Locklear hugged the wall, waiting until the troll turned his back to him at the sound of the scream. The girl was no more than sixteen and the other two children considerably younger. The troll reached for the girl, and Locklear leaped out and ran him through from behind. Without saying anything, he reached out and grabbed the girl’s wrist. He tugged and she followed, leading the other two children.
They hurried toward the keep, but the squire halted when a squad of horsemen was driven backward across their path. Locklear saw that Baron Humphry was the last man to quit the fray. The Baron’s horse stumbled and goblin hands reached up and pulled Humphry from his saddle. The stout little ruler of Sethanon lashed out with his sword, cutting down two of his assailants before finally being overwhelmed by the goblins he faced. Locklear pulled the frightened girl and her companions into an abandoned inn. Once inside, he searched until he spied the trapdoor to the cellar. He opened it and said, “Quickly, and be silent!”
The children obeyed and he followed after. He felt about in the dark and found a lamp, with steel and flint next to it. In a short moment he had a light burning. He glanced around while sounds of fighting filtered down from the street above. He pointed toward a large pair of barrels and the children hurried over to crouch between them. He pushed on another barrel and rolled it slowly before the others, creating a small place to hide. He took his sword and the lamp and climbed over to sit with the others.
“What were you doing running down the street?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “The order for noncombatants to leave came a half hour ago.”
The girl looked frightened but spoke calmly. “My mother hid us in the cellar.”
Locklear looked incredulous. “Why?”
The girl regarded him with mixed expression and said, “Soldiers.”
Locklear swore. A mother’s concern over her daughter’s virtue could cost all three of her children their lives. He said, “Well, I hope she prefers you dead to dishonoured.”
The girl stiffened. “She’s dead. The trolls killed her. She fought them while we ran.”
Locklear shook his head, wiping his dripping forehead with the back of his hand. “Sorry.” He studied her for a moment, then recognized she was indeed pretty. “I really am sorry.” He was silent, then added, “I’ve lost someone, too.”
A thump on the floor above, and the girl stiffened more, fear making her eyes enormous as she bit the back of her hand to keep from screaming. The two smaller children clung to each other and Locklear whispered, “Don’t make a sound.” He put his arm about the girl and blew out the lamp and the cellar was plunged into darkness.
Guy ordered the inner gate to the keep closed, and watched as those too slow to reach it safely were cut down by the advancing horde. Archers fired from the battlements, and anything that could be hurled at the attackers was thrown - boiling water and oil, stones, heavy furniture - as the last, desperate attempt to resist the onslaught began.
Then a shout went up from the rear of the invading army and Murmandamus came riding forward, trampling his own soldiers as often as not. Amos waited beside Guy and Jimmy, ready for the first scaling ladders to be brought forward. He looked at the frantically hurrying moredhel leader and said, “The dung-eater still seems in a hurry, doesn’t he? He’s a bit rough on the lads who happen to be in his way.”
Guy shouted, “Archers, there’s your target!” and a storm of arrows descended about the broad-shouldered moredhel. With a scream the horse was down and the rider fell and rolled. He leaped to his feet, unharmed, and pointed toward the keep doors. A dozen goblins and moredhel raced forward, to die under bow fire. Most bowmen concentrated upon the moredhel leader, but none could harm him. The arrows would harmlessly strike some invisible barrier and bounce off.
Then a ram was carried forward, and while dozens of invaders died, it at last reached the doors and was brought to bear. Moredhel archers kept the defenders down, while the rhythmic pounding began.
Guy sat with his back to the stones, as flight after flight of moredhel arrows sped overhead. “Squire,” he said to Jimmy, “hurry downstairs and see if de la Troville has his company together. Order him to be ready at the inner door. I think we have less than ten minutes before they’re inside.” Jimmy hurried off, and Guy said to Amos, “Well, you pirate . .. it looks like we gave them a good run.”