by J. W. Webb
Barakani ordered the archers in. One by one the crimson elite fell beneath those shafts. In seconds no one was left standing. The sultan’s finest were no more. Amidst the corpses the pathetic figure of Samadin the Marvellous squatted hunched and shaking, his fat face soaked with sweat and his robes soiled and stinking from his recently voided bowels.
Barakani dismounted from his horse. He strode forward and reaching down, yanked the sultan to his feet. Barakani rested his scimitar against Samadin’s exposed throat. The sultan wept for mercy, his podgy hands beating feebly at Barakani’s chest. He soiled his robes again and was close to fainting.
Barakani’s face was cruel with contempt. There would be no mercy today. He rammed the scimitar’s jewelled hilt into the sultan’s jaw, knocking him from his feet. Barakani then signalled to his seven sons. He bade them strip the sultan’s flaccid body and stake him out naked beneath the blazing sun.
“Here let him wither at the desert’s whim,” said Barakani to all that stood there watching. “Let the prowling creatures gnaw at his weak flesh and the scavenging birds peck out his craven eyes.
“Let the desert heat burn down, hour upon hour, until madness claims him and his mind crumbles, even as his body rots and his soul flees screaming to Yffarn. Then let his bones bleach white and fade to dust beneath the golden sun.”
“It is over.” Barakani stood over the sultan’s prostrate body. He opened his drawstring and let his steaming piss spill onto the sobbing wreck below. And so perished Samadin the Marvellous. Sacrificed to the desert he so despised. A most unhappy conclusion to the long dynasty of the crimson sultans. The pride of Sedinadola who had ruled in totality for so many years. There were none present felt any sorrow at his pitiful demise.
Chapter 42
The West Wall
Many leagues to the north another battle had only just begun. The bitter wind gathered pace as the defenders of Calprissa’s east walls held back the first wave of attack. Savrino’s archers brought down the ladder carriers with skilled shooting, and their captain ordered controlled volleys to be fired into the vast horde below. But they kept coming and the ladders were raised again until the wall was finally breached in several places.
It was then that the real fighting began in earnest. Throughout the city, bells tolled and priests knelt in supplication before the gods. Townsmen raced to aid the soldiers manning the walls. Together they heroically rebuffed the continuing assault.
Young boys stood beside greybeards each doing their part. Those not fighting ran back and forth carrying messages and taking orders from Lord Tolruan or Barin of Valkador.
Most of the women and children huddled beneath the sanctuary of the old citadel while their loved ones fought and died to defend them. There were some women on the walls, these having chosen to fight beside their men. Half a mile away, the halls of the healers were already filled with the groans of the wounded and the dying.
Barin watched from the balcony above the west gate. He stood with Shallan as she fired arrow after arrow at the approaching pirates below. But they kept coming. Then, with a theatrical show of bravado, Rael Hakkenon ascended the wall using a ladder of knives. He dodged arrow and missile. Within moments he’d cut down three men who had rushed to stop him.
Rael grinned as he vaulted the parapet, rapier and dagger in hand. A score of pirates were close behind, dropping lithely onto the wall.
“They’re here. Stay put, girl. I’ll go have a word. Come on, lads!”
Barin left the balcony and made for the spot on the wall where fighting had broken out. With him came Fassof, Cogga and Taic, Sveyn stayed with Shallan at Barin’s bidding.
“Look after her—she’s like a daughter to me.”
“I will,” Sveyn replied.
Rael’s killers were already cleaving a path through the defenders. Barin loped along the battlements in monstrous strides. Shallan refusing to be left behind, followed Barin with bow in hand. Sveyn made to stop her but she slid past his guard. Sveyn rolled his eyes and followed close behind. This girl was trouble, he decided.
The Assassin, seeing Barin looming close, grinned and trotted to meet the giant Northman. Wyrmfang met the Assassin’s blade with a clash of steel. Rael’s skill deflected the huge weight of the axe, but even he was caught off guard by Barin’s ferocity. The axe was a windmill of blazing steel, the rapier a needle dancing in between.
Rael’s rapier darted toward Barin’s midriff but instead collided with Wyrmfang in another a blaze of sparks. The force of that contact nearly broke Rael’s arm as he was slammed back against the wall. Wincing in pain, Rael tossed the dagger with his good arm. Barin knocked it aside with a nudge from his axe.
