by Wade Adrian
A moment later the man he'd sent onto the ladder climbed up over the top, landing with a heavy thud this time.
Well in sight of the defenders moving to stop them.
There was a great deal of motion below now. The whole place was lighting up. People were looking up at them, pointing, barking orders.
Two of his soldiers stood facing inward, shields high. Just in case. They were defending the infiltration point after all.
Tom smiled as the defenders closed.
Suckers.
29
Max knelt in the shadows along the south east edge of the wall. It was one of the furthest points from the ground, and therefore one they didn't seem to consider much of a threat. The nearest braziers were a good fifty paces off on either side.
And even if that wasn't the case, they were a little preoccupied with an obvious incursion on the north wall, where the ground was highest, an obvious point to attack.
Which was why they had hit it first.
The rope ladder didn't make more than a whisper of noise as their people climbed. Max glanced over the side.
There was barely two feet between climbers. The whole thing swayed a bit in the wind at first, but with so much weight it was perfectly stable now.
If needs be they would tell the climbers to wait and hide, the ropes were close in color to the stone work and would probably be missed in the dark. And once they were done they could simply pull the ladder up so no one patrolling outside would find it either. The one drawback to it was that they had to be inside to deploy it, but that had turned into a useful diversion anyway.
Tom looked to be having fun. He smacked one guy so hard with his mace that he tumbled over the lower inside wall.
Max could hear the scream from across the fort as the man fell.
Not his problem right now. He turned and patted a scout on the back as she climbed over. A dark haired woman he'd never caught the name of. They answered to Eira, not him.
Then again Eira sort of answered to him?
The command structure had some confusing twists.
Hell with it. He had a job to do, and that was good enough for him.
It only took a few minutes to get all but two of their people inside, and those two weren't coming. They had to babysit horses, and they weren't doing a great job of it. Tom had given the signal awhile ago.
Max's hands grabbed tight on his daggers when a second alarm went up. He swept into a ready stance atop the wall...
People were yelling and running to the front gate.
Oh, well maybe those guys weren't slacking so bad after all.
The horses had been packed up with all the usual gear, but it was stacked up on the saddles and tied up in tents and blankets. It wouldn't pass for a person in daylight, but with how little someone on the walls could see at night? It seemed to be fine.
Max waved a hand down the center of the group that had climbed up. He pointed one set to the left, and the other to the right. Their orders were to take the wall, following the simple path above which kept them safe from most of the inside too. One group would arrive behind Tom to reinforce, the other would arrive behind the defenders to flank.
Once the wall was theirs they could shoot down and move into the courtyard and buildings one by one.
Most of the fighting would take place up top, of course. The defenders thought they were putting pressure on the only incursion point, so they would throw everything they had.
Eira lead the group moving right along the path to reinforce Tom, Max moved out in front of the group going left. It was a longer path, and it seemed like they might have some fighting to do.
A group of defenders was amassing above the main gate, firing arrows out into the night.
Well, better at the darkness than at them. Their chances of hitting a moving horse in the black beyond were pretty terrible.
The odds didn't improve much as Max's group closed on them.
Blades cleaved the air, striking archers who were busy looking elsewhere. Those further along the wall heard the fighting and turned, but while they might have had better numbers to start with, they didn't with half a dozen archers bleeding out on the roof.
He charged into the line of enemies, daggers moving in tandem. He would wait for a target to swing on him only to parry their weapon aside and bury the second dagger into them.
Max didn't stay with any of them long enough to be sure of a kill. He had people at his back, and too many up front.
When one cried out and tried to get away he would let them, moving onto the next on the wall and repeating the two pronged defensive tactic.
There was no room up here to swing his estoc, especially not with his own people in so close. He didn't know if he could hurt them, but he didn't want to find out either. The daggers did quite well.
The fighting grew more heated as they moved. The further they got, the more people the defenders seemed to have to throw at them.
There must be a dozen behind but... there were just as many ahead. More. And all packed in close now.
Blows glanced off his light armor, sending entirely too much force into his shoulders and sides.
The armor might have kept blows from causing much damage, but it didn't seem to stop any of the pain.
Blades buried in an attacker, Max had to let go of them and dance back a step when a thrusting sword blade appeared out of nowhere. It sailed across his chest, cutting through the dyed leather and heavy wool coat like butter...
But it sent sparks as it met the light chain shirt he wore beneath.
One of his people batted the sword aside and stepped up to take over the fight.
Max fell back another step, his back to the wall. His hand moved to the hole in his armor.
A bit of damage, sure, but he was fine... this time.
Not everyone was so fortunate. He could see two blue clad corpses lying face down behind their position.
The enemy had started with greater numbers, but they didn't seem to be running out either. More defenders were climbing the stairs up to the wall. Each paused briefly before deciding to move at Tom's group or Max's. Most pressed against Tom's line. It probably seemed like a bigger threat.
