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Captain Bolton appeared at a run behind Brendan less than five minutes later. He was a slender young man, the same age as Martin. He had been left in charge of the city’s defences by the Duke of Yabon, and until now, his only practical experience had been overseeing a squad of the Earl of LaMut’s personal guards, of which his uncle was commander. To the brothers’ surprise, he had turned out to be a willing worker and a quick study; his arrogant manner as defender of the city had been a mask to hide his uncertainty. But once Martin had defined his duties, Bolton had thrown himself into whatever task had been given him. Even Brendan had come to like him despite the fact they were both smitten by the mayor’s daughter, Lily.
Martin said to him, ‘What I need to know is if there is any sort of sally port or secret exit from that keep.’
Bolton said, ‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out.’
Martin nodded and Bolton ran off towards the stable nearest the gate.
Brendan smiled at his retreating back. ‘He’s still eager.’
‘He’s just like a lot of men,’ said Martin. ‘A total waste until you give them something meaningful to do, then you see the man’s true measure.’
‘What are you thinking?’ Brendan asked with a twitch of his head in the general direction of the keep.
‘If that Keshian commander can get control of that ridge up there,’ he pointed to the crest of the road and the clearings on either side, ‘he can erect those trebuchets and just pound this wall until it’s rubble. Then a single charge down the hill and he has this city.’
‘So you want to hit him in the arse?’ said Brendan, but his expression was serious.
‘If I can get a big enough company behind him, yes; but he’ll have pickets stationed a quarter of a mile out on either flank. If there’s a tunnel or an old escape route, or a sally port with a road downhill …’ He shrugged. ‘It’s worth a look.’
‘Yes it is.’
Martin motioned for the gates to be closed and said, ‘If I was that Keshian commander, I’d be sending scouts south of the pass road to seek out game trails and old farmers’ wagon paths, so I can infiltrate as many men as possible south of here without being seen.’
‘Should we send a patrol towards Natal?’
‘The Free City Rangers should be able to annoy the Keshians and prevent them moving too far south, so we can guess where they’ll pop up if they do infiltrate.’
Brendan said, ‘I’m glad it’s you having to puzzle all this out, brother. I’m a bit out of my depth.’
‘You’d do fine, I suspect,’ Martin said with a tired smile. Then he stared at the closed gates as if he could somehow will his sight through them, over the mountains and to the Keshian camp. ‘It’s just the waiting that tires me out.’
‘And a lack of sleep.’ With the evil grin of a younger brother Brendan said, ‘Besides being up all hours getting our defences in place, Bethany—’
Before he could finish, Martin raised a single finger before his brother’s nose. ‘Don’t!’
Stepping back, Brendan put his hands up, palms out, in a supplicating gesture. ‘I was only going to say that you spend a great deal of time talking to her after supper.’
Martin fixed his younger brother with an expression that meant he found his brother’s claim to be dubious, but he let it go. ‘She’s a wonder,’ he said in obvious admiration. ‘She’s done amazing things with the women and children in this town: about two-thirds of the women and almost all the children are leaving tomorrow for the north, to seek shelter in Zün. The women who are staying behind will cook, wash clothing, and care for the wounded.’
‘They will no doubt make good account of themselves if the Keshians do get over that wall.’
Martin nodded. ‘Kesh is never gentle with those they conquer. Rape and slavery is the best to hope for beyond a quick death.’
Both young men had read the histories and accounts of wars in the past. No nation could claim virtue in the throes of struggle; the Kingdom had been as brutal as anyone during the conquest of their neighbours as they extended their borders in ages past, but those had been wars of expansion and those who had been conquered were now considered as citizens as much as the first raiders who left the island Kingdom of Rillanon.
Kesh’s wars were of subjugation. Only ‘Truebloods’ were granted full citizenship. Those who served the Empire and had lived around the massive lake known as the Overn Deep for generations were counted as lesser citizens, though some had risen to high office. Everyone else was regarded as a subject. Even colonists who had moved to distant lands, like the Far Coast and Natal – the ancient province of Bosania – and the Island of Queg, became lesser subjects. And as a result, Kesh’s Legionaries and Dog Soldiers had been putting down rebellions for centuries.
The results were uniform. When Kesh conquered, she occupied: indigenous people were driven out, killed or enslaved.
It was that knowledge that kept Martin from feeling like a total failure. He had abandoned his family’s castle, but had he remained he would be dead, or perhaps an object of ransom. There would be no truce with Kesh. Their only hope was to withstand whatever assault came this way, and hold out against the return of the Duke of Yabon’s forces. When they arrived, he would lead his men of Crydee home and drive the Keshian trespassers from every mill, farm, mine, and fishing community within the Duchy.
Brendan saw his brother’s expression and said, ‘What?’
Letting out a long breath, Martin said, ‘Nothing. Everything. Just a lot of thoughts.’ He glanced around as if he might find one more task that needed his attention.
‘Go back to the mayor’s house and get some rest. Talk with Bethany now and get some sleep later.’
