cries. Ullsaard had joined the front rank of the first company at the head of the attack.
'Keep moving! Fast advance!' bellowed Ullsaard as a spear flashed past him only a few paces away, punching through a legionnaire's shoulder to send him spinning to the ground. The other soldiers quickly stepped in to fill the gap. Speed would be their best defence.
Drummers sounded the order and the legion, company by company, broke into a trot, spears on their shoulders. More bolts crashed through the ranks but the legionnaires ignored their dead and wounded and pressed onwards with their general.
A cloud of arrows flew up from the rampart ahead. The second captains bellowed commands to form a shield wall and the legionnaires closed in around Ullsaard. The front rank held their shields to the front, while the men further back created a roof with theirs. Though this provided greater protection against the arrows, it slowed down their advance. Ullsaard winced as shafts thudded around and above him, a few finding gaps to bite into flesh. Volley after volley descended on them as they tramped towards the gatehouse, leaving a trail of injured men.
An arrowhead split the wood of Ullsaard's shield and cut his forearm. Blood dribbled from the slight wound, dripping down the inside of his shield onto his leg. He ignored it and glanced around the side of his shield to see how far they were from the gatehouse.
Less than two hundred paces.
'Sound the charge!' he roared. Around him, the shield wall fell apart and the company broke into a run.
The horns sounded the order. This was no barbaric sprint into combat, but a controlled increase of speed. The legionnaires loped along at an easy pace, mud churning up beneath their feet, keeping to their ranks while more arrows whistled overhead.
The first company angled their run towards the gate tower to the right, while the second company split to the left. Ullsaard kept his focus on the archway at the base of the tower. He could see crates and timber had been piled onto the stairs within. More arrows fell on them as they reached the foot of the wall and burst towards the open archway.
'Clear this shit out of the way,' rasped Anasind, a little to Ullsaard's right. The First Captain turned to shout at the third company who were following behind. 'Shields up!'
They hefted up their shields to form a protective barrier over the heads of the first company, while those legionnaires began to pull apart the impromptu barricade. Planks and barrels were passed from man to man beneath the shield roof, to be thrown out to each side to keep the path clear. Archers stationed inside the tower loosed their shafts into the men clearing the debris, but those that were injured quickly withdrew to allow others to continue, while the bodies of the dead were tossed out of the way like any other junk.
Behind the assaulting companies, others were defending the lava-throwers. Protected by the shields of their covering companies, the crews worked their machines and unleashed gouts of black and red fire at the ramparts above the gates. The charred corpses of bowmen fell from the Wall to crash into the mud while the hideous shrieking of the survivors rang down the tower steps.
'Push on!' Ullsaard ordered, clambering over pieces of broken furniture and bundles of ragged bedding. 'No duties for ten days for the company that takes the tower!'
Though the path was not fully clear, the first company surged into the tower, the second company eagerly on their heels. Ullsaard raced up the steps, flanked by two legionnaires. They were met halfway by soldiers coming down, spears jabbing at the attackers.
Ullsaard used his spear to batter away the weapons of his opponents and leaped up the steps two at a time, crashing into the opponents ahead with his shield as a battering ram. He dropped his spear and pulled his sword out to blindly hack left and right. Caught between the swordsman in their midst and the spears of the first company, the Wall garrison were forced to retreat up the steps, but Ullsaard would not let them create the space they needed, following up with hacking swings that shattered the shafts of their spears and left rents in their shields.
Ullsaard could see the sky behind the press of men ahead and knew he was not far from the rampart. He took another step but the enemy came towards him, pushed down the stairs by more men pouring into the tower from above.
Ullsaard was forced back two steps, and his foot slipped from under him in a puddle of blood. He swung his sword wildly as he fell, catching one of his foes across the chin with its tip before he rolled down into the feet of his own men. Two legionnaires helped to him his feet as the rest pressed ahead, forming a solid wall of shields across the narrow stairway.
Panting, Ullsaard leaned back against the wall and let more men rush past to take up the fight. In the scrum of the melee he spied Anasind. The First Captain looked worried, but Ullsaard raised his sword to show that he was unhurt. Anasind nodded his understanding and disappeared into the throng of legionnaires, bellowing encouragement.
Shouts of alarm echoed from the top of the tower and Ullsaard guessed that Donar's men had reached the rampart to coldwards or the other gate tower had been taken. Whatever the cause, the defenders' resistance collapsed as they turned to run.
With triumphant shouts, the Thirteenth boiled up the stairwell onto the rampart, stabbing anyone left in their path. Ullsaard pushed through the crowd of soldiers as they spread coldwards along the Wall, finishing off the wounded their enemies had left behind. Ullsaard stepped to the inner edge of the rampart and looked hotwards to see the second company were fighting hard but had gained the rampart. Beyond them, further along the Wall, Jutiil's men advanced towards the gatehouse with spears ready.
Some of the defenders threw down their shields and weapons in surrender, but they were cut down mercilessly. A great many jumped from the Wall to escape, most of them landing with bone-cracking impacts. They too were swiftly despatched by the rear companies; the few lucky men that survived the jump were allowed to limp away with laughs and jeers ringing in their ears. Ullsaard could imagine his men thought it bad form to cut down a man who had survived such a death-defying leap.
XII
As pairs of legionnaires tossed the bodies of the dead off the rampart, Ullsaard called for Luamid and Rondin. The two First Captains shouldered their way through the press of soldiers occupying the gatehouse.
'Raid two towers cold- and hotwards and see what supplies you can get. Don't take too long. And remind Anasind that First Company took the gatehouse. They'll appreciate ten days of soft duties!'
The captains saluted and left, leaving Ullsaard alone amidst the maelstrom.
'General?'
He turned to see a legionnaire holding Ullsaard's goldenheaded spear. The man's face was streaked with grime and sweat, his left eye closed by a vicious bruise. His good eye was wide with reverence. 'You left this behind, General.'
'What's your name?' Ullsaard said, taking the weapon. 'Which company?'
'Cobiunnin, General,' replied the legionnaire. 'Third Company. Thirteenth.'
'Thank you, Cobiunnin. Tell Captain Anasind that Third Company is excused camp duties for the next two days. Make sure you tell your friends why.'
'Thanks, General!' Cobiunnin replied with a broad grin. He headed back towards his company, shouting the names of his friends. Ullsaard watched as Cobiunnin announced the news. The other legionnaires clapped their comrade on the back and raised their spears to Ullsaard in thanks.
Ullsaard felt tired. He took off his helmet and rubbed a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the golden-threaded banner of Aalun. The prince rode through the Askhan dead with Noran by his side, a bodyguard of kolubrid riders in a circle around him. The two men tugged hard on the reins of their mounts when they stopped to sniff or paw the corpses.
Ullsaard turned his back to Aalun, to Askh, and looked out across the hills to duskwards, pushing everything else from his mind. The rain fell steadily, obscuring the distant mountains in murk, and nothing could be seen of the Greenwater and Narun.
It didn't matter. Out there was open country. Nemtun would never catch them before winter. Ullsaard was pleased. Victory in the first battle of a war was always a good omen. He took a deep breath, savouring the air,
