“ ‘Ware the gates!” Arutha shouted as he struck out at the next man to face him.
Then the sound of horses could be heard as a company of riders charged out from the barn, attempting to reach the gates as they opened. Without hesitation, Arutha shouted, “Follow me!” and charged out into the open. He knew that if he could keep the riders from fleeing the yard, he could prevent word reaching Nordan that the abbey was under attack. By denying them the gate, it would break the back of the last resistance in the abbey and force a surrender. Half the garrison was under guard in the basements below, and a full hundred lay dead or wounded throughout the compound. The hundred men trapped in the kitchen, the barn, and upon the walls were the only ones left.
Arutha felt a surge of energy, something akin to joy, mixed with nothing short of terror, as he dodged through the melee, striking up at a horseman who was attempting to engage another Kingdom soldier. Arutha’s blade struck a glancing blow, not injuring the rider, but distracting him enough so the other soldier could unseat him.
Riders were milling around and horses were rearing and bucking, panic rising in the herd as the fighting swirled around them. Arutha glanced to his left and saw Subai signaling his men to fan out and, by pointing, to mount an unguarded set of steps leading to the upper wall.
Arutha looked toward the gate and saw two men, one wounded, were freeing the bar. He shouted, “The gate!” and charged.
Halfway between the main building of the abbey and the gate, an arrow struck Arutha in the neck, between breastplate and helm.
For a moment he thought someone had punched him with a fist, for he felt the impact of the blow and his legs go out from under him, but he didn’t feel much pain. Then his vision seemed to contract, as if he were falling backward down a long tunnel, with darkness sweeping in from all sides. Still uncertain of what was happening, Arutha, Duke of Krondor, slipped into a void.
Subai was halfway to the steps to the top of the wall when he saw Arutha go down and shouted to two of his men, “Get the Duke back here!”
The two soldiers raced out in the middle of the fight, managed to grab the Duke, and haul him back to Subai’s position. Subai knelt beside the Duke, but he had seen enough dead men before that he didn’t have to take a second look at Arutha. He considered how ironic it was that this brave man had died in his first conflict, and then put aside all thoughts of the Duke; Subai had a battle to fight.
Erik signaled to Greylock and the two elements of the Kingdom army charged. Horsemen raced down the main street of Sarth, heading to the Trades Masters’ Hall, the headquarters and final defense of the invaders. So far the retaking of Sarth had gone without a hitch. The entire city defense had been ordered south to deal with Greylock’s center thrust. As had been the plan, Greylock stood and engaged, while Erik’s right flank element pushed through light resistance on the treacherous hillside east of the road, and while ships were unloading soldiers at the dock.
Owen held a stable front, while Erik feigned a flanking attack from the right. The enemy shifted to face Erik, who withdrew just as soldiers under the command of the Duke of Ran struck them from the rear. Within minutes, it was a total rout.
Many men fled north along the King’s Highway, but a few hundred had barricaded themselves in the large building that dominated the town’s square. Erik’s charging column wheeled to the right and flanked the building from the northeast, while Greylock’s men stood on the southwest. Quickly the building was encircled.
Occasional arrows flew from windows in the upper floor, but otherwise the building was sealed. Windows and doors on the lower floor had been barricaded.
Erik turned to Duga, the mercenary Captain who had been among the first to switch sides during the war. “Keep the men back!” he ordered, then he set heels to his horse and rode around to Greylock’s position. “Orders, sir?”
Greylock was sweating furiously under the midday heat, his hair hanging limply across his brow. “I’m lacking patience, Erik.” He rode a little closer to the building and shouted, “You, in the guild hall!”
An arrow sped from an upper window, missing by a few feet.
“Damn it! I’m talking to you,” shouted Greylock.
Erik said, “Let me,” and switching to the language of Novindus, he shouted, “Our leader wishes parlay!”
After a moment, a voice from within shouted, “What terms?”
Erik translated.
Owen said, “Tell him, the terms are throw down weapons and walk out, or we’ll burn the building down with them inside of it. They must decide now!”
Erik translated, and there was the sound of a sudden argument breaking out inside. Then the sound of fighting erupted, and Erik glanced at Owen, who nodded.
Erik shouted, “Charge!” and from all sides the Kingdom forces rushed the building.