by A. E. Rayne
‘Why aren’t you attacking them with arrows?’ Hakon yelled at Lief, spittle flying. The sky was clearing now, cloaked in dull clouds, but the fog had gone, and they could see that the battle for the harbour was evenly matched.
‘We’re running low,’ Lief said calmly, wiping his eye. Hakon was becoming as demanding as a toddler. And not for the first time. ‘We must keep some in reserve, my lord.’
‘For what?’ Hakon barked. ‘You want them to get in here? To wait until then?’
‘I don’t want to hit our men,’ Lief tried.
‘Good, don’t, hit theirs!’ And growling in anger, Hakon strode away, his thoughts turning to his wife for the first time in hours. If Reinar Vilander got into the fort, he would have to hurry to her side. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his family.
And then he blinked, coming to a stop, looking to his left.
Confused.
‘Why are there no men to the west?’ he growled, spinning back to Lief. ‘Why have you no men guarding the main gates?’
Alys froze, needing to distract Hakon. ‘My lord!’
But Hakon was not inclined to be distracted, and he continued to glare at Lief. ‘This entire fort should be protected! What is wrong with you? Get men down there now!’ His attention snapped to Alys, avoiding her eyes, not wanting a reminder of what he’d done to her. Of what she had said. ‘What do you see?’
‘More ships!’ It was all that came to mind. ‘More ships are coming!’
‘From where?’ Hakon’s eyes popped open. ‘Where?’
‘I... the headland! They’re coming into the harbour!’ It was true, Alys realised, seeing glimpses of Ludo leading his tiny fleet towards the harbour to help Sigurd.
Hakon acted quickly, jaw clenching. ‘Lief, take one hundred men! Take two hundred! Get down to the piers, through the harbour gates. Jerrick! Send thirty men into the square to secure the main gates! Thirty more on the wall!’ He leaned over the ramparts, wanting to see some sign that his men had the upper hand down on the piers, though they were still shunting, edging back and forth, screaming insults, neither side giving way.
Hakon growled, thinking of all the catapults and siege towers they’d left behind in Ottby. Though, he reminded himself, he would not damage those precious ships.
He would not sink them.
And swinging around again, chest burning, he strode back to Alys.
48
After helping Aldo open the gates, Eddeth had been tempted to flee.
She felt afraid, but she would never abandon Alys.
And besides, body twitching as she waited beside Aldo in the alley near the gates, she was sure there was more work to be done.
Aldo trembled, listening to the pounding of boots overhead, hearing shouts in the distance. Eddeth dragged him further down the alley, away from the guard tower as more armed men came charging through the square, eyes on the open gates.
‘Secure those gates!’
The men who had hurried down the ramparts saw the slumped bodies of the sleeping guards, some snoring loudly. And hearing a rumbling noise in the distance, they caught a glimpse of the band of warriors running for the fort.
‘Ottby men are coming! Hurry! Get the gates shut!’
The men in the square abandoned shields, sheathing weapons, quickly pushing the creaking gates shut, suddenly aware that there was no beam to hold them in place.
‘What’s going on?’ one man shouted, eyes sweeping the ground, looking around. ‘Where’s the beam?’
No one knew, and for a moment they were frozen, listening to the signal bell clanging above their heads.
‘Just hold them shut!’ came the panicked cries above. ‘Form up behind them! Shield wall!’
‘Archers!’
They didn’t have archers. They were all down on the eastern wall.
It was too late for archers.
Reinar led his men, Jonas and Vik’s too, running at the head of a wedge, shield up, sword in hand. The gates were closed, but he could hear the men on the wall. He heard shouts from behind the gates.
Panic.
And that panic told him to run harder.
It was hard to read minds when you weren’t a dreamer, though knowing each other as well as they did, Sigurd hoped that Ludo could guess what he was thinking.
And what he was thinking was that he needed help.
He stabbed with his sword, knowing that it wasn’t the most effective weapon in a shield wall – those tight spaces made it hard to move your arms – but his long knife had slipped out of his hand, lost underfoot. The old boards of the pier were slick with blood now, bodies lying at their feet, some still moving, getting in their way. And through gaps between their shields, they could see more men coming through the harbour gates.
