Magician (56 page)

Horns blew and drums beat, and with
shrieking war cries the Tsurani came. The defenders waited, then as
the attacking host crossed the invisible line marking the outer range
of the castle’s war engines, death rained down upon the
Tsurani. Still they came.

The Tsurani crossed the second
invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s bowmen,
and scores more died. Still they came.

The attackers reached the walls, and
defenders dropped stones and pushed over scaling ladders, dealing out
death to those below Still they came.

Arutha quickly ordered a redeployment
of his reserves, directing them to be ready near the points of
heaviest attack. Men hurried to carry out his orders.

Standing atop the west wall, in the
thick of the fight, Arutha answered attack with attack, repulsing
warrior after warrior as they reached the top of the wall. Even in
the midst of battle, Arutha was aware of the scene around him,
shouting orders, hearing replies, catching glimpses of what others
were doing. He saw Amos Trask, disarmed, strike a Tsurani full in the
face with his fist, knocking the man from the wall Trask then
carefully bent down and picked up his cutlass as if he had simply
dropped it while strolling along the wall. Gardan moved among the
men, exhorting the defenders, bolstering sagging spirits, and driving
the men beyond the point where they would normally have given in to
exhaustion.

Arutha helped two soldiers push away
another scaling ladder, then stared in momentary confusion as one of
the men slowly turned and sat at his feet, surprise on his face as he
looked down at the Tsurani bow-shaft in his chest. The man leaned
back against the wall and closed his eyes as if deciding to sleep for
a time.

Arutha heard someone shout his name
Gardan stood a few feet away, pointing to the north section of the
west wall. “They’ve crested the wall!”

Arutha ran past Gardan, shouting,
“Order the reserves to follow!” He raced along the wall
until he reached the breach in the defenses. A dozen Tsurani held
each end of a section of the wall, pushing forward to clear room for
their comrades to follow. Arutha hurled himself into the front rank,
past weary and surprised guards who were being forced back along the
battlement. Arutha thrust over the first Tsurani shield, taking the
man in the throat. The Tsurani’s face registered shock, then he
keeled over and fell into the courtyard below. Arutha attacked the
man next to the first and shouted, “For Crydee! For the
Kingdom!”

Then Gardan was among them, like a
towering black giant, dealing blows to all who stood before. Suddenly
the men of Crydee pressed forward, a wave of flesh and steel along
the narrow rampart. The Tsurani stood their ground, refusing to yield
the hard-won breach, and to a man were killed.

Arutha struck a Tsurani warrior with
the bell guard of his rapier, knocking him to the ground below, and
turned to find the wall once more in the possession of the defenders.
Horns blew from the Tsurani lines, and the attackers withdrew.

Arutha became aware the sun had cleared
the mountains to the east. The morning had finally come. He surveyed
the scene below and felt suddenly more fatigued than he could ever
remember. Turning slowly, he saw every man on the wall was watching
him. Then one of the soldiers shouted, “Hail, Arutha! Hail,
Prince of Crydee!”

Suddenly the castle was ringing with
shouts as men chanted, “Arutha! Arutha!”

To Gardan, Arutha asked, “Why?”

With a satisfied look the sergeant
replied, “They saw you personally take the fight to the
Tsurani, Highness, or heard from others. They are soldiers and expect
certain things from a commander. They are now truly your men,
Highness.”

Arutha stood quietly as the cheers
filled the castle. Then he raised his hand and the courtyard fell
silent. “You have done well. Crydee is served aright by her
soldiers.” He spoke to Gardan. “Change the watch upon the
walls. We may have little time to enjoy the victory.”

As if his words were an omen, a shout
came from a guard atop the nearest tower. “Highness, ‘ware
the field.”

Arutha saw the Tsurani lines had been
re-formed. Wearily he said, ‘Have they no limit?”

Instead of the expected attack, a
single man walked from the Tsurani line, apparently an officer by his
crested helm. He pointed to the walls, and the entire Tsurani line
erupted in cheers. He walked farther, within bow range, stopping
several times to point at the wall His blue armor glinted in the
morning sun as the attackers cheered with his gestures toward the
castle.

