He glanced up at the sky and estimated that it was some hours before dawn. There was no time to lose. His heart pounding, he slipped away from his animals—they would have to fend for themselves while he was gone. He trotted along a path only he and the other boy shepherds knew. Once well out of sight of the animals, he began to run as fast as he could through the long grass, nettles, and brambles that tore at his bare legs.
Kostas arrived at the village outskirts to find that there was no one to challenge him. He shouted as he ran among the huts and finally found two of the guards who should have been further out keeping watch. Both had been asleep.
“What is it?” they demanded gruffly of the breathless boy, who pointed behind him. “P-pirates! They are coming!” he gasped.
“You sure?” One of the guards demanded skeptically, but he pushed his mate. “Go and warn the captains, now!” he ordered, and then seized the boy by the arm. “You’re not playing the fool now are you, Kostas?” he growled.
“No! Do you think I would leave my sheep unguarded for a joke? They are coming. There are many of them! Ouch, you’re hurting me!” The boy wriggled free and ran off. “Sound the alarm! It’s real!” he yelled.
The guard shook his head. Pirates! “Dear God, is there never peace from these people!” he muttered, then began to run and shout, “Alarm! Pirates! Go to the harbor!”
People came to their doors, bewildered and rubbing sleep from their eyes. “What is it? Who? Where?” they demanded.
“To the west, at least that is what Kostas is saying. Go to the harbor! Hurry!” the guard shouted.
By this time the second guard had alerted the men who guarded the houses where the captains slept. Henry, Guy, and their men tumbled groggily out of bed and scrambled into their clothes.
“Are there ships? Did the castle send up a flare? Where are they coming from?” Henry bellowed, as he ran outside with his jacket only half on.
“The boy said they were coming overland, Captain. They are going to be here very soon.”
“Get everyone we can onto the ships. Move!” Guy shouted. His men rushed off to obey. Already there were people hurrying onto the quayside with small bundles of belongings. Sleepy and frightened children were wailing, while their mothers tried to hush them. Some families even had their domestic animals in tow.
An excited donkey began to bray; sheep bleated in panic while dogs barked, adding to the general sense of chaos, alarm and peril.
“No animals! Leave them, leave them behind or we leave you!” Guy shouted at a stubborn villager. “Get all the women and children onto the boats. You men, get over here with my guards and form a group.” The village men had brought spears and some shields, for Talon and Reza had decided some time ago that the village should be able to defend itself and had provided arms and training. Even so, Henry was fully aware that they would be no match for a large band of determined pirates.
“Guy!” he called over to his friend. “How many men-at-arms do we have? Other than crew.”
Guy looked around the busy quayside. “Ten at best, and the villagers, which brings us to about thirty able men. Some of the fishermen are gone out fishing already.”
Henry cursed under his breath. “We keep the men here on the street with us, but send a rider to alert Max!”
Guy nodded and detailed off a young man, who rushed off to the stables to saddle a horse. Within minutes the lad was galloping up the track to the castle on the mountain. “I wish we had rockets that could warn them up there, as they can us,” Henry muttered, but then he had an idea.
“Nico, you know how to use the scorpion, don’t you?” he called to one of his crewmen, who was helping some women and children onto his ship.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Get two men and load it, then point it as high as you can. Send off a rocket! Now!” Henry yelled. The man darted away, pulling two other crewmen with him. That was going to take a while. Meanwhile the women, young children and older people were being hustled onto the three ships tied alongside the quay. All they had to do was to stand off from the shore, but they needed to hurry. The nervous husbands and youths were being shepherded into squads on the quayside.
Guy grabbed a passing man-at-arms. “Find another man, and go tell the guards in the two towers to make their Scorpions ready for a possible attack from the sea, and to lock themselves in. Then get back here; we need every man,” he ordered.
The wide-eyed man rushed off to tell another, and the two of them scampered towards the squat, almost completed towers that dominated the entrance of the harbor.
