A Darkness at Sethanon

by Raymond Feist

  Arutha engaged a moredhel who had leaped over the body of a fallen Armengarian soldier, and slashed out, causing the dark elf to stumble backward. The moredhel fell off the parapet to the stones below.

  The Prince spun around and saw Guy kill another. The Protector looked about and shouted, “We can’t hold them here! Pass the word to fall back to the citadel!”

  Word was passed and suddenly defenders were scrambling away from those gaining the wall from outside. A select company of soldiers held each stairway while their companions fled toward the city. They were all volunteers and all were prepared to die.

  Arutha ran across the bailey and saw the last of the defenders on the wall overwhelmed. As he reached the midway point across the large open area, attackers leaped from the stairs and headed for the gate. Suddenly a rain of arrows came from the roofs of the buildings opposite the gate and to the last the attackers died. Then Guy was at Arutha’s side, with Amos running past.

  “We can hold them off the gatehouse until they establish their own bowmen on the wall. Then our men will have to pull back.” Arutha looked up and saw that planks were being extended across the streets from the roofs of the buildings facing the bailey. When the archers quit the first line of buildings, they would pull the planks after them. The goblin host would have to use rams to break in doors, climb the stairs, and engage the bowmen in a duel. By then the bowmen would have retreated to another line of houses. They would constantly fire down into the streets, forcing the invaders to pay for every foot gained. Over the last month, hundreds of quivers of arrows had been left under oilcloth upon those rooftops, along with replacement strings and additional bows. By Arutha’s best judgement, it would cost Murmandamus no fewer than an additional two thousand casualties to travel from the first bailey to the second.

  Running toward the bailey came a squad of men with large wooden mallets. They waited before heavy barrels placed at the corners, listening for the command. For a moment it appeared they would be overwhelmed, for a sea of goblins and their allies came swarming off the walls. Then a company of horsemen swept out of a side street, rolling back the invaders.

  Arrows came flying past Guy and Arutha, and the Protector said, “Their archers are in place. Sound retreat!”

  A trumpet blast sounded from the squad of bowmen who were positioned halfway up the street, and the men with mallets struck the barrels, knocking small stoppers from bungs. Quickly the smell of oil mixed with the rusty odor of blood hanging in the air as the oil began slowly to leak out. The mallet-wielding soldiers at once began to race up the streets, where barrels waited at every corner.

  Guy tugged at Arutha’s sleeve. “To the citadel. We begin the next phase.”

  Arutha followed after Guy as the bloody house-to-house fighting began.

  —

  For two hours the terrible struggle continued, while Guy and Arutha watched from the first command post atop the wall of the citadel. In the city the shouts of fighting men could be heard, and the curses and screams continued unabated. At every turn in the city a company of archers waited, so that each block gained by the invaders was over the bodies of their comrades. Murmandamus would take the outer city, but he would pay a terrible price for it. Arutha revised his estimate of Murmandamus’s casualties upward to three or four thousand soldiers to reach the inner bailey and the moat about the citadel. And he would still have to deal with the inner fortifications of Armengar.

  Arutha watched in fascination. It was beginning to become difficult to see clearly, for the sun had fallen behind the mountains and the city was in shadow. Night was only an hour or so away; still, he could make out most of what occurred. The unarmored, nimble archers were moving from rooftop to rooftop by means of the long planks that they pulled after themselves. A few goblins attempted to climb the outside of buildings but were shot down by bow fire from other buildings. Guy studied the continuing battle with a keen eye. Arutha said, “This city was built for this sort of battle.”

  Guy nodded. “Had I to design one to bleed an opposing army, I couldn’t have done better.” He looked hard at Arutha. “Armengar will fall, unless aid arrives within the next few hours. We have until tomorrow morning at the longest. But we’ll cut the bastard; we’ll hurt him badly. When he marches against Tyr-Sog, he’ll have lost a third of his army.”

  Arutha said, “A third? I would have said a tenth.”

