The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory (26 page)

Godfrey
did as he was told, hurrying over and taking up a position, kneeling down with
shaking hands as he took an arrow from the quiver and loaded the bow. He was so
nervous that he, fumbling, dropped the quiver, and his arrows all spilled out.

But
then he regained himself, loaded an arrow, and stuck his head up for a moment
over the stone wall. An arrow sailed by, just missing it, and he knelt back
down, trembling.

“I
told you to stay down!” Kendrick yelled.

“I’m
sorry,” Godfrey said. He looked as if he were about to cry.

"Don't
give into your fear," Kendrick commanded. "Take a deep breath. Stay
low to the ground, always.”

Godfrey
shut his eyes and breathed deeply, several times.

“ARCHERS!”
Kendrick yelled. “FIRE!”

Godfrey
opened his eyes, took aim through a slit in the wall, pulled the bow back with
shaking hands, and fired. He watched through the slit in the wall.

His
face fell as he realized that he missed.

But he
placed another arrow on the bow, his hands a bit more steady this time, and
took a knee, took careful aim, and fired.

"I
got him!" he screamed in triumph. "I can't believe it! I really got
him!”

Gwen was
thrilled to see Godfrey out of the alehouse, fighting by their side. She was so
proud of him.

On her
other side, not far off, was her new brother-in-law, Bronson, who had been
fighting nobly with the others, even with one hand, finding a way to fire arrow
after arrow at Andronicus' men, and taking out many of them. Luanda was
somewhere tucked safely inside the lower city, which she expected her to be.

All
that was missing, she pained to think, was Thor.

Suddenly
there came an unfamiliar noise, a loud creaking, and Gwen craned her neck and peeked
through the slits of the stone wall to see what it was. Her heart fell.

Scores
of Empire soldiers parted ways to make way as dozens of men pushed forward carts
in the mud, on top of which were piled tall, wooden ladders. There must have
been a hundred of them, and they heaved the carts closer and closer to the
outer wall.

"TORCHES!”
Kendrick screamed.

All up
and down the parapets, soldiers and their attendants lit their torches.

“WAIT!”
Kendrick screamed.

They
all waited, the groaning of carts growing louder, Gwen's heart pounding, as the
slew of ladders came ever closer. They were just a few feet away, and every
impulse in her screamed out for the soldiers to employ the torches. But she deferred
to Kendrick, allowing him, a veteran of battle, to command his men.

She
waited and waited, watching the ladders lean up against her wall, sweat forming
on her brow.

"NOW!"
Kendrick finally screamed.

The
Silesians rose up with a great shout, leaned over, and lit the ladders. One by
one, the wooden ladders began to burn.

But
not all the Silesians were successful: several of them, as they stood, were
shot through the chest and eyes and throat with arrows; others were killed by spears
and javelins. Gwen watched in horror as dozens of her men toppled over the
edge, hurling down in a chorus of screams.

Many ladders
were on fire—but many had also made it to the walls, already filled with Empire
soldiers scrambling up like mad.

The Silesians
broke into action, led by Kendrick, as he ran to the nearest ladder, raised his
axe and swung, chopping it and sending it crumbling to the ground.

But
Kendrick paid dearly for it: he shouted out in pain as an arrow pierced his
bicep, blood squirting everywhere. He reached over and yanked it out, with
another great scream.

His
attendant was not so lucky; an arrow pierced him through the throat, and he
collapsed to the ground, dead.

Soldiers
up and down the parapets ran for the ever-increasing number of ladders, trying
to fend them off. Godfrey, to his credit, stood and ran for one, screaming in
his first battle cry; he seemed as if he had overcome something within him. As
he approached, an Empire soldier was just reaching the top, about to climb over
the stone wall, when Godfrey charged and ran his spear right through him.

The
Empire soldier shrieked, staring blankly Godfrey, who stared back, equally
shocked; he hesitated for a moment, then began to fall backwards. But before he
did, he reached out and grabbed Godfrey by the shirt and yanked him back with
him.

Godfrey
screamed as he went rushing towards the edge. He reached out at the last second
and grabbed the stone, bracing himself before he went over. He was struggling
with all he had, but his grip was slipping. Gwendolyn saw that he was about to
die.

Gwendolyn,
without thinking, rushed into action. She sprinted forward, grabbed a forgotten
sword from the ground, its hilt bloody, and right before her brother lost his
grip, she rushed forward, raised the sword and chopped off the soldier’s hand
which was grabbing Godfrey.

The
soldier, screaming, fell backwards down the ladder, taking several men with
him. Godfrey stumbled backwards, free from the grip, and looked over at Gwen
wide-eyed, in shock.

“The
ladder!” she screamed.

She
ran forward and grabbed one end of the ladder, and he snapped out of it and grabbed
the other. Steffen, right behind her, came up in the middle. Together, the
three of them heaved and pushed the ladder off the wall, sending it crashing down
to the ground.

But
there were too many ladders and not enough men to be everywhere at once; the
first bunch of Empire soldiers jumped over the parapets, and soon, the parapets
were filled with them. Gwendolyn's heart pounded as she saw men running towards
her from all sides.

“SWORDS!”
Srog screamed out to his men.

Hand-to-hand
fighting broke out all around her, preoccupying her men and forcing them to
abandon attacking the soldiers below. This left the Empire men freed up to
concentrate once again on ramming the iron gates of the outer defenses; again
and again, the battering ram shook the walls, with enough force to make Gwen
and the others stumble.

The gates
were riddled with huge dents, and beginning to buckle.

“My
lady, we have to get you inside, to safety!” Steffen yelled, frantic.