Henry shook his head. He was sure he knew who it was who was bringing the pirates. Abul-Zinad had returned. He couldn’t help thinking that if Talon or Reza had been in command of such a raid, they would have made a better go of it. They would have sent in burning fishing boats to ignite the moored ships, and stealthy scouts to neutralize the towers before making any kind of land attack. He was very, very glad Abul-Zinad had not done so.
If the pirates cannot hear this noise they are as deaf as stones! Henry thought, as he looked over the milling, wailing, shouting crowd on the quayside. Just then there was a gasp from one of the villagers, who called out, “Fire! God help us, the pirates are here!” The man pointed to the east of the village, where a glow of light that did not come from the moon was beginning to grow.
Henry whirled. “Form the men up here with me!” he bellowed. “Shield wall, now!” Men ran to assemble in a ragged line, facing one of the two eastern exits that led onto the quay. Their shields were interlocked and the front row had spears pointing up, while the second row placed their shields overlapping those of the front row and held their spears at the ready. Men who lacked spears clustered on the wings, fingering their swords, axes, and clubs. Henry was pleased that no one stabbed anyone else by accident this time. During the drills, small accidents had occurred frequently. They finally managed to sort themselves, then Henry and one of his lieutenants guided them so that they were stood wall to wall between two buildings.
Guy followed suit with his group of men, so that both entrances to the harbor were now blocked by armed men. This tactic had been worked out with Talon some time ago. His experience in Byzantium during a huge battle against the Turks had convinced him that a shield wall could be effective, even with relatively inexperienced troops.
Henry looked behind him. Almost all the women and children were now aboard, and the ships’ crews were waiting for his orders. “Push off into the middle of the harbor!” Henry called to his coxswain. “All the boats. Arm the Scorpions.” He turned his gaze to the east and noticed that the red, flaring glow had become more intense. Anyone who had been left behind must now seek the shelter of the castle or the forest. He could do no more for the village.
There was a sizzling sound, then a loud twang, and an object rushed up into the sky overhead. His men had fired the ship’s Scorpion. Villagers gasped and cringed, and some even wailed with fright, but Henry looked up and clenched his fist.
“Pray the infernal thing goes off in the air!” he muttered, as the rocket arced into the sky. Just as Henry thought it might fall to the ground, there was a bright flash that lit up the sky over the village, followed by an explosion. The sound reverberated over the village, causing more cries of dismay. The donkey jerked desperately at its rope and brayed with fright, the goats bleated and bolted down the empty streets, and the villagers on the ships wailed. The men around Henry murmured and crossed themselves.
Henry and Guy exchanged grins of savage glee. Life had become just a little boring up to this night. “If that doesn’t scare the life out of the brigands, I don’t know what will!” Guy shouted to Henry.
*****
High up on the mountain, the castle of Kantara perched on a long ridge overlooking both the southern plains and the harbor. The two guards on the north side were sleepy and bored, but they were also keeping an eye open for their Sergeant Palladius, who might appear at any time and berate them for not being a
lert.
One of the two men lifted his tunic and began to urinate over the parapet. “You better watch out the Sergeant doesn’t catch you at it!” the other said. The moon threw everything into sharp relief, and he stared out at the sea to the North and the dark patch of the harbor. He realized that if he squinted he could even see the tiny shapes of the ships in the water. Then he started with surprise. “Oi, what’s that?” A small flash and a distant boom had come from just above the village.
Then they noticed an orange glow emanating from the area of the harbor. “Oh, Lord! There’s trouble down there!” The second man forgot what he was doing and stepped back. “Damn and stab me with a spoon!” he exclaimed in disgust as he wet himself. But then the urgency of what they were seeing took hold.
“We’ve got to sound the alarm!”
The first guard began to run off and called out, “I’ll go. Stay here and keep an eye on the village.”
He ran down the steps, shouting and yelling at the top of his voice. “Alarm! Alarm! Attack!”
