Weight of the Crown

by A. C. Cobble

  “Maybe the bastards will all kill each other,” said Rhys darkly.

  Ben glanced at the rogue and saw the man had already gained a bloody nick on his forehead. His chin was smudged with soot.

  “We’re supposed to be keeping them from killing each other,” reminded Ben.

  Rhys shrugged.

  “I can’t help but feel the same way when I look at this,” admitted Ben. He turned back and studied the city, searching for some inspiration, but he found nothing.

  “If this keeps up, the entire place is going to burn down around us,” said Lloyd, taking Ben’s other side. The blademaster pounded his fist against the stone wall of the turret. “The people are huddled in their houses, afraid to come out, and no one’s fighting those fires. It will turn into an inferno if we can’t stop this.”

  Ben turned to the mages. “Can you, I don’t know, make it rain?”

  Elle shook her head. “Manipulating the weather like that would be exceptionally dangerous. To do it on such short notice, there’s no calculating what the effects would be elsewhere…”

  “We’ve been trying to come up with a strategy, Ben,” said Amelie, frustration burning in her voice.

  “What do you think?” asked Ben, glancing at Lloyd.

  “He might come near to look, but he’s not climbing up here after me,” responded the blademaster. “With a spyglass, he could easily see me without exposing himself. He could be anywhere in the city, Ben. We’d have no way of knowing if he saw me or not, and we definitely wouldn’t get a clean shot on him. When you first said it, I was hopeful, but looking down from here… It’s just not going to work.”

  Ben turned to the city again, his anger and desperation growing as he saw fires, rampaging soldiers, and dead bodies.

  Six blocks from the castle’s walls, five hundred paces out of bow shot, a large party of Coalition forces was mustering. It wasn’t clear if they were intending an assault on the castle or if they were gathering to face an Alliance company. It was the largest group from either side that Ben could see, and the largest group of Coalition soldiers was the most likely to have Lord Jason at the head.

  “Earnest John,” asked Ben, “could you hit a man in that group from here?”

  John stomped to the window and peered out, his massive crossbow strapped tightly to his back.

  “I could hit several of them if you wanted me to, but I’m not sure it’d do much good. Killing a few here and there is a waste of my talent, and to be honest, I don’t want to do it.”

  “What if it was one individual man?” asked Ben. “A specific target.”

  John frowned and ran a hand along his black shock of hair, making sure it was still standing straight up. “Aye, I might be able to hit one man. It wouldn’t be a certain shot. This far away, it’d probably be even odds whether I struck him or missed.”

  “You could take multiple shots, though,” suggested Ben.

  John nodded and patted his quiver. “I have a dozen enchanted bolts, and I could use them all, if someone was stupid enough to stand there and let me fire on them that long.”

  “They’ll flood the tunnel at any moment, and opening the gate will be risky,” advised Lloyd.

  “Doing nothing is certain to be a disaster,” challenged Ben.

  Rhys, his eyes flicking between Ben and Lloyd, guessed, “You’re thinking you can draw out Lord Jason?”

  Ben shrugged. “If he knows Lloyd is here, in the city and crossing swords with Coalition men, I think he might show himself. If he does…”

  Rhys nodded. “It is risky, but it’s worth a try. I’ll get Adrick and all of his guardians. You’ll want him for this. A couple thousand more men, too, if we can pull them from the walls. When Jason comes, he won’t come alone. I’ll talk to the commander of Issen’s forces and see what they can spare. Most of Venmoor’s rangers are still in the field.”

  Ben nodded. “In one bell, we assemble behind the castle gate. Then, we strike.”

  “What is this?” asked Amelie, drawing herself up and meeting Ben’s eyes.

  “We’re hoping to draw Lord Jason out using Lloyd as bait. Then, Earnest John can put a hole in him. It won’t solve all of our problems, but it would solve one big one.”

  “Don’t you think you should run this plan by the leader of Issen?” asked Amelie frostily.

