Planet of Hope: A History of Esperanza
William and Jack raced to the gate and found Guards and other men bracing it shut as a determined band of attackers shook and rattled it from the other side. “How did you get them outside?” William asked a Guard as he put his shoulder to the gate.
“Charlie pushed the intruders out before they got organized. Then he told me to raise the alarm and bar the gate.”
“Where’s Charlie now?” asked Jack.
“He ran to the farms to bring the families here.”
“King’s breath, that’s suicide,” said Jack, his eyes wide.
William shook his head. “Don’t count him out yet, Jack.”
The rebels ceased pushing the gate, but the relief was short-lived. Balls of flame soon flew over the palisade into the compound, some landing harmlessly on the ground, others lighting rooftops on fire. William was tempted to help douse the fires, but few others had weapons and he knew he could not leave the gate. They had no water for fighting fires anyway; no one had expected to be trapped inside the palisade.
The gate shook again; the fires were just a diversion. The defenders pushed back before the rebels could break in, but it took all their combined strength. The beam across the gateway was bent almost to snapping. William called to a stunned bystander, “Find something to barricade the gate!” The man responded; woken from his daze, he nodded and ran toward a smoldering lumber pile.
“He’d better hurry,” said Jack with a grunt as he slammed his body against the gate. “I’m not sure how much longer we can keep them out.”
“Will! Jack!” Rachel waved her arms at them from the watchtower. She pointed outside. “Charlie.”
William yelled over the din to make himself heard. “Get ready to cover us!” She nodded her acknowledgment.
“What on Esper are you planning?” asked Jack.
“Listen, everyone,” yelled William. “Charlie’s coming back, hopefully with those families. We need to open the gates, let them in, and then close the gates again. That means we have to attack hard, then get back in fast. Ready?”
“Now, Will!” yelled Rachel.
William signaled for the gates to be opened and led the charge. The rebels retreated in surprise, momentarily in disarray. Charlie sprinted from the woods, ushering a dozen or so people, including children. The gates were slammed shut just as the rebels reformed their line and began the counterattack. William spotted three bodies outside before the gate closed. He scanned his allies who were busy bracing the gate with wooden posts. “Anyone missing?” he asked. No one answered. Good; three of theirs, though whether by arrow or sword, he couldn’t be sure. He wiped the blood from his sword and sheathed it.
The fire attacks came from all sides now. The rebels appeared more intent on destruction than breaking in. The Guard was fully deployed now, at least those who were inside when the attack started. Mattice was leading them now, but they had nowhere to attack inside the walls. “Whitehall!” he yelled. “Report!”
“At least twenty outside the main gate, three dead.”
“Any of ours dead?”
“None that I know of.”
“They have at least that many on every side,” said Mattice. “We have people throwing dirt on the fires now, but there’s not much else we can do inside the fence.”
“You’re thinking of making a foray?” asked William.
“It’s the only way to fight them.”
“Mind if we join you?”
“Will,” said Jack. “Are you crazy?”
“Yes!” said William, his knuckles white from clenching his fists. “Right now I’m crazy. I’ve been attacked by these people before, held captive, starved, tortured and nearly killed. I’m sick of them, and if that makes me crazy, so be it. Are you in, or out?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “No need for the dramatics. I’m in.”
“We need information,” said Mattice. “Can that girl of yours up there tell us where Antony is?”
“All of us can,” said William.
“Will, no!” said Jack.
Mattice looked at them both. “Where is he?”
“Dead,” said William.
Mattice grabbed William by the shirt. “Why don’t I know about this?”
“Because you got here yesterday, and I don’t answer to you,” said William as he pushed the man’s hands from him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” said Mattice. “But right now I’ll take any good news. It means there’s a rabble out there without a leader.”
“A large and armed rabble,” said Jack.
“If you’re scared, stay inside,” said Mattice with a sneer.
Jack gave the Guard Captain a dirty look. “No need for the insults, Captain. I have no intention of hiding inside.”
“Fine. But when this is over, I’ll be teaching you some manners.” Mattice turned to the men who awaited his orders. “Men! Shield wall!” The men snapped into formation six men across and three deep, their shields covering their front, sides and heads, and their spears thrust forward. To William’s eyes they looked like a giant spiked turtle. “Get behind us, lads,” said Mattice to William and Jack. “Don’t let them attack our rear.”
Mattice gave the order for the gate to be opened, and William and Jack did their best to keep up. The formation slammed into the mass of rebels, knocking several down and scattering the rest. The uninjured rebels ran into the woods, refusing to engage the Guards directly.
Mattice threw his shield down in disgust. “King’s feet, there’s no way we can stay in formation if we follow them in there. They still outnumber us and we can’t maneuver in the trees.”
“What’s their next move?” asked William.
“That depends on what their goal is and how smart they are.” Mattice had no better option than circling the compound and engaging the rebels where he could find them. But as soon as they scattered one group, another would emerge from the woods on the opposite side, throwing burning rags and rushes, and hacking at the palisade. The rebels adapted to Mattice’s attack method and scattered before the Guards reached them. If Mattice split his force to cover every spot, they would be spread thin and overwhelmed. The only casualties now came from Rachel’s bow, and even those were few as the rebels concealed themselves behind the very walls they were attacking.
