The Squire

by James Wisher

  Col repeated the spin and shoot move twice more before he spotted the light of the refugees’ fire glowing above the fort wall. Please let whoever’s minding the gate be awake and ready. They wouldn’t have much time to close it behind him.

  He burst through the saplings at the edge of the forest and raced for the open gate. He heard the beastmen a few steps behind him. It would be close. He put on a final burst of speed and shot through the gate. Four men shoved it closed and a fifth slammed a bar down to secure it.

  Col fell to his knees and gasped for breath. That had been far too close. Frustrated howls from outside the walls drew people from the keep, crossbows at the ready. Rain emerged from the door. Col smiled as she wrestled with her crossbow.

  She spotted him and rushed over. “Are you hurt?”

  Col shook his head. “Out of breath. That was a hell of a run. Get everyone up on the wall. I doubt they’ll try anything in the dark, but we need to be ready.”

  She left, he assumed to find Ged. Col grunted and climbed to his feet. He marched to the stairs and tried to project confidence like he remembered Sir Geris doing. He didn’t know if the refugees walking up the steps beside him were inspired, but he felt better for making the effort.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What happens now?” Ged asked. He and Col stood on the walkway and looked down at the beastmen surrounding the fort. The sun had risen an hour ago and they finally got a good view of the enemy. His guess from the night before had been close; he counted a little over two hundred of them.

  A crossbow thunked followed by a pained howl of an incautious beastman. Col grinned. They’d gotten lucky so far that the dumb brutes hadn’t charged the gate in mass. That wouldn’t last, for now they seemed content to stay just out of crossbow range. Another thunk and howl, for the most part anyway.

  “Now we wait, shoot them when they get close, and hope they don’t realize how little food we have.” Ged looked pained when Col mentioned the food situation. “Relax, beastmen aren’t known for their patience. If they don’t attack before noon I’ll be stunned.”

  He slumped down against the wall and closed his eyes. Col hadn’t gotten more than a few hours’ sleep the last two days. If he could rest a few hours before the attack it would do him good. He closed his eyes.

  “Here they come!”

  His eyes popped open. Light burn all beastmen!

  He leapt to his feet, adrenaline burning away his exhaustion. The beastmen charged in a great mass of churning legs and clawing hands. If someone ever figured out how to get them to fight in a coherent group the Lake Kingdoms would find themselves in even greater danger.

  The brutes charged toward the gate, and crossbows thunked as fast as the refugees could work their windlasses. What they lacked in order they made up for with six of the biggest boarmen Col had ever seen, wielding axes he doubted he could even lift.

  They’d make quick work of the gate with those things.

  Col ran toward the area above the gate. “Focus on the lead boarmen!” They made big enough targets he suspected even his inexperienced troops could hit them.

  He was right. Quarrels jutted from the huge boarmen’s shoulders and legs, but it didn’t stop them. They’d worked themselves into such a rage they would notice nothing short of a killing shot. Well, he’d have to do something about that.

  Like a machine his right hand grabbed an arrow, he nocked, and loosed.

  He buried three arrows in the throat and chest of the lead boarman before he went down. The monsters behind it stumbled then kept coming.

  He kept shooting. What else could he do?

  It was like shooting into the ocean to stop the tide. When he ran out of arrows four of the big boarmen lay fallen on the ground.

  “Arrows!”

  A few seconds later one of the two older kids appeared beside him with a fresh bundle. For a moment the ridiculous memory of the page bringing him arrows during the tournament what seemed a lifetime ago popped into his head. Col shook it off, took the arrows, and stuck them in his quiver.

  He poked his head up and dropped back down in time to avoid a hurled javelin. Someone screamed and fell off the wall, pierced through the gut with another spear. The monsters had closed the distance; now the defenders would pay the price for a lack of caution.

  A vibration ran through the wall when one of the massive axes hit the gate. Javelins or not he needed to deal with the two surviving boarmen before they cut the gate apart.