  Ben blinked and swallowed. Around them, the clash of battle marched on. “I, ah, Amelie… I didn’t think. You’re right. We should have asked you first. It’s… in the moment…”

  Amelie closed her eyes and allowed herself a little shudder. “You’re right. It is a good plan. Well, not good, but a better one than I have. You should do it, Ben, but next time, ask.”

  Ben exhaled a relieved breath, tension pouring out of his body. “Of course.”

  “And, Ben,” continued Amelie. “After this is over, we need to talk about how we should… We need to talk.”

  Ben gulped and felt the tension creeping back in. “After.”

  “If you lovebirds are done,” called Rhys from outside the turret where he was waiting, “Ben, I recommend we go down now and start organizing the men as they arrive. We’ll pull an assortment from various companies, and they’ll need to know who to report to outside of the castle.”

  Ben gripped Amelie’s hand and shared a quick kiss before turning to go with Rhys.

  Prem joined them and quietly said, “We saw Darla.”

  Rhys stumbled on an uneven stone in the walkway and kept going, not turning or responding. The former guardian winked at Ben, and he could only shake his head then duck it as a wave of arrows came clattering against the battlement.

  “Can’t we shoot back?” he called to some of the men manning the wall in front of them.

  “We are, m’lord,” offered a soldier clutching a bow. “They’re able to aim for the top of this wall to hit us, but they could be anywhere down there in the city. It’s not like they’re all standing next to torches and waving so we can see them, and we have to be careful it’s an actual soldier and not a citizen running between cover.”

  Ben grunted and continued down the wall, staying low, cursing every time another steel-tipped shaft flew nearby.

  Word of their plan was spreading before them, and men started calling out encouragement and offering to join. Ben instructed them to wait for orders from their officers, afraid to strip a critical part of wall of defenders, but it raised his spirit to see so many men eager to strike back and protect Issen.

  Men in Issen’s pale blue, farmers from the north, guardsmen from Kirksbane, they were all standing the wall together, unified in their opposition to the Alliance and the Coalition. Ben realized that if they survived the battle, the moment would unify the troops under Amelie.

  He said as much to Rhys, and the rogue grinned at him. “You think they’ll be loyal to Amelie?”

  “You don’t?” wondered Ben.

  “Ben,” reminded the rogue, “you’re Amelie’s general. This is your plan. You’re the one who will lead us out to face Jason. If it’s successful, it will be because of you.”

  “Oh,” said Ben, eyeing another group of soldiers who let out a whooping cheer as he rushed past.

  They made it to a massive open courtyard and the main gates of Issen’s castle. Manning the gates were scores of soldiers. Ben marched over to give orders on what to do.

  “What?” exclaimed the captain of the men. “You want us to open the gates in the midst of a battle?”

  “I do,” stated Ben.

  “You’ll get us all killed,” cried another man.

  Ben looked around the group, seeing a squad of young, inexperienced men. Their uniforms were pristine, like they’d dressed for a parade. All of their weapons were in the sheath, and none of them showed any evidence of injury or that they’d even seen the enemy yet. He realized they’d been standing there in the empty courtyard since the attack began. It was still the most action the younger ones had ever seen.

  “None of you have been on t
he wall, have you?” asked Ben.

  “Our orders are to hold this gate, sir,” the captain stated, drawing out sir like it was a splinter lodged in his foot. “We follow our orders, so no, we have not had time to do a lot of sight-seeing up on the walls.”

  “Then I guess you don’t know the city is burning out there or that thousands of troops are loose in Issen raping and pillaging.”

  The captain blinked back at him.

  “It’s not a big concern as long as everyone you know and love is behind these walls,” continued Ben. “Behind the walls, people are safe. All of Lady Amelie’s soldiers, all of my men, they’re here, behind the walls. Everyone outside, though, they’re on their own…”

  “My girl’s out there!” shouted a fuzzy-bearded man. “What did you mean by raping?”

  “Is your girl pretty?” asked Ben flatly.

  “I-I guess you could say that, m’lord.”