He wondered where Reinar was.
Whether Alys had been able to help them.
Yelping as a blade scraped his leg, Sigurd jerked back. Torfinn popped up, slamming his axe down on the man’s head. Torfinn’s bearded axe was proving useful, hooking shields, dragging them down, but Hakon Vettel’s men were doing damage to their walls. He could hear screams as the shield wall on the neighbouring pier started collapsing, men splashing into the harbour.
Blinking, trying to see through another splattering of blood, Sigurd wondered if anyone was coming? Ludo? Reinar? Alys? Bolli?
He needed help.
They couldn’t hold the harbour for long.
Reinar slammed into the main gates, shield first, hitting them in the centre, left shoulder jarring, wishing he’d thought to use his right. Pain exploded, memories of Ottby flashing before his eyes. The gates popped open, the force of his body dragging them apart, knocking those few men who were hurrying to form a shield wall down to the ground. ‘Hold them here!’ Reinar screamed at Jonas, quickly pulling his men away, knowing they didn’t have long to get down to the harbour gates.
And then he saw scores of armed men charging through the square towards them.
Eddeth had dragged Aldo further down the alley at the sound of Reinar’s voice, resisting the urge to announce their presence. ‘We have to help them.’ She nibbled her fingers, trying to see a path in her mind. ‘We must help them!’
‘How?’
‘How about a little fire?’ And catching a glimpse of a sword-twirling Vik Lofgren, fighting beside Jonas, she disappeared.
Jonas could sense that Alys was close, and it spurred him on. The sneering young warrior in front of him spurred him on too.
‘Back again?’ the young man grinned, feeling confident about his chances against this old has-been.
Then a blade pushed through his throat, pointing at Jonas, who leaned out, looking around the horrified man to find Ollo drawing out his bloody sword. And turning as the man collapsed to the ground, Jonas ducked a flying spear, which struck the gate behind him, quickly followed by another, clattering into the dust. ‘Keep low!’
‘Ollo Narp, you cheating bastard!’ came the cry, though few were truly surprised to see that Ollo had turned on another lord. That slippery worm was always bound to follow the silver road, wherever it led.
Ollo didn’t care what anyone thought. He cared about saving his arse, which was in danger of being strung up by Hakon Vettel if they didn’t get to the harbour gates. More men were flooding out of the guard towers now, down the steps, into the square.
They were quickly surrounded.
Reinar heard Berger shouting Ilene’s name, though he couldn’t see either of them. He grunted, shield out, slamming its iron rim into a one-eyed man’s cheekbone, knocking him sideways.
He had to get to Sigurd.
Eyes up on the ramparts in the distance, he thought he saw a glimpse of golden hair, and distracted for a moment, he was too slow to react, catching a blade on the cheek. ‘Aarrghh!’ Pulling away with a roar, Reinar saw Vik cut across his path, taking two blades to the man’s face, not letting up until he was down on the ground, skin in bloody ribbons, throat slit.
‘We
have to get to the harbour!’ Reinar panted, trying to see a way through.
And then he blinked, certain he could smell smoke.
‘Fire at those men!’ Lief bellowed as Ludo and his crews jumped down onto the piers, ready to support Sigurd.
Alys stood by Jerrick, whose head was swivelling as he tried to keep up with Hakon’s orders. Hakon was stomping up and down behind them, and she feared what he would do next. He was talking loudly to himself, as though he was in the midst of an argument, seething with rage. She needed to keep his attention on the harbour, though Hakon kept staring back at the western wall, wanting to know what was happening.
‘Is my wife safe?’ he shouted suddenly, pulling Alys to him. ‘What’s happening? Is she safe?’
Alys looked surprised. ‘I... don’t know. Why wouldn’t she be?’
‘But your dreams?’
‘She’s safe while the fort is secure. You must only worry if there’s a breach.’
