Avondale V

by Toby Neighbors

  “There!” she shouted, pointing.

  Tiberius looked up and to his surprise he saw the war ship. The ship’s sails were all extended, and the ship was racing toward them. He guessed it would take a few minutes and they could climb aboard. For the first time since he’d seen the flames behind them, he felt a glimmer of hope and was able to increase his pace.

  “Come on!” Lexi shouted. “We can make it.”

  He looked at her, and time seemed to slow down. She was so incredibly beautiful. Her face was bright with hope; the high cheekbones and small chin almost gave her face a star shape. He loved her so desperately, he thought—then he felt the limb break.

  The fall was sudden and jarring as he slammed into the wad of roots he’d been planning to jump to next. His head smashed into a gnarled root, splitting open a gash in Tiberius’ scalp. But that wound was nothing compared to the sudden, blinding pain in his leg. He knew instantly it was broken, and even though he was lying on branches and thankful he hadn’t fallen completely through the canopy, he knew he was in trouble.

  “Tiberius,” Lexi said. “Are you okay?”

  He had almost pulled her over when he fell, but she had let go of his hand and somehow managed to keep her balance. She moved quickly to his side, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him up. The scream he bellowed was so intense that bright spots drifted in his vision and tears filled his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “My leg is broken,” he croaked.

  “Oh god, Ti, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Go,” he said, waving her on.

  “You’re bleeding, and your leg is broken, I’m not leaving you.”

  “Go to the ship. Bring it here.”

  “There isn’t time,” Lexi argued.

  “I can’t walk, Lexi. I can heal my leg, at least enough to get moving, but you’ve got to get the ship over here to me.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  Dancer landed on her shoulder and chattered in a scolding manner.

  “Go!” he shouted.

  She turned and hurried away. He watched her going, bouncing easily from one spot to the next. He hated himself for lying to her, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t. He took a deep breath and tried to pull his broken leg up, but his foot was snagged in some small branches. It wasn’t stuck, but the branches pulled on his leg as he tried to move it, causing him excruciating pain.

  Blood was running down the side of his head and dripping into his right eye. He swiped it away and was relieved to see Lexi snag the dangling rope ladder and begin pulling herself up. Tiberius could hear the flames behind him, and smoke was drifting up from the fire down below him. He was having trouble breathing and started to cough, but then he felt the flames around his leg. He screamed again and jerked himself forward. His broken leg was now almost free from the canopy, and he could feel the bone stabbing into his calf muscle as he tried to move it further. The fire leapt up behind him, and the burning sensation erupted with such horrible pain that Tiberius jumped away from the flames.

  He landed hard, his body jolting and every muscle screaming for relief. His right leg was now broken and burned. He could feel the blisters all the way up to his knee, and his boot was ruined. The blood running down his leg from where his shin bone had sawed through the skin was now running across the blisters in an agonizing drip.

  He screamed and pushed himself forward, using his hands to pull his body away from the fire. Then the war ship was over him, the rope ladder swinging toward him. He didn’t think he could pull himself up, but the flames touched his leg again, searing his flesh and jolting him into action. The end of the rope ladder was almost four feet over the top of the canopy, and Tiberius realized it was actually a testament to the captain’s skill that he had trained the soldiers to fly the war ship so accurately. If the ladder had touched the canopy, it would have almost certainly snagged on one of the craggy roots or branches. With the ship moving at speed the sudden stop would have caused major damage to the sails on the rope side of the ship, perhaps even causing the vessel to crash.

  Tiberius had to heave himself upward and grab the rungs. He managed to get his arm through the space between the lowest rung and the one above. He clamped his arm down as hard as he could and screamed as the ship’s momentum jerked him upward. They weren’t high enough to keep Tiberius’s legs from dragging, even though he tried to pull his legs up toward his chest. His stomach and back simply weren’t strong enough to hold his legs up. He tried to kick himself up with his good leg, but he couldn't keep the broken and burned foot from bouncing on the rough wooden canopy. The pain was so intense he wanted to die. He would have let go, but his upper body was locked rigid with pain.

