"Let us go!" was all Ullin replied as he strode out into the road.
So they followed. Robby did not expect this any more than the rest and could only shrug at the questions he was asked. Ullin led them through Passdale, down the road, and across the bridge. He turned them northward, cutting through the woods and fields here and there, then back upon the path. Through streams and over craggy hills he marched until they came to Weepingbrook, and he waded through it to the other side and up the bank. On and on they went, turning now southward across more fields and into a clearing. There, Ullin stopped.
"Answer when your name is called out," he told them. "Mr. Ribbon, call the roll, strike any name not answered, and give me the count of who's left."
This Robby did.
"Forty-two!" he said at the end of his reckoning.
"Forty-two!" Ullin repeated, then he turned to continue on.
All morning he walked them around Barley, until, nearly noon, they came suddenly upon the river road along the banks of the Bentwide.
"Rest!" he called and sat down on a log. After a few moments he stood up. "Call the roll!"
Robby did so once more.
"Thirty-seven!"
Down the banks of the Bentwide, through the shallow water, and up the other side they went. They plunged into the woods and up into the hills. When they reached the top of the ridge of hills, nearly an hour later, Robby recognized the place where he so often came to meditate. Ullin took another count.
"Thirty-three!"
They went down the path familiar to Robby and along the road and back to the Common House where Robby once again called the roll.
"Thirty-three!" Ullin announced. "You have shown yourselves to be hearty and determined. There is food and refreshment inside. Eat. And we will talk about our militia."
That was how they began. Ullin explained their duties: to patrol the region, to be ready to ward off any hostile intruders, and to be on call to perform any duties fit for the militia. Any who could not abide taking orders or who failed in training would be excluded from the militia, and no man that had any debt could join. Until other arrangements could be made, each was responsible for his own clothes and food and fodder for his own horse, when needed. They would be required to perform hard work, hard training, and to spend time away from their homes, shops, farms, and families. They would earn nothing in return, except perhaps the gratitude of their neighbors.
"My duty is to train you and to lead you. I will teach you the use of weapons, how to fight and kill the enemy, how to avoid being killed, and how to work together. When under my command, you will answer to me, or to other officers I may appoint, and to no one else. Your training will be hard, and, since we are a small force, I will demand much of you. If you cannot be trained, if you cannot take orders and carry them out correctly, or if you do not come when summoned, you will be expelled from the militia and shame will be upon you. Think on all this tonight. If you still desire to be a militiaman, you are to be here tomorrow at dawn to sign your enlistment papers and to take an oath of service."
The next day, all thirty-three showed up. They were sworn before the council to obey their commanders, to defend the region, to act at all times in the best interests of the region, to show no mercy to their enemies, and to be loyal and faithful to one another. With that, the training began in earnest. Ullin introduced them to the battle sword, lance, and shield, and explained to them the purpose of marching in close order and in step. He explained how the bell would signal to them: A slow toll, spaced at about a half-minute between sets of three quick tolls, as the regular call for the militia to gather, and a steady uninterrupted tolling as an emergency call to arms. He ordered that each person should come alone at a certain hour for individual instruction, and they would all be required to report every night two hours before dusk for group training.
Thus, from sun to moon, Ullin's days were spent training each member of the Passdale Militia, more often than not with Robby as an assistant. In this manner, Robby learned quickly, for not only was he himself instructed by Ullin, but he learned from the instruction of others, too. In addition, he learned something of orders, reports, dispatches, and planning from Ullin. As often as possible, Ullin arranged to have meals for his men, too, and as they all ate together, he talked to them of battle and arms, of the right behavior of a faithful soldier, of having honor in battle even when courage fails, and of the times when mercy was right, brave, and noble, and of the times when giving quarter was foolhardy and treacherous.