Martin let his shoulders slump as he relaxed. ‘I just—’
‘I know,’ said his brother putting his hand on Martin’s arm. ‘If anything needs to be done, I’ll do it.’ Then he grinned, and said, ‘Or I’ll send for you. Is that all right?’
‘Yes,’ said Martin. ‘I’ll never admit it to anyone else, but I couldn’t have pulled this together without your help, little brother.’
Brendan said, ‘I would be lost without your leadership, Martin. But I would give all of my inheritance to have Hal here.’
Martin nodded in earnest agreement. ‘I, too.’ Their brother had been groomed to rule, and was a far better leader than his two younger siblings. ‘He has a definite knack for this sort of thing.’
‘You’re not doing badly, honestly.’
‘I wonder what he’s up to right now?’
‘Probably trying to find a way to get home,’ answered Brendan. ‘Little chance there, I should think. Kesh probably has Roldem bottled up, or Roldem’s now allied with Kesh and Hal’s been arrested or is in hiding.’
‘You think like Father,’ said Martin. ‘I never gave a thought to what might be occurring in Roldem.’ A moment of sadness passed between them: they’d had little time to truly mourn the loss of their father.
Finally Martin broke the mood and said, ‘Come, we have work to do.’
‘Raiders!’
The warning echoed across the silent square behind the harbour gates and was repeated by every sentry along the wall. Martin was dressed and out of the door of his room in the mayor’s house before the alarm bell stopped. He was joined by Brendan as the two brothers nearly collided at the top of the stairs.
Two young women were waiting for them as they reached the main floor of the house: Bethany, daughter of the Earl of Carse, and Lily, the mayor’s daughter. Bethany was sharing Lily’s room at the back of the house and both women were wearing heavy robes over their nightgowns.
Before either could voice a question, Martin said, ‘Get dressed and be ready to ride north if I give the order.’ He kissed Bethany absently on the cheek and was quickly away while she stood there for a moment.
She looked at Lily and shook her head. ‘Be ready to run? I don’t think so.’ She turned towards her host’s room and said, ‘Are you coming?’
‘Where?’ asked Lily. She and Bethany had taken an instant liking to one another, but Lily was often amazed at what she thought of as Bethany’s rough ways. She rode a horse like a man, wearing trousers! She was practised with weapons, and thought nothing of fine clothing, jewellery, fragrances, or cosmetics. Still, the younger girl liked Bethany a great deal and because of her rank the mayor had been reluctant to stem her more outlandish behaviour; a condition Lily exploited at every chance. Bethany’s expression was one that communicated the answer to where was obvious.
Lily’s eyes widened as she realized Bethany was going to ignore Martin’s orders, then she nodded and grinned as she shouted, ‘Wait for me!’
The raid was well underway by the time the young women had changed into something more appropriate. A few inhabitants still ran northward, many carrying their most precious belongings in sacks over their shoulders or in packs on their backs, but at the foot of the city’s wall, no other civilians were in sight. Columns of soldiers were lined up on either side of the street, awaiting orders to mount one flight of steps or another, flank either side of the gate, or be ready to repel invaders should the gates fall.
Flickering light in the sky above the gate was a sign of fire, and Bethany ran up the right-hand steps to the top of the wall.
Martin and Brendan stood talking as Captain Bolton pushed passed them. ‘Excuse me—’ He stopped. ‘Lily?’ He glanced at Bethany and added, ‘My lady?’
Bethany wore her travel clothes: riding breeches, a linen shirt under a leather tunic, and riding boots. She was also sporting her composite bow and a hip-quiver full of broadhead arrows.
‘Ah, I don’t think you should be here—’ he started, but Bethany planted her left hand on his chest and gave him the slightest shove.
‘Don’t let us keep you from carrying out your orders, Captain.’ She swept past the wide-eyed young man.
Lily shot him a quick smile as she also darted past him to follow Bethany.
Martin turned just as Bethany arrived, and if he was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it. A quick play of expressions across his face betrayed his internal debate about what to do with her, but he finally decided that telling her to do anything was futile. Without her asking, he said, ‘Raiders.’
She glanced over the wall, and despite the night’s gloom could see the dark figures carrying torches down near the docks. ‘What are they doing?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but I’m not about to risk men tonight to find out. The docks and foulborough are deserted and anything worth saving was fetched inside the city walls days ago. Besides a couple of rotten fishing boats at anchor, there’s nothing there of value.’
‘They’re setting fires,’ said Lily.
Brendan leaned back a little, looking behind his brother and Bethany so he could clearly see the girl. ‘Lily,’ he said with a nod, ‘you shouldn’t be here.’
Her eyes got wide and, feigning surprise, she said, ‘Oh?’
Brendan smiled. ‘My brother won’t say it to her,’ he nodded at Bethany, ‘so I felt the need to say it on his behalf, even though I know telling Bethany to do anything is a lost cause.’
Martin ignored their banter. He looked up to the sentry on the closest tower and shouted up to him, ‘What do you see?’
‘Just what you do, sir. They’re setting fires all over the docks.’
Brendan said, ‘What are they up to?’
