“Captain, get this man to Lord Greylock. He’s somewhere south of Quester’s View!”
“Sir!” replied the Captain, who turned and shouted, “Make ready to get underway!”
Jimmy left the stunned Herbert standing on the deck and ran from the docks back through the town of Port Vykor toward where he hoped his gear was ready. He was impatient to leave, and impatient to reach Krondor. His only brother was still in Krondor, and unless Greylock could get units south faster than Jimmy could go north, all that stood between Dash and destruction was a few palace guards, the city militia, and a barely repaired city wall.
Erik shouted, “Get into that breach!”
Catapults on both sides of the line fired rocks and bundles of burning hay. Large ballista bolts flew overhead and men lay screaming and dying.
The fighting had been underway since dawn the previous day, and night turned the scene hellish. The enemy had dug a series of trenches backed by a high wall, upon which platforms held war engines. Thousands had died building these fortifications, and the dead had been left outside the wall, unburied. The stench could be smelled miles before the first trench could be seen. The trenches had been filled with water, atop which oil had been floated. The oil had been fired and was sending a black blanket of smoke across the ground.
Earl Richard had reviewed the defensive position and had been forced to agree that the only approach was a direct one. Erik had supervised the construction of a set of massive wooden bridges, set up to roll over logs cut from the nearby woods. The first set of trenches had been difficult, because of the bow-fire from the wall above, but once he got his men underway, the trenches were quickly bridged. Soldiers frantically shoveled dirt across the top of the oil, banking the fires as the bridges were run across.
Fortunately for the Kingdom forces, when they reached the wall, they found a wooden stockade. It was brilliantly fashioned, and as stout as could be imagined, but being wood it could be cut. Men had died wielding axes at key locations, and when finally their work was done, chains with large iron bars had been thrown through the gaps. The iron bars snapped sideways when pulled back and the chains were tied to draft horses.
They had pulled down a twelve-foot-wide section of the wall, and the Kingdom forces were now pouring through. Erik waited for the huge gates across the highway to be opened so he could lead his cavalry through.
The gates suddenly shuddered, then swung open, and Erik ordered the advance. He kicked his horse, and the large chestnut gelding leaped forward and was up to a comfortable canter immediately.
Erik’s eyes watered from smoke and the stench of blood and death, but he could clearly see what lay on the other side of the gates. He frantically shouted for a halt.
Moving slowly forward, he saw his footmen were upon the battlements and locked in hand-to-hand fighting. “Dismount!” he shouted to his men.
They did, and Erik said, “Follow me!”
He ran through the gate and the men behind him saw what had made him stop the advance. Just behind the gate lay a pit ten feet deep, with sharpened wooden stakes. The gate was only six feet wider than the pit, three on each side, so men could move around the pit, but a horse could not pass.
Erik urged his men through the smoke and blinked tears from his eyes. “Where is all that smoke coming from?” he shouted.
“Over there,” came the familiar voice of Jadow Shati.
Erik looked where his old friend pointed, and said, “Damn.”
“Yes, man, damn and damn again.”
Four hundred yards up the highway, thousands of men were lined up in ranks, with officers and cavalry mounted to the flanks and rear. More catapults, mangonels, and ballistae were apparent. This was not a defensive position. This army was making ready to attack.
Suddenly Erik saw what was about to happen. He glanced at the wall through which he had fought and realized that if it were knocked down from behind it provided a massive bridge over the trenches on either side of the pit.
“Back!” shouted Erik, and the order was passed.
“Get back and get ready!” shouted Jadow.
Erik raced back to where his horse was waiting, and he leaped into the saddle. The sound of horns and the shout of men up the highway told him that at last he was going to join battle in the field with General Fadawah. And Erik’s only thought now wasn’t on victory, but rather on survival.
Twenty-Two - Realization
Men stalked the Woods.
Subai moved quietly but with purpose, following the river. Most of his men were dead, though two might have gotten over the ridge to make their way along the eastern face of the mountains down to Darkmoor. He prayed it was so.