Part 48 (2/2)

A door crashed open and more guards poured out.

”They're coming!” Kath tensed, tightening her grip on her sword and s.h.i.+eld.

A troop of guards raced towards her, their weapons bared.

Behind her, the ma.s.sive beam crashed to the cobblestones. The gates creaked open.

”They're coming!” And then the fight was upon her. She parried the nearest sword thrust. Steel clanged met with a fearsome clash. The brutal blow shuddered down her sword arm. Kath pivoted away, slas.h.i.+ng toward her opponent's knees. A second sword flashed towards her neck. Spying the blow from the corner of her eye, she pulled away at the last moment. Sweat erupted beneath her chainmail. Badly outnumbered, she lurched backward, keeping her s.h.i.+eld raised, too many to fight. Slash and turn, she gave ground, trying to blunt their attack.

And then the others came. With a wild howl, her painted warriors poured through the open gate. They roared into the guards, pus.h.i.+ng them back, leaving a trail of death in their wake.

The battle swept past Kath. Sheathing her sword, she ran to nearest torch. Wresting it from its bracket, she leaped towards the gate. Standing in the open mouth, she waved the torch back and forth, once, twice, thrice.

A howl erupted from the steppes. Her army was coming. Tossing the torch aside, she unsheathed her sword and ran to join the others. ”For Castlegard and the Light!” She raced up the cobblestone street, torchlight glinting on arms and armor. The battle for the Dark Citadel was begun.

62.

Katherine The night became a confusion of swords, a running battle fought in the streets. The cobblestones ran slick with gore. Kath fought in the vanguard, struggling to push the guards up hill. One step at a time, they claimed the street, a b.l.o.o.d.y clash of steel.

A sword stroke rushed towards her face. Kath took the blow on her s.h.i.+eld and then lunged forward. Her sword found an opening, severing a guard's hand. Another guard leaped to take his place. All around her, swords rang to a furious beat. Men in sheepskins battled men in armor. Her rag-tag band of painted warriors fought like demons, pus.h.i.+ng the soldiers back, their fury defeating discipline. But Kath knew fury was fleeting. She urged her warriors forward, desperate to break the guards.

Beside her, a painted warrior slumped to the cobblestones, a feathered bolt lodged in his back. More bolts rained down. The street became a deathtrap. ”Push them back!” She redoubled her effort. They needed to get away from the gate.

Feathered bolts hissed among them. More warriors fell. Some clutched arms and legs but there was no time for the wounded. Once begun, the battle was to the death.

The fighting was fierce, a desperate struggle on both sides. Men yelled and screamed. Wounded crawled away, trailing slicks of blood. Horns blared, adding to the confusion. Kath screamed her battle cry, ”For the Light!” Bear and Boar fought beside her, a sword on her right a spiked mace on her left. The big men dodged in front, taking a blow aimed at Kath. Fighting like lions, they forced the guards to give ground, but not fast enough. Crossbow bolts hissed from the wall, bleeding their ranks from behind.

Somehow Blaine found her. Screaming his battle cry, ”For the Octagon!” he pushed his way to the front, cleaving a path through the enemy. His blue sword cut like a scythe, driving the enemy back, but still the guards did not break.

Footsteps thundered from behind. Painted warriors poured through the gates, joining the fray, their tattooed faces savage in the torchlight. Like a relentless tide they pounded up the street, adding their numbers to the vanguard, a battering ram pus.h.i.+ng from behind. The line surged forward, trampling the wounded. The guards gave ground...and then they broke and ran.

”For the Light!” Kath led the charge.

Her painted warriors gave chase, howling like banshees.

The cobblestone street curved upward, taking them beyond the reach of the deadly crossbows. Houses crowded close, creating a canyon of stone. Doors slammed shut all along the street. Grim faces peered from half-shuttered windows. The people of the citadel neither hindered nor helped. A smoldering rage erupted in Kath. She longed to drag the watchers from their homes and convince them to fight, but she dared not stop. The tides of battle were fickle. The advantage had swung to her side and she needed to ride the wave all the way to the top.

Someone howled like a wolf and the others took up the cry, as if a rabid pack stalked the citadel. Stone walls echoed the sound, multiplying their numbers. Tattooed faces leered in the torchlight, hungry for vengeance.