And it certainly was. Tom had his reinforcements now, not to mention Tom himself being a cleric. He could probably hold that spot forever if he had to. At least until his mana ran out. But then he had those marbles, too.
Max was less sure they could stay here. He couldn't fix any of the damage being done, and he lacked the armor or abilities to soak the damage for them.
He ground his teeth as he retrieved his piddly daggers from the dead man.
A paladin would be really handy right about now.
Tom laughed as he brought his mace down onto the head of some idiot dumb enough to charge him. Guy's head bounced when it hit the stones under their feet.
Good times.
Einar swore. "How are there this many?"
"Looks like we stumbled onto something bad here."
Einar nodded, his shield high as he faced forward again. "Yes... but I'm not sure how well our thirty soldiers can do against this."
"Fortunately they think we have more." Tom bashed another, this one from low to high, sending him reeling back into the guys behind him. "Wonder what they're holding back to face our cavalry."
He chuckled.
Two handed maces were a riot.
The whistle of arrows was becoming a constant thing. Eira had people too far back to be much use in the melee shooting down at the guys climbing the stairs. Most of them had shields, so it wasn't the best strategy. It got a few though, and it chipped away at those that made it to the top.
He approved.
And... he felt a pang of jealousy. Archery was his thing, or rather, it had been. Even so, he knew on his best day he would not have had enough arrows for all this nonsense.
Einar shook his head. "So many. They had to have been moving people in for months... years maybe."
Bad
guys were piling up on the wall... a few too many for Tom's liking. He fumbled around in his inventory for his marble bag. It was easier without fat fingers from wearing gauntlets. He got one out without a lot of trouble, but it took a few moments.
Einar and the others kept people back.
He cast smite, waving the marble around as he chose the spell. It lit up, growing in intensity until it was a tiny ball of pure white. Tom stood with a bright new star in his hand.
The marble kicked things higher. The spell's current rank multiplied by ten. Whatever the math should be with a zero tossed on. They were kinda nuts.
"If you guys pray, you might want to start."
He tossed the marble at the clustered group of enemies.
A shaft of light twenty feet wide fell from the sky, striking the group like a pneumatic piston, shoving them all to the stones.
Several were just crushed like cans, folded down into a heap. Those that weren't smooshed hit the stones and bounced.
He had to give them props, at least the ones that got back up. They coughed out some blood, yelled, and charged again.
Not exactly the reaction Tom had been expecting.
Plenty more defenders were climbing the stairs despite what they had just witnessed.
"Bunch of wackos. They should be running."
Einar scoffed. "I kind of want to... but they're zealots. Dying is good to them. Besides, where would they go?"
"The guy in charge of the Narwhal surrendered."
"There are cowards among all peoples. Tends to go hand in hand with being rich and having something to lose."
Leader guy had been sporting some pretty fancy gear. Huh.
"So we need to find the guy in charge, get him to step down."
Einar shook his head. "The battle is joined now, and whatever they were planning to do here exposed. If they still want to invade, or start building up again, they can't let us leave to warn anyone. So far they don't seem to be at a disadvantage. Why would they give up?"
Tom frowned. "And here I thought we would just be bashing some skulls. I'm not in this for politics."
Einar bit off a bitter laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it."
Tom stepped back a moment, letting his line form up without him.
The supply of men from below didn't seem phased. Someone scarier than Tom was at their back with a whip, whether that was a man or a god. Or both. Probably both.
They might be able to churn through them all... but they were going to suffer for it sooner or later. They'd probably cut through their own number so far, but there might be twice as many left, and those were the ones he could see.
He checked the marble bag...
Five more.
Ugh.
A short cry caught his attention. One of his people fell back, away from the line.
Tom knelt beside him, laying a hand on his arm. Golden light washed over him.
The man blinked a few times before giving a nod and snatching up his fallen sword. He rejoined the line.
Fighting out ahead hadn't let up, despite him making a crater in their line. If they had that many people to throw away then this mission was in trouble.
Unfortunately it didn't seem like he was going to be able to get away to do anything about it. He was the only one that could keep his people in fighting form. They could all be hardened veterans, which they most certainly were not, and they'd still lose the numbers game.
Voices rose from behind.
Tom turned, readying his mace.
The soldiers at the rear parted.
Max appeared at the head of a haggard looking group.
Tom set his mace down, his hands already looking for healing. "What happened?"
"Plan A? Yeah, that's done. Place is a beehive."
Tom grunted. Max's wounds were easy enough to heal. The next few were no real problem either.
Max stared down at the people still massing on the stairs, even as arrows continued to fall on them. "I lost two on the other side. One more on the way over. Probably would have lost more without your little distraction."
Tom grunted. "Well, at least it accomplished that much."
"You have like... twenty more of those?"
"Five."
Max's face twisted as he looked over his armor. It was pretty thrashed. "Five is insufficient. Look, man, I don't want to talk about withdrawing, but realistically..."
