The lush grass of the lawn I stood on followed the low stone wall, finally giving way to a cobblestone pathway fifty feet to the north of me that led to a Holy House built of smooth limestone. The steeply pitched roof of the Holy House was sheathed in heavy, dark red clay tiles, so I guessed with that and its thick walls, the House was probably as impervious to fire as any building could be. That probably explained why no townspeople were working there, which I was grateful for, as we would have been in plain sight of them if they had been.
I glanced down at Sabina, who lay on her back five feet away from me, staring up at the sky as she fought to draw air into her lungs. Her dress was torn at the shoulder and most of the hem at her ankles had burnt away, revealing soot-encrusted legs. I noticed her scorched leather sandals were barely clinging to her red and peeling feet. My men lay beside Sabina, while Odiman stood near his men, his ravaged face raised to the sky with his eyes closed. A cool breeze was blowing over us, a relief after the searing heat from moments before. I could see the wind toying with the few long strands of beard left clinging to Odiman’s chin that the flames had spared.
Combined, the House Agent and I had twelve men between us that had made it out alive. Not even enough to man a full set of oars, I thought grimly, let alone enough to conquer an entire town. I turned sharply as something inside the granary behind me collapsed, then, with a groan of resignation, the building slowly caved in upon itself, sending flames and sparks shooting skyward.
Jebido and I watched the final death throes of the granary together in silence. “We have to move, Hadrack,” he finally said as the last column wobbled and then fell. The joy of cheating death from a moment ago was gone from his features now, replaced by a grim seriousness.
“I know,” I grunted back. I’d been thinking the same thing.
One townsman and seven soldiers had survived the flames with us. I saw several of them staring at Jebido and me with tired, wary eyes. The townsman was lying on his side and looked to be sleeping or unconscious, while a soldier with a badly singed beard sat beside him, repeatedly coughing into his hand. The soldier hacked and spat, then wiped his hand on his trousers as he glanced briefly over his shoulder at the short wall behind him. I didn’t fail to notice that he casually loosened his sword in its scabbard when he turned back. The wolf and the stag will always revert to kind, I thought.
“Any ideas?” I asked.
Jebido nodded. A flap of oozing skin hung off the tip of his nose, but he seemed unaware of it. “We go for one of the gates while we still have surprise on our side.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I said, having come to the same conclusion. If we could get control of one of the gates, the remainder of Odiman’s forces outside might notice. But first we had to deal with the enemy right here. I knew one side or the other would eventually become the wolf, and I was determined that it would be us. “This has to be fast,” I grunted.
“Yes,” Jebido agreed. “And quiet.”
I crooked a finger at Baine and Tyris, who still lay on the grass recovering. “We are going to try for the gates,” I whispered as they joined us. I frowned at Baine. “Where is your bow?”
“Burned right off my back,” Baine said unhappily. His face was blackened with soot and a four-inch cut on his cheek was seeping dark blood. He turned to show me the back of his leather armor, which had been seared clean through. I could see charred, puckered skin running in a line across his back through the tear. “The quiver too.”
I glanced at Tyris. “Yours?”
“Still usable, my lord,” Tyris answered. The archer’s eyes were ringed in black circles like a raccoon.
“Good,” I said. I glanced at Baine. “Do you still have those knives of yours,” I asked, “or did they burn too?”
The last I’d checked, Baine had at least five knives hidden away on his body somewhere.
My friend slowly grinned. “I have them.”
I gestured toward the soldiers. “We’ll follow your lead, then.”
“Give me whatever gold you have,” Baine said.
I frowned. “Why?”
“We need a distraction.”
I nodded and, careful to keep it hidden from the town’s soldiers, I removed my money bag and slipped it into Baine’s hand.
“That’s it?”
“You are the one who wanted to stop at that inn,” I said in annoyance. “Remember?”
“A fair point,” Baine responded, having the grace to at least look slightly embarrassed.
