of her bow, stuffed the arrow in her quiver and scrambled to the top of the wall.

  Idorians ran for the keep’s open door. They know Joymarre is inside!

  “Follow me!” Hadde shouted, and without waiting to find out if anyone was, she leapt atop the palisade and jumped down to the bailey below.

  She drew her sword and sprinted after the Idorians. She had to stop them from closing the keep’s door. Most of the palisade’s defenders had already made the door, but a few straggled behind.

  One of the stragglers raised a crossbow and shot at her as he ran. The bolt flew high, maybe even aimed at someone coming over the palisade.

  Hadde raised her sword and shouted a battle cry that was pure rage. One of the Idorians turned at the sound of her voice. Saunder. He struck a defensive stance, holding his sword in a high guard, even as he backed toward the door.

  Hadde dropped her bow and ran right at him, but at the last moment she dodged aside. His blade whistled past her brow. She only wanted to get past him and hold the door until friends arrived, but he was too fast. She had to use a high block against an overhead strike. Before she could counter, he drove a thrust at her chest. Her blade barely turned his aside as she stumbled backwards.

  It was all the space he needed. He broke and ran. Hadde recovered her balance and was after him, but his men had all made the safety of the keep. An arrow flew into the open door, while another stuck into it.

  Saunder leaped between the two doors as his men shoved them closed. Hadde slammed her shoulder against the door, but her impact did nothing to stop them. More Landomeri hit the door, but it was too late. The doors closed and she felt the bar slam behind them.

  Maybe twelve men had gotten into the keep. And the keep already had its own defenders. How would Joymarre fare against those odds?

  A bolt struck the door a hand span from Hadde’s head. Another hit the stone above them. “Run!” she shouted to the Landomeri who had followed her. “Run for the palisade!”

  There were still Saladorans in the gatehouse and corner towers. She hadn’t thought of them as she had jumped int
o the bailey. Just as hard as she had run for the doors, she and the others ran for the safety of the palisade. She stooped to pick up her bow as she ran.

  Hadde fell to the far side of the wall, gasping in great gulps of air.

  Arno ran up to her. “That was a damned fool thing to do,” Arno said.

  “The back door,” Hadde said. “We have to get in the back.”

  “They have armored men standing behind a narrow door. We can’t just push through and we have no angle to shoot them.”

  Hadde’s heart sank. “They’ve retaken the keep?”

  “I don’t know. But they hold both doors.”

  “What do we do?” She stared down at the blade she still held in her hand. Helna, that was a near thing. He was fast. Hadde glanced up at the nearby Landomeri. Archers watched the top of the keep, while others stood sheltered behind the palisade.

  “Why is nobody shooting?”

  “There’s nobody to shoot,” Arno said. “Calen and others have seized the corner tower. And no Saladorans dare appear at the top of the keep.”

  “We have to get in.”

  “We will, Hadde. We are going to throw ropes to the roof. If our archery has cleared the defenders, or Joymarre can get to the roof, we will gain entry there.”

  Hadde saw three Landomeri climb to the top of the wall still standing next to the keep. One held a long rope, while two others held Saladoran shields to cover him.

  Hadde stood and watched as he whirled the grappling line and then cast it. The hook only made it to the shuttered windows on the top floor, well short of the roof crenellations.

  “He’ll get the feel for it,” Arno said.

  A bolt cracked off the wall near the grappling crew. Hadde crept to the top of the wall. A fire burned in the center of the bailey, casting faint light against the walls and outbuildings. Nearby, three Idorians lay dead. Across the bailey stood tents, their walls flapping in the gusts of another approaching squall. Further off, two lines of tethered horses stood near the gatehouse. A bolt struck the tower, closer to the grappling crew.

  “They are shooting from the gate tower,” Hadde said over her shoulder. “From an arrow loop, I think.” A bolt glanced off one of the shield bearers’ shields, but she stood steady with her partner. The man with the grappling hook cast again, but it fell short.