“A challenge?” said Gardan,
watching the strange display as the man showed his back, unmindful of
personal danger, and walked back to his own lines.

“No,” said Amos Trask, who
came to stand next to Gardan “I think they salute a brave
enemy.” Amos shook his head slightly. “A strange people.”

Arutha said, “Shall we ever
understand such men?”

Gardan put his hand upon Arutha’s
shoulder. “I doubt it. Look, they quit the field.”

The Tsurani were marching back toward
their tents before the remains of Crydee town. A few watchmen were
left to observe the castle, but it was clear the main force was being
ordered to stand down again. Gardan said, “I would have ordered
another assault.” His voice betrayed his disbelief. “They
have to know we are near exhaustion. Why not press the attack?”

Amos said, “Who can say. Perhaps
they, too, are tired.”

Arutha said, “This attacking
through the night has some meaning I do not understand.” He
shook his head “In time we will know what they plot. Leave a
watch upon the walls, but have the men retire to the courtyard. It is
becoming clear they prefer not to attack during the day. Order food
brought from the kitchen, and water to bathe with.” Orders were
passed, and men left their posts, some sitting on the walks below the
wall, too tired to trudge down the steps. Others reached the
courtyard and tossed aside their weapons, sitting in the shade of the
battlements while castle porters hurried among them with buckets of
fresh water. Arutha leaned against the wall. He spoke silently to
himself “They’ll be back.”

They came again that night.

W
ounded
men groaned at sunrise.

For the twelfth straight night the
Tsurani had assaulted the castle, only to retire at dawn. Gardan
could not see any clear reason for the dangerous night attacks. As he
watched the Tsurani gathering up their dead, then returning to their
tents, he said, “They are strange. Their archers cannot fire at
the walls once the ladders are up for fear of hitting their own men.
We have no such problem, knowing everyone below is the enemy. I don’t
understand these men.”

Arutha sat numbly washing the blood and
dirt from his face, oblivious to the scene about him. He was too
tired even to answer Gardan. “Here,” a voice nearby said,
and he pulled the damp cloth from his face to see a proffered
drinking cup. He took the cup and drained it in one long pull,
savoring the taste of strong wine.

Carline stood before him, wearing tunic
and trousers, her sword hanging at her side. “What are you
doing here?” Arutha asked, fatigue making his voice sound harsh
in his own ears.

Carline’s manner was brisk.
“Someone must carry water and food. With every man on the walls
all night long, who do you think is fit for duty in the morning? Not
that pitiful handful of porters who are too old for fighting, that is
certain.”

Arutha looked about and saw other
women, ladies of the castle as well as servants and fishwives,
walking among the men, who thankfully took the offered food and
drink. He smiled his crooked smile. “How fare you?”

“Well enough. Still, sitting in
the cellar is as difficult in its own way as being on the wall, I
judge. Each sound of battle that reaches us brings one or another of
the ladies to tears.” Her voice carried a tone of mild
disapproval. “They huddle like rabbits. Oh, it is so tiresome.”
She stood quietly for a moment, then asked, “Have you seen
Roland?”

He looked about. “Last night for
a time.” He covered his face in the soothing wetness of the
cloth. Pulling it away after a moment, he added, “Or perhaps it
was two nights past. I’ve lost track.” He pointed toward
the wall nearest the keep. “He should be over there somewhere.
I put him in charge of the off watch. He is responsible for guarding
against a flank attack.”

Carline smiled She knew Roland would be
chafing to get into the fight, but with his responsibilities it would
be unlikely unless the Tsurani attacked on all sides. “Thank
you, Arutha.”

Arutha feigned ignorance. “For
what?”

She kneeled and kissed his wet cheek.
“For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.” She
stood and walked away.

Roland walked along the battlements,
watching the distant forest beyond the broad clearing that ran along
the eastern wall of the castle. He approached a guard standing next
to an alarm bell and said, “Anything?”

“Nothing, Squire,”

Roland nodded. “Keep a watchful
eye. This is the narrowest open area before the wall. If they come
against a second flank, this is where I would expect the assault.”