While the men and boys of Passdale thus trained, Sheila was asked to go to Boskland to instruct those men in the use of the bow, so Robby saw even less of her than before. They had hardly spoken, except for the usual morning and evening greetings, for nearly a month, and now Robby found that he missed even those brief moments. While his heart ached for her, he did not have much time to meditate on it. As well as assisting Ullin with training, the Kingsman also had him running errands, keeping the roll, and even tutoring some members of the militia on their letters, for, as Ullin said, "Instructions may need to be given in written orders, and it would be a poor soldier who could not make them out."
Ullin divided the militia up into squads of about five men each, and each night a squad was to stay at the Common House barracks to keep watch and await orders. Additionally, twice every week, the entire militia stayed the night. In this way, there was always a presence of the militia at the Common House, and there was always a watch on the roof and at the doors.
"This is to be our armoury," Ullin explained. "If the enemy takes this place, he takes all of Passdale."
Two weeks into their training, two new volunteers arrived in the persons of Billy Bosk and Ibin Brinnin. Billy wanted to be a part of the Boskland militia. However, Mr. Bosk, fearing accusations of favoritism, opposed having his son serve in the ranks. So Billy and Ibin came to Passdale to volunteer for service. Everyone knew of Billy's fighting ability, but Ullin was reluctant.
"How will you answer the call in time?" he asked.
"Well," Billy explained, "Ibin an' me'll take up livin' over at the weaver's, who is me uncle on me mum's side, an' who has given us the little cottage out back of his place. It's awful run-down, but close by. For livin', Ibin an' meself have been taken on by Mrs. Greardon to help out at the mill, which also is close by."
"I see," Ullin said. "What skill at arms do you have?"
"I'm a right fair swordsman," Billy said, raising his fists as if to box, "but I specialize in up close handiwork. An' Ibin here, why he's a regular ox, as ye can see, an' can take on four er five ordinary men like swattin' flies."
"We'll see," Ullin said. "I agree only if you can keep up with us on today's march and then match staffs with whosoever I pick to go against you."
Billy and Ibin proved themselves eager and energetic, and it heartened Robby to have them along the march. When they returned to the Common House, Ullin himself tested their skills with staff and sword. He found Billy to be nimble and quick, but somewhat uncoordinated, whereas Ibin was slow but powerful.
"Passing, I would say," he finally admitted. "Particularly since you have had no training to speak of. If you'll take the oath, we will have you. But you will have to work extra hard to get your skills to be the equal of the others."
So, in that manner, Robby was reunited with two of his best friends. The rest of the Passdale men were glad to have them, too, for Billy's tough reputation had at one time or another been proven against most of the noses and chins present, and none of them could gainsay having the sheer mass of Ibin at their side. The two took to the training rather well, learned to obey orders and to understand the bell signals, though Ibin preferred the "little bell" as opposed to the "big bell," the former being the little triangle that was rung as a call to meals.
A few nights later, the whole militia was ordered to stay over at the Common House to take part in a full evening of training and to get an early rise for even more training at dawn. After a long session
of instruction lasting well into the night, Ullin showing them over and over again the use of tight formations to resist an attack, the militiamen turned in to their bunks next to the armoury room in the basement. They were full of talk and high spirits, and, though tired from the day's exertions, not so worn out that they could not break out cards and dice, and one fellow lightly strummed a guitar that he had somehow managed to smuggle into the barracks. Billy's presence was a boost, since all appreciated his scrappiness, if not his playful spirit.
"So is it true ye fought with the Dragonkind man?" one of the youngest militiamen asked of him. "An' yer ol' man piked his head to the Bosk Manor gate?"
"Aye! An' a fierce fighter he was!" And off Billy went on a great telling of the epic fight. Most of the group pressed in to hear the tale, many of whom had already heard it once or twice, for at each telling it seemed a mightier battle than before. Just as Billy began, Ullin burst through the door.
"Lights out! Mouths shut! Sleep!" he yelled at them sternly. "Or else you'll wish you had picked another commander to spite!"
That broke up the gathering and soon all were in their bunks. Robby, whose cot was beside Billy's, turned and whispered, "Billy."
"Aye?"
"Have you seen Sheila?"
"Aye."
"How is she? Is she well? "
"She's well. Very busy, though, if me ol' man's got any say."
