“We have the walls,” protested the desperate abbot.
“The walls are not tall enough!” Denes snarled. “I’ve told you and the district boyerman that several times! They’ll come right at them. If I was them, I’d fake at the main gate to force us to defend it and then attack the walls in at least two places. With the few men we have, the raiders will take casualties and then be over the wall, and it’ll be the end for us.”
Yozef elbowed his way near the two men in time to hear the last exchanges. They couldn’t defend the walls with the number of men available? Denes was saying the raiders would overwhelm the defenders on the wall?
Oh, shit! What am I doing here?
He’d come all this way from Earth and made a life here, and now to die during a pirate raid?!
How about a fucking break now and then!!
Yozef cast around over the heads of the gathered men, looking for a way out. They were in the courtyard between the main gate and the cathedral. The hospital building and one of the residence buildings flanked the courtyard, with the main gate and wall forming the fourth side. Then … he had an idea, and without thought, he said in normal voice, “Don’t fight them on the walls.”
No one paid any attention. He stepped closer to Denes and Sistian and yelled, “Don’t fight them on the walls!”
The two men stopped facing each other and turned to Yozef. Sistian’s expression was blank, because he didn’t understand what Yozef had said.
Denes snapped, “What did you say?”
Yozef swallowed and tucked his shaking hands under his armpits. “If you can’t hold them off at the walls and they’ll come over, let them in the courtyard.”
“Quiet, Yozef,” Sistian admonished. “Let Denes—”
“Shut up!” Denes growled at the abbot, who jerked his head back, not used to being so ordered.
Denes swiveled his head from the front gate at the courtyard to Yozef, to the courtyard. He licked his lips. “It’s risky. There isn’t much time to get ready, but it may be our only chance.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the bewildered abbot.
Denes grabbed the abbot’s arm and leaned closer to him. “If we can’t keep them outside the walls, our one chance might be to make the courtyard a trap. Turn the trap for us into a trap for them. We lure them here, so they’re clustered together while we surround them. Then we can fight them from all sides, while they can’t use all of their weapons at the same time. It’ll help balance their number advantage.”
“Let them in the gate!” Sistian shrieked. “That’s insane! How can we not hold them at the walls, then let them inside the complex?!”
“Not inside the complex, inside our trap.”
“But—”
“I’m in charge, Abbot. We have to do something, and it’s my decision.” With that, Denes quit paying attention to the abbot, who stood white-faced and confused when Denes turned again to Yozef.
“We’ll give a good account of ourselves, but they’ll still probably win. We just don’t have enough men.”
Yozef’s mind was split. One part wanted to run and not stand and give advice he had no qualifications to give, but the part controlling his babbling was ascendant. “Maybe not fighting out in the open, but there are plenty of people here who can fight behind barricades.”
Denes whirled back to the abbot. “Abbot, you and your staff get all the oldest people and children into the farthest and most secure rooms in the basements. Then everyone able enough to stand and fight in place, get to the courtyard.”
The abbot stood and stared glassy-eyed at Denes.
“NOW, ABBOT!!” Denes screamed.
Sistian blinked twice, then hitched his cassock and took off running, yelling for other brothers and sisters.
Denes shouted for the clustered men to shut up and listen. “If we try to hold the walls, they’ll break through easily. Even if every adult, man and woman, joins us on the wall, there’s too much of the wall to defend and react to their attacking at different places. Once they’re over the wall in even one place, it’ll be over. We need to get them where they’re at a disadvantage.
“Here’s what we’ll do—build a continuous barricade around the edges of the courtyard, then leave the main gate open and let them pour through. They might not be able to resist if they see we haven’t closed the gate. When they enter the courtyard, we can fire at them from behind the barricade. If they reach the barricade, they’ll have to climb over and be vulnerable.”
“What if they don’t take the bait?” asked a rough-looking man toward the rear of the group.
