Chapter 20

  Alyra and Rues desperately held onto each other as they ran frantically back into the city and to the safety of the gates that they had only just passed. Oarf and Eiriean fled right behind them as they tried desperately to stay together in the press of people. The screams of the injured echoed between the houses on either side of the gate, making it hard for anyone to hear each other. The smell of blood was in the air, also the stench of fear.

  “We are not going to get out before it starts. Quickly, let's get clear and go back to the inn. We can send word to your grandfather and figure out what to do next,” Oarf said.

  “Yeah, we should get clear. There are still people coming in. Oh my God! They are closing the gates. People are going to be trapped outside,” Rues took two steps toward the gate to try and stop them before they slammed down.

  Alyra stared in shock. “They just left them outside.”

  “There’s nothing we can do here. Let’s get to the inn,” Rues said, tugging Alyra’s arm. The first boulder landed behind the gate with a crash and crushed a man completely, driving his body into the stones so hard that chips of stone sprayed in every direction. The second one fell and landed a dozen feet away, destroying a cart that had never made it through the gate.

  The not at all orderly retreat from the gate devolved even further, everyone screaming and pushing and running. Everyone, men and women for themselves. Alyra looked up and saw that there were many more boulders beginning to arch down into the road. Still holding Rues, she began to run for her life, almost dragging her friend clear of the destruction.

  She looked for Eiriean and Oarf, but they were nowhere to be seen. “I don’t see them anywhere. We have to find them.”

  Rues grabbed Alyra and turned her back.

  “They will have gotten clear and be headed back to the inn. That was the plan. We should go there too.”

  “But what if they are hurt or something?”

  “They’ll be fine. We just have to get back to the inn,” Rues replied. They began to move along the buildings at the edge, staying out of the throng of people trying to escape. They turned into the first alley they came across, breathing heavily.

  ***

  Garen left the meeting in the map room worried about the information that Kiiryas had brought. Soldiers already in the city could compromise the city's defense completely, so he hurried through the streets, watching alertly for anything that seemed out of the ordinary for a city preparing for a siege.

  The vendors in the market were trying to sell the last of their stock, all the people frantically attempting to bid over one another to make sure that they had enough food to last.

  No one knew yet that the city’s stores would be opened to them after the siege started, by order of the Governor.

  If Garen hurried, he felt sure he should be able to reach the South Gate just before the guard changed. So, he picked up his pace and moved swiftly down the main road south of the market, heading toward the gate. And there, he came upon a group of guards heading south.

  “Sergeant, are you the relief for the South Gate?” Garen asked the man at the head of the guard group as they passed.

  But the guards kept moving, his approach unacknowledged.

  Garen reached for the guard bringing up the rear of the group, spinning him around to try and get a good look at his face. He didn’t recognize him. Now, at the intrusion, the whole group of guards came to a halt while Garen tried to process the momentary confusion. He had trained every guard in the city.

  The remainder of the men faced the other way, rigid.

  But why didn’t he remember this one? He had a good memory for faces and names. Something was amiss here. More than amiss. Something was untoward—likely, subterfuge.

  The guard sergeant was now walking back toward Garen.

  “When did this man join your group, Sergeant?” Garen asked as he stared intently at the man’s expressionless face.

  The selected guard raised his chin high in defiance, steely eyes gazing down as if he challenged Garen silently.

  “This man has been with me for months,” the sergeant replied. “He is new, but be sure he is one of our best men.”

  But the guard sergeant failed to look Garen in the eye.

  That alone said enough to tell him of an untruth being voiced. Garen spun around the other men one by one, silent, assessing each from every conceivable angle. He didn’t know any of the men in the guard patrol. Too late, he recognized the truth.

  He jumped back and drew his sword.

  As Garen set off slashing at the guard sergeant, the man stepped forward and used the chainmail on his arm to turn the blade. He reached up and grabbed Garen by the chin with his right hand, and snapped his neck.

  And now, in a rapid turnabout of the situation, he held Garen’s body as it went limp, then caught Garen's sword before it could clatter to the ground.

  “What should we do with him, Lord Hazk?” one of the men asked of the guard sergeant now holding Garen effortlessly in one hand, the body dangling there like a mannequin.

  A quick glance around revealed a bench in front of a shop of some kind. Hazk handed the man Garen's sword.

  “Sheath his blade and we’ll position him on that bench,” he said as he jerked his head at it. “Someone pour some whiskey on him and douse his clothing until he reeks of it. People will think he is drunk, and that will buy us some time.”