Palladius stumbled out of the guardhouse to confront him just as he arrived at the entrance.
“What is it? Where is it?” he demanded, hastily buttoning up his jacket.
“There is a fire down at the village, Sergeant, but something else too. There was a flash and a bang. Never seen anything like it down there before.”
Palladius suspected that he knew. He threw a glance at the sky, which was just beginning to lighten in the east; the moon was fading to a pale white. He made a decision.
“Go to the keep and wake everyone up: servants, the ladies, and especially Sir Max. And the Lord Rostam. Hurry!”
He turned back to the barrack room to arm himself. Just as he did so, two of Reza’s ghosts appeared beside him. He gave an involuntary start. They scared the shit out of him, these people, but they were on his side, and that was all that mattered. He recognized Junayd and Dar’an; there was a third lurking about in the background.
“What is going on, Sarg’ant?” Dar’an asked him in poor Greek.
“There is an alarm, Dar’an. The men on the parapet saw what might have been a rocket, Sir.” Palladius was always respectful to these men.
Dar’an nodded, and the three men sped off. Palladius watched them leap the steps to the northern parapet, taking them two at a time. He shook his shoulders and shivered, Phantoms! Then he turned back to his own responsibilities.
“Get up and form a line!” he shouted unnecessarily to the already bustling men-at-arms inside the barracks. Within a few moments they were assembled, and he detailed them off to their positions along the walls to join the night guards already there. By which time, Max came striding out of the main hall, strapping on his sword.
“What is going on, Sergeant? Why the alarm?”
“The men on the walls saw what they think was a rocket above the village, Sir Max. I suspect an attack. There might even be a fire.”
Max glanced up at the manned walls. “You did the right thing. Good man. Come, we must check this for ourselves.”
The two men hurried up the steps and joined Reza’s phantoms, who were staring intently towards the village and harbor to the north. They were joined by Rostam, who had heard the commotion and was eager to know what was happening. He greeted the others quietly.
“See, there is a fire,” Dar’an murmured and pointed. “The guards said they saw a flash of light and heard an explosion over the village. It might be that Henry wanted to attract our attention and used a Scorpion to do so.”
Max nodded agreement. “Very glad that he did. Well now, we are awake, and I hope we can be of some use.”
Palladius, who was still glowing from the rare praise from Max, pointed to the road that curved up the hillside. “There is a horseman, Sir Max. He seems to be in a hurry.”
“Go and let him in, Sergeant, and bring him to me,” Max ordered.
It took some long minutes for the horseman to arrive at the gates, which were immediately opened by Palladius and his men. Palladius escorted the excited youth to Max while his men shut the gates and saw to the exhausted animal, which was lathered with sweat.
The youth went down on one knee before Max. “Pirates have come, Sir!” he blurted without waiting to be asked.
“Tell me all you know,” Max ordered.
The youth told him what Henry had been doing with the villagers, and how they were getting everyone onto the ships.
“Max turned to Dar’an. “So it is confirmed. We must send some kind of signal to tell Henry and Guy that we know and will be providing reinforcements.”
Dar’an grinned. “I shall take care of that for you, Max.” He gestured for Junayd should stay with Max, but took Nasuh and Dar’an with him.
Grimly, the men on the battlements watched the distant, spreading glow of fire.
Some time later, there came a whoosh from above their heads and a rocket tore into the sky above. It left a trail of sparks behind it, and then burst high in the night, a bright flash that would most certainly be seen by everyone in the harbor and the village. Then there was a quiet patter of approaching feet, as Rostam and the others returned.
“We must not forget the other villagers who are on the slopes by the vineyards,” Rostam reminded everyone.
“No. That is why we must muster who we can and get ourselves on the road to protect them,” Max responded. “You’ll come with me, Rostam?”
“Try to stop me, Max,” the boy said with a laugh. “I think we must hurry, though.”