“Then we’re back to defending the walls as best we can, with everyone who can hold a weapon,” Denes replied grimly. “I think we’re dead in that case. We’re also dead if we try to lure them into a trap and they don’t take the bait. We’re dead if they take the bait, and we can’t hold them in the trap. The only way we’re not dead is if the trap works and we hold them, so that’s what we’ll do.”
Neither the questioner nor any of the other men were happy with Denes’s reply, but no one offered another option.
“Filtin, Seflux, Wilfwin—” Denes named seven or eight men, “split up everyone and go into the building and bring out everything that moves and might provide some protection. Build a barricade in front of all the buildings. Grab every able-bodied adult to do the same. Gather everything. Tables, chests of drawers, chairs, boxes, pews from the cathedral, beds, mattresses—anything. Carnigan, you take ten men and head for the barns. There are wagons and carts there. Bring hay bales and anything else useful. Once the wagons are unloaded, turn them on their sides as part of the barricade. And Carnigan, is the armory open?”
Carnigan nodded toward the steps of the cathedral, where lay piles of weapons. “Most of the weapons are there.”
“Send people to bring the rest out and tools from the garden sheds and barns, anything that can be used as a weapon.”
Denes stopped speaking. The men stared at him, some waiting for more instructions, some confused by the plan, and some stunned at the events.
“NOW, PEOPLE!!” Denes screamed again. “WE MIGHT ONLY HAVE FIFTEEN TO TWENTY MINUTES BEFORE THEY GET HERE!!”
The cluster of fifty men exploded, men running in all directions, leaving only Denes and Yozef. “Stay with me,” said Denes and ran to the southern wall, climbed a ladder onto the rampart, and pointed a small telescope seaward.
Yozef, his heart racing, throat constricted, hands trembling, stumbled after Denes, thinking, Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“Sons of whores, may dogs eat the balls of the Gods—” Abel Adalan ran through every curse he knew in three languages. He and his foul humor stood on a large sand dune, as the next longboat loads of men jumped into the surf and moved up the beach. His anger resulted from his view of longboats loading the last men off the ships, men who were supposed to be ashore already. It would be another ten minutes before those final boats reached the beach.
The Benhoudi were the problem. Despite their previous experience on successful raids, they simply weren’t as skillful or disciplined as his own men. He then used some of the same curses on himself for not having the Benhoudi loaded first.
Abel rejected starting inland without the full complement of men. The plan that had been drilled into the men involved all four hundred fighters. To change now would only cause more confusion. Narth’s damnation on the Benhoudi! The delay would give the islanders more time to prepare and was liable to cost them more casualties, yet from the looks of the village and the abbey, the pickings were too rich to pass up. All he could do was send the hundred men assigned to sweep the village on ahead and wait to move on the abbey when all of the Benhoudi were ashore.
From the abbey wall rampart Denes could see a body of men, he estimated eighty to a hundred, trotting toward the village. Scattered Keelanders still ran and rode for the abbey or headed inland. He hoped everyone would be out of the village when the raiders arrived, though he feared there would
be stragglers—people who, because of age, illness, sleep, stupidity, or whatever, would still be in the village. There was nothing to be done about them. He had to focus on the hundreds within the abbey complex.
“What about the people in Abersford?” Yozef asked. “Aren’t they coming for the abbey?”
“They’ll come,” Denes said in a flat tone. “Those who can. Many who don’t will flee inland. Hundreds more.”
Yozef’s shirt was soaked in cold sweat. So what the fuck am I doing here?
Panic fed his urge to run and hide, but there was a detached part of him, as if he had two minds. It was the second one that came to Denes’s support.
Yozef put a hand on Denes’s shoulder. “You said yourself what the most likely outcomes are, and this was the only one you believe has a chance.”
“What if they don’t take the bait? I’m taking a terrible risk with everyone’s lives if they don’t,” Denes choked, his commanding demeanor gone. He didn’t notice Yozef.
They both were silent for a moment, then Yozef said, “Lure them toward the gate. Give them something to chase.”
Denes whirled and leaped off the rampart six feet to the ground, then raced off, yelling at someone. Yozef scrambled down the ladder and followed.
