shield.
Arrows and stones rained down on the men carrying the ram and the heavy log slipped sideways and fell. Too many bearers on one side had been killed or wounded. That stopped the ramming. The barbarians would need a sizable effort to upright the ram and get it into action again. Esk kar was amazed they’d managed to wield it even that long on such uncertain footing.
Stones kept crashing down from the gate and now villagers dropped them carefully, aiming them to fall directly at the base of the gate. In a few moments the barbarians realized their cover had disappeared and they turned and ran, staggering through the mud, easy targets for the men in the tower and the nearby walls. Moments later the ditch held only the dead and dying.
Esk kar saw a body of horsemen arrive across the ditch and realized that they’d been coming to reinforce the attackers. If he and his men hadn’t managed to stop the ram, there would have been a hundred fresh men at the gate, more than enough to drive its archers below the wall. The warriors hesitated as they saw their comrades fleeing, and soon arrows began to strike among them. Some went bravely forward to help the men on foot, and a few paid the price for their courage.
The barbarians had started giving ground across the entire length of the wall as Totomes’s archers fi nally swept the carts clear of enemy bowmen. Once again the Alur Meriki had to run the same gauntlet of arrows as they retreated.
Cheers sounded everywhere across the wall, even as leaders of ten cursed their men for using their mouths not their bows. But the defenders had tired, too, so they watched gleefully as the barbarians ran back to their original position of that morning. Esk kar glanced up at the sun and saw that less than an hour had passed since the attack began. Looking out again at the ditch, he found he could scarcely see the earth, packed as it was with bodies of men and animals.
The barbarians began to regroup under individual standards. Even half a mile away defeat and disbelief showed in their postures. The first attack a few days ago had been a probe, nothing more. But this had been a full — scale effort, and they weren’t used to being beaten in battle. Even worse, they’d had to leave many of their clan brothers lying on the earth.
Esk kar could see a group of chiefs, their anger and frustration visible even at nearly half a mile. They argued for some time, surrounded by hundreds of dejected and weary men. Finally the standards were raised. Men turned their horses around and headed back toward the main camp. The battle had ended for today.
Esk kar leaned heavily against the gate, breathing hard, then looked down behind him into Orak. Men and women from the village filled the space, all eyes turned upward, waiting in silence. They’d come because the fighting had ceased and they knew the enemy was moving off. Now they waited to hear the outcome.
Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Esk kar straightened up. He knew he had to speak, that this was one of those times when words were more important than swords. Taking a deep breath he raised his voice, inwardly reviling himself as a hypocrite.
“Men of Orak! The barbarians have been driven off for today.” His last words were drowned out in an uproar that reached all the way to the barbarian camp. Esk kar shouted out the words again, but the jubilant shouting went on, until he raised his hands to silence them.
“We have won a battle, but the struggle is not over. They’re driven off, but they will be back! And now they’re fi lled with anger and hate, and they’ll want revenge for those we’ve slain. As long as they’re outside our walls, the danger grows each day. Return to your duties. There is still much to do.”
That would have to satisfy them. He scrambled down from the gate, to find Gatus and Bantor waiting for him. Bantor had blood running down his arm and his eyes looked vacant as he swayed upon his feet. “Where is Maldar?” shouted Esk kar. “We almost lost the gate because the villagers ran off in fear!”
Furious, Esk kar’s pent — up energy and frustration of the last few days rushed to the surface. The gate could have been stormed and the village captured for lack of a few stones and men to carry them.
Neither Gatus nor Bantor spoke, so Esk kar continued shouting orders, his anger apparent to all. “Send men over the walls to gather up their ladders and weapons. And woodcutters to break up that ram and bring it inside.”
He saw Corio pushing through the crowd. “Corio, get your men over the wall and check the gate. I saw men trying to dig underneath it, and the ram made cracks in the timbers. Make what repairs you can before dark.
And don’t forget to recover the stones!”
Gatus nodded and moved away, shouting orders to his men. But Bantor leaned heavily on one of the villagers and Esk kar realized his subcommander was seriously wounded. Blood dripped steadily from his neck, as well as from the ragged bandage wrapped around his upper left arm.
Esk kar turned to his bodyguards. “Carry Bantor back to the house and find a healer for him.”
A horseman pushed his way through the thinning crowd. Esk kar saw that it was Jalen, come from the rear gate.
“Captain, do you need help here?” Jalen’s voice showed his concern.
“No, not any longer. Any problems at the river?”
“A small party of barbarians rushed the gate, but we drove them back without much trouble. Everything is secure there.”
Esk kar nodded, still hot with emotion. “Where’s Sisuthros? And Maldar?”
Soldiers approached him nervously and the story came out in bits, as each contributed what he knew. Sisuthros had been wounded early, an arrow striking him in the mouth. The missile had passed right through and come out in front of his ear, taking out two of his teeth. He’d been bleeding badly when they took him away.
Maldar had taken an arrow under his right arm and passed out from loss of blood, just as his second in command had been slain. With their commanders wounded, the men had done the best they could. In the tu-mult, no one noticed when the villagers abandoned their duties and ran off.
Esk kar stepped toward the last of his bodyguards, so enraged that the man instinctively took a step backward. “Find the men who left their posts.
Get them and bring them to me. Every one of them! I want them all.”
The cowards had jeopardized everything, though they’d faced little danger themselves. They had seen men die and had run off to hide in their houses or under their beds. As if that would save them. He swore they’d pay for their cowardice. He took a deep breath and tried to control himself.
“Jalen! Take command here. Make sure the defenses are ready for another attack. Clear out the bodies from in front of the gate as well. Get the men water and food, then exchange some of them for fresh men from the other walls. Have the men change their bowstrings, get more arrows and stones… curse all the gods below, you know what to do!”
Everyone burst into activity, any thoughts of celebrating vanished by their captain’s rage and all glad of any opportunity to move away from him. Esk kar took the time to inspect the men in both towers, keeping his anger suppressed and making sure they knew what to do and that help was on the way. When he felt the gate secure, he called out to Jalen. “Send word to Gatus that I’m going back to the house.”
His horse still waited, the reins held by a boy of about twelve seasons.
Esk kar swung onto the animal’s back, took the reins, then reached down and caught the boy’s arm, pulling him up in front of him. “Come with me, lad. You’ve earned a coin for doing your duty today, and I have none with me.” He kicked the horse and they cantered through the narrow streets, people scattering before him, his grim face frightening most of them into silence.
At the house he swung down from the horse, holding the boy in his arm as if he were a child. “Stay with the horse, lad, but get him some water. I may need him again.”
Pushing his way into the courtyard he saw much of the space taken up with wounded. Nicar stood there, directing men and dispatching messengers. Esk kar walked into the house where he found Trella and a dozen women working with the healers. She gave him a brief smile, but went on with her work. Four wounded members of the Hawk Clan lay there, including an unconscious Maldar. Bloody bandages covered his upper body and under his arm.
Esk kar found Sisuthros sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his chest covered with dried blood. His mouth, jaw, and neck had all been wrapped tightly. These bandages oozed only a trace of blood, though, and the man’s eyes seemed alert enough. Sisuthros couldn’t speak, but he lifted his left hand a little when Esk kar saw him.
