The Fire In His Hands

ways of life now seemed alien. “What the Wahlig wants is a low-risk assault on these fortifications. We’re likely to have little luck with the New Castle. It’s up to modern standards and it’s in good repair. The old castle isn’t. It’ll be our primary target.

“We’ll build a variety of siege engines, beginning with trebuchets and mangonels. We’ll start gathering suitable stones, lumber and so forth, right away.

“We’ll work on the old castle wall a few yards to the left of the barbican. That’s a recent addition, and they weakened the wall during construction.

“I’ll want to keep several things going at once. Especially some obvious practice with scaling ladders, turtles, rams and siege towers. We’ll build the turtles right away and bunch them in the meadow as close to the old castle as we can. We’ll use them to conceal the head of a mine we’ll run under the weak section of wall. We’ll dispose of the earth at night.”

Radetic’s siege strategy was extensive. It would require every available body, including Fuad’s prisoners. But as he revealed it, the faces of Yousif’s officers darkened. He was asking warriors to do the work of slaves. It was beneath their dignity. He considered their hostile faces. “Haroun,” he whispered, “fetch your father.”

The Wahlig did his convincing for him.

Yousif came to Megelin three days later, while Radetic was inspecting his projects. “How long till you drop that wall, Megelin? We’re running out of time. Nassef should be on his way by now.” There was little force in the Wahlig’s voice. He seemed dazed.

“I’m having trouble. The soft earth doesn’t run all the way to the foundations. I’m running a mine to the New Castle, too, but I don’t have much hope for it. Those walls were engineered by westerners. You can tell that from the camber of the base.”

“What?”

“The way it slopes out at the bottom. Instead of coming straight down. It increases the thickness and coherence of the wall, making mining difficult.”

“Nevertheless, Megelin.”

“Yes, Wahiig. We’ll persist. Any news from Al Rhemish?”

Yousif became more sour. His lined, rugged, aquiline face darkened. “The messenger returned an hour ago.”

Radetic watched as his hastily constructed trebuchets hurled a barrage against the old castle. One of the engines groaned and fell apart. The rocks rumbled against the castle. The wall shuddered. A merlon stone slid off the battlements and plunged downward. Cracks had begun to show in the wall. “The engines might be enough. If I can keep them working. What’s the bad news?”

“Aboud says we have to chase Nassef off the coast. He was pretty definite about it.”

“Did he have any suggestions? How much help is he going to send?”

“None. And no ideas either. Just a flat-out order to do the job.”

Radetic peered at Yousif. The Wahlig’s face had gone gray with despair.

“This is the beginning of the end, Megelin. Unless you can produce a miracle here. They’ve abandoned us.”

Radetic thought he understood. “You could pretend the letter never arrived. You can’t commit suicide.”

“Megelin, I can’t. I’m a man of honor. I don’t think I could explain that to a westerner. Even a westerner who has been around as long as you. You see my men there? They know I’m fighting a losing battle. But they stick with me year after year. They don’t see that they have any choice. Neither have I. Pledges of honor have been made. Aboud’s orders leave me no room for maneuver. I have to try to beat Nassef even when I know that I can’t.”

“Haroun? Are you listening?”

“Yes, Megelin.” The youth was as close as Radetic’s shadow. As always. He followed his teacher everywhere, watching with those wide, curious eyes, logging every detail of the siegework in an infallible memory.

“Pay attention to this. Listen to your father. He’s talking about paying the price of an absolute and inflexible concept of duty. Don’t ever push a man into the corner he’s in. And don’t ever let yourself get shoved into one like it. Yousif, there has to be a way around destroying yourself because of Aboud’s stupidity.”

“It’s our way, Megelin. It’s mine. I have to do something.”

“Isn’t this something?” Radetic swept an arm round to include everything happening in Sebil el Selib. “Isn’t this enough? We’ve been bled white. We just don’t have our strength anymore. Yousif!”

The Wahlig stepped back from his sudden intensity. “What?”

“I get the feeling you’re thinking about going on through the pass. To meet Nassef and martyr yourself in some big last battle. Don’t do it. Don’t waste yourself.”

“Megelin —”

“At least set your schedule so you can do it after you’ve finished here. Would that violate the spirit of Aboud’s orders? Only a fool leaves behind an enemy who can close a trap on him later.”

Yousif mused. “You’re right, of course. You always are. I’m not thinking this morning. I’m so tired of fighting and Aboud’s indifference that part of me just wants to hurry the end.”

“Have you explored the pass? Is there a narrow passage where you could ambush Nassef? Where you could roll boulders down on him? This is our last great cry of defiance, Yousif. Why don’t we make it memorable without getting ourselves martyred?”

“All right.”

The Wahlig departed. He seemed less depressed.