  Col eased his way toward the area directly above the gate, took a breath, and stood up.

  He leaned over the wall and fired an arrow straight down into the top of one of the boarmen’s skulls. He ducked back down ahead of three javelins that stuck in the wall below him. A couple trembling women crouched behind the wall, too terrified to fire their weapons. They slid out of his way and he scrambled past.

  When he’d moved as far as possible without losing his angle of attack Col stood up and shot the second boarman. Before he could duck back down a javelin grazed his arm.

  “Damn it.” He grabbed the wound but found it wasn’t deep.

  “They’re falling back!” someone down the wall shouted.

  “Everybody shoot!” Col stood up and loosed arrows into the retreating beastmen as fast as he could draw his bow. All around him crossbows thunked. The fleeing beastmen left dozens of dead and dying behind.

  When they moved out of range everything fell silent save for the screaming of the injured refugee in the courtyard. Col hurried down the steps to check how bad the wound was. When he reached her he looked away. The javelin pierced her all the way through. He doubted she’d live an hour.

  Col held her hand and she looked at him with such pain in her eyes he wanted to turn away again. He didn’t though. He held her gaze until, a few moments later, she stopped breathing. He sighed. They’d lost one person to the beastmen’s dozens so he should be pleased with the outcome of the first battle, but he wasn’t. Col closed the woman’s eyes and stood up. He needed to check the damage to the gate.

  He shook his head when he arrived. The beastmen had damaged the gate, but not as badly as he feared. They’d knocked a few fist-sized holes it, but otherwise no major damage. In fact, they may have done the defenders a favor. He’d station some men with spears by the gate to stab any of the monsters that got too close.

  “What do you think they’ll try next?” Ged had come down to join him.

  “They’ll probably build a ram and try the gate again. They don’t have a lot of options. I doubt they have a siege engineer or the tools to build anything complicated. Whatever they try I suspect we have a few hours. Set a few lookouts and have everyone else rest.”

  Ged looked at him, shook his head and smiled. “Sure. Best get that arm bandaged.”

  Col had forgotten his wound and now that Ged drew his attention to it found it hurt. He’d set Rain to preparing bandages and getting the healing supplies ready so she’d feel useful and stay safe at the same time. He headed for the keep. If the world held any justice he could at least get his arm bandaged and sleep an hour before anything tried to kill him.

  * * *

  Rain rolled up yet another length of cloth and set it on the pile. She had enough bandages piled up to mummify half the refugees. Col said it was important for her to look after the wounded and get ready in case there were more. She figured he wanted her out of the way somewhere safe. Rain appreciated his concern and that keeping her safe was his job, but she felt useless.

  Colt groaned, and she went over to him. They’d laid him on one of the bunks in the barracks. He’d gotten weaker over the last several days and Rain feared he wouldn’t be making the trip out with them. Under the thin blanket she’d covered him with his bandages had soaked through and the wound stank. She knew little about healing, but it didn’t take an expert to know that was a bad sign.

  Shouts and the muffled thunk of crossbows reached her. The beastmen had started their attack. She tensed. Would they even hold
through one attack? Col seemed confident, but she suspected he’d exaggerated their chances for her sake. Colt’s hand brushed hers and she looked down at him. Perhaps the sounds of the battle woke him.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said. “My brother is fighting. He’s strong.”

  She smiled at his attempt to cheer her up and squeezed his hand. “I’m sure it will.”

  Colt lapsed back into unconsciousness again. Outside, the sounds of battle vanished, so she assumed they’d survived the first attack. Footsteps outside the barracks door alerted her a moment before it opened. Two men carried a woman in and laid her on the floor. Rain hurried over to tell them to put her on a bunk. She stopped short. The woman was dead.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Col help himself to a roll of bandages and slip out the door. She hurried after him. If he’d gotten hurt he might need help. Rain stepped out into the hall and saw the door to the officer’s quarters hung part way open.