  Finally the ship rose higher, and Tiberius was lifted up and away from the branches below. He spun around, saw the black smoke and the orange flames, then the brown wood of the forest, then the fire again. They sailed for almost a minute, and Tiberius felt himself slipping. He knew he couldn’t hang on much longer. Suddenly Lexi was beside him dangling from a rope and tying another line around his body.

  “Hold on!” she shouted.

  Then, almost like a spider moving up a web, she pulled herself up to the rope ladder, above Tiberius and then onto the ship. Tiberius felt the rope around him tighten, but he was only half-conscious by that point. He felt himself being pulled upward. The agonizing pain was slowly releasing him, then rough hands grabbed his arms and heaved him onboard the ship. The pain was so terrible, he passed out.

  Chapter 30

  Rafe

  Waiting was the worst. Once the wall exploded, all Rafe could think about was keeping his men safe. Everyone seemed to be focused on the gaping hole in the city’s defenses, so the fire bombs came almost as a surprise.

  “They’re firing, sir,” said the soldier with Rafe.

  “Who?” Rafe asked, spinning around, but it was obvious what the soldier meant.

  “All of them,” the man said, his breath catching in his throat so that his reply was little more than whisper.

  The war ships launched fire bombs, but they were at the edge of their range. The soldiers on the walls saw the flaming pods hurdling toward them. Most of the fire bombs fell short or hit the wall on the side, rather than on top where it might do damage to the troops or the ballistae. The real danger was the fact that the oily smoke from the fires was thick, obstructing the view of the soldiers on the walls.

  Rafe waved his flags furiously. He knew their chance to strike back at the war ships was short. His signal was simple: red to fire, green to stand down, black to retreat. He waved the red flag so that all the soldiers on the wall could see it.

  Avondale used ballistae as a defensive weapon. They were essentially giant crossbows that were mounted on swivels attached to the city walls. The bolts the ballistae used were taller than a man and thicker than Rafe’s thigh. The tips were mounted with steel triangular heads that had serrated edges to cause maximum damage. The bolts weren’t as devastating as the fire bombs, and against a defensive position they would have been nearly useless, but their advantage was in accuracy.

  Rafe’s father had drilled the ballistae crews constantly, ensuring they could hit targets accurately from the wall to the edge of the mist. The war ships were higher than the targets the crews were used to aiming at and at the edge of the ballistae’s range, but Rafe had given the crews very specific instructions. They were to aim for the balloon sails that held the ships aloft. The sails were the most vulnerable part of the war ships and bigger than the actual vessel itself. Even a glancing blow could rip a hole in the canvas, causing the war ship to lose altitude and leave the fight.

  He watched from his high vantage point as the soldiers on the walls fired back at the war ships. Only about half were successful. A few of the bolts hit the ships, smashing into the wooden hull and sticking fast but causing little real damage. Six of the bolts hit the balloon sails. The ballistae bolts shot clean through t
he canvas sails, leaving gaping holes that allowed the precious gas to escape. Rafe felt a sense of exaltation as the ships began to sink down toward the mists that covered the blighted lands. They weren’t falling, and Rafe guessed that the crews would be able to land the ships safely enough on the sides of the mountain and rejoin the fighting on foot, but it gave him pleasure to see them knocked out of the fight.

  More firebombs came, and this time several hit the top of the wall, splashing their fiery contents all along the wide walkway. Only a few soldiers were injured, but the greater danger was the smoke. The thick oil would burn for a long time, belching black smoke that would soon hide the war ships, allowing them to lob more projectiles into the city without a clear way for Rafe’s men to target them.

  “They’re gaining altitude,” said the soldier with Rafe. “Using their hulls to protect their sails.”

  “The higher they are, the longer we’ll be able to target them,” Rafe replied.