Denes was talking to a group of men, one of whom was Cadwulf. “I need a few men to give the raiders someone to chase into the courtyard. They’ll need to fire at the raiders as they come close to the abbey, then run back, but close enough to let the raiders be right behind.”
The grim men looked at one another. What Denes asked would get some or all who volunteered killed. All of the men raised their hand, including Cadwulf.
“Not men,” blurted Yozef. “Have them chase women.”
Several of the men glared at Yozef and started to protest, but Denes spoke first. “Better! They won’t fire at women they want as captives. Better yet if they are young and healthy looking.”
“They need to be fast and not panic,” cautioned Yozef.
“Cadwulf,” ordered Denes, “be quick and try to find about ten young women willing to do this and who you think can run fast enough to get back inside the walls before the raiders catch them.”
Cadwulf nodded, gave Yozef a troubled glance, and ran off.
By now, the barricades were taking shape. People of all ages and sexes carried and dragged furniture, pews, boxes of who knew what, chests, beds, tables, chairs, and everything movable out of the buildings, stacked them on top of previous objects, or dropped them for others to position, then raced back for more. Carnigan drove a flatbed wagon up to a large gap in the developing barricades, jumped onto the bed, and threw off bales of hay that must have weighed a couple hundred pounds each. Men and women dragged the bales to plug holes in the barricade.
Once the wagon was empty, Carnigan untied the horses, letting their reins fall to the ground. Being well trained and used to working with people, the horses stood in place even with the surrounding turmoil. With some help, Carnigan pushed the wagon onto its side to take its place in the forming barrier. Carnigan then led the two horses to another gap, pulled out a large-bladed knife, and slit both their throats. The bodies collapsed where they had stood and, like the bales and wagon, became part of the barricade.
Yozef joined those pulling pews from the cathedral. They were solid wood, about twelve feet long, a perfect size for the barricade, and two people of moderate strength could carry them. Yozef and another man formed a “team” and had just finished placing their fifth pew when someone shouted, “No more pews!”
Sweat rolled off Yozef’s face from both exertion and fear. He looked around for the first time in perhaps fifteen minutes. The results were impressive. Ugly, but impressive for the available time. A three-sided barricade about forty yards along each side faced the main gate. It was a jumble of objects that would slow anyone trying to climb over. In most places, the barricade was four to five feet high, but there were still obvious low spots and even a few outright gaps.
Another yell came, this time from someone on top of the rampart by the main gate. “Here they come!”
The second of silence at the news was followed by chaotic cries and a sense of impending panic, until Denes, the more senior of the fighting men, and some of the abbey staff shouted and shoved people into position. Yozef followed Denes back to the rampart. They could see a large body of raiders coming into view a quarter mile away.
“Three groups of about a hundred men each,” Denes said. “Probably means they’re planning to hit us at three places.”
Yozef could have sworn there were three or four times that many—all armed with a hodge-podge of muskets, swords, spears, and various bladed weapons. They paused as they cleared the shrubbery along the road and began to spread out.
“There!” said Denes, nodding toward a group of villagers just emerging from the tree-lined road from the abbey to Abersford. There were about fifteen of them, mainly women, two of who carried babies. Three men held spears and helped the women run.
Yozef recognized Cadwulf. He was one of the decoy men. Several of the women looked young and were scantily dressed, as if surprised by the alarm and hadn’t had time to put on clothes. One woman was naked from the waist up. Even from his distance, he could see her breasts bouncing as she ran. The cries of fear and for help were audible. Occasionally, one of the women fell, and a man helped her to her feet to run again.
Phony falls? Yozef suspected. Nice job, Cadwulf, but don’t overdo it.
There were also several individuals or couples at various distances from the abbey. None of these were part of the lure, and some wouldn’t make it to the gate.
The leader of the Benhoudi, Omir Abulli, was ambivalent as he followed Abelan’s orders. He and his men had profited greatly from this venture. When they returned home, they’d be honored for the booty they brought back and have stories to tell for generations. It had also cost them a sixth of their men. The Benkarsta leaders always sent Benhoudi men into the exposed parts of the raids, and too often Adalan’s men had found themselves picking over what Benkarsta clansmen left after skimming off the best.