  They propped him up on the bench and poured the whiskey on him, making him look for all the world like a drunkard. As they began to move back down the street, an unnoticed trickle of blood ran from his nose.

  ***

  Sgt. Millis reached the East Gate a few minutes later; not having had far to go, it did not take him long to cover the distance there. He approached the gate now, and could see that the guards were out of position; they appeared to be in significant disarray. However, had Kiiryas not warned them, Sgt. Millis would never have noticed that something was off. While he also knew all of the guards on sight, he was less astute than many, and it would have taken him a long time to realize that these guards were new, and out of place—and quite frankly, suspicious characters, all of them. Walking calmly toward the gate, he raised his hand in greeting, the same as he usually would. As he approached the small group of the guards at the base of the gate, he asked, “Where is the sergeant? I thought Burlacher was supposed to be on this afternoon? So, where is he?”

  He made as if to see beyond the guards, looking for him.

  This query gave the guards enough delay to believe a civilized conversation was about to ensue. But it did not. Without hesitating further, Millis swiftly drew out his sword and ran the first guard through before anyone had time enough to react. He slashed his sword at the second soldier, too, shouting as the man parried his attack. But he could not take on all of them, and the third soldier stabbed Sgt. Millis from behind as he slashed at the second soldier. So, he had subdued two men, but a third was more than he could contend with on his own.

  ***

  “General Inehorn, the mages have maintained the fire, but they are wearing out. They say they are not sure, but they don’t think they will be able to hold it for much longer.”

  “They have done much better than I expected. Testing before the campaign did not show them to be nearly this effective. Prepare the troops to begin moving. We have gotten word that the West Gate to the city has been sealed and that the mage and his bodyguard have forced a retreat from the North Gate as well.

  “Have the captains split the force, half to cover the east side and half to remain here in the south. If Hazk is half as effective as he thinks he is, then he should be able to open both of those gates with the number of men he took with him.”

  “He’s a scary one, that Hazk is. I’m sure glad he is on our side. Really wouldn’t like to come up against him.”

  “Indeed. I don’t know what his goal is, but we will use him for now. Never forget, though, that Hazk has his own plan and goals and that as far as he is concerned, we are all expendable.”

  “Yes, sir. Anything else before I go to issue your orders, sir?”

  “Let’s walk through the plan one more time in case something unexpected happens and we lose communication. We have had a steady bombardment of the city for most of the day from an unknown range. The field fires that should have burned out hours ago are still going, and the heat and smoke from that will have hung over the city. The gates are sealed.

  “But we successfully managed to infiltrate the city with a number of our men before the attack began. So, once we enter, kill any guards who resist, but remember that we are trying to occupy the city, not completely destroy it. They have already shown more backbone than expected in sealing the West Gate.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “In another day, these will be our people. It will take time for them to accept it but once we control the city, it will be inevitable. After we are through the gates, I want as few accidents as possible, and no atrocities. The people will fight back some but show mercy and they will accept us faster.”

  “Understood, sir. I will make sure everyone is clear.”

  “Good. Now let us get everyone moving. I want us to be in position before the mages can’t hold anymore. Assign someone to each of them. They have done well, and I want to make sure that when they are done, there is someone to pull them back from the frontline and get them fed.”

  “Yes, sir.” He saluted and hurried away to deliver the general's orders.

  General Inehorn watched his personal aide move swiftly through the soldiers haphazardly sitting around, eating or resting in preparation for the fight coming up. It would not be long until they were in the city. The sections of the soldiers moved together as his orders filtered down, and the food was stowed away, the armor adjusted and given a final check.

  Most of these men had never fought in a real battle before this but they had seen the destruction of the village between here and the border as they moved through. He expected they would mostly be fine; there were some signs of nerves, for sure, but that was normal. He watched their preparation for a few more minutes before starting to walk through the camp.

  He liked to talk to the men and let them see him before a battle. They always seemed much calmer after that.

  ***

  “The scouting reports, as well as the reports from the city walls agree,” Glem said, pouring the coffee Lorne’s clerk had just brought in. “There is no movement on the western side of the city. The contingent of archers to the north is still there but they are not wasting arrows. As long as everyone keeps their head down on the wall, they don’t bother to shoot.

  We do have several reports of movement on the southern and eastern sides of the city. The fires still burning are creating a haze that makes it very hard to see the tree line. But there is enough agreement in them that I am inclined to think that is where most of the Southern Army is arrayed.”