  More bolts shot out. This time eight sails were hit, but there were still almost a hundred war ships. The vessels on the far side of Avondale were raining down fire bombs uncontested. Some of the fire was spilling over into the city, which was nearly in a panic already. Even high up on the watchtower, Rafe could hear the screams and shouting.

  Rafe waited as long as he could. One of the war ships crashed hard against the mountain, right at the mist line, the hull splintering at the bow, but Rafe still saw soldiers crawling out of the wreckage. His troops were doing damage to the fleet, but not the enemy army.

  He raised the black flag and began waving it, calling his men down off the walls. A pall of smoke was drifting over the city. Cisterns were being emptied to contain the fires inside the city walls. There was very little on the walls to burn, except for the oily residue spilled by the fire bombs. Rafe watched his men retreat and then tried to gauge what his enemy would do. They could destroy the city, forcing the citizens of Avondale out of the protective walls or down toward the forest that surrounded the lake at the center of the majestic city.

  But Rafe was betting that the king would send his troops in on foot. They needed Tiberius and the magic gem he’d found. Finding them would be much easier if the city was still intact, even if they had to slaughter their way into every home and tear the earl’s palace apart brick by brick. So Rafe waited, and he watched. Eventually the smoke grew so thick they were forced to descend from the tower and make their way through the war band’s training yard before finally coming back to the palace. Captain Rowan was waiting for Rafe just inside the palace’s front entrance, which was crowded with armed soldiers.

  “I have my men stationed around the palace, Commander,” Rowan said.

  “Casualties?” Rafe asked.

  “Two dozen, seriously wounded. That many more have burns but can fight.”

  “Keep your troops in reserve here,” Rafe said. “When Gerick’s forces fall back, you cover them. We have to keep the king’s soldiers busy for as long as we can.”

  “Aye, commander,” Rowan said with a nod.

  “And make sure everyone has something to eat. This may be the last lull we get before the fighting grows fierce.”

  “We’ll be ready, you can count on that.”

  Rafe considered the captain’s words. They were ready. The earl’s war band had trained for just such an event. Decades of careful training had been practiced by able-bodied men for just this type of attack. Now, all they needed to do was survive long enough for Tiberius to arrive and end this war once and for all.

  “My lord,” Rafe said as he strode into the earl’s audience chamber. “We’ve pulled back from the city walls.”

  “What is Leonosis doing?” the earl asked.

  “I cannot say, not with the smoke covering the city. He could be doing anything.”

  “But he’ll be gathering his forces to invade the city?”

  “I believe he will, yes,” Rafe said. “But he can’t land his troops on the walls, and it would be too risky to try and land somewhere in the city. His men will be incredibly vulnerable climbing out of the war ships.”

  “So we have a little time?” the earl asked.

  “A few hours,” Rafe replied. “It will take that long to gather his forces.”

  They could still hear the fire bombs smashing into the massive walls. Each impact sounded like a wooden barrel falling from a wagon and bursting open. The flames roared just after impact, but as long as the ships were bombarding the walls, they couldn’t disembark their troops.

  “So we wait,” the earl said, “and hope Tiberius arrives soon.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “What is happening in the city?”

  “Panic, as you might expect. Some of the buildings have taken fire.”

  “I wish we could help them somehow.”

  “We gave them a chance to leave safely,” Rafe reminded the earl. “It was their decision to stay.”

  “But they had no idea the king’s fleet would attack the city.”

  “They would have to be blind and deaf not to suspect it was a possibility. The war band will do their best to protect the citizens, but our priority is defending the palace and keeping you safe.”

  “My own son,” the earl said after a slight pause. “I simply cannot believe my own son would attack Avondale.”

  “I don’t think the man wearing the crown is your son,” Rafe said.

  “He seemed rather different, didn’t he?” the earl asked.

  “For certain, my lord.”

  “And he looked dreadful. Whatever he’s into isn’t healthy.”