  Ben stared at the youth then turned and met the gaze of every other man standing behind the gate. “Well, if she’s a good-looking girl and she’s stuck out in the city, then I suppose maybe you do have something to be concerned about.”

  Grim faces looked back at him, and men thought about who they knew that had been stranded on the other side of the walls.

  “Neither the Coalition nor the Alliance has gained enough control of the city to marshal siege weapons against this gate,” said Ben raising his voice so every man in the courtyard heard him. “If we’re successful, maybe they won’t ever get enough control to do that. Right now, we don’t need a lot of people standing here watching a wooden wall. We need people out in the city, where the fight is taking place. Whoever wants to come with me, whoever wants to help protect the people of Issen, get your gear ready.”

  Murmurs broke out amongst the men, and Ben could see them whispering fiercely to each other, pained expressions on their faces.

  The captain stepped forward. “My niece is out there, m’lord.”

  “Everyone is welcome to join us, except you, captain,” responded Ben, lowering his voice so only the captain heard. “I need someone here to open the gate when we return, and you’re going to be in charge of them. We’ll do what we can out there. You do what you need to in here. If we’re successful, captain, then you don’t need to worry about your niece.”

  The captain swallowed, and nodded.

  Ben could see in the man’s eyes that he wasn’t relieved, and privately, Ben admitted that the man shouldn’t be. Even if they were successful, it wasn’t going to be over that easily. Ben didn’t need to share that with the men, though, not yet.

  He turned and began calling out orders to the streams of soldiers who were filtering into the courtyard. He dispatched Prem back to the top of the wall to confirm the knot of Coalition soldiers were still in the market and to plot a course to get there. He assigned units and commanders on the fly to form manageable squads, knowing that once they engaged, the structures would break into chaos, but if they could hold together until they engaged, they’d have a chance.

  Their plan wasn’t anchored around being able to definitively win every fight they found themselves in. It was to hold out long enough to draw Lord Jason. If the King of the Coalition was slaughtered by one of Earnest John’s crossbow bolts, the entire force could very well fall apart and retreat. The man was more than a political leader to the Coalition. He was their invincible blade that led the charge. Without him, morale would be shaken. Without him, the Coalition would fall back. Ben was certain of it.

  He wasn’t certain what they’d do about the Alliance afterward, but one step at a time.

  Time passed grindingly slow, and every breath brought more explosions and screams. He could feel the wall rock beside him as munitions and the will of the Coalition’s mages pounded against it. The choking stench of smoke filled the air. Without needing to see them, Ben knew the fires outside the walls were growing. He paced like a frustrated wolf, eager to leap into the hunt, but he knew they had to wait. Running out alone would only get him killed.

  At the end of the bell they’d allocated to gather men, he estimated over a thousand of them stood ready to follow.

  “There’s about as many Coalition forces in that square,” mentioned Prem quietly, her voice pitched so only Ben and their friends could hear.

  “We don’t have to beat them,” responded Ben. “We just need to punch hard enough that we bring Lord Jason into the fray.”

  “He’s really that good?” asked Adrick Morgan. The former guardian rested a hand on his translucent sword. “I’m not that bad, you know. I could face him.”

  “It might come to that,” admitted Ben. “If it does, I wish you the best of luck and warn you not to underestimate him. He’s the best blade I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’ve seen me,” mentioned Adrick.

  Ben held the former guardian’s gaze and did not reply.

  “Father,” said Prem.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured, putting a hand on her shoulder. “The plan is that Earnest John will end this man, and we are merely holding him in place. If that plan fails, well, there are always risks in battle.”

  “Let that sword shine freely,” advised Rhys. “Word of mage-wrought blades will draw Jason like a bear to honey.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good analogy, Rhys,” commented Ben.

  “What do you mean?” asked the rogue.

  “The bear eats the honey.”