The fires spread inside; dust and dirt could not douse the flames fast enough. Holes grew in the wooden wall and no trained Guards were inside to defend them. Cursing, Mattice ordered his men inside to fight the final battle.
Inside, William gaped at the damage done during their short foray. Nearly every building was ablaze. Only the infirmary and the office stood untouched. The flames made it difficult to find a place to wait for the final breach. Guards defended the gaps, fighting back the rebels who cut at them, but it was clear the defenders were outnumbered.
A scream rose above the roar of the flames, and a primal yell escaped William’s lips as the watchtower collapsed in a ball of fire. William acted too late to stop Jack as his friend shot toward the wreckage and disappeared into the inferno.
He was torn. The rebels would be pouring in any moment, possibly from more than one entrance; chasing after Jack and Rachel would weaken their defenses. But leaving his friends to their fate was unthinkable. With one eye on the wall he silently urged his friend to escape. He was about to leave the wall to the Guards when Jack emerged from the flames carrying a body, smoke billowing from his clothes. He couldn’t tell whether Rachel was alive or not, but Steve followed Jack as he ran to the infirmary. If Steve had survived the fall, perhaps Rachel had as well.
With a deep breath of relief he turned his attention to the wall. The holes were getting larger; the rebels would be inside soon. With Rachel gone they had not a single archer; what a colossal oversight that not one Guard was a trained bowman. Just three or four might have kept the attackers at bay longer. He vowed to learn the skill himself…if he lived through the night.
A ch
orus of yells alerted him that the wall was breached on the far side. He followed the Guards as they ran to push them back, and he saw Charlie standing at the opening, his spear whipping through the air like a twirling baton. One rebel was knocked back several feet and lay motionless beside several of his fallen brethren.
An entire section of the wall fell over; rebels poured through it toward Charlie. William rushed to Charlie’s side in time to block a flank attack on the former Guard. The would-be attacker fled, his arm severed above the elbow.
Rebels swarmed from all around the palisade to concentrate their attack at the largest breach. A ragged line of men soon faced the small band of Guards, waiting for the order to attack. Malicious grins belied their expectations of victory. William knew how disciplined these rebels could be, but he had expected that discipline to vanish with Antony’s demise. A figure emerged from the dark and joined the line of rebels, and as the attack order was given, William realized who had taken Antony’s spot.
Ray Findlay. The Keeper. The man who had so relished inflicting pain on William, hoping to force him to betray his father’s memory. The lieutenant who had mentored a young man in the sadistic art of torture, a young man whose father’s crops William had helped harvest. Their eyes met, and in that glance he saw that whatever else happened, Ray Findlay had no intention of allowing William to live.
The mob moved. It was a poorly armed mob, but a well-trained one, and William steeled himself for the onslaught. The line of rebels marched forward, weapons brandished, with not a gap between them. The Guards stood ready, their shields locked together and spears thrust forward, determined to exact a price. William stood at the line’s end, his father’s old shield part of its old unit once again. His sword rested at his side, ready to be raised in a final defense.
As the line of attackers approached, William had time to muse. Here he was, standing in formation with the Guard, a full member in everything but name. His old dream was fulfilled after all. The absurdity of the situation made him laugh. If it’s my final dream, he thought, let it be the best, regardless of the ending. The rebels charged. William locked eyes with Findlay, who headed directly for him. William raised his sword.
A screech pierced the air behind him. Several dragons emerged from the smoke overhead and smashed into the attackers. Bodies crumpled underneath the massive weight; several more were tossed backward like rag dolls. The surviving rebels panicked and broke ranks but a second line of dragons blocked them. These were not the giant black dragons, nor the little copper ones. These were silver drones, the most imposing dragons William had seen. In mere seconds they had ended the battle, capturing the rebels in one smart maneuver, without resorting to unwanted flames.
The Guards beside him retreated in fear, and stood at a distance. Only Charlie remained beside him. William put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Some wedding night, isn’t it?” Charlie smiled and nodded.
Mattice had kept his distance, but now he approached William. “Whitehall, are those real dragons, or is this some sort of trick?”
“Those are real, Sir Hendrick. They swore us to secrecy, but I guess that’s not an issue anymore.”
Mattice stared in disbelief at the ring of dragons that held the rebels captive. “You’ve seen them before.”
“We were captives of theirs once.”
Mattice turned to Charlie, his face a mixture of bewilderment and anger. “Walker, why didn’t you report this?”
Charlie lowered his eyes. “I was following orders, sir.”
“Whose?”
“Will’s, sir. He was my commander then.”
“It was the price of our freedom, Sir Hendrick,” said William. “We’ve made progress in our relations with them, but they have never released us from that promise.”
The largest silver drone approached them. Mattice backed away until he noticed that William and Charlie didn’t move. The dragon’s head towered even above Charlie’s.
“William Whitehall,” said the dragon.
“King’s wings,” said Mattice. “This is a fantasy come alive.”
“Yes,” said William to the drone. “I am William Whitehall.”
“Our scouts report that your enemies are all captured or dead.”