The signal bell in the distance was a concern, though it had gone silent now, and Hakon knew that any trouble outside the gates would take time to become a problem. Still, the memory of Alys’ vision stayed with him. ‘Olag, you’re in command of the wall! Jerrick! Get down to the harbour. Help Lief!’ And yanking Alys after him, Hakon headed for the guard tower.
The smoke smelled like Eddeth, and Reinar almost smiled, certain that she was out there somewhere, trying to help them.
They had been in the fort many times over the years, helping Sirrus Ahlmann beat back attacks from the Vettels, and Reinar knew many of its secrets. So leaving Jonas and Vik and their men in the smoke, fighting off the onslaught of Slussfall warriors, Reinar motioned for Bjarni and Berger to bring their men, and, finger to his lips, he slipped away into the smoke.
Jonas sensed them go, knowing that soon they would be spotted, so he made a lot of noise, drawing attention to himself. ‘You want to fight for Hakon Vettel?’ he growled at the men surrounding him. ‘A weak boy, cursed by the gods? Doomed to die by Thenor’s hand?’ He coughed, smoke clogging his dry throat. ‘Are you mad? Mad enough to hold your oath when even the gods have broken with your lord? Thenor wants him dead, The Hunter has marked him, and you still want to hang on?’
Vik fought beside him as Jonas bellowed, trying to sow doubt in their enemies’ minds. It never hurt to unsettle an enemy, though there wasn’t even a hint that anyone was listening to him.
‘What’s going on?’ came the furious roar in the distance. ‘Kill them!’
Hakon was outraged that anyone had gotten inside the fort. He couldn’t see more than shapes through the thick smoke, but he could certainly see that the gates were open, and drawing his sword, he pushed the dreamer behind him. ‘Alys, go! Go to the hall! You must protect my wife! My son!’ It was an odd thing to say, he realised, though Alys nodded, knowing that he was right. ‘Drag open those gates!’ Hakon screamed, lunging into the smoke. ‘Wider! Get the breeze flowing!’
Jonas twisted around, hearing his granddaughter’s name. Heart gripped in a cold hand of fear, he wanted to charge through the smoke and find her, but he heard Vik growling beside him, and he kept his stinging eyes on the task at hand.
‘Let’s go, before the smoke does.’ And slipping away from Jonas, keeping his head low, Vik headed for the alley after Reinar, hearing Jonas turn after him.
Ludo’s men pushed up to reinforce Sigurd’s shield wall, and Ludo could hear the relief in his friend’s voice.
‘You took your time.’
‘Thought you might like a chance to do something heroic. Give you something to talk about at the celebration feast!’
Sigurd grinned, then frowned, eyeing Torfinn, who had dropped to his knees. ‘What is it? Torfinn?’
‘Nothing!’ Torfinn insisted, swaying as one of Ludo’s men took his place. ‘Nothing.’ And he tipped sideways, legs cut to ribbons.
‘Torfinn!’ Ludo shouted as one of his men dropped down to check Torfinn’s wounds. An arrow thumping into his shield quickly drew Ludo away from his injured friend, straight back to where Lief Gundersen was commanding a new influx of Slussfall men.
Sigurd saw him. ‘Bolli!’ And turning to where their fleet waited in the harbour, he lifted up his sword, waving it like a banner. ‘Now!’
Bolli, half deaf and grumbling away to himself, bellowed at his oarsmen. ‘You hold water! Hold steady now! Archers! Let’s help those boys out!’ The wind was strengthening, though there was no fog in the harbour anymore and they could see exactly where they needed to aim. ‘Steady now! Steady!’ Bolli warned, head swinging left and right, turning his eyes up to the fort with a squint, hoping upon hope that the Vettels weren’t going to try and sink their ships.
Lief could no longer hear Hakon shouting from the ramparts above him, though it gave him no confidence to think that Jerrick was in charge, knowing how easily Hakon could bully him. Still, at least he couldn’t hear Hakon causing more problems, confusing everyone. Quickly dragging his attention back to his shield, Lief felt the man on his right stumble, though a shove with his shoulder had him upright again, stabbing through the gap between their shields.