"I see."
"Ye'll see her again," Billy said.
Robby nodded and closed his eyes. Long after the snores of his comrades ceased to bother him, he was still awake. When sleep at last came, it was deep and dark, and Robby sank to its bottom.
Suddenly the door of the barracks slammed open, and Ullin was banging a sword against a shield.
"Awake and to arms! To arms! Dress and to arms!" he cried. "Intruders in Barley, and we must away! Mr. Ribbon!"
"Yes, sir!?" Robby answered, struggling to get his boots on. "Coming!"
"Have the men armed with swords, shields, and lances. Muster in the parade yard! Double quick! Let's go! Let's go!"
"Yes, sir!"
Soon they were scrambling in earnest for their weapons, Robby handing out a lance to each as they passed through the door. There were lots of questions and shouting and stepping on each other's feet as they went, but they poured out of the Common House and into the side yard to muster in quick order. Ullin had lit several tall braziers in the yard, and the militiamen formed a line facing him, just as they had been taught.
"Mr. Ribbon, if you please," said Ullin.
"Yes, sir," answered Robby stepping up.
"Be so good as to read this to the company," he said, giving Robby a piece of parchment and shining a lamp on it. Robby took the note and cleared his throat.
" 'A party of twenty marauders crossed the bridge at Tulith Attis at midnight," he read. "They make for Passdale on horseback at slow pace, seeking to come upon the town before dawn. If ye proceed to meet them, I will lead me men at their rear, and we will have them trapped between us.' It is signed, 'Bosk.' "
"So men," Ullin immediately took up with a power in his voice of one accustomed to command. "You may not think you are ready for this, but such is our duty, and I know you will rise to it. We march in quick time to the place where the east road toward Weepingbrook leads through the hill near Tully's farm. There, we will await the horsemen, for they cannot turn left or right against the steepness of the banks. And, there, we must stop them every one. For all we know, they are rogues and murderers, come to rape your mothers and sisters and to cut the throats of your fathers and brothers. If we do not stop them, Passdale will be at their mercy. Do you understand?"
"Aye!" the company called back, somewhat unevenly.
"Let no man fail in his duty!" Ullin cried. "Form by twos. No talking, and make no noise to warn of our approach. Let's move!"
Soon they were formed up and quickly marching through Passdale and across the bridge, Ullin and Robby at the lead and then the ranks, with Billy and Ibin near the front.
"Commander, shouldn't someone ring the bell?" Robby asked Ullin. "To raise the alarm?"
"No," Ullin replied. "If the horsemen hear it, they may veer off or scatter at the warning, to regroup and attack Passdale from an unprotected direction. Our best chance is to take them on all together. No more talking."
It was a windy night, and there was a sprinkling of rain as the men and boys of the militia moved nearly at a jog. Their tramp woke a few folk, but any who peered out from their windows must have wondered at the group, shields thrown over their backs, lances in hand, a dark band of shadows moving grimly through the night. Ullin picked up the pace, urging them to stay close and not lose their way on the dark road, and so they trotted the last mile up hill toward Tully's farm. They passed it and continued along until they came to a place where the road, from years of use, had worn a deep trough through the hill. On either side, and for a stretch of nearly forty yards, were twelve-foot banks that rose sharply, slippery with clay and loose gravel. The clouds thinned, and somewhere behind them, Lady Moon peeked from behind her fan and by her low light gave them some notion of their surroundings.
"Halt!" Ullin called back. "Shields at the ready! Form up by squads. First squad front. Second squad left, third squad right, kneeling shield position. Squads four and five, press in behind. Close up your shields, like so! Squads six and seven rearmost standing. Very well!"
They formed a wall across the road from bank to bank, and Ullin inspected their lines, tightening gaps and pushing and pulling men into their proper places.
"If we had archers we could have them from the heights," someone said.
"But we have none," Ullin snapped back.
"Look!" Robby called to Ullin. He was at the front, on one knee behind his shield, and he pointed.