  Lorne looked at the map spread out across the table. He leaned in and squinted, taking a close look, analyzing everything. The markers on it showed their best guess as to where everyone should be situated.

  “Let’s move most of the guard from the West Gate and North Gate, leaving only a token force at both locations to make sure that nothing changes, and sending a couple of extra runners to each to bolster communication.”

  “I only just caught the end of that as I came through the hall,” Jorick said as he stepped into the room, nodding at what he had apparently overheard. “Gate is sealed, anyway.” He noticed Glem standing with a cup. “Fresh pot? Any for me?”

  At Glem’s nod, he walked over and poured a cup. “The merchants that owned those houses are sure going to be pissed. But no one is going to come through that gate with less than a week's work. We should do something nice for the head engineer if we all survive this. He and his crew were perfect.

  “The debris from the houses was successfully piled behind the gate without putting much pressure on the gate itself, so that is a good piece of news. Once this is over, we can just remove the mess and I don’t think we will have to rebuild the gate.”

  “Good. We had gotten the report from your running that it was done but it’s good to hear it directly from you,” Lorne replied. They seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. The pressure in the room had just been taken down a notch.

  Shouting, and doors slamming in the outer room brought all the men suddenly to their feet, swords in hands. The formerly laid-back atmosphere had lasted but a few seconds, and now had been blasted away in a flurry of noise and activity.

  One of the younger guardsmen came running into the room in a panic and a bluster, his face mottled.

  “Garen…Garen’s dead.”

  He could barely spit out the words, as heinous as they were. He looked like a schoolboy caught up in a firefight; this incident was plainly bigger than the young man knew how to handle.

  Glem grabbed a chair and walked over to the young guard who was breathing heavily, his hands on his knees.

  “Sit. Breathe. Then tell us what happened. How did Garen die? Please, tell us.”

  Jorick had not yet sipped from the tea he had just poured from the pot, and he slid it gently across the tabletop to the panicked informant. “Here, you could use this. It’s strong and sweet. Get some energy into you.” He rested a calming hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Take your time. I know how hard it is.”

  Gratefully, the young man sat down, cupping his hands around the warming tea. “My group was on street duty. We were walking around, you know? Making sure that nobody got any bad ideas with the situation and all. We were on the south road from the market and there was someone—some guy—sitting on a bench, passed out, had some kind of alcohol all down the front of his tunic and he stank of it, stank to high heaven, in fact.

  “Anyway, we went up to him to wake him and send him on his way but when we got close, it was Garen. He had blood coming out of his nose and he was still warm. The others are bringing his body back here. I ran ahead to tell you.”

  Glem looked up at Lorne. “Dammit. Lorne, I’ll take Jorick and go try and reinforce the gate. If they killed Garen, that is probably where they are going to try and come in.”

  Their demeanors meant business, and it was clear they had no time to become enmeshed in emotion. Garen was one of their men but the time to speak of him would come later. For now, action was required—and fast. Who knew how many infiltrators might be making their way through that weak spot?

  ***

  The two men grabbed their weapons from the table and started walking rapidly toward the South Gate.

  "How did they get their soldiers inside? There are small pockets of fighting all over the city," Glem said to Jorick. As they walked, they could occasionally hear fighting. Shouts and screams, yells and scuffles filled the air now and then, and in the interim, the air smelled of gunshot and anxiety, and cold fear.

  "I don't know who could have done it, though. There were only a handful of people that even knew what was going on," Jorick replied.

  "It has to be one of them," Glem said.

  "But Glem, how, though? I mean, I’ve known all of those men for years. It’s not anyone I know… It can’t be."

  His face was contorted as he tried to think who it could be.

  "I don't know, but someone betrayed us all. You have family in the city. Garen’s dead and it’s not likely they would kill someone that was still useful to them. I am the most likely but until two weeks ago, I was drinking myself to a slow death in a village days from here. A long time ago, I trained Lorne. And one thing I can tell you, and that’s that he was a good kid. I can’t imagine him growing into a traitor. I am sure we could have been overheard during planning but aside from Lorne’s clerk, whom you all trust, I just don’t know.”

  “They are all good men. Every last one of them.”

  “I’m concerned about how they managed to get as many men into the city ahead of the army as they did. Think they had to be bringing them in a few at a time for several days," Glem replied.