  She crossed the hall in time to see his strip off his leather jerkin. The under tunic sported a nasty blood stain on the arm. She took a step toward him then stopped when he pulled the tunic over his head. Her cheeks warmed when she saw the muscles of his chest. Striations on his side rippled as he tried to wrap the bandage around his wound with one hand. Callion didn’t have muscles like that.

  “Are you going to stand there watching or give me a hand?”

  She blinked and came out of her stupor. Col sat on the edge of the bed staring at her. Blood rushed to her head and she knew she must be blushing furiously.

  She crossed the room and he handed her the bandage. Trying with little success to focus on the gash in his arm rather than well defined muscles of his chest, she wrapped the bandage tight and tied it off. “That should do. What happened?”

  Col rotated his arm and nodded. “A wolfman used me for target practice. I got lucky and he missed, more or less.”

  She eyed his arm and frowned. “You don’t look lucky to me.”

  Col flopped back on the bed and sighed. He looked so tired. “Did you see the woman the others brought in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what unlucky looks like. I only got a scratch.”

  Rain lay down facing him. She reached out to put a hand on his chest then caught herself. What was she thinking? “It’s not your fault. You’ve done everything possible to help these people.”

  Col turned his head to look at her. He had dark smudges under his bloodshot eyes. “I used them to disguise our course.” He spoke just loud enough for her to hear both the words and the pain in his voice.

  “You did what you needed to. If not for you they would have blundered into the beastmen and gotten wiped out days ago. You’ve given them a chance. More of a chance than they would have had.”

  She looked away for a moment and when she turned back he’d closed his eyes. She smiled, he’d fallen sound asleep. Rain looked at him for a minute and wondered when she started to care what became of him. He was a nobody, no rank, no title, nothing, just a commoner playing the part of a knight. He’d been mean to her when they started out, hated her for what she represented.

  But he’d encouraged her too, tried to make her understand what it meant to be nobody. Col started the process, but these people, the refugees, moved her forward. She understood now, they were just people, no better or worse than her or any other noble. She’d treasure that lesson for however long she lived, even if she died here.

  * * *

  Col’s eyes popped open. How long had he slept and what was the weight on his arm? He turned his head and found Rain’s hair a few inches from his face. She’d fallen asleep. Guess he wasn’t the only tired one.

  In that moment he wanted nothing more than to lay there and enjoy the pleasant scent of Rain’s hair and the heat of her body beside his. He couldn’t of course, a bloody army of beastmen outside the walls made even his little nap feel self-indulgent.

  He tried to ease his arm out from under her. She didn’t need to get up. Rain groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

  Col smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She rolled away from him and he suppressed a sigh. “I didn’t intend to fall asleep. How’s your arm?”

  He sat up and flexed the muscle. Col tried his best not to enjoy Rain staring at him. “It’s fine, just a little stiff. Good job on the bandage. We’ll make a healer out of you yet.”

  Col slipped his under tunic over his head then pulled on the leather jerkin. Time to return to the war. He crossed over to the barracks and found Hal sitting beside his brother. A couple steps closer and he noticed the blanket covered Colt’s face. His jaw clenched. Colt had lasted longer than he expected given the severity of his wound.

  The brother looked up at him. It took a second for Col to realize his gaze went past him. Col glanced over his shoulder and found Rain staring at Colt’s covered body. She staggered past him like a zombie. He didn’t know what to say to her.

  Hal got up and met her halfway. “I wanted to thank you for staying with him. It meant a lot to my brother to have you there.” He walked past her, pausing for a moment to squeeze her shoulder. He nodded to Col as he passed and left them alone in the barracks.

  Rain sat on the edge of Colt’s bed. “I only left for a few minutes.” She looked up at Col with tear-filled eyes.

  Col sat beside her, put an arm around her shoulders, and held her while she cried. He could have said it was a miracle Colt lived as long as he did and she probably had a lot to do with that. He could have said a lot of things, but all of it was bullshit. The only true thing he could do was hold her until the tears stopped.