  “I’m moving up to the roof where I can coordinate our troops,” Rafe said.

  “I’ll be along once the fighting commences. Until then, I’ll worry less in here.”

  Rafe didn’t see how that was possible. The audience chamber was filled with the city ministers and their families, nobles, dignitaries from other cities, and servants trying to see that everyone was well cared for. It was loud and tense in the long, rectangular room.

  Rafe bowed, then hurried up to the rooftop. Several of his officers were already there, trying to see through the cloud of smoke that hung over the city. Rafe found a place to sit and rest. He knew that he needed to conserve his strength for as long as possible. Bread, cheese, and water were being brought up to the roof by the palace servants. Rafe took some food and waited for the explosions to stop. He knew that when the enemy grew quiet he would need to worry; until then, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  Chapter 31

  Lexi

  The sailors set Ti’s body on the deck of the ship. He looked horrid, and she knew she didn’t have much time to help him. Robere was fretting beside her, wringing his hands with worry.

  “Help me,” Lexi said, drawing her Wangorian dagger and sliding it quickly up Ti’s charred pant leg. “We need to cut away his clothes and somehow get that boot off, hopefully before he wakes up.”

  The captain was bellowing orders, and the smoke was rising up like a vengeful army behind them. They were safe now, from the fire at least, and away from the dreadful forest. Lexi wanted to lie down and close her eyes, letting the warm sunlight lull her to sleep, but she also wanted food and water. She was famished; her mouth was so dry it was hard to work up enough saliva to swallow. But she knew that would have to wait. They would have to wake Rafe up soon so he could heal himself, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

  She cut the pant leg all the way from the tatters around his broken shin up to his hip, then carefully peeled back the wool cloth. Some of it was stuck to the blood on his legs; in other places it was fused to his blistered skin. The smell was horrible, and Lexi could see the broken shin bone stabbing through his blackened flesh.

  The boot was burned worse than Tiberius’ flesh. The leather was scarred and deformed, the heat causing it to contract. Lexi sawed at the tough leather with her knife, but it was much more difficult to cut.

  “Can we pull it off?” Robere asked.

&
nbsp; “Not without hurting the break worse than it already is.”

  “Oh, Master Tiberius,” the servant whined. “The smell is dreadful.”

  “He’ll lose this leg if we don’t get the boot off,” Lexi said angrily. “And then we’ll probably lose him. Help me.”

  Robere held one side of the boot while Lexi pulled on the other. She had to be careful not to cut Tiberius with her dagger as she sliced the boot. Finally, after several minutes of work, the boot came off Tiberius’ foot. There were some blisters, but for the most part, his foot was unscathed. His shin and calf were a completely different matter.

  “What now?” Robere asked.

  “We have to wake him up,” Lexi said. “He’s the only one who can heal his leg.”

  Robere hurried away to fetch a canteen of water. When he came back with it, Lexi stared at the water longingly. Robere poured some water into his hand and patted Tiberius’ cheeks.

  “Wake up, Master Tiberius,” he said in a gentle voice.

  “Ti!” Lexi shouted at him.

  Tiberius’ eyes fluttered, and the pain hit him, pinching his face into a mask of agony. Lexi held his hand, and he squeezed hers tight.

  “Tiberius,” she said more calmly. “Your leg is broken and burned. It’s bad, but you’ve got to heal it.”

  “Water,” he said, his voice nothing but a scratchy whisper.

  Robere lifted Tiberius’ head and dribbled water into Ti’s mouth. His swollen tongue lapped at the water greedily. They took their time, letting him drink and rest a little before he began his spell.

  “Are you ready?” Lexi asked.

  Tiberius nodded.

  “Do you need me to do anything?”

  “Don’t let me pass out,” he whispered.

  Lexi thought Tiberius looked strong, but she also knew that the healing process was hard on him. She’d seen the pain he experienced when healing other people and the toll it took on his body. She had no idea how difficult healing his own leg would be.