Their savagery had the intended effect. All resistance melted away.

The guards fled, disappearing into side alleyways. Kath kept her men together, refusing to be lured into rabbit warrens. Weapons held at the ready, they pounded up the main street, a relentless army of savage-faced warriors grinding their way toward the top.

The street curved around a bend, spilling into a second courtyard. Another gate blocked the way, a gleam of armored soldiers on the ramparts. But the torchlight revealed an obstacle of a different sort. Brown-robed citizens clogged the courtyard. A frightened mob pounded on the gates, demanding sanctuary. A black-robed priest stood atop the barbican, exhorting the people to fight. ”Stay within your tier! Protect your homes! Take up arms and fight! Kill the invaders and your reward shall be great!”

Kath's army slowed to a crawl, crowding the mob from behind. She leaned toward Bear. ”Can you reach the priest with your sling?”

”Yes.”

”Then wait for my word.” Kath raised her voice to the crowd. ”Why do you listen to the priests, when they are your true enemy?”

The crowd milled in confusion, frightened faces staring back at her.

”We've come to save you not to fight you! Join us! Kill the priests and take the citadel!”

The priest's face twisted into a mask of rage. ”Kill the invaders!”

Kath hissed, ”Now!”

Bear's sling whirled.

Crossbow bolts hissed from the walls, striking warriors and citizens alike. Kath took a bolt on her s.h.i.+eld, staggering under the blow. A woman shrieked and children wept. Screams erupted through the courtyard, a ma.s.sacre in the making.

Bear's aim struck true.

The priest tumbled from the wall, a flutter of dark robes landing on the cobblestones. The mob surged forward, attacking the priest and the gate.

More sling stones whirled through the air, striking the guards atop the wall.

Crossbows answered with a rain of death.

The courtyard became a deathtrap. Kath had to break the stalemate. Choosing a handful of warriors, she led them into a side alley. ”We need to open the gate!” Left and then right, she made her way toward the wall. Bear and Blaine kept pace at her side. She gripped their arms, and they ran for the wall. ”Don't stop!”

They leaped into stone. Darkness clawed at Kath but she barreled forward, never breaking stride. The inner walls were not as thick as the outer. They stumbled into air...and found themselves in a bedroom. A woman shrieked, clutching sheets pulled to her chin. Beside her, a naked man bl.u.s.tered.

”We mean you no harm.” Kath made for the doorway, Bear and Blaine pounding behind. They tumbled through a kitchen and then another door, before reaching the street.

The sounds of battle drew them toward the gate.

Torches lined the barbican, a halo of light against the crenelated battlement. Soldiers crowded the walls, but they stared the other way, loosing bolts at the mob. Only four guards barred their path to the gates.

Surprise was their best ally. Quiet as death, they raced toward the gate. Kath hurled her twin axes at the nearest guards. Blaine leaped forward, his blue sword held high. One guard fell, an axe embedded in his throat. Another staggered backward, taking an axe in his shoulder. Before they could raise an alarm, Blaine reached the two remaining guards, attacking with a head-high swing. Blue steel keened a deadly whistle, cleaving straight through flesh and bone, taking two heads with a single blow. Bear dispatched the wounded guard and Kath retrieved her axes. ”Hurry!”

The two men ran to the gate while Kath stood guard. Putting shoulders to the crossbar, they struggled to lift the ma.s.sive log.

”Hurry!”

Groaning, they heaved the log from the braces. The ma.s.sive beam crashed to the cobblestones and the gates creaked open. Shouts rang from the barbican but it was too late to stem the tide.

Kath and the two men retreated back up the street. Ducking into a side alley, they crouched in the dark.

The gates swung wide and the mob poured through.

Peering from the alley, Kath studied the people they'd come to save. Small and slight, they seemed stunted and malformed. Dirty and dressed in drab rags, they looked like a pack of starving urchins, yet the rage on their faces was fearsome to behold. Fists raised, the mob raced up the street, howling like a pack of harpies loosed from h.e.l.l. One carried a spear impaled with the priest's severed head. The grisly trophy waved back and forth like a battle banner, spattering the crowd with blood. The mob cheered, seething with hate. Kath wondered what type of whirlwind she'd unleashed.

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