  She fell silent at last and rested her head on his shoulder. “I should have been with him,” she whispered in his ear.

  “His brother was with him. You kept him company when he was aware enough to appreciate it. Hang on to that. Whatever happens the next few days or weeks or years, never forget the kindness you did for a dying man with nothing to offer you but gratitude.”

  “I’m so tired.”

  “I know.” Col scooped her up, carried her over to one of the far bunks and laid her down. “Rest, Princess. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  Her eyes closed and he doubted she heard a word he said. Col smiled and brushed the hair away from her face. He’d get her out of this alive if he had to kill every beastman between here and Celestia.

  A shout went up from one of the lookouts. Col ran for the wall. It was time for round two.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You were right, they made a battering ram.” Col stood beside Ged on the wall and watched ten boarmen lugging a fresh-cut tree trunk out of the woods. They’d stripped the branches and hacked a rough point at one end. Crude as it looked, with a ton of muscle behind it the ram would wreak hell on their gate.

  “We’ll just have to keep them from reaching it.”

  “What?” Ged looked at him and Col realized he’d spoken out loud.

  “We’ll have to try and keep them from reaching the gate.”

  “Can’t argue with that plan.” Ged hefted his crossbow. “You sure know a lot about beastmen.”

  “I’ve fought the ugly brutes often enough.” Ged stared at him and it stuck Col then how odd that must sound coming from a seventeen-year-old kid. Come to think of it… “What day is it?”

  Ged blinked at the surprise question. “June ninth I believe.”

  Col grinned. “Yesterday was my birthday. Here they come.”

  The beastmen charged into a withering hail of missile fire. The bulk of the monsters gathered around the ram bearers, forming a living shield wall.

  Dozens fell as they got closer, but the ram never slowed. Ten paces away Col got a clear shot at one of the boarmen.

  He put an arrow in its throat.

  The monster fell, but a moment later a wolfman stepped in to take its place. The wall shuddered when the ram struck. A nasty crunch came from the gate, but it held.

  The mo
b of beastmen backed up for another run, still not balked by their losses. Col estimated they’d killed half the force that came against them. Still there were over a hundred beastmen out there, more than enough to finish the refugees if they made it inside.

  The ram raced forward again, slamming against the weakened gate.

  Boards shattered and splinters flew, but it still held. Not for long though, one more hit and the beastmen would stream inside.

  “Everyone off the wall and into the keep!”

  Ged stopped beside him. “We can’t keep them out?”

  “If I had a dozen men-at-arms maybe we could hold them at the gate, but a dozen farmers wouldn’t last long. If they get behind us we’ll be cut off. I’ll take ten men to hold the keep door, you get the archers up to the second floor so they can shoot down into the beastmen. Got it?”

  Ged goggled at him. Col grabbed the front of his tunic and shook him. “Got it?”

  Ged nodded. “Got it.”

  They ran for the keep. Ged shouted orders and ten of the men that served as watchmen for the refugees separated themselves from the group.

  Everyone ran inside. Ged led the archers upstairs while Col and his chosen men went to the armory. They each took a spear and shield then headed back to the door.

  The doorway only measured a pace and a half across. Col stood in the center of the open doorway, a farmer on either side of him. “Lock your shields with mine. Remember our job is to keep them from getting in; defense first. Let the archers focus on killing them.”

  “Shouldn’t we close the door?” one of them asked.

  “I doubt it would survive one hit from that ram. After they smashed it we’d have to fight amongst the rubble which would ruin our footing. Don’t worry; they’ll only be able to come at us two at a time. We’re going to form the smallest phalanx in history. Second row form up behind us. When they attack stab over our heads and into the brutes’ faces. We’ll stab up into their bellies. If they give a moment’s rest we switch out. Never forget, we hold them here or everyone dies.”