“Time’s up, Assassin.”
Barin closed for the kill. The axe swung down. Rael rolled clear from Wyrmfang’s path. Shutting out the pain in his arm, Rael launched his body like a missile into Barin’s stomach and rammed his elbow up under the Northman’s chin. Barin was caught off guard but still managed to bring his fist down sledgehammer hard on the Assassin’s head.
Rael saw stars. Again he twisted free before Barin could finish him and swat him with the axe.
“You overestimate your chances, lardy boy.” Rael spat in Barin’s eye and followed on with a blazing series of lunges and stabs with the rapier. Barin blocked with Wyrmfang, but had to give ground lest the Assassin get inside his swing.
Meanwhile Fassof and Cogga were exchanging blows with Rael’s men. Taic was presently rolling and biting with one on the floor. Shallan, ignored except by Sveyn (stressing beside her), was trying to get a clear shot at the Assassin with her bow, but Rael was far too quick.
She waited, saw a chance: pulled back the string but was pushed forward by someone from behind and her blow went wide.
A hairy arm grabbed her sleeve. Shallan’s bow was knocked from her grasp and a fist cuffed her right ear. She saw Sveyn kneel with a knife in his guts. He winked at her and crumpled.
Sorry.
Shallan spat like a lynx but was held fast by those iron strong arms. Fassof, seeing her plight, rushed to aid her but was struck to the ground by a sword blow from a bearded pirate. Lord Tolruan ran the pirate through with a clean thrust of his blade and Fassof woodenly regained his feet. Fortunately the weapon had been blunt and his shoulder, though cut, wasn’t sliced bad.
The defenders were surrounded as more pirates were spilling over the wall and rushing to assist their comrades. Cutlasses and spikes ready, they leapt down onto the battlements amid curses and jeers. Soon the west wall was overrun.
Lord Tolruan was surrounded but his armour protected him and his skill with the sword kept them at bay for a time. Yards away Barin and Rael Hakkenon circled each other like alley cats in moonlight. Sveyn pulled the knife out of his ribs and stumbled to his feet.
Shallan screamed in rage and frustration. She stamped down hard on her assailant’s foot and then rammed her elbow back into his startled face, catching his nose square on. Bones crunched. The pirate let her go. Shallan dived between his legs. She’d spotted an abandoned knife and grabbed it. The pirate tore after her. He yanked her hair from behind, pulling her back savagely so that he could slit her exposed throat.
Shallan was too quick for him. She spun on her heels with knife held ready. With a yell she rammed the blade into his belly. He crumpled sobbing, but soon others surrounded her, their sweat-strewn faces masks of lusty leers and scorn. They mocked her as she lashed out at them with the knife.
Shallan circled with knife held high. She knew she stood no chance. A kick sent her sprawling and then another in her stomach caused her to double up in pain. An ugly face loomed above Shallan. She felt rough hands grab her arms whilst twisting the dagger painfully from her grasp.
Two Crenise held her down while the grinning ugly fiddled with his trouser buttons. His laughter was cut short when a thin line of steel sliced through his neck.
The head rolled. Shallan blinked. The slender steel struck again. Another head went sail
ing past. She heard the brief clash of steel on steel and glimpsed flitting movement to her right. Another Crenise screamed, witnessing his arm leaving his shoulder. A dark wild-eyed scarecrow figure leapt between the wounded man and the three Crenise still surrounding Shallan. Within seconds Zukei killed them all.
The blood-soaked girl glared down at Shallan, then reached out with a dark hand and yanked Shallan to her feet as though she were a rag doll.
“The duke sleeps,” Zukei told her. “The physician is with him, so I thought I’d be needed here.” Shallan gaped at Zukei. The dark girl wore a red band of cloth around her head, in her left hand she clutched a thin curved sword, a type of weapon Shallan had never seen before. Her right clutched a small throwing axe, and around her skimpy shift she’d thrown a rusty hauberk of big-ringed steel.
“I stole them from the armoury,” Zukei grinned. “Good weapons. This is a Karyia, a sword from distant Shen, and the axe is the sort the Ptarnian raiders use to throw at each other. Beautifully balanced. I’ve been after one of these for years.”