"No!" Einar appeared beside Tom, his sword and shield still in hand. "We won't get back in here. They have the numbers to keep us out forever, and plenty to cover getting more troops in here, not to mention running us down in the open. Every soldier my father could come up with wouldn't be enough. We won't get another chance at this place."
Tom crossed his arms. "Somehow I don't think your dad understood what was happening here."
"It's worse, sure, but nothing has changed. These are still hostiles holding our strongest fortress. We just... need to get them out. Or get them to surrender."
Max shook his head. "Kid, we don't even know how many men they have left. We've put plenty down, and they don't even seem to care."
Eira appeared beside max. "He's right, Einar. We'll be lucky to get out of here without further losses."
Tom tugged on his beard. "Kind of glad we didn't hit this one first now..."
Einar bashed his shield against the wall with a cry of frustration. "Damn it all!"
Tom's eyebrow crept up. "Since when do you care? You ran off, kid."
Einar scoffed. "Father was afraid to act when I left. All that was to be left to me was a castle surrounded by enemies and a backstabbing sister who hated me for being born. What was the point?"
Eira's face twisted a bit.
Tom nodded. "Kid's got a point."
Einar let out a sigh. "All my life I've been inundated with stories about how my grandfather, and his father, and his father, were great warriors. But it was never the right time for us to act. Always too risky, or too expensive. And always too few trustworthy allies. We're finally making some damned headway, only to run into this?"
Tom shrugged. "I get it, and I like your moxie kid, but what can we do? We've got limited people. Sure, we've got a choke point for now, but that's keeping us alive not providing an offensive benefit."
Einar turned back and forth, his eyes high then low. When his glance fell onto Max he paused, then pointed his sword at him. "You."
Max pointed at himself. "Me?"
Eira edged closer to Max. Was she afraid Einar would attack? The kid didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.
Einar nodded. "Call your birds."
Max tilted his head. "Why? It's dark. They won't see much more than we can, and they'll stand out. They don't move about at night on their own."
Einar's head shook up and down repeatedly. "Exactly. They'll see it for what it is. The act of a god."
Eira crossed her arms and bit off a laugh. "A god you don't like."
"That really doesn't matter right now. She is of our pantheon." Einar shook his head. "These people are religious to a fault, but Mehtan makes demands, not shows. The birds acting on our behalf will be seen for what it is."
Tom glanced around at everyone. "Dude, I hit them with a pillar of light from the sky. That was clearly a god beam."
"That was clearly magic. They know magic. They have a ruling class of mages back home."
Max rubbed at his chin. "Well... it will be a distraction at any rate. Maybe we can use it to search the place without gathering too much attention. Someone has to be in charge here."
Tom nodded. "Cut off the head. Classic move." He frowned a bit. "You think that's safe?"
"Right now the safest thing we can do is run with our backs exposed."
"True..." Tom dug around in his inventory and fished out a marble. "Well, call your little friends. If an enemy god will give them pause, we'll give them the 'ol one two. Two gods are better than one."
Max nodded, his hand grasping the crow skull around his neck.
Tom
paged through the spells he had waiting. Most of the cleric list was still heals. Smite hadn't exactly knocked their socks off... if they had mages ruling back home they were probably used to magical executions. Something else...
Oh. That might work. Twofer.
Tom could hear birds flapping about in the night sky... but he couldn't see them.
Trippy. But neat.
A few birds landed near Max, visible in the light of the torch. Others were appearing near the braziers along the wall.
Max opened his eyes and gave a nod.
Tom set the marble on top of his mace. It fit into a little gap between the "blades" that stuck out.
He swept his hand about in a showy fashion... just for fun, before casting the spell at the marble.
A bright point appeared on top of his mace, growing brighter until the whole of it was washed with light, the mace appearing to be made of nothing but golden light.
Bursts of light flew from it, soaring into the air and twisting this way and that... each struck a different one of his soldiers, and each that was hit was lit by golden light for a moment, a ghostly halo and pair of wings sprouting from them before fading.
The rippling effect caused a wave of golden light to wash across the wall, lighting them all in turn.
And showing an unwholesome number of black birds who had been perfectly hidden in the darkness.
For whatever reason his Bless spell didn't hit those. Just as well, they'd look silly with a second set of wings.
Each soldier had a bonus to their accuracy, their physical defense, magical defense, and resistance to poison and disease just because it was a package deal.
The buff he received seemed to be exactly what the spell offered... but casting it with the marble had given the single target spell to all of his allies. Thirty some people.
Well... less now.
Still, kind of ridiculous. And it was more for show anyway. If wings and halos weren't god shit, he didn't know what was.
Men below were crying out. Tom hazarded a glance over the side.
Crows and ravens were laying into defenders everywhere. They swung at the birds, but it was simple enough for them to flit out of the way, into the sky, only to return and peck more.