He turned and began walking toward the enemy, jingling the moneybag loudly to get their attention. I saw several of Lord Branton’s men lift their heads curiously as Jebido and I casually shifted to their right, pretending to be watching the remnants of the burning granary. Odiman frowned at us, then his scalded face hardened in understanding as he realized what we were doing. He began to circle to the left.
“Gentlemen,” Baine said, pausing in the center of the sitting men. He indicated me. “My lord and master is a very wealthy man. He has asked me to reward you for your courage in helping him to escape.” Baine held the moneybag up and jingled it again. “This is but a small token of his gratitude. There will be plenty more to follow.”
Two of the soldiers stood eagerly, and one even put out a blackened, shaking hand. Baine smiled kindly at the man, repeating his promise of more to follow as he opened the moneybag. He started to move forward, then stopped just out of reach of the soldier’s open palm as he turned the moneybag upside down. The coins inside slid out, gleaming in the sunlight as they twirled downward end over end to land in the grass. Both soldiers gasped and immediately fell to their knees, searching for the gold, while the rest of their companions held back in indecision. I glanced at the man with the singed beard, who was looking directly at me and ignoring the fallen money completely. Suspicion lay heavily on his face as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword and started to get to his feet.
No fool this one, I thought just as a knife appeared in each of Baine’s hands. I’d seen Baine work with knives before, and I knew what was about to happen. I drew Wolf’s Head just as Baine dropped to one knee and threw both weapons at once in opposite directions. One knife caught the man with the singed beard in the throat just as he reached his feet. The other sank to the hilt in the eye of a soldier holding up a coin in triumph. Both men sagged limply and collapsed as Tyris’ bow sounded from behind me. A soldier sitting near me screamed as an arrow lodged in his bicep and he began to thrash about in agony. I was on the man in three quick strides, cursing under my breath as he continued to wail like a child who has just been flogged.
“Be quiet,” I growled as I landed my full weight on his chest, cutting off his cries.
I’d taken an arrow during battle before, and I have to say, I was a little embarrassed by the man’s antics. It doesn’t hurt that much. The wounded man looked up at me, shaking his head in pain and terror as he tried to gain enough breath to say something. I didn’t give him a chance as I quickly sliced the blade of my sword across his neck, silencing him for good. Jebido was already past me, swinging his sword wildly at a man with his hands up to protect himself. I saw another soldier twist and fall as Baine threw a third knife.
I stood, glowering as I stalked toward a soldier with a severely burned face sitting on the ground in apparent shock. He started to backpedal away from me with one hand while tugging awkwardly at his sword with the other. I hooked my toe under his knee and drew him across the grass to me, then lashed out with my foot, flattening his nose. The soldier collapsed on his back, then tried to push himself weakly away from me with his legs. I twirled Wolf’s Head in my hand and stabbed downward through his mail and into his chest as he gagged, choking on his own blood before he died.
I pulled my sword free and stood up, ready for more, then slowly relaxed. All the soldiers were down, and Odiman was striding toward the unconscious townsman with his blade dripping blood. I started to protest, but Odiman either didn’t hear me or did
n’t care. He slammed his sword savagely into the man’s back.
“You should have talked to me first before you tried this,” Odiman grunted angrily as he tore his sword free from the corpse.
“There wasn’t time!” I snapped, annoyed by the man’s tone.
We held eyes for a moment, then I looked away, watching Baine retrieving his knives. Now was not the time for a power struggle if we wanted to survive. Baine carefully cleaned his weapons on the grass, while Tyris worked at wiggling his arrows free from the bodies. I glanced again to the street. The attack had gone better than I could have hoped for, and no alarms had sounded as far as I could tell. Our movements had been vicious and quick and had taken only moments. The speed and savagery had even surprised the rest of our men, who were just now getting to their feet, most still looking dazed from the fire and confused by the sudden turn of events.
I glanced at Odiman. “We have to get to one of the gates,” I said.
“I’m aware of that,” Odiman said sarcastically.
