Totomes’s son had just descended from the right tower. He staggered toward Esk kar, blood pouring down his right arm, two arrows protruding from it. Esk kar grabbed the man and shouted for a messenger. A boy, eyes wide, appeared from under the wall.
“Bring Narquil to the women and have them stop the bleeding.”
Narquil, his eyes wide with shock from pain and loss of blood, grasped Esk kar’s arm with his left hand. “Captain… look at the arrow.”
He slurred the words, and at fi rst Esk kar thought Narquil wanted him to look at the wound.
“The arrow, Captain… it’s one of ours. They’re running out of arrows.”
“Yes, I see. Go with the boy now.” Turning to the messenger, Esk kar ordered him to get moving, then raced up the tower where he’d started the morning. Emerging into the sunlight, he found blood and bodies everywhere. Death had thinned their ranks, but archers still worked their bows.
He found Totomes. The grim archer had held his place, calmly aiming and firing shafts at his hated enemy, using the tower’s vantage to kill as many clan leaders as possible.
“Totomes, can your archers sweep the ditch of warriors?” he shouted, almost in the man’s ear. “They’re at the gate with axes.”
Totomes loosed the arrow on his bowstring before ducking below the wall, pulling Esk kar down with him. “Not yet, Captain. We’d have to lean too far over the wall to get a shot at them. We’re killing the bowmen behind the barricade. Their fire is slowing and they’re running out of arrows.
The men in the ditch will have to wait.”
“We may not have that much time left. They’re weakening the gate and fire will be upon us soon.”
“I’ll do what I can, Captain, but you must hold them off a little longer.
Are my sons still alive?”
“Narquil was wounded in the arm and I sent him to the women. He’ll fight no more today. I haven’t seen Mitrac.” Esk kar started to move away, then turned back to the master archer. “Narquil said the same thing, that they were running out of arrows. One of the arrows that wounded him was one of ours. Does that mean anything?”
Totomes grimaced at the news of his son’s wounding. “Our arrows are heavier than theirs, and longer. If they shoot them at us, they risk breaking their bows, or not shooting them full strength. That means they’ll fire more slowly as well. Now let me get back to my work. I’ve killed two clan leaders already and there are more out there.” He strung another shaft to his bowstring while they spoke. Now he rose up, aimed, and loosed in one easy motion.
Cursing the gods in frustration, Esk kar started back down the steps, pushing past a woman carrying a sack of arrows up to the men. At least his soldiers would have no shortage of missiles today. Out of the tower and back at the gate, he heard axes ringing against the structure. Looking up, he saw Grond hurling stones over the top of the gate.
Men scrambled up the steps, carrying baskets of stones, but the defenders dropped them over the top faster than they could be resupplied.
Men passed baskets from hand to hand to make sure they covered the entire section of the gate. Esk kar started up the steps, then stopped when he heard his name called. He turned back to find Gatus running toward him, blood on his hand and a cut across his cheek.
“Esk kar! The barbarians crossed the ditch on the south wall and nearly carried the wall. Bantor went there with the last of the villagers, when there were no other soldiers to move up in support.”
Esk kar could do nothing about the other walls. The villagers would have to keep the attackers at bay. “I need more men here, Gatus, and now.”
Pointing up at the gate, Esk kar saw only a few men hurling rocks and firing arrows. “Otherwise they’ll be coming through soon enough.” The gate’s big timbers had begun to shake under the axe blows.
Gatus coolly appraised the gate. Alcinor’s workers swarmed everywhere, carrying heavy planks to reinforce its base. “The gate will last a little longer. I’ll find you more men.”
Esk kar swore again and ran toward the steps, pausing only to take a basket of stones away from a woman who could scarcely manage the load. He grunted under the weight and ducked beneath the slits until he reached Grond’s side. The big man picked up two stones, one in each hand, then positioned himself directly over the pounding before he flung the missiles over the edge. Esk kar stayed on his knees, handing Grond the three remaining stones, one at a time. When they were gone, Esk kar tossed the empty basket to the ground and shouted for more.
A bowman at the slit beside him gave a strangled gasp as an arrow pierced his throat. Esk kar grabbed the bow from the man’s hands, then pushed the dying man off the parapet. Notching a shaft, he went to the slit, as another arrow flew through it. The attackers had grown bolder.
They had discovered that the safest place was directly under the wall, and many had positioned themselves there, shafts ready to fire at any target that showed.
Peering through the slit at the sharpest angle he could manage, Esk kar saw an Alur Meriki archer in the ditch and let fly. The arrow feathered itself in the man’s chest.
Esk kar’s action drew a flurry of arrows and another hissed through the slit, narrowly missing him. Still, he had the helmet and collar for protection, and he needed to stop the barbarians now. Esk kar shoved the bow into the slit for a moment then ducked back, letting another flight of arrows come at him. Then he moved up while they were notching their shafts and again sent an arrow into an Alur Meriki archer.
Ducking back again he took a quick glance toward the ditch and saw that a third wagon had been pushed to the edge. Warriors now carried burning fagots and torches onto the platform. They had their own jars of oil. They’d stuff the burning wood into the holes the axe men had created, douse everything with oil, and try to fire the gate. And the defenders had no more oil to oppose them.
Grond reappeared with another basket of rocks. Two bodyguards came behind him, carrying more. The gate shuddered continually under the axes, the sounds of splintering wood carrying over the frantic shouts of the defenders. “There’s a group of bowmen right below us. Let’s feed them some stones.”
Grond nodded and pulled the bodyguards into position on each side of him. Then the three men began tossing the rocks in unison over the edge. As soon as they started, Esk kar moved to a slit and shot another arrow, cursing as his intended target moved back, the shaft disappearing harmlessly in the mud. In the same instant he saw another warrior struck in the shoulder by a stone. The man screamed in pain and dropped the shield he’d held over his head. Nevertheless, more barbarians moved into the ditch, carrying bundles of wood and straw, as well as pots that surely contained oil.
Esk kar, Grond, and the others fought like demons, while the brutal fighting raged all around them. Stones provided the main weapon for the defenders now, the gate’s archers almost useless now, afraid to lean out or even use the arrow slits. Too many enemy archers, bows drawn, waited for any movement, most of them protected by shields. The barbarians still hacked away at the gate, taking losses but maintaining their stubborn attack. The continuous pounding shook the structure.
A shout behind him made Esk kar turn around. Corio and Alcinor had returned with a crowd of villagers carrying the last of the stones. Forming lines, villagers passed the rocks to the top of the gate as fast as they could. Under the parapet, carpenters continued to reinforce the base of the structure. Suddenly the ringing of the axes ceased. Esk kar risked a peek through the slit.
The axe men were racing away, back to the safety of the wagons, their task done for the moment. Others ran forward to replace them. These warriors carried large bundles of dry grass they placed against the gate. The barbarians had chopped and shattered much of the gate’s bottom and now stuffed bundles of oil — soaked straw and wood into the openings. Esk kar saw a dozen men with torches race across the platform before hurling their torches. The gate ignited in a whoosh of flames.
The defenders kept hurling rocks and water over the gate. Esk kar leaned back and looked across the ditch. Arrows coated all the carts, and new shafts kept striking at the mass of men huddled behind them, aimed at any warrior who exposed himself. Orak’s archers were slowly stopping the bowmen behind the ditch. Totomes had been right. They were winning the archery battle. If only they had enough time.
Esk kar looked down behind him. At the base of the gate, a thick plume of smoke already curled underneath, carrying the stink of burning oil with it.
Everyone screamed for water. Men and women alike passed buckets to the top of the gate. Every available