“All of them?” asked Mattice, his military training snapping him out of his daze. “We’ve thought that before.”
William interjected. “Sir Hendrick, if he says all, he means all. They have no trouble seeing in the dark, and they are airborne.”
“What shall be done with these?” asked the drone, indicating the captured rebels with a nod of his massive head.
“They still outnumber us,” said Mattice. “Whitehall, ask if they can hold them for a while.”
William turned to the giant drone. “If you don’t mind standing guard a little longer, we can remove and secure them one by one.”
“They will remain confined until you are ready,” answered the silver.
“Sir Hendrick,” said William. “There’s one rebel in particular you’ll want to question. I know him from my time here before, and he seems to be the leader now that Antony is dead.”
“Come point him out to me, and I’ll make special arrangements for him,” said Mattice as he shook his head in disbelief. “Dragons. I can’t believe I’m seeing dragons.”
William took his leave after indicating Findlay and ran with Charlie to the infirmary to check on their friends. They arrived none too soon. Maya was doing her best to treat the wounded, but the majority of cases were burns. A dozen cots or so were occupied by patients with various parts of their bodies bandaged, some with missing patches of hair and skin. William’s stomach turned at the smell of burned flesh and the patients’ whispered moans. The sight was unbearable, and for all William had gone through at the hands of the two Finns, he would never have traded places with these patients. And yet, he could tell from Maya’s face that hers was the greatest pain in the room. Still, somehow, she held her composure long enough to treat the last one.
“Are you okay?” asked Charlie as he held her.
She nodded, but William was not convinced.
Jack tugged on William’s sleeve. “Will.”
“Oh, you’re here,” said William. “I didn’t see you.”
Jack pointed at the nearest bed. A slender form lay on it, legs bandaged, arm slung and splinted, head wrapped completely so that the face was hidden. William recognized Steve lying beside the bed, then realized the figure on the cot was Rachel. He stifled the emotions that wanted to pour out in empathy of his fallen friend. “She looks so frail,” he said, his voice quivering. “Is she…?”
“She’s alive,” said Jack. “Knocked out cold. At least she can’t feel the pain right now. Her arm was broken during the fall, and her legs were burned.” Never in William’s memory had Jack been this serious, this concerned. The night’s carnage and destruction faded, and for a moment William felt nothing but his friend’s anguish.
“Burns and broken bones heal, Jack. She’ll be okay.”
Jack’s face contorted with pain as tears escaped his eyes. “She hit her head, Will. Hard. She hasn’t woken up yet. Maya won’t say anything, but I can tell she’s worried.”
What could he say? Rachel would prefer a clean death to a lingering one, or even life as an invalid. It would be painful for Jack to watch that choice be taken from her. William knew he couldn’t say “it’ll be okay,” because it probably wouldn’t be; all he could do was share his friend’s pain. In all the time he had known Jack, they had never hugged each other. It would have felt weird. Tonight, it didn’t.
Jack wiped his tears as they separated. “Have you seen my dad?” he asked.
“King’s biscuits,” said William, forgetting to keep his voice down. “I’m an idiot.”
“What?” asked Jack.
“I left him and Dayna in the office and told them to bolt it and not let anyone in.”
“Is the office…”
“The fire didn’t get that
far. But I better go see if someone has told them it’s okay to come out now.”
“Will, I’m…tell my dad…”
“Stay here. He’ll understand.”
William rushed out the door and ran to the office and found Sir Hiram replacing the valuables he had hidden. “Good to see you, lad!” he said, the relief in his face evident.
“Will!” A knife clattered to the floor as William was crushed by Dayna’s embrace. “You’re okay. You didn’t come back, and the Guard who found us didn’t know what happened to you…King’s mercy, you’re alive.”
“I’m fine. Jack’s okay, too. He missed the worst of it when he took Rachel to the infirmary.”
“What happened to Rachel?” asked DoranSir Hiram.
“She fell from the tower when it burned down.” Doran winced as William described her injuries, but was relieved that Maya and Charlie were unhurt.
“So how did we finally prevail?” asked Doran. “The Guard that came wouldn’t say.”
William smiled, his first time since the attack. “More likely he didn’t believe it.”
Doran grinned in response. “So they came! Are they still here?”
“Who came?” asked Dayna.
“Come see,” said William, grabbing Dayna by the hand.
Doran quickly locked the valuables away and followed them out the door. As he closed it behind him, a man screamed somewhere in the dark distance.
“That can’t be good,” said William.
“They wouldn’t hurt one of our people, would they?” asked Sir Hiram.
“Who wouldn’t?” asked Dayna.
“I have no doubt they would if necessary,” said William, his face grim. “But I don’t think that’s what’s happening.”
“You don’t think what’s happening?” asked Dayna.
“Who’s being hurt, then? And by whom?” asked Doran.
“I believe Sir Hendrick is entertaining one of our guests,” said William.
Dayna halted, jerking William to a stop. She crossed her arms and stomped her foot. “William Whitehall, I’m not taking one more step until you tell me what’s going on!”
The Defender of Rebel Falls: A Medieval Science Fiction Adventure (The William Whitehall Adventures Book 1) Page 35