Down the road, a light approached. There was a distant dull thud of hooves and the sound of clinking metal, too. Ullin drew his sword and stood directly behind Robby.
"Lances!"
At his word, the wall of shields bristled with thirty-five steel-tipped lances angled out at the approaching riders. Now they could be seen, coming at full gallop, torches blazing, hooves striking sparks on the rocks as they came.
"Steady!" Ullin said, loud enough only to be heard by his men. "They cannot pass us if we hold firm. Let the butt end of your lances dig the ground. Care not for the horses. They are the servants of the foe. If any pass the lances, draw swords. Mark your enemy and strike not your fellow!"
Now the riders were full into the gully and were charging down at them, the thunder of the hooves resounding dully against the two sides of the embankment.
Robby shook with fear, his mouth was dry, and he kept trying to swallow. He could hear the rasping pant of the horses as they came, could make them out under the torches held by their riders, but could not see the riders themselves. One of his nearby comrades let out a weak whimper, and at last Robby managed to swallow the lump in his throat.
"Do not yield," Ullin said, his voice calm but firm as the thunderous horsemen bore down upon them. "Show no mercy. Rely upon your training. Push into your opponent with your shield and thrust upward or straight with your shortsword. Thrust hard and stab deep, then take on the next."
"Oh, my, oh my!" someone else said.
One youngster in the back rank suddenly broke away to run, but Billy grabbed his collar and jerked him back into line. "Stand fast, cousin!"
Only the roar of the horses outdid the pounding in Robby's chest. He took quick, shallow breaths, tilted his head down, his eyes fixed on the enemy. As all in his company did, he clenched his lance and shield tightly. They braced for impact.
Only thirty feet away, a brilliant white light burst out from the middle of the road between the two opposing groups. Robby and his friends gasped and instinctively flinched at the painful glare. But under the light stood Ashlord, holding the blinding flame aloft on the end of his walking stick. Squinting, Robby saw the horses grind to a halt on the other
side of Ashlord, rearing and stamping while their riders cursed and yelled.
"Hold firm!" cried Ullin. "We do not know what this means. Hold firm, I say!"
"Halt!" cried Ashlord. "The test is over!"
Then, from the dimness of the side of the road, another figure joined Ashlord, and Robby immediately recognized his father, who now removed a cover from a lantern and held it up.
"Approach, loyal defenders of Passdale and Barley!" Ashlord called out.
"Wait here," Ullin ordered. "Do not yield unless I signal. Let me pass, Robby."
Robby tilted his shield, and Ullin, sword in hand, stepped through the line between the lances and approached Ashlord, still holding the burning flare. From the ranks of horses another figure dismounted and came forward.
"What the hell's the meanin' of this!" Mr. Bosk bellowed as he neared Ashlord. "Whar 'bouts is them raiders?"
"Thar ain't no raiders," Mr. Ribbon replied. "This here's a test."
"A what?"
"With Ashlord's help," Mr. Ribbon went on, "the council decided on a test to set to ye."
"A test!" Ullin cried in dismay. "Many could have been hurt, maimed, even!"
"Aye! An' the alarm of it!" Mr. Bosk joined the protest.
"That may be so," Robby's father said, "but weakness an' strength must be known by thems that risk the treasury an' thems that give to it."
There was a lot of grumbling by all that heard, Bosklander and Passdale troop alike. But Robby was more relieved than anything else.
"An' what if ye'd not made it here in time?" Mr. Bosk went on, leaning into Mr. Ribbon's face. "Both our sons run down!"
"I doubt that," said Ullin. "Or you've never faced lances!"
"What d'ye mean by that! Boskmen ain't no weaklings!"
"Maybe not," replied Ullin coolly, putting his sword away. "Nor are they a match for a wall of steel, sharp as razors. I dare say another thirty yards would have seen a slaughter of Boskmen."
"Yeah!" Billy's voice burst out at his father from within the Passdale pack that by now crowded up behind Ullin in spite of his order. "Ye'd a caught the sharp end of our business!"
The Bellringer Page 42