Whilst Zukei was aiding Shallan, Rael Hakkenon stalked Barin like a prowling panther. Twice now he’d got beneath the giant’s guard, stung him in the shoulder and right upper arm with his blade and then leaped clear of the arcing axe.
Barin coughed up blood from his chest. He staggered forward in pain. Eyes triumphant, Rael danced in for the kill. But Barin had only feigned weakness as his wounds weren’t grievous.
Wyrmfang descended with renewed fury. Too late the Assassin realised his mistake. He ducked clear of the double blade’s scything sweep, but Barin spun the weapon so that the flat of a blade batted into his enemy’s shoulder.
That force nearly broke Rael’s back. As it was it lifted him skyward and sent him spinning like a tossed coin back over the battlements. The Assassin’s fall was eventually broken by a prickly rose bush which shredded his body like a cheese grater as Rael crashed into it. The rambler held him trapped like a caged baboon with legs dangling frantically twenty feet above the ground.
Rael lost consciousness at that point.
Barin turned: saw Zukei stab a pirate in the eye with her strange-looking sword. Shallan was with her and both girls were surrounded by corpses. Zukei’s face was covered in blood and Shallan’s eyes were wild and triumphant. Barin scratched an ear. He counted the corpses sprawled and oozing around the girls. Twelve. And not a mark on Zukei or Shallan. Impressive stuff.
“You alright, girl?” Barin asked Shallan whilst gaping at the blood-soaked Zukei. “Who did for this lot?”
“I did,” Zukei said. “Though the faerie girl was doing alright for a novice.”
“She killed them all,” Shallan told Barin, who shook his head.
“Where is Sveyn?” Barin asked them.
“Behind you.” Sveyn stood leaning on the battlement and clutching his chest.
“Wake up, you’re meant to be looking after this girl!” Barin growled at him and Sveyn decided he’d had enough for one day. “You should nominate her,” he pointed at Zukei. “That wee lassie could kick all our arses. I’ve never seen such fucking speed and cunning with a blade.” Zukei flashed Sveyn a fierce grin.
A shout to their left announced Lord Tolruan was hard pressed. Barin and Fassof rushed to his aid, followed by Shallan, Zukei and Cogga, and a hobbling Taic (having just gutted his wrestling companion.) Last up Sveyn joined them, panting and clutching his stomach.
They were too late. Lord Tolruan was surrounded. Shallan saw the long spike of the nearest pirate find a gap in Tolruan’s armour just below his breastplate.
The point went in deep and with a strangled gasp Lord Tolruan collapsed to his knees, gripping the spike with his gore-spattered gauntlets. Barin and Cogga fell upon the pirates, killing four between them. Zukei took three more, whilst Taic and Fassof commenced engaging the rest.
But now other Crenise came forward, forcing a wedge between the embattled Northmen. Taic and Fassof were forced aside, whilst Barin and Cogga were soon surrounded by jabbing probing blades. Zukei’s lean blade sliced through a pirate’s collar bone down to his crutch. She skewered another and then hurled her axe, felling a third who was on the point of stabbing Taic in the rear. But then the girl was surrounded by a forest of Crenise steel.
A pirate stepped over the dying lord of Calprissa. He raised his cutlass for the kill. Shallan hissed and waded in like a wildcat. The pirate turned and leered at the girl. She lunged out at him with her knife but he just laughed at her.
He signalled to another. A man seized her from behind and laughing the two dragged her swearing and biting to the floor.
Shallan spat in the pirate’s pocked face as he straddled her hips and tore at her clothing. Zukei couldn’t help her this time.
Down to me.
The Crenise held her pinned whilst his friend started clawing at her thighs with sweaty hands. Others joined in, grinning at this new sport. Shallan was pinned helpless. Six strong they leered down at her, their breath rancid and stale.
Shallan knotted her legs, trapping the second man’s hand while his fellow tugged at her garments. Looking up in despair Shallan saw a shadow loom above her attackers.
Sunlight glanced off steel. Suddenly she was showered in blood as Sveyn’s axe sent the first pirate’s grinning head flying across the wall. The other man gaped until a second blow split his skull open like an overripe fruit.
