Then Gardan was among them, like a towering black giant, dealing blows to all who stood before. Suddenly the men of Crydee pressed forward, a wave of flesh and steel along the narrow rampart. The Tsurani stood their ground, refusing to yield the hard-won breach, and to a man were killed.
Arutha struck a Tsurani warrior with the bell guard of his rapier, knocking him to the ground below, and turned to find the wall once more in the possession of the defenders. Horns blew from the Tsurani lines, and the attackers withdrew.
Arutha became aware the sun had cleared the mountains to the east. The morning had finally come. He surveyed the scene below and felt suddenly more fatigued than he could ever remember. Turning slowly, he saw every man on the wall was watching him. Then one of the soldiers shouted, ‘Hail, Arutha! Hail, Prince of Crydee!’
Suddenly the castle was ringing with shouts as men chanted, ‘Arutha! Arutha!’
To Gardan, Arutha asked, ‘Why?’
With a satisfied look the sergeant replied, ‘They saw you personally take the fight to the Tsurani, Highness, or heard from others. They are soldiers and expect certain things from a commander. They are now truly your men, Highness.’
Arutha stood quietly as the cheers filled the castle. Then he raised his hand and the courtyard fell silent. ‘You have done well. Crydee is served aright by her soldiers.’ He spoke to Gardan. ‘Change the watch upon the walls. We may have little time to enjoy the victory.’
As if his words were an omen, a shout came from a guard atop the nearest tower. ‘Highness, ’ware the field.’
Arutha saw the Tsurani lines had been re-formed. Wearily he said, ‘Have they no limit?’
Instead of the expected attack, a single man walked from the Tsurani line, apparently an officer by his crested helm. He pointed to the walls, and the entire Tsurani line erupted in cheers. He walked farther, within bow range, stopping several times to point at the wall. His blue armor glinted in the morning sun as the attackers cheered with his gestures toward the castle.
‘A challenge?’ said Gardan, watching the strange display as the man showed his back, unmindful of personal danger, and walked back to his own lines.
‘No,’ said Amos Trask, who came to stand next to Gardan. ‘I think they salute a brave enemy.’ Amos shook his head slightly. ‘A strange people.’
Arutha said, ‘Shall we ever understand such men?’
Gardan put his hand upon Arutha’s shoulder. ‘I doubt it. Look, they quit the field.’
The Tsurani were marching back toward their tents before the remains of Crydee town. A few watchmen were left to observe the castle, but it was clear the main force was being ordered to stand down again. Gardan said, ‘I would have ordered another assault.’ His voice betrayed his disbelief. ‘They have to know we are near exhaustion. Why not press the attack?’
Amos said, ‘Who can say. Perhaps they, too, are tired.’
Arutha said, ‘This attacking through the night has some meaning I do not understand.’ He shook his head. ‘In time we will know what they plot. Leave a watch upon the walls, but have the men retire to the courtyard. It is becoming clear they prefer not to attack during the day. Order food brought from the kitchen, and water to bathe with.’ Orders were passed, and men left their posts, some sitting on the walks below the wall, too tired to trudge down the steps. Others reached the courtyard and tossed aside their weapons, sitting in the shade of the battlements while castle porters hurried among them with buckets of fresh water. Arutha leaned against the wall. He spoke silently to himself. ‘They’ll be back.’
They came again that night.
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN •
Siege
WOUNDED MEN GROANED AT SUNRISE.
For the twelfth straight night the Tsurani had assaulted the castle, only to retire at dawn. Gardan could not see any clear reason for the dangerous night attacks. As he watched the Tsurani gathering up their dead, then returning to their tents, he said, ‘They are strange. Their archers cannot fire at the walls once the ladders are up for fear of hitting their own men. We have no such problem, knowing everyone below is the enemy. I don’t understand these men.’
Arutha sat numbly washing the blood and dirt from his face, oblivious to the scene about him. He was too tired even to answer Gardan. ‘Here,’ a voice nearby said, and he pulled the damp cloth from his face to see a proffered drinking cup. He took the cup and drained it in one long pull, savoring the taste of strong wine.
Carline stood before him, wearing tunic and trousers, her sword hanging at her side. ‘What are you doing here?’ Arutha asked, fatigue making his voice sound harsh in his own ears.
Carline’s manner was brisk. ‘Someone must carry water and food. With every man on the walls all night long, who do you think is fit for duty in the morning? Not that pitiful handful of porters who are too old for fighting, that is certain.’
Arutha looked about and saw other women, ladies of the castle as well as servants and fishwives, walking among the men, who thankfully took the offered food and drink. He smiled his crooked smile. ‘How fare you?’
‘Well enough. Still, sitting in the cellar is as difficult in its own way as being on the wall, I judge. Each sound of battle that reaches us brings one or another of the ladies to tears.’ Her voice carried a tone of mild disapproval. ‘They huddle like rabbits. Oh, it is so tiresome.’ She stood quietly for a moment, then asked, ‘Have you seen Roland?’
He looked about. ‘Last night for a time.’ He covered his face in the soothing wetness of the cloth. Pulling it away after a moment, he added, ‘Or perhaps it was two nights past. I’ve lost track.’ He pointed toward the wall nearest the keep. ‘He should be over there somewhere. I put him in charge of the off watch. He is responsible for guarding against a flank attack.’
Carline smiled. She knew Roland would be chafing to get into the fight, but with his responsibilities it would be unlikely unless the Tsurani attacked on all sides. ‘Thank you, Arutha.’
Arutha feigned ignorance. ‘For what?’
She kneeled and kissed his wet cheek. ‘For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.’ She stood and walked away.
Roland walked along the battlements, watching the distant forest beyond the broad clearing that ran along the eastern wall of the castle. He approached a guard standing next to an alarm bell and said, ‘Anything?’
‘Nothing, Squire.’
Roland nodded. ‘Keep a watchful eye. This is the narrowest open area before the wall. If they come against a second flank, this is where I would expect the assault.’
The soldier said, ‘In truth, Squire. Why do they come only against one wall, and why the strongest?’
Roland shrugged. ‘I don’t pretend to know. Perhaps to show contempt, or bravery. Or for some alien reason.’
The guard came to attention and saluted. Carline had come silently up behind them. Roland took her by the arm and hurried her along. ‘What do you think you’re doing up here?’ he said in ungentle tones.
Her look of relief at finding him alive and unhurt turned to one of anger. ‘I came to see if you were all right,’ she said defiantly.
Guiding