Roland looked genuinely embarrassed. “In truth, I tripped coming down the steps and couldn’t stop myself.”
She placed her cheek against his forehead as Arutha and Amos laughed. “You are a liar. And I do love you,” she said softly.
Arutha stood and took Amos in tow, leaving Roland and Carline to each other. Reaching the corner, they encountered the former Tsurani slave, Charles, carrying water for the wounded. Arutha halted the man.
He stood with a yoke across his shoulders holding two large water buckets. He was bleeding from several small wounds and was covered with mire. Arutha said, “What happened to you?”
With a broad smile, Charles said, “Good fight. Jump in hole. Charles good warrior.”
The former Tsurani slave was pale and weaved a little as he stood there. Arutha remained speechless, then indicated he should continue his work. Happily Charles hurried along. Arutha said to Amos, “What do you make of that?”
Amos chuckled. “I’ve had many dealings with rogues and scoundrels, Highness. I know little of these Tsurani, but I think that’s a man to count on.”
Arutha watched as Charles dispensed water to the other soldiers, ignoring his own wounds and fatigue. “That was no mean thing, jumping into the shaft without orders. I’ll have to consider Longbow’s offer to put that man in service.”
They continued on their way, Arutha supervising the care of the wounded, while Amos was put in charge of the final destruction of the tunnel.
When dawn came, the courtyard was still, and only a patch of raw earth, where the shaft had been filled in, and a long depression running from the keep to the outer wall showed anything unusual had occurred in the night.
Fannon hobbled along the wall, favoring his right side. The wound to his back was almost healed, but he was still unable to walk without aid. Father Tully supported the Swordmaster as they came to where the others waited.
Arutha gave the Swordmaster a smile and gently took him by the other arm, helping Tully hold him. Gardan, Amos Trask, Martin Longbow, and a group of soldiers stood nearby.
“What’s this?” asked Fannon, his display of gruff anger a welcome sight to those on the wall. “Have you so little wits among you that you must haul me from my rest to take charge?”
Arutha pointed out to sea. On the horizon dozens of small flecks could be seen against the blue of sea and sky, flashes of brilliant white glinting as the morning sun was caught and reflected back to them. “The fleet from Carse and Tulan approaches the south beaches.”
He indicated the Tsurani camp in the distance, bustling with activity. “Today we’ll drive them out. By this time tomorrow we’ll clear this entire area of the aliens. We’ll harry them eastward, allowing them no respite. It will be a long time before they’ll come in strength again.”
Quietly Fannon said, “I trust you are right, Arutha.” He stood without speaking for a time, then said, “I have heard reports of your command, Arutha. You’ve done well. You are a credit to your father, and to Crydee.”
Finding himself moved by the Swordmaster’s praise, Arutha tried to make light, but Fannon interrupted. “No, you have done all that was needed, and more. You were right. With these people we must not be cautious. We must carry the struggle to them.” He sighed. “I am an old man, Arutha. It is time I retired and left warfare to the young.”
Tully made a derisive noise. “You’re not old. I was already a priest when you were still in swaddling.”
Fannon laughed with the others at the obvious untruth of the statement, and Arutha said, “You must know, if I’ve done well, it is because of your teachings.”
Tully gripped Fannon’s elbow. “You may not be an old man, but you are a sick one. Back to the keep with you. You’ve had enough gadding about. You can begin walking regularly tomorrow. In a few weeks you’ll be charging about, shouting orders at everyone like your old self.”
Fannon managed a slight smile and allowed Tully to lead him back down the stairs. When he was gone, Gardan said, “The Swordmaster’s right, Highness. You’ve done your father proud.”
Arutha watched the approaching ships, his angular features fixed in an expression of quiet reflection. Softly he said, “If I have done well, it is because I have had the aid of good men, many no longer with us.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “You have played a great part in our withstanding this siege, Gardan, and you, Martin.”
Both men smiled and voiced their thanks. “And you, pirate.” Arutha grinned. “You’ve also played a great part. We are deeply in your debt.”
Amos Trask tried to look modest and failed. “Well, Highness, I was merely protecting my own skin as well as everyone else’s.” He then returned Arutha’s grin. “It was a rousing good fight.”
Arutha looked toward the sea once more. “Let us hope we can soon be done with rousing good fights.” He left the walls and started down the stairs. “Give orders to prepare for the attack.”