A Coronation of Kings

by Samuel Stokes

  ‘For a hundred years we have succeeded and the land has known peace...until today.’ Dariyen’s thoughts were his own as he walked the Inner East Wall eying the Wolf as they prepared their weapons of war.

  Gerwold the Pretender...Dariyen thought, centuries of peace shattered by one man’s unquenchable lust for power. Dariyen could scarcely conceive the damage that might be done should he succeed. Looking upon the sea of banners assembled beyond the outer walls, that success seemed probable.

  Dariyen shook off his doubts. ‘Three days,’ the message from Halmir had read. If they could hold The Court for three days, they would be relieved.

  Dariyen was snapped from his thoughts as an ear splitting crash rang out. The bombardment had begun and a giant boulder had smashed through a home in the outer districts of the city. The simple construction offered little resistance to the hurtling boulder and half of the house collapsed in a heap.

  It’s going to be a long three days, Dariyen thought to himself, as he moved to the safety of the Western wall.

  In a prolonged siege it was the citizenry that suffered the most. Their lives and property destroyed by the besieging forces as unavoidable collateral damage. The Wolf did not have the luxury of time for a prolonged siege and their engineers would need to improve their accuracy if they were to breach the walls before the defenders could be relieved.

  The eastern suburbs had largely been evacuated, those who had not left earlier fled in terror as the bombardment began. Clouds of dust and debris spread as the bombardment took its toll. A boulder from a trebuchet struck the crenellation at the top of the wall and the masonry shattered.

  As the dust settled a gaping hole could be seen where the stonework had been dislodged by the heavy boulder. A jubilant whoop went up from the besieging forces and the engineers began adjusting the other siege weapons for the same mark. Enough sustained bombardment and even the Curtain Wall of King’s Court would crumble.

  Afternoon passed into evening and the relentless bombardment continued. The engineers content to work by torchlight as they continued to pound away at the ever growing chasm in the Western Wall. Sentries and troops had been stationed to ensure a defense should it be breached. Dariyen continued to make his rounds checking on his sentries and keeping the men in readiness.

  As he made his way along the north wall he looked out at the forces of Fordham. Their immense battering ram was still under construction, less industrious than the Wolf it seemed they were at rest, barely a torch could be seen in the camp as the soldiers rested from their march. It was a dark night; the moon lay hidden behind dense clouds as a storm moved ominously over the city.

  As he moved along the Western Wall a sense of uneasiness struck him. The Mizumuran camp was almost completely dark. A few fires had burnt low; others had gone out as he surveyed the scene the hairs on his neck began to stand on end. There was none of the carousing expected of men at war. It was far too quiet.

  Dariyen turned to a nearby sentry, ‘How long has it been like this?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The silence.’ Dariyen pressed, ‘How long has it been this quiet?’

  ‘About an hour, Captain, seems they bedded down shortly after dinner, Corporal figures Velas for a dawn assault.’

  ‘Give me your bow.’

  The sentry lifted his bow from its resting place and handed it to the captain. Reaching into a nearby barrel Dariyen drew an unusual arrow. Its head had been packed with tow and soaked in mutton fat, it would burn brightly when lit. The captain stuck the arrow head into a nearby brazier and the flames caught quickly.

  Nocking the blazing arrow Dariyen fired into the darkness. The arrow blazed through the air casting a light as it travelled. The arrow moved quickly until it struck something hard, stopping abruptly. For a few seconds it sat there, suspended in the air. Both men watching in stunned silence as they saw the flames lap at the surface it had embedded into.

  There fifty paces from the wall was a Mizumuran siege tower...

  *****

  ‘Sound the Alarm!’ Dariyen shouted. ‘We’re under attack. Men of the guard, with me!’ Nearby a bleary-eyed sentry began ringing the alarm. At its toll, garrison soldiers began pouring out of their makeshift camps throughout the city and making their way towards the wall.

  On hearing the bell, the Mizumura abandoned all pretence of stealth and the towers began rumbling towards the wall at a quicker pace. Dozens of soldiers swarmed around the bases of the various towers lending their manpower to the Endeavour.