  “This is going to get worse before it gets better. They won’t let the people out of the North Gate. And the West Gate is entirely sealed. If the enemies that got into the city are able to open either the East or South Gates, then we are going to be in trouble. I know that for a fact. There won’t be time for the relief from the capital to get here.”

  Three men rushed out from an alleyway on the side, their swords already drawn. Glem reached past the blade of the first man and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him off balance and causing him to stumble. He kicked the second man in the belly as he turned and sent him flying back. Jorick parried the first attack of the third man before running him through.

  He then turned on his heel to assist Glem—to find that both of the other men were lying there on the cold earth, dead already.

  Glem was leaning down to the first man to come out of the alley, who was on the ground. His head was bent sideways at an odd angle, blood around his ears. He was still, silent.

  “Dammit. Broke his neck when he fell. I wanted to ask him some questions. ‘s why I didn't kill him when he came out.”

  “Nothing for it now, is there? Let’s tuck the bodies back in the alley. At least that is three we won’t have to fight later.”

  Glem grabbed a man in each hand and dragged them into the alley, with Jorick dragging the third.

  “Nice work with the sword. Very efficient. You show a lot of promise. When this is all over, I’ll take you on as a student.”

  “Really? Thought I was too old for something like that.”

  “Two weeks ago, I would have agreed. I am re-assessing some things right now, let’s say. Consider my offer, and let me know when you can.” Glem leaned down and rifled through the three men’s clothes. “No medallions or military markers.”

  “With no markers, are you quite sure they are from the Southern Army? I mean, what’s to say—”

  “Look at their weapons. The swords all match, all made by the same armorer. Likely all issued and then taken out of their wages. There are no house or family weapons here. If they were a mix, I might consider that they were men just trying to take advantage of the situation and rob citizens.

  “But I don’t think that is the case. And if I am wrong, at least no one else is getting robbed by them.”

  “How many men do you think they got into the city?”

  “No way to know. I’ll take the South Gate. I want you to head to the East Gate. I need someone there that I can trust.”

  “Thank you.”

  ***

  “We should stay and look for Eiriean and Oarf. What if one of them is hurt?” Alyra asked.

  Rues watched the people streaming past the entrance to the alley. “No, we all agreed that if something happened, we would meet back at the inn and then make a new plan. They are probably headed there already.”

  Alyra peeked out of the alley in which they were crouched, and looked at the thousands of people still running around in the staging area. Everyone was scrambling, still trying to get clear of the destruction that was falling all around. Each boulder destroyed anything under it when it landed. They weren’t falling fast but the death that each one brought was terrifying.

  “After the next one lands, we’ll make a run for it. They are all landing in the middle. If we stay near the buildings, we can get farther away,” Rues said.

  Alyra peeked out again, trying to see the next one. “Ok. If we go around this building from the front and go down a couple doors, there’s another alley. We can just hop from one to another until we find one that goes through.”

  Another large stone crashed into the street, very near to them. Rues grabbed Alyra and they darted around the building. They ran along the front of it toward the next alley, and the crowd slammed into them, knocking them both to the ground as they pushed out from the street trying to avoid the next stone.

  Alyra Grabbed Rues, who seemed dazed by everything going on, and pulled her to her feet and along behind her. They finally turned into another alley and to the welcome safety it provided.

  “I think I recognize these buildings. Follow me,” Rues told Alyra. “I’m glad we just have these backpacks and weren’t trying to drag a cart. The sheath for my hammer worked well. It didn’t fall out.”

  A crowd of people started pushing into the alley, trying to escape the destruction still raining down.

  “Rues, your head is bleeding. I think you cut yourself when we fell back there. We need to get somewhere to clean it up.”

  “That explains why I'm so fuzzy right now. I think I know someplace we can get out of the crowd. Follow me.”

  Rues led Alyra down the alley away from the chaos.

  Several turns later, they stepped into a familiar forge.

  “We are not taking orders right now,” came a deep, abrupt voice from off in the shadows somewhere toward the back. The forge lay unused and silent, the smith presumably lying low.

  “That's ok, we are not looking to have something fixed by your apprentice’s shoddy workmanship,” Rues replied.

  “Come to reconsider my offer?” asked the voice, clearly suddenly recognizing who it was that had entered. “I apologize for my rudeness—I didn’t know…”

  “It’s fine, we feel the stress too. We just needed a place to hide. The battle is starting and the people leaving the city were ambushed and forced back in. Can we rest here for a few minutes? We’ll stay quiet, you won’t even know we’re here.”