Sveyn had got over his moping and forgot the shallow wound across his guts. The thing about Sveyn was he took a long time to get roused. But when he did get roused, shit happened.
Another head went sailing past her. Barin had arrived with Cogga tailing him. Steel rang and bones crunched. Zukei stepped out from a fresh pile of corpses surrounding her. Shallan blinked in astonishment, all the leering faces were gone.
The remaining Crenise hung back, wary of the Northmen’s ferocity. Sveyn was making a weird howling noise and frothing at the mouth, Barin was glaring at them like a spring hungry bear, and as for the wild-eyed spitting she-lynx in the shabby chain mail suit—enough said. The Crenise looked about for their lord and, not seeing him, decided it a good time to vacate the wall and head back down to their ships.
Barin and co. stormed after them, taking two more before the others leapt clear. He met up with defenders further along the wall. It seemed all the Crenise had fled, though at least a third of their number lay gored open on the parapet.
With the west wall secured, Barin lumbered painfully back over to where Shallan sat cross-legged and staring. He leaned down and gently helped her to her feet. His tired eyes full of concern.
“Are you alright, girl?”
Shallan nodded and readjusted her garments. He shift was torn in places but on the whole she’d got off lightly. Barin wiped sweat from his brow. He was getting too old for all this.
“Go get something to drink then check on your father, Shallan,” Barin said. “I must go see how the east wall is holding up.”
“I will come with you,” Zukei told him.
“I’d sooner you stayed with Lady Shallan,” Barin replied.
“She can look after herself.” Zukei awarded Shallan a tight grin and Shallan felt a warm flush at the compliment paid her. “I need to be where the fighting is thickest,” Zukei said. “I’m a professional killer—in case you hadn’t noticed.”
A shrill shout brought bad news quicker than Barin expected. Glancing down from the battlements, Barin and the two girls saw a young messenger boy racing towards them. “The city is breached, my lord!” the boy yelled up at them in panicky tones. “Savrino is slain and most the guard also. All is lost!”
Barin awarded Shallan a bleak look before jumping down to speak to the messenger. The lad was almost in tears. Barin cuffed his left ear, knocking him sideways.
“All is not lost until I bloody well say so, boyo. On your feet!” Barin hoisted the youth up by his bloodstained collar. “Off to the east wall we jolly well go.” In a kinder voice he added, “Don’t fret, lad, t
he city will hold because I’m damned if I’ll let it fall. What’s your name?”
“Pont.”
“Well, master Pont, come along. And you lot—we’ve still work to do.” Barin disappeared followed by his men and the prowling Zukei. Sveyn (who had just calmed down again) looked at Shallan who waved him away.
“You’re needed elsewhere,” she told him. Sveyn nodded forlornly and left her alone. And suddenly everything seemed very quiet on the west wall, though in the distance the sound of fighting could be heard.
Shallan stared in horror at the mess of bodies strewn along the parapet. Most were Crenise though there were many city guard too, near the place where Tolruan fell. She was alone again; except for the haphazard litter of corpses, the battlements were deserted. All those who could still fight had fled to the east wall where the real battle was gathering pace.
The Crenise, lacking motivation without their leader, had slunk back to their ships to lick their wounds. Shallan suspected they would regroup for another attack once Rael caught up with them.
But where was he? Shallan no longer cared. Dead, hopefully, though she doubted they’d be that lucky. Shallan gulped in deep breaths and gagged at the stench of the dead sprawled everywhere. Twice she’d nearly been raped. If it wasn’t for Zukei and Sveyn? Shallan shuddered. The assaults on her body had left her shaken and upset.
What if Sveyn and Zukei hadn’t arrived and those pigs had had their way? Shallan felt ill. The stink of the fly-clustered bodies close by, the realisation that she needed others to fight for her despite trying so hard. Shallan was no Zukei. And she was no Ariane either. She was just a former rich girl doing her best in a cruel and nasty world. She felt older—stained. No longer a girl. Her earlier confidence whilst shooting the bow was shattered.
Shallan wished so much that Corin were here. That this horrible death all around her would vanish, and in its place she’d see her one-night lover’s eyes smiling back at her as they walked, arms linked through Silon’s vineyard.