  Each of the towers were essentially a series of platforms connected by ladders and sheltered from arrows and other weapons by a protective timberwork. Inside the towers torches were lit so the attackers could better climb the internal workings. The topmost platform consisted of a timberwork that provided further defense, once the tower reached the wall it could be lowered allowing the soldiers within to storm onto the ramparts and fight on an even footing rather than the tremendous disadvantage most besieging forces suffered as they scaled ropes and ladders in an attempt to scale the tremendous walls.

  In seconds the Mizumura would be on the walls and Dariyen had only moments to organize his defense. Dariyen hastily began barking orders at his assembled officers. ‘Archers, focus on those at the base of the tower. Try to slow their advance. Phillips, Godfrey, take your companies to the south. Cut them off before they can reach the Cliff Wall, we cannot allow them to slip into the city or Palace. In the dark they could cause all manner of problems.

  Simmons pull a company from the Eastern Wall, the Wolf should be little threat until the wall comes down, take that company to the North and ready the defenses against Fordham. His towers are still in camp, but I doubt they will be there for long. Ready the oil and pitch give them a warm reception. The Mizumura will test us here. Send any assistance you can spare.’

  His officers snapped a salute and disappeared into the night. Archers thronged the wall and began harrying the attackers as best they could. The press of Mizumuran soldiers was so dense it was almost impossible to miss. One of the towers ground to a halt as the dense clouds of arrows slaughtered the soldiers at its base.

  Still the other towers rolled on. From the light of the walls Dariyen made out at least nine others still rolling towards the wall. With a grinding thud the first tower made contact with the wall. Seconds later the timberwork at the front descended with a thud. The framework forming a makeshift bridge to the ramparts. Dariyen drew his long sword and ran towards the tower, the warriors of King’s Court only a step behind their captain as he sprinted along the wall.

  The first Mizumurans burst out of the tower, their green colors and steel armour glinting in the torchlight. The soldiers stormed across the make-shift bridge only to be greeted with a fusillade of arrow fire. The first rank fell as dozens of arrows found their mark. One unfortunate soldier lost his footing and fell from the bridge, an audible crunch told of the soldiers at the towers base who had arrested his fall. Others stepped over the bodies and swarmed onto the ramparts overwhelming the few defenders that stood ready to meet them.

  Dariyen burst furiously into the fray. Without slowing he simply dropped his shoulder in his best impression of a human battering ram. The first Mizumura he struck went staggering backwards and tumbled off the inner edge of the wall to the cobblestone street below.

  With both hands, the First Captain of King’s Court bought his long sword around in a devastating arc and cut down another two assailants. A fourth Mizumura leapt from the bridge in an attempt to tackle the captain to the ground. Seeing the charging man, a nearby soldier lifted his shield, in a deft motion he caught the charging soldier, shouldered his weight on the shield and turned quickly, dumping both the soldier and his shield onto the street far below.

  The Mizumura were relentless in their assault, as quickly as they could scale the ladders within the siege towers, they would hurl themselves at the defenders. The soldiers of King’s Court refused to give an inch, rallying behind the
ir captain they cut down wave after wave of green-clad attackers. For every foe cut down another would fill his place. Dariyen glanced down the wall. In spite of the sturdy defense being mounted, the Mizumura had caught them flatfooted and were slowly gaining a footing on the wall.

  ‘We must stem the tide before we are overwhelmed,’ Dariyen shouted to the soldiers at his side. As the next Mizumura charged towards the ramparts, Dariyen ducked under a blow that would have taken his head off his shoulders. Springing back to his feet he drove his sword into the charging soldier catching him just below the breastplate. As the soldier fell Dariyen grabbed him by the chest plate and pulled him to the rampart. Seizing the initiative, he sprang forward onto the wide stone crenellation and leapt onto the bridge.

  As he led the charge into the Mizumuran Siege tower, Dariyen drove forward stepping into the next assailant. The Mizumuran wielded a wicked katana, it glinted as the torchlight caught its blade Dariyen had no doubt of the soldier’s proficiency. The balanced footing and measured stance told him the man would be a formidable opponent in the tournament arena.