“What about your men out there?” Jebido asked. “Will they come to our aid, or sit on their hands without you to lead them?”
Odiman paused for a heartbeat. His face was blistered red and black, with clear mucus running from the sores. Even the man’s eyebrows were gone, I noted, making his already ravaged face seem even more hideous. “They will come,” the surly House Agent finally said with a growl. “Malo will see to that.”
“Malo is chasing after Rorian,” I pointed out. “He might be miles away by now.”
Odiman sighed and I could see the anger slowly fading from his eyes. “Then we’ll have to kill every one of the bastards ourselves,” he said with a grunt. I was surprised to see a faint smile crease his blackened lips. “How do you want to handle this, Hadrack?” he asked.
I took a moment to collect my thoughts. I was sure Odiman was testing me and I was determined to make the right choice. But what was it? I had no idea what could be waiting for us once we reached the streets of the town. Should we march along in a shield wall, or try to bull our way through? A shield wall would be safer if they had archers, but it would also be slower and allow time for the enemy to prepare. I knew men were going to die no matter which choice I made, so I decided that at least with a quick rush, there was a chance some of us might survive.
“I say we go hard and fast,” I answered decisively.
Odiman nodded in approval. “A fine choice.”
“Which way do we go?” Baine asked, glancing from me to Odiman. “North or south?”
“The southern gate,” Odiman said immediately. There was no sign of the anger in him now, only cold, hard reason. I found my opinion of the House Agent going up a notch as he pointed to the north. “The trenches along the northern road are still open. My men can get to us sooner using the southern route.”
“There will be an awful lot of the bastards on the walls and gates by the time we get there,” Jebido warned.
I smiled wearily at him. “There always are.”
Baine nudged me with his elbow. “Hadrack, where is the girl?”
I glanced to where I’d last seen Sabina lying on the grass, but she wasn’t there now. I spun around, searching for her. Then I cursed when I saw the top of her red hair moving fast along the other side of the short wall. “Sabina!” I called out. “Wait!”
Sabina turned and looked back at me. Our eyes met briefly over the wall, and then she started to run.
“Damn,” Jebido grunted. “So much for catching them by surprise.”
“The wolf and the stag,” I growled in disgust. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that Sabina would betray us the first chance she got. But for some reason that I can’t explain, I’d started to think of her as being on our side.
“What?” Jebido said.
“Nothing,” I muttered. I looked at Odiman. “We have to go now before she alerts them.”
Odiman glared around at his men and mine. “If someone falls, you leave them behind. All that matters is taking the gate.” He pointed at Tyris. “You stay in the middle and keep your head down. We are going to need your bow again before this day is through.”
Odiman and I took the lead while my men and his bunched together in a pack around Tyris behind us. I saw Baine clutching one of the fallen soldier’s swords uncomfortably, and he grinned weakly at me. I knew my friend would have given just about anything to have a bow in his hands right about now. We swept around the low stone wall and rushed out onto the street. Feminine screams sounded almost immediately at the sight of us as men, women, and children with slopping buckets of water scurried to get out of our way. Sabina clearly hadn’t warned them about us yet. I wondered why not.
Two soldiers in full mail standing together in the street stared at us in amazement as we bore down on them. They seemed unsure of what to do, but Tyris’ bow hummed twice in rapid succession before they could decide. Both men fell twisting to the ground, and then we waited as the blond archer broke ranks to retrieve the arrows he’d shot. I ground my teeth in frustration at the delay, but I knew every arrow in Tyris’ depleted quiver would be needed now.
The dirt street was wide and straight, cutting through the middle of the town, with narrow cross-streets appearing every fifty paces. Tall houses lined both sides for as far as I could see, most pressed tightly together, helping to block our view of the outer walls and gates. Odiman and I led our men at a fast trot, expecting an attack at any moment. We traveled three blocks without seeing anyone, which surprised me, but as we reached the fourth block, a lone soldier appeared coming out of a three-story building. The man cried out in surprise at the sight of us and started to draw his sword, though what he expected to do against so many armed men, I’ll never know. Sim was the closest man to him and he lashed out with his axe, catching the soldier solidly in the stomach. The man screamed and fell backward into the building, disappearing except for one boot that hung over the threshold of the door. Suddenly, the watchtower bells began to clang urgently from the south, followed immediately by answering bells from the north and west. Either Sabina had finally warned them that we were coming, or someone else had.