But
Gwendolyn did not want to leave her men; she was about to look over the wall,
to assess the damage being done to the gates, when suddenly an Empire soldier
jumped over the railing beside her, reached over and backhanded her, sending
her flying backwards. Gwen’s world filled with pain as she reeled from the
sting of the blow on her face, shocking her.

The
soldier then pounced on her; Gwendolyn rolled out of the way at the last
second, as the soldier went to punch her and just missed, punching stone. She drew
a dagger from her belt, spun around, and thrust it into the back of the
soldiers neck. His body went limp.

Gwen
felt numb; she could scarcely believe she had just killed a man. It made her
sick. Inside, she was shaking.

But
she had no time to consider it: another soldier approached and swung his sword
down right for Gwendolyn's face. She had no time to react; she braced herself,
raising her hands for imminent death.

At the
last second there came a great clang; she opened her eyes to see Steffen beside
her, blocking the blow with his sword, only a few inches to spare, struggling
mightily to keep it from her. Gwendolyn rolled out of the way, grabbed a loose
shield, spun around and smashed the soldier in the side of the head. Steffen
then kicked him, leapt to his feet, and stabbed the man in the throat.

Gwen
turned and saw a soldier raise a spear and bring it down for Steffen's back. She
dove forward and pushed Steffen out of the way, saving him, then watched in
horror, helpless, as the spear came down for her instead.

There
came the sound of cutting wood, and Gwen looked up to see Godfrey standing over
her, sword in hand, having just slashed the attacker’s spear before it could
reach her.

Godfrey
stood there, looking amazed at what he had just done. The soldier turned to
him, drew a short sword, and was about to stab him. Godfrey stood there, dazed,
not quick enough to react.

Before
the soldier could complete his attack, he screamed out and stumbled forward;
behind him stood Kendrick, who had just pierced him in the back with a spear.

Steffen
turned, realizing what had just happened, and looked at Gwendolyn.

"Now
I owe
you,
my lady.”

There
came another great crash, the walls shaking, louder than any she had heard—followed
by a huge cheer amongst the Empire.

Gwendolyn
looked down to see, with terror, that the outer gate had been breached. So
soon, despite all their defenses, it had given way.

Hundreds
and hundreds of Empire soldiers were dead—but it hadn’t even put a dent in
their forces. She looked out at the horizon and saw the hordes of the world before
them—and more pouring in every second. Below them, with a shout, dozens of Empire
soldiers began to rush through the gates.

"Retreat
to the inner wall!" Gwen screamed.

Her
orders were repeated up and down the ranks, and her men retreated across the narrow
wooden skywalks, fifty feet in the air, to the inner wall.

As they
all reached the inner wall, they turned, and as instructed, smashed the wooden skywalks
behind them, causing all the Empire soldiers pursuing them to fall crashing down
to their deaths below. The Empire soldiers who had managed to climb the walls
were now stranded on the first row of parapets, unable to pursue. They were
stuck. It had worked, exactly as they had practiced.

Down
below, Empire soldiers were pouring through, rushing for the inner gate, the
city’s final line of defense. But in their haste they didn’t look carefully
enough at the ground; if they had, they would have seen that it was a trap, a
false covering, beneath which was a moat filled with water.

They all
fell and splashed down, into the water, flailing.

Yet
even this couldn’t stop them: more and more Empire soldiers, driven
relentlessly, forward, poured in, stepping mercilessly on the heads of their
fellow soldiers in the water, crushing them and drowning them beneath the
water, and not caring. Unlike most commanders, Andronicus wouldn’t stop to take
the time to build a bridge: he would use his own human sacrifice to build his
bridge.

Unfortunately,
it began to work. The bodies created a human bridge that the rest of the
soldiers could run across.

“ARCHERS!”
Kendrick screamed.

Dozens
of Silesians prepared their bows with arrows, lit by their attendants. Gwen
looked down at the slick film of oil they had prepared on the waters, and
prayed that this worked.

“FIRE!”
Kendrick screamed.

They shot
the flaming arrows into the waters and as they did a great flame spread across
the surface of the water. Shrieking arose, along with the awful smell of
burning flesh, as the men below were burned alive.

There appeared
to be at least a thousand men dead, piled up between the walls. It would have
been enough to stop any other army, to end any other siege.

But
this was not any other army.

Andronicus’s
men were limitless, and were as indispensable as dogs. Unbelievingly, more and
more men poured in. They kept charging, with no regard for their own lives,
right into the flames, right past the burning bodies.

When
these men died, even more men charged.

The
soldiers bodies put out the flames, and soon there was no other way to stop
them. Gwendolyn’s men fired down everything they had left. But as another hour
went by, they depleted almost all of their munitions.

And
still, Andronicus's men kept coming.

The Empire
finally rolled forward another battering ram, right over their own bodies, and with
a great heave, they smashed it against the inner iron gate.

The
entire wall shook, and Gwendolyn stumbled and fell. Beneath her, the gate was already
halfway off its hinges.

Before
Gwen and her men could regroup, the ram smashed it again—and with a great
crash, it smashed open the inner gate.

A
cheer arose among Andronicus' men, as moments later, they all came pouring into
the inner court.

Gwen
and her men exchanged a horrified glance. His men were inside.

Now,
there was nothing left to stop them.

Thor
walked hand-in-hand with the woman in white robes, being led across the small
island, trance-like. Beside him, his Legion brothers were led by others. They
passed through a low, arched doorway and into a round, white building in the
center of the island, and as Thor came out the other side, he was in a
circular, open-air courtyard, covered in grass, and planted with an exotic
fruit orchard. He tried to process what was going on, but he was not in his
right mind. He wanted to resist, but as the woman led him, he was helpless at
her touch, at the feel of her skin, the smell of her hair. It was intoxicating.