  Stepping forward the Mizumuran bought the blade across in a horizontal stroke aimed at Dariyen’s unprotected left flank. Bringing his blade up, he parried the stroke and kept moving forward and delivered a punishing blow to the soldiers face with the gauntleted fist of his sword arm. The weight of the blow shattered the soldier’s nose. Before the stunned warrior could react Dariyen had shifted his weight and grabbed his assailant by the top of his breastplate. Seconds later the green-clad warrior was hurled unceremoniously from the bridge.

  ‘This isn’t the arena.’ Dariyen reminded himself, no dueling etiquette here, only survival. Hesitation would bring death. Crossing into the tower itself Dariyen could see another soldier climbing the ladder. Moving quickly, he drove his sword into the surprised man’s side. The wounded soldier released his hold on the ladder and fell, collecting the soldier below him as he went.

  Reaching down, Dariyen lifted the ladder and pulled it up onto the topmost floor of the siege tower ensuring that no other Mizumurans could reach the wall. Hopefully the Mizumura could be driven back before a replacement ladder could be found.

  Passing the ladder to a nearby ally Dariyen severed the ropes holding the bridge in place and ran for the safety of the parapets. Once he was safely back on the wall, a number of soldiers grabbed the now loose bridge and pushed it free of the wall. The large timberwork scraped against the wall and tower as it fell, before coming to a grinding halt at the base of the wall.

  Further to the south Corporal Phillips reached the Cliff Wall and took up a defensive position. His orders had been clear. Under no circumstances were the Mizumura to breach the Wall and gain the inner city. Phillips set about fortifying the tower’s entrance. Glancing along the wall it became apparent that the defenders of King’s Court were beginning to gain the advantage as reinforcements arrived from throughout the city. Men thronged the wall in an attempt to push the besieging forces from the wall.

  Several of the towers were ablaze where the defenders had successfully managed to set them alight. The flood of Mizumura began to slow as they struggled to gain access to the wall. Corporal Godfrey found himself in a more precarious position, having fought his way past one of the remaining functional siege towers his company now found themselves cut off from retreat as Mizumuran forces flooded out of the towers to their fore and rear. Realizing his position too late there was little that could be done. The nearest stairs lay on the other side of an ever increasing horde of Mizumuran warriors, dropping from the wall to the streets below would result in injury at best, with death being the far more likely outcome.

  Godfrey surveyed his position, ‘Defensive formation, men, shields at the front and rear, archers to the centre. We needn’t carry the day alone; if we can hold out we will be relieved.’ The defenders of King’s Court tightened ranks to meet the charge. With a furious howl the green-clad soldiers hurled themselves at the trapped defenders. The sturdy steel of the shields stood firm as the heavy blows rained down again and again.

  To the rear of the tight formation soldiers slowly began to fall. The weight of numbers heavily in favor of the surrounding Mizumura. Slowly at first, here and there a soldier would fall, but every loss tipped the scales and soon the rearguard was in disarray. Try as the archers might to harry the besieging forces, still they came on.

  The surrounded soldiers fought like cornered rats, slaying dozens but to no avail it appeared the beleaguered group would perish. Out of the darkness a loud twang split the air. The sound of a large projectile could be heard cutting through the air before it slammed into the Mizumura. An arrow the length of a man tore through their ranks impaling five of them as if their armour was little more than paper. Godfrey looked for his deliverer, atop the high towers of the inner wall a Lion’s Fang Ballista was being hastily reloaded as its engineers worked to adjust its aim.

  The second shot flew high of the outer wall, a miss they thought at first until the blazing bolt struck one of the siege towers. The impact caused the bags attached to the bolt to burst and the top floor of the siege tower was engulfed in flames, as the mix of tallow, pitch and oil burned brightly.

  Mizumurans burst from the tower their clothes ablaze from the unnatural fire. Men screamed as they tried to put out the flames only to be cut down by the few remaining soldiers of Godfrey Company.