Neither of the Benkarsta leaders had shared their plans with Abulli, but he believed this might be the last raid before returning home. Subtle changes in tone and topics from the two Adalans made Abulli think this was the last chance for major spoils.
Abulli led the group of a hundred men assigned to attack the right section of the wall and was as surprised as Adalan to see the abbey gate still open and islanders running for safety. He sensed the rise in anticipation in his men as they saw a group of women, some partially clothed, trying to make it to the gate. He saw Adalan staring at the open gate and knew what was going through the Benkarsta leader’s mind—should they rush the gate? Then flags signaled to disperse for the attack as previously planned. Adalan was ignoring the gate! A rush of anger colored Abulli’s face.
Maybe the gate would get closed before they could reach it, or, if not secured, maybe they could fight their way through. It was a chance for fewer losses than fighting over the walls. The possibility of this being the last raid, the overbearing attitudes of the Benkarsta, and the chance he saw for his men to be first at the spoils on this raid coalesced into a decision. He turned to face the men in his group, raised his sword, and waited until his men in the second front wall group saw his raised sword. Then he pointed his sword at the gate and screamed, “For the Benhoudi! All Benhoudi, follow me!” And took off at a run, straight for the gate.
With little hesitation, most of his men from both groups followed him. A few who hesitated joined in once they saw most of their clansmen racing to the gate. The fewer numbers of Benkarsta men lingered seconds longer, then half of them followed.
Abel Adalan saw his carefully considered and drilled plan evaporate in seconds. He slashed his sword in front of himself, as if to decapitate the Benhoudi leader. Gods curse the Benhoudi dogs! The plan was now for shit. Or was it? He forced calm on himself. Maybe the Benhoudi co
uld get into the abbey grounds using the main gate. Even if the gate closed first, they might still have enough presence of mind to regroup and carry out the wall assaults. The third group of a hundred was deploying as planned to breach the western wall, while most of the islanders concentrated on the frontal attacks. This third group consisted of his own clansmen, who, unlike the Benhoudi, were disciplined and held to their orders. He waved to the leader of that group to continue as planned, then had subordinates gather the Benkarsta men who had been part of the frontal assault groups but had not followed the Benhoudi. Those he kept with him, as he moved closer to observe the action.
Once again on the rampart, Denes had a hand on Yozef’s forearm as they watched the raiders. His fingers dug into Yozef’s flesh. Most of the raiders in the two groups facing the abbey front wall had broken from their original trajectory and were now charging directly at the gate, Denes’s grip squeezed harder and almost brought Yozef to his knees.
“By merciful God! By whatever gods, they’re taking the bait!” Denes burst out.
He turned back toward the courtyard. Most of the people watched him with eyes fearful, resolute, or defiant. “It worked! Here they come. No one fire until I do! Do you understand? No one fire until I do! Watch the fighting men near you, if you’re uncertain. Do what they do!”
The frozen figures exploded into action, racing to positions, climbing over the barricade if they were in the courtyard, grabbing for available weapons, and older and younger islanders came out of the cathedral and other buildings from where they had been sent for safety. There was no safety. All knew it. They would live or die at the barricade.
Denes jumped off the rampart onto the courtyard ground, Yozef following, and Denes ran to the open gate, shouting for Carnigan. The large man was fast for his size and nearly trampled several people in reaching Denes.
“Keep Yozef with you. Alive, if possible.”
Well, that’s reassuring, a part of Yozef’s mind noted.
Carnigan grabbed Yozef’s arm and ran back to a large gap in the barricade facing the main gate. Yozef barely kept his feet under him to prevent Carnigan from dragging him. Carnigan took up a musket leaning against the inside of the barricade. Next to it was a second musket, the battle axe that Yozef doubted he could lift off the ground, a dented and rusty shield, and several spears of different lengths.
Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible) Page 34