The soldier said, “In truth,
Squire. Why do they come only against one wall, and why the
strongest?”

Roland shrugged. “I don’t
pretend to know. Perhaps to show contempt, or bravery. Or for some
alien reason.”

The guard came to attention and
saluted. Carline had come silently up behind them. Roland took her by
the arm and hurried her along. “What do you think you’re
doing up here?” he said in ungentle tones.

Her look of relief at finding him alive
and unhurt turned to one of anger. “I came to see if you were
all right,” she said defiantly.

Guiding her down the stairs to the
courtyard below, he answered, “We’re not so far removed
from the forest a Tsurani bowman could not reduce the Duke’s
household by one. I’ll not explain to your father and brothers
what my reasons were for allowing you up there.”

“Oh! Is that your only reason?
You don’t want to face Father.”

He smiled and his voice softened. “No.
Of course not.”

She returned the smile. “I was
worried.”

Roland sat upon the lower steps and
plucked at some weeds growing near the base of the stones, pulling
them out and tossing them aside. “Little reason for that.
Arutha has seen I’ll not risk much.”

Placatingly, Carline said, “Still,
this is an important post. If they attack here, you’ll have to
hold with a small number until reinforcements come.”

“If they attack. Gardan came by
yesterday, and he thinks they may tire of this soon and dig in for a
long siege, waiting for us to starve.”

She said, “More’s their
hard luck, then. We’ve stores through the winter, and they’ll
find little to forage out there once the snows come.”

Playfully mocking, he said, “What
have we here? A student of tactics?”

She regarded him like an overtaxed
teacher confronted with a particularly slow student. “I listen,
and I have my wits about me. Do you think I do nothing but sit around
waiting for you men to tell me what is occurring? If I did, I’d
know nothing.”

He put up his hands in sign of
supplication. “I’m sorry, Carline You are most definitely
no one’s fool.” He stood and took her hand. “But
you have made me your fool.”

She squeezed his hand. “No,
Roland, I have been the fool. It has taken me almost three years to
understand just how good a man you are. And how good a friend.”
She leaned over and kissed him lightly. He returned the kiss with
tenderness. “And more,” she added quietly.

“When this is over . . .”
he began.

She placed her free hand over his lips.
“Not now, Roland. Not now.”

He smiled his understanding “I’d
best be back to the walls, Carline.”

She kissed him again and left for the
main courtyard and the work to be done. He climbed back to the wall
and resumed his vigil.

It was late afternoon when a guard
shouted, “Squire! In the forest!” Roland looked in the
indicated direction and saw two figures sprinting across the open
ground. From the trees the shouts of men came, and the clamor of
battle.

Crydee bowmen raised their weapons,
then Roland shouted, “Hold! It’s Longbow!” To the
guard next to him he said, “Bring ropes, quickly.”

Longbow and Garret reached the wall as
the ropes were being lowered and, as soon as they were secured,
scrambled upward. When they were safely over the walls, they sank
exhaustedly behind the battlements. Waterskins were handed the two
foresters, who drank deeply.

“What now?” asked Roland.

Longbow gave him a lopsided smile. “We
found another band of travelers heading northward about thirty miles
southeast of here and arranged for them to visit with the Tsurani.”

Garret looked up at Roland with eyes
darkly circled from fatigue. “A band he calls it. Damn near
five hundred moredhel moving in strength. Must have been a full
hundred chasing us through the woods the last two days.”

Roland said, “Arutha will be
pleased. The Tsurani have hit us each night since you left. We could
do with a little diverting of their attentions.”

Longbow nodded. “Where’s
the Prince?”

“At the west wall, where all the
fighting’s been.”

Longbow stood and pulled the exhausted
Garret to his feet. “Come along. We’d better report.”

Roland instructed the guards to keep a
sharp watch and followed the two huntsmen. They found Arutha
supervising the distribution of weapons to those in need of replacing
broken or dulled ones. Gardell, the smith, and his apprentices
gathered up those that were reparable and dumped them into a cart,
heading for the forge to begin work.