  With a grin devoid of humor, Guy said, “Watch and you’ll see.” The Protector of Armengar shouted to a signal man, “How much longer?”

  The man waved a white and blue cloth toward the top of the citadel. Arutha looked up and saw an answering wave with a pair of yellow cloths. The soldier said, “No more than ten minutes, Protector.”

  Guy thought, then said, “Launch another catapult strike at the outer bailey.” Orders were given and a shower of heavy stones was launched at the far end of the city. Softly, almost to himself, he said, “Let them think we’ve overextended our range, and maybe they’ll hurry to get inside.”

  Time passed slowly, and Arutha watched as the archers retreated from roof to roof. As day faded to twilight, a company of ambushers was dashing along the street, heading for the drawbridge and outer gate of the citadel’s barbican. As the first company made for the lowered bridge, another and a third company came into view. Guy watched as the gate commander ordered it retracted. The last soldier had just set foot upon it as it began to move across the moat. From the rooftops of the city more Armengarian archers fired down upon the invaders.

  Arutha said, “They are brave, to stay behind.”

  Guy said, “Brave, yes, but they’re not planning to die.” Even as he spoke the archers on the rooftops were reaching the last line of houses. They lowered ropes to the street level and quickly slid down. They ran toward the citadel, tossing aside weapons as they ran. From behind, attackers swarmed after them. As the attackers were half-way across the open area used as a market, bowmen upon the wall of the citadel launched a flight of arrows. The Armengarians who were fleeing ran to the edge of the moat and dove in.

  Arutha said, “They’ll be shot down if they try to climb the wall.” Then he saw they didn’t surface.

  Guy smiled. “There are underwater tunnels into the gatehouse and other rooms contained in the wall. Our boys and girls will come up, then the entrances will be sealed.” A particularly bold group of goblins came running after and leaped into the water. “Even if those scum find the tunnels, they’ll not be able to open the trapdoors. They’d better be part fish.”

  Amos came from within the citadel. “We’ve everything ready.”

  “Good,” answered Guy, regarding the top of the citadel where Armand observed the fighting in the city.

  A yellow banner was waved. “Ready catapults!” shouted Guy. For a long time nothing happened; at last Guy said, “What is de Sevigny waiting for?”

  Amos laughed. “He’s watching Murmandamus leading his army through the gates, if we’re lucky, or at least waiting for another thousand or so to come inside.”

  Arutha was studying the nearest catapult, a giant mangonel, now loaded with a strange-looking assortment of barrels lashed loosely together. The barrels were similar to the small brandy casks used in inns and alehouses, holding no more than a gallon. Each bundle was composed of twenty or thirty such casks.

  Amos said, “The signal!”

  Arutha watched as a red banner was waved and Guy shouted, “Catapults! Fire!” Along the wall a dozen of the giant catapults heaved their cargo of barrels, which arced high over the roofs of the city. As they traveled, the casks spread out, so that they struck the outer bailey in a shower of wood. The crew reloaded with a speed Arutha found astonishing, for in less than a minute another launch was ordered and another flight of casks was sent. While a third flight of casks was prepared, Arutha noticed smoke coming from one quarter of the city.

  Amos saw it, too, and said, “The little darlings are doing some of our work for us. They must have started a tidy fire to punish
us for not staying around to die. It must be something of a shock to be standing next to it when it starts raining naphtha.”

  Arutha understood. As he watched, the smoke increased rapidly and began spreading along a line indicating that the entire outer bailey area was catching. “Those barrels at every corner?”

  Amos nodded. “Fifty gallons in each. The first block we broke the barrels, so it’s all over the ground from the buildings to the wall. A lot of those murderers have been traipsing about in it and will likely find their feet and legs are covered. We have barrels in every building and one on every roof. At the time the horses were taken out of the city, during the second phase of evacuation, we also halted controlling the flow of oil upward. Every basement in the city is now ready to explode. The city’s going to provide a warm reception for Murmandamus.”

