Arista had already begun organizing those men who remained outside into two lines with their backs to the armory and their faces to the square.
“We need to get weapons!” Perin shouted at the princess.
“Stay in line!” she barked. “We’ll have them brought out. You have to maintain the lines to stop the garrison from charging.”
The men who stood in line holding only farm tools looked at her, terrified, as across the square, the first of the soldiers struggled to push away the wagons and carts that had been rutted in the mud. Before long, the men Emery had shooed out began taking their place in front of the line.
“Form up!” Emery shouted. “Two straight lines.”
Arista ran back into the armory and began grabbing swords and dragging them out. She spotted Carat stealing coins from a dead man’s purse and shoved him against a wall. “Help me carry swords and shields out!”
“But I’m not allowed to,” he said.
“You’re not allowed to fight, but you can carry some swords, damn it. Just like you unlocked the door. Now do it!”
Carat seemed like he would say something and then gave in. He started pulling shields down from the walls. Dr. Gerand entered carrying bandages but discarded them quickly to help deliver weapons. On her way out, Arista saw a woman running in, her dress soaked from the rain, her long blonde hair pasted to her face so that she could barely see. The blonde stopped abruptly at Arista’s approach.
“Let me help,” she said to Arista. “You get more while I pass these out.”
Arista nodded and handed over the weapons, then ran back inside.
Carat handed her the stack of shields he was carrying and she ran them down to the young woman, who in turn took them to the waiting line. When Arista came out again, she found that a line of older men and some women had formed up, and they were passing the weapons like a bucket brigade, with the young blonde adding more people to the line.
“More swords!” Arista shouted. “Helms and mail last.”
Carat assembled weapons into manageable piles for the others to grab.
“No more swords!” The call soon came. “Send shields!”
The bell in Central Square began to ring, its tone sounding different that morning than on any other, perhaps due to the heavy rain or the pounding of blood in Arista’s ears. Most men on the line held only a sword. Arista could see fear in every face.
She could hear Emery’s voice drifting above the rain with each delivery. “Steady! Dress those lines. Tighten that formation.” He barked the orders like a veteran commander. “No more than a fist’s distance between your shoulders. Those with spears or pikes to the rear line. Those with shields to the front. Wait! Halt!” he shouted. “Forget that. Back in line. Just pass the spears back and hand the shields forward.”
With the next delivery of weapons, Arista paused at the armory doorway and looked out across the square. The garrison had cleared the wagons from King’s Street and a few soldiers entered. They looked briefly at the lines of townsfolk, then went to work to clear the other carts.
Emery stood in front of the troops. Everyone had a sword or a spear but most did not know how to wield them properly. Nearly every man in the front row had a wooden shield, but most simply held them in their hands. At least one man had his shield upside down.
“Adam the wheeler, front and center!” Emery shouted, and the middle-aged wheelwright stepped forward. “Take the left side and see that the men know how to wear their shields and hold their swords.” Emery likewise called Renkin Pool and Forrest into action and set them to dressing the line.
“Keep your shield high,” Adam was shouting. “Don’t swing your sword—thrust it instead. That way you can maintain closer formations. Keep the line tight. The man next to you is a better shield than that flimsy bit of wood in your hands! Stay shoulder to shoulder!”
“Don’t let them turn the flank!” Renkin was shouting on the other side of the line. “Those on the ends, turn and hold your shields to defend from a side assault. Everyone must move and work together!”
Helms and hauberks were coming out now and there were a few in the front row hastily pulling chain mail netting over their heads.