  Reinforcements rushed the wall as the Lions Fang continued to sow death and confusion amongst the Mizumura. The stealth attack had relied on reaching the wall before the alarm could sound. Now robbed of its impetus and many of their towers, the Mizumuran assault floundered.

  A horn sounded in the distance and the Mizumura began to withdraw. An exhausted Godfrey was leaning on his sword catching his breath when Captain Dariyen made his way down the wall. The captain looked tired, his once shining armour now spattered with the blood of the fallen, he himself sported a gash above his left eyebrow that was slowly bleeding down his face, he looked terrifying.

  Dariyen took in the scene about him, dozens of King’s Court finest lay amongst the fallen. Hundreds of Mizumura had been slain before they had sounded the retreat. Dariyen sorrowed for his men, those that would never again see the homes they had perished defending. Fighting back fatigue he began barking orders, ‘Godfrey, get Phillips, care for our injured and bury the dead. Burn those towers to cinders before morning. I don’t want them being used again. I’m off to the Western Wall, come find me if anything goes awry.’

  ‘What of the Mizumura?’

  ‘They are guilty of murder and treason, every last one of them...Give no quarter; dead or alive hurl them off the wall.’

  With that the captain turned and departed the same way he’d come.

  Chapter 33

  Between Belnair and King’s Court

  As the night wore on the guild’s forces continued their march, determined to relieve King’s Court they had marched all day and into the night without complaint. Five thousand men at arms, driven by the single determination of stopping Gerwold before he could seize the throne.

  Pride filled his heart as Tristan surveyed his men. They had come from all walks of life, some had served his father in the Listarii house guard, others had begun as criminals in the Guilds employ until the Underman had seized control and turned them to a higher purpose. Now united in both purpose and strength perhaps they might bring Gerwold to heel.

  Halmir reigned in beside Tristan and Syrion who were conversing quietly. ‘Tristan, it’s the third watch. The men would march all night for you, but if they did they would be in no state to meet the Wolf. We must rest.’

  Tristan nodded. ‘You are right as always, Halmir, let’s make camp on that knoll, we are only a few hours march from King’s Court. Set sentries, we must ensure no one can catch us unawares.’

  ‘I’ll stand with the first watch to be sure. I’m sure the Wolf’ scouts are aware of our presence, if there is an attack it will come just before dawn.’ Halmi
r responded.

  Bjorne of the Sisaron should make it to King’s Court by midday. We will time our arrival with Sisaron’s so we can attempt to pincer Gerwold between our forces. Sisaron on one flank, us on the other. We’ll crush them against the walls of King’s Court.

  ‘What of the Tanamere?’ Halmir asked inquisitively.

  ‘Tanamere should be safely in port at King’s Court by dawn, their army will bolster the walls, hopefully with their support the walls will hold till we can arrive.’

  ‘They must hold.’ Halmir insisted. ‘Gerwold on the Throne. Such a thing doesn’t bare thinking about.’

  ‘Indeed. For now, we rest and hope. Six hours of sleep is all we can afford. Then we march.’

  ‘Understood. I’ll have the men break ranks and form camp at once.’ Halmir departed leaving the two brothers to themselves.’

  ‘One day you will have to tell me how all this came to be,’ Syrion stated casually.

  ‘How what came to be?’

  ‘How the orphaned son of an eastern noble came to lead one of the largest militia’s in the history of Valaar.’

  ‘It’s simple. They took me in when I had nothing, in the last few years I have spent every waking hour teaching them all I know of weapons and war. We have fought and bled together. Somewhere along the way this happened.’

  ‘Many of them will die tomorrow,’ Syrion stated matter-of-factly.

  ‘All of us may...’ Tristan gestured at the surrounding army. ‘Are you willing to lay down your life for this...for our freedom?’

  ‘I am,’ Syrion answered definitively. ‘But you must know, Brother, tomorrow is simply the beginning. The heavens are in commotion and conflict has broken out throughout Creation, I can feel it. Gerwold is but a pawn in a larger struggle. The Great Enemy moves with increasing boldness. We cannot fail or we will lose far more than our freedom.’