  “Oh, right,” responded Rhys. “It’s like a bear to… like a…”

  “I think we get it,” said Ben. He turned and raised his voice, trying to be heard over the sounds of battle and the one thousand men in the square. “We strike fast. We bloody their nose. Then, we retreat once their leader, Lord Jason, is dead. I ask that you hold until we signal retreat, and when we fall back, do not get left behind. Once we’re through this gate and it closes, it’s not opening again to let in stragglers. Maintain discipline, and make Issen proud!”

  Not knowing what else to do, he raised his longsword high above his head and issued a bellowing war cry. One thousand men returned his gesture, raising their weapons and shouting their rage at the armies outside who were devastating their city.

  Ben nodded to the gate captain, and the man called orders to his squad. With a rumbling groan, iron bars as thick as Ben’s middle were drawn back, and heavy chains started to drag the huge wooden gates open.

  Ben stood in the center of the opening and found himself looking at a dozen men wearing Alliance white. A soldier in front of the group held a longbow with an arrow nocked, but he promptly dropped it and spun to flee when he saw the legion standing behind Ben. His companions were quick on his heels, none of them hesitating more than a heartbeat to run into the cover of the structures around the castle.

  “That’s a promising start,” said Rhys.

  Ben trotted out of the gate, the pounding thump of his men’s feet stirring his blood, driving him on into battle.

  It was only six blocks to the market square where they’d seen the Coalition men assembling, but that was a long way to move through a city under siege. Two blocks from the gate, arrows began to fly at their company, whistling over Ben’s head and falling into the column behind him. He winced at each scream that arose from his troops. Men were dying. His men were dying, and they couldn’t even see the enemy.

  One more block, and they started to surprise small parties of both Alliance and Coalition soldiers. Scouts, thrusting and parrying, trying to find the strength of their opponents. Like the ones outside of the gates, none of the small groups showed any interest in engaging. They turned tail and ran the moment they saw Ben’s force. Even when they came across several score of men battling each other on one street, they broke apart and scattered in different directions when Ben and his men came into view.

  Noting which way the grey-clad Coalition soldiers were fleeing, Ben shouted back to his captains, “Look alive. They’ll know we’re coming.”

  “Watch for ambushes,” yel
led Lloyd, scanning the doors and windows near them.

  Around a corner, a block ahead of them, a grey-clad man came pelting into view. He skidded to a stop, looked to be counting, and then spun to run away.

  Serrot’s arrow arced through the night and thumped into his back.

  A spontaneous cheer erupted from the column at the first strike back at their opponents.

  “Nice shot,” complimented Ben.

  “That’s the first time I’ve killed a man,” whispered the hunter.

  “You did the right thing,” assured Ben.

  “If they’re sending scouts to count us, they’re going to be ready,” declared Lloyd. “We need to hit them hard. Push them back on their heels to give our men time to get into the square. Otherwise, they’ll bottle us up in the street. If they have archers they can put on the roofs, we’ll be in trouble, Ben.”

  “Adrick, Rhys,” instructed Ben. “I want your swords to blaze bright enough that every man in that square sees you coming. We’ll be right behind you, but you’re the tip of the knife. Lloyd, stay close to them so the Coalition soldiers can see you in the light of the weapons.”

  “Tips of the knife,” clarified Rhys. “There are two of us. Let’s be accurate.”

  Ben stared at his friend and shook his head.

  “Do you think you can keep up with my father?” asked Prem, drawing close to the rogue.

  Rhys frowned at her uncertainly.

  “I’ll be impressed if you can,” she said. She leaned close and pecked him on the cheek. “See you after the fight.”

  The rogue’s face flashed with heat, and now it was Adrick’s turn to frown uncertainly at the girl. He looked toward Rhys, but the rogue scurried ahead, apparently deciding that facing a thousand Coalition troops was better than the girl’s father.

  “Oh boy,” mumbled Ben.

  He didn’t have time to wonder what Prem’s game was as a hail of arrows rained down on them. Picking up his pace, Ben drove the men faster, knowing that with the archers out of sight, there was nothing they could do except get themselves out of range as quickly as possible. He led them another block, one eye on the sky, one eye looking for the entrance to the market square.