He could see glimpses of Sigurd Vilander’s smug face opposite him now, urging his men on, barracking insults, and he heard Falla’s voice in his head demanding that he abandon Hakon. Alys’ voice too.
But they didn’t understand. They would never understand.
Surrender to the Vilanders?
Lief didn’t think so.
Falla jumped off the bed as the door swung open, eyes on Alys, who rushed into the chamber. ‘What’s happened?’
Karolina had only just managed to get Anders to sleep, but he was quickly awake, crying again. ‘Are they in the fort?’
Both women had heard the sounds of battle coming closer, growing increasingly worried.
‘Yes, but it’s alright, they’re here to help us.’
Karolina wasn’t convinced. ‘But what if they hurt us?’ She glanced at Falla, who’d sent Borg to sit near the fire with his nursemaid, who was trying to tempt the little boy with an apple.
Falla felt impatient, wanting to know if Lief was alright. ‘They want to kill our husbands, Karolina, not us.’
‘But Alys’ dream!’
Falla ignored her, irritated by the crying baby, who had the lungs of a bellowing dragon. ‘Don’t you want to get away from Hakon? Don’t you want your freedom?’
Karolina very much wanted her freedom, and she nodded.
‘Then go and sit on the bed with your son, see if you can get him back to sleep. We must stay here and wait.’ Falla eyed Alys, who knew she was right.
For soon, Reinar would come to kill Karolina’s son.
Reinar heard a shout behind him, and ignoring it, he tried to keep his attention on what was before him, which would hopefully soon be the harbour gates.
Someone tripped behind him. He heard a yelp and a thump, thinking it was Bjarni, though he couldn’t look around. He needed to get to those gates to let his brother and their men in.
Vik had almost caught up to him now, Jonas on his left shoulder. They knew how to get through the back alleys with their eyes closed, and with the amount of smoke swilling around them, they may as well have been running with their eyes closed.
Vik stumbled, jumping over a cat that had chosen the wrong moment to bound across the alley. Jonas nearly went over after him, but they both managed to hold their balance, charging after Reinar, who had reached the steps leading down to the harbour gates.
The archers on both sides enjoyed some success for a time, but as Bolli and his fellow helmsmen continued to pummel the Slussfallers from their ships, the men on the wall fell silent.
And though he couldn’t turn around, that silence carved a hole of fear into Lief’s heart. Their men had run out of arrows. He wasn’t surprised, knowing how many they’d expended in Ottby. Likely the Vilanders had simply collected them all, doubling their own stores in the process.
And then Sigurd Vilander’s shield
wall started advancing, moving forward, one step at a time. The boards were slippery, but they were united, shields locked in place as they shunted forward.
‘More men!’ Lief cried, crouching behind his shield. ‘Send more men!’ Turning back, he wasn’t fast enough to dodge a blade aimed at his lower leg, and it skewered him like a pig, blade digging in deep, scraping bone, before its owner yanked it out, preparing to stab him again. Lief quickly pulled out of the wall, shield at his chest, teeth gritted, unable to rest his weight on his right leg as his men closed up the gap. He heard splashes as some fell into the harbour, the cold water attacking their limbs, their heavy mail quickly pulling them under. ‘More men!’ he gasped, voice straining, hobbling now. ‘Jerrick!’
And then another hiss of arrows and Lief threw up his shield, slipping on his own blood, falling to the ground with a crash.
Hakon quickly saw that they were mostly fighting smoke and each other, and puzzled by that as the smoke started to clear, he realised that his enemy must have headed for the harbour gates. So roaring and coughing, he ordered his men back through the square, needing to get ahead of them.
‘Forward!’ Ludo bellowed behind Sigurd. ‘Move forward!’
The boards grew as slippery as ice, blood slick beneath their boots now, and they stepped with care, shields resting against turned shoulders and arms, aching bodies hunched over, bloody blades at their sides.
Edging closer.
Sigurd’s eyes were on the gates, wanting to see his brother, worried why he hadn’t. There wasn’t even a hint that those gates were under attack yet. He saw Lief Gundersen, though, hobbling around, barely able to stand.