  Guy signaled and the third flight of casks was sent. But the center pair of catapults heaved stones wrapped in burning oil-soaked rags, which coursed across the sky in a fiery arc. Suddenly an entire area near the barbican in the outer wall exploded with bright light. A tower of flames rose upward, climbing higher and higher. Arutha watched. A moment later he heard a dull thump, followed quickly by a hot breeze. The flames kept rising and for the longest time seemed likely never to stop. Then they began to subside, but a tower of black smoke continued to rise, flattening out in an umbrella over the city, reflecting the orange glow of the inferno below. “The barbican is gone,” said Amos. “We stored a few hundred barrels under the gate complex, with vents to let the flame in. They go with a bang. If we were half the distance closer to the wall, our ears would be ringing.”

  Shouts and curses sounded from the city as the flames began to spread. The catapults continued to launch their explosive cargo into the flames. “Shorten the range,” Guy ordered.

  Amos said, “We’ll drive them toward the citadel, so our bowmen can have some target practice with those that don’t get roasted.”

  Arutha observed the intensifying heat. Another explosion came, followed quickly by another series, each echoed by a dull thud a moment later. Hot winds blew toward the citadel as spiraling towers of flames began to dance in the outer city. Again more explosions came, and from the dazzling display it was evident a great store of the barrels had been left in strategic locations. Pounding at the ears, the dull rumbles of explosion after explosion indicated that flaming death marched rapidly from the outer bailey toward the citadel. Soon Arutha could tell the difference between a bunch of barrels igniting and a cellar explosion simply by the sound. It was, as Guy had said, a warm reception for Murmandamus.

  “Signal,” said a soldier, and Guy looked up. Two red banners were being waved, now clearly seen in the blaze from the city despite the sun’s having set.

  “Armand’s signaling that the entire outer city is in flames,” said Amos to Arutha. “Impassable. Even those Black Slayers will be crisped if they’re caught inside.” He grinned evilly as he stroked his chin. “I just hope the grand high bilge-sucker himself was in a hurry to enter at the head of his army.”

  From the city came shouts of terror and anger and the sound of running feet. The flames were marching in a steady course toward the inner bailey, their progress marked by dull explosions every few minutes as barrels at each corner ignited. The heat could now be felt, even upon the wall of the citadel. Arutha said, “This fire storm will suck the air right out of their lungs.”

  Amos nodded. “We hope so.”

  Guy looked down a minute, revealing the depth of his fatigue. “Armand designed this final plan. He’s a bloody genius, maybe the best field commander I’ve ever had. He was to wait until it appeared as many had entered as possible. We’re going to have to attempt an escape through the mountains, so we must hurt them as much as we can.”

  But Arutha saw, behind his matter-of-fact words, the defeated look of a commander whose position is about to be lost. Arutha said, “You’ve conducted a masterful defense.”

  Guy only nodded, and both Arutha and Amos knew he was silently saying, It wasn’t enough.

  Now the first of the fleeing invaders came running toward the citadel, halting when they realized they were exposed to the view of those upon the wall. They crouched in the lee of the last building, as if waiting for some miracle to deliver them. The number of Murmandamus’s soldiers fleeing the flames increased as the fire continued its advance through the city. The catapults continued to feed the casks of naphtha to the fire, shortening their range every second launch so as to bring the flames closer and closer to the inner bailey. Now those upon the wall of the citadel could see flames exploding upon the rooftops only a half-dozen houses away from the market, then five houses, then four. Shouting moredhel, goblins, and humans, with a scattering of trolls and giants, began to fight among themselves, for as the press of those fleeing the impossible heat continued, more were being pushed into the open. Guy said to Amos, “Order the archers to open fire.”

  Amos shouted the command, and the Armengarian archers began to fire. Arutha watched in stunned amazement. “This isn’t warfare,” he said softly. “It’s slaughter.” The invaders were so crowded together at the edge of the market that any arrow that reached them struck someone. They were falling over the dead as they were continuously pushed from behind. More casks of oil were thrown and the flames continued their inexorable march toward the citadel.