Martin glanced at the bow in Bethany’s hand and said, ‘If you’re staying, you must do two things: follow my orders exactly and don’t get killed.’
She kissed him. ‘Tell me what to do.’
He glanced around and said, ‘Stand over there,’ he pointed to a crenel, ‘and watch for anyone coming along the wall opposite you. You’ll have to lean out a bit, so don’t overbalance. I don’t want to open the gate and come out to fetch you back in.’
She smiled and said, ‘But you would.’
He ignored the flirting, knowing she was hiding her own fear at possibly being under enemy fire again. ‘Shoot anything on that side of the wall that gets close to the gate.’
Martin turned to the general assembly of soldiers gathering in the square and shouted, ‘Sergeant Magwin!’
‘Sir!’ came the instant response from below.
‘Archers to the walls, and form a flying company opposite the gate!’
‘Yes, sir!’ shouted the old sergeant from Crydee.
‘Sergeant Ruther,’ said Martin in a lower tone, knowing that his most senior officer from Crydee would have by now found his commander on the wall.
‘Sir?’
He turned to look at the grey-haired fighter. ‘Archers are to shoot anything that crosses the outer killing ground, especially anyone carrying torches or oil near the gate.’
‘Sir,’ he said and set about at once relaying Martin’s orders.
Ancient cities often outgrew their walls, especially during times of peace; a foulborough grew beyond the outer precincts of many of them, such as Krondor, LaMut, and all the great eastern cities. In some cities like Salador, the inner walled city was the smallest quarter. But the barons of Ylith had been cautious men, who knew how easily the invaders under the Emerald Queen had swept in through the foulborough and over the walls. Since then, no building had been permitted against the city wall behind the fishing town and docks area, creating an effective bailey where archers could punish any attackers.
While a long peace had existed between the invasion of the Emerald Queen’s army and this Keshian attack, vigilance had been bred into the rulers of Ylith. Moreover, the natural slope of the landscape and the curve of the harbour caused the main gate to the city to be set at an angle unfavourable to attack. There was no easy way to bring a ram to bear on the gate and move it into position for a run. Unlike Crydee, the city gates of Ylith were massive, their huge hinges had knuckles the size of a small tree bole, with three-foot leaves on each side held in place by massive iron bolts driven through the foot-thick hardwood. They were as stout as steel after years of drying in the sun, being oiled and tended with preservatives. The Keshians would have to stand on the crest of the road and hurl stones at the gate with their trebuchets, to see how long that portion of the wall could take a pounding. Martin knew they could take weeks of damage before giving out, long enough for relief to arrive from the south.
As he thought of that, he understood. ‘I know what they are doing.’ Brendan and the girls looked at him as Martin explained, ‘This isn’t an attack on our gates. They are trying to prevent any Kingdom fleet from landing.’
Brendan appeared confused, then comprehension dawned. ‘The piers!’
‘Burned to the waterline,’ Martin said, nodding.
‘The underwater pilings would stove in any hull that got near,’ finished his brother.
They thought of the three long piers that extended out from the quayside and imagined the tree-sized wooden supports jutting just below the surface.
Bethany said, ‘The tide would carry any ship right into them.’
‘They would have to anchor off shore and row men in to land!’ added Brendan.
It was Lily who said, ‘I know that slows things down, but they’d still come ashore to relieve us, right?’
Martin scanned the tableau before him; the flames had begun to take the buildings nearest the docks and the scene below was quickly growing clearer. ‘Not if they have to withstand … The old fortress!’
‘What about it?’ asked Brendan. Sergeant Ruther had inspected it the day before on Martin’s order, and had reported back that it was run-down, but the walls were still stout; with a little work it could easily be made defensible.
‘Sergeant Ruther!’ Martin bellowed.
‘Sir!’ As ever, the answer came at once from below.
‘Open the sally port and get a detachment of cavalry down to the old fortress! Round up a company of foot soldiers and send them on afterwards. At first light I want carpenters and stonemasons down there starting repairs!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I thought we weren’t going to utilize that fort,’ said his brother.
‘We wouldn’t if we were only facing an assault from one quarter.’ He paused and let out a slow tired breath. ‘We have to deny them any possible foothold on the eastern shore.’
‘Do you think they mean to seize it?’ asked Brendan.
‘It’s what I would do if I was going to attempt a landing,’ said Martin. ‘If they get a foothold on that side of the harbour mouth, install some catapults or trebuchets into that fortress, they can deny any reinforcements a safe landing, and when they’re ready to attack they can hit us from two sides at once. We would not only have to defend this gate, but the eastern gate as well, and that would spread our archers too thinly. We don’t have enough men to deal with an assault from two sides.
‘And if we were forced to sally against an eastern assault, we’d have to ride out of the north gate and circle through miles of pasture lands and hedgerows, with no clear line of attack until we reach that beach—’
‘Where their archers would cut us to pieces,’ finished Brendan.
Martin considered the possibilities for a moment, then shouted, ‘Sergeant Ruther!’
The old soldier reappeared at Martin’s side. ‘Sir?’