We made it several more blocks without running into anyone other than a blind man taking a piss in the street, until finally, the houses gave way to a market square. I slowed, then halted, suppressing a curse. There were no fishmongers, vintners, nor butchers selling their wares in the market today, but instead, a densely packed mob of townsfolk stood waiting for us, blocking the exit to the south. There had to be at least fifty of them, I guessed. I could see most held axes, clubs, pitchforks, hoes, or just about anything else imaginable that might kill a man.
A tall, thin man with torn trousers and long black hair tied back stepped forward from the crowd. He had the air of leadership about him as he pointed a club at us. “You have gone far enough,” he said. “Drop your weapons.”
I heard movement from behind me and I glanced back. More townsmen were coming up the street behind us. Odiman whistled a quick command and the back rank of our men automatically turned to face the new threat.
“Get your rabble out of our way!” Odiman growled, pointing his sword at the thin man. “Or our boots will be walking over your twitching corpses as we pass.”
Most of the townsmen seemed agitated and nervous as they clutched their makeshift weapons. I knew that they had a right to be. None wore armor and, other than one skinny fellow holding a rusted sword with a broken tip, had no real weapons to speak of. They did have the numbers on us, however, but we wore mail or leather armor, had shields, and were armed with swords, axes, and a bow. But, more importantly than just that, we were all warriors—men who were well experienced in the art of dealing out death and destruction. I could see that most of those blocking our way were shopkeepers, potters, clothiers, clerks, and, from the looks of one old fellow missing all his teeth near the back, cobblers.
“Where are the soldiers?” I heard Jebido mutter from behind me.
I
had been wondering the same thing myself. I glanced at the force milling in the street behind us again, but saw no armor or weapons there either. Why send inexperienced townsmen against an armored foe, when they could have easily sent solders in their place? I thought of Lord Corwick and how he’d used men bound to him by fealty to take Gasterny. The heartless lord had cared nothing for the lives of those men. Was Lord Branton a similar breed of man willing to sacrifice these people just to wear us down first?
The difference here from Gasterny, though, I realized, was these men were not poor farmers dependant upon a lord’s generosity to survive. Many of these men had businesses and wealth of their own, so they should have been less willing to sacrifice their lives. That’s what soldiers were paid to do. I knew there had to be another explanation.
“This is your last warning,” the thin man threatened. “Drop your weapons, or we will kill the lot of you.”
Odiman took a step forward. “Go ahead and try,” he said with a sneer that twisted his already hideous face even more. “But bear in mind, you stinking farmer, that my blade will be coming for you first.” He glanced at a short man in the front row dressed in fine clothing that tried and failed to hide a ponderous belly. “And you will be next, little one. Fat men tend to squeal like pigs when you poke them with a sword.”
The small man’s face lost its color and he inadvertently took a step backward from the angry House Agent.
“Wait,” I said. It had suddenly dawned on me what might be going on here. I moved to stand beside Odiman. “My name is Hadrack,” I said to the thin man. “Who are you?”
“Alvar,” he replied suspiciously.
Alvar was wearing heavy boots, dirt-encrusted trousers, and a soiled tunic. His hands and fingernails were stained with rich black earth, and I could see heavy calluses on the tips of his fingers and his palms. Odiman had called Alvar a farmer, but I’d known farmers most of my life. Something told me that this man was not one of them. Many towns and castles employed gardeners that understood herbs and plants, with their most important task being to keep the walls clear of ivy and other such things that could be used to scale them. I suspected he was one of these.
The Wolf On The Run (The Wolf of Corwick Castle Book 3) Page 8