“Then we must arm ourselves and prepare to leave very soon,” Max replied. “We need to inform your mother and your aunt first.”
Henry and Guy saw the signal and understood its message, but their attention was fixed on their own predicament. They faced at least a hundred well armed men who were boiling into the streets ahead of them, with the clear intent of breaking through and ravaging the buildings along the quayside, then taking the ships.
Their yells of victory at their easy access to the village itself had emboldened them, even as the lack of human prey infuriated them. They had fired several houses, which now burned furiously in the grey light of dawn. Guy worried that the entire village would catch fire, or that the pirates would burn everything out of sheer spite, but there was nothing he could do. They had to defend what they could.
“Brace yourselves!” Guy shouted to the men. Most of them were unfamiliar with the scrimmage of battle, but they were backed by some of the veteran crew and the men-at-arms. His shield wall, such as it was, appeared very weak to Guy. He shrugged; it would have to do.
Shouting, “Allah akbar!” The pirates charged along the narrow street, brandishing spears and swords and screaming battle cries, and hurled themselves at his flimsy shield wall. To Guy’s astonishment it held.
“Hold! Hold fast!” he roared, then shoved his big frame into the middle of the shield wall and rammed a spear straight into the belly of one of the foremost pirates.
“Hold the line!” he bellowed, and his men took up the chant. “Hold the wall! Hold! Hold! Hold!” They shouted with increasing confidence and stabbed at any face or chest that came too close.
The men in the front found themselves face to face with the surge of angry pirates, who rushed forward only to be stopped by the line of interlocked shields bristling with spears that jabbed out at them, drawing blood and wounding many.
Guy’s men cursed and spat, some even voiding themselves with fear, but they held the line. Where possible, those who were wounded were dragged back out of the scrimmage, while corsairs who fell were savagely stabbed to death where they lay. Some of the more fanatical pirates tried to leap up onto the shields and cut their way through, but the second line of spears met them and skewered them or cut at their legs, whereupon they tumbled to the ground and were finished off.
“God almighty!” Guy swore, utterly surprised at how effective the tactic was proving. “It works! Go for them, men! Hold the line!”
The frustrated pirates cu
rsed and howled and hacked with their swords, some of which bent or even broke on the shields, but they were making no headway. They could not flank the line because of the walls of the mud brick buildings, and so their corpses piled up in front of the two thin walls of shields. But it was not all in favor of the men from Kantara. During the pushing and shoving where men were so close they could almost bite one another, a pirate would stab across the gap, and someone would fall back with an agonized cry, with an eye missing or a newly gashed face.
Psellos, the Greek priest with the misshapen face who had been one of the victims of Lord Châtillon’s visit to the island, had joined the group. He called out to Henry over the din of the fighting, “They are my flock, Henry. I must fight with them.”
At one point, Psellos popped his head up to see down the street and came face to face with a pirate. The startled man took one look at the grotesque face glaring at him and almost fainted with horror. Psellos took advantage of the man’s hesitation and rapped him over the head with a club.
“Be at peace, my son,” he intoned. The pirate fell unconscious at his feet, and Psellos ducked back down behind his shield. His villagers, crushed alongside him shoulder to shoulder, howled their approval and gained heart. But then arrows began to whisper in, and men began to fall.
Henry and Guy had their own archers standing at the back of the shield wall. “Archers!” Guy yelled. “Kill those men!” He pointed to the pirate bowmen at the side of the unruly mob. Their own arrows flew, and not a few found their mark.
Henry felt someone tugging at is sleeve. “What is it?” he demanded impatiently.
“Look behind you, Captain!”
Henry whirled. He noticed his ship was very close to the quayside and directly in line with the street. “Why is that ship so close?” He demanded. “Is he..?” he asked the dripping wet crew member who had juts swum to shore.
“Yes, Captain. Nico asks that you and your men get out of the way and then he will loose the Scorpion.”
Storms of Retribution Page 28