  Arutha held up his hand, for the light of the conflagration was now near-blinding to look at and the heat was becoming uncomfortable. He realized how devastating it must be for those creatures at the edge of the market who were standing a hundred yards closer.

  Then more barrels exploded, and with shrieks and cries there was a general break for the citadel. Many of those who raced across the bailey were shot down, but some number of them dove into the moat. Those wearing chain mail sank as they vainly tried to remove the armor underwater, and even some in leather sank. But many cleared the surface, paddling about like dogs.

  Arutha judged a full two thousand dead lay in clear view. Another four or five thousand must have perished in the city. The Armengarian bowmen were beginning to tire so much they could hardly hit the targets clearly outlined against the flames.

  Guy said, “Open the pipes.”

  An odd wheezing noise was heard as oil was discharged across the water in the moat. Cries of terror filled the air as those in the water came to understand what was occurring. As flames spread out across the bailey from the now completely burned-out city, flaming bales were pushed over the wall, to fall to the moat. The surface of the water exploded in blue-white flames, which danced across the churning surface. Quickly the shrieks diminished, until at last it was over.

  Arutha and the others were forced to pull back from the wall as waves of heat rose from the moat. When the flames burned out, he glanced down and saw black husks floating in the moat. He felt ill and saw his feelings were reflected in Guy’s expression. Amos only looked on grimly. While the city burned out of control, Guy said, “I feel the need of a drink. Come along. We only have a few more hours.”

  Without words, Amos and Arutha followed the Protector of a dying city toward the inner building of the citadel.

  —

  Guy drained his flagon, then pointed to the map on the table. Arutha looked on beside a soot-stained Briana, who, along with the other commanders, was awaiting Guy’s final orders. Jimmy and Locklear had come from their last duty station and were standing at Arutha’s side. Even inside the council chamber they could feel the heat from the continuing fire as the catapults poured more naphtha into the blaze. Whatever part of Murmandamus’s army had escaped the trap was being forced to wait outside the outer wall by an inferno.

  “Here,” said the Protector, indicating one of several green spots on the map, “are where the horses are hidden.” He said to Arutha, “They were moved out of the city during the second phase of evacuation.” He addressed the entire company. “We don’t know if the goblins have stumbled across any or all of them. But we hop
e several have remained safe. I think they assumed we had pulled back behind our redoubts up there at last, and felt no need to stay vigilant behind us. The secret tunnel out of the city is still secure; only one patrol of Dark Brothers has come remotely near it, and they were observed to have walked away without investigating that area. The general order is as follows:

  “Each company will quit the city in turn, from First to Twelfth, with whatever auxiliaries were assigned to that company. They are to quit the tunnel only after it is clear the area around is secured. I want First Company to act as a perimeter unit, until the Second begins to replace it. When the Twelfth begins to leave the tunnel, the Eleventh will move out as well. Only those soldiers designated to remain here as the rear guard will be permitted to stay. I’ll have no last-minute heroics jeopardizing this evacuation. I don’t want any misunderstandings. Is everyone clear on what they are to do?”

  No one made any comment, so Guy said, “Good. Now, make sure it is understood by everyone that once outside the city it is every man for himself. I want as many to reach Yabon as possible.” With cold anger in his voice, he said, “Someday we shall rebuild Armengar.” He paused, as if the words were difficult. “Begin the final phase of evacuation.”

  The commanders left the room and Arutha said, “When do you leave?”

  Guy said, “Last, of course.” Arutha looked at Amos, who nodded.

  “Do you mind if I stay with you?”

  Guy looked surprised. “I was going to suggest you go out with the Second Company. First may find surprises, and the later ones may run into reinforcements called into the mountains. The last to leave stand the biggest chance of being overtaken.”

  Arutha said, “I don’t know if I believe I’m some sort of champion destined to destroy Murmandamus, but if I am, I think perhaps I should stay.”