Authors: Sam Barone
Esk kar started to protest, but Gatus cut him off.
“Save your breath. They have their orders, which are to keep you alive.
So don’t bother trying to order them away, and don’t try to take any foolish risks. They won’t allow it.” He started walking, not waiting for an argument.
Esk kar shook his head and strode after him. Esk kar saw few people in the normally crowded lanes, most of whom called out nervous greetings. At the main gate, the last of the dwellings behind the structure had been torn down, leaving a clear space roughly fifty paces in length. That opening narrowed as it followed the wall in each direction, but there were always at least twenty paces from the wall to the nearest building, so men and equipment could move easily from point to point.
He stared up at the gate. Four great timbers braced it, two to each side, resting in holes dug deep into the earth and reinforced with rock. Across the top, small wooden troughs ran the length of the opening, already filled with water. A catwalk extended underneath the troughs, so men could tip the contents over the top of the gate to put out fires.
This top platform could also hold a dozen archers who’d be able to shoot through slits carved into the gate. Another platform, wider and stouter, hung just below it, with more slits for the defenders. The structure’s outer surface, hardened by fire, would be slow to reignite, but Esk kar knew there was nothing wooden that couldn’t be made to burn. A gang of women waited nearby, ready to replenish the troughs with buckets of water as needed throughout the day.
On each side rose a square tower, ugly in its unfinished rock and mud bricks, but rising above both wall and gate, allowing the archers to fire down at anyone directly below.
Corio’s oldest son, Alcinor, saw Esk kar’s party approach and waved.
That triggered a massive shout as the villagers and soldiers recognized him. Esk kar decided his venture across the river must have worried Orak’s inhabitants. His return, added to the reports of another victory, gave the crowd something to rejoice about.
It felt strange to be cheered simply because he was seen. He still didn’t know what to do about it.
“Captain, it’s good to see you back in Orak,” Alcinor said with a smile and a bow, “and congratulations. We hear you killed all the barbarians with great ease.”
Esk kar grimaced at the soldiers who couldn’t keep from bragging of their victory. Now everyone would expect an easy defeat of the barbarians. “Greetings, Alcinor.” He kept his voice cold and hard. “And don’t speak of easy conquests. There will be none from the Alur Meriki.”
Alcinor’s smiled vanished at Esk kar’s tone and the young man’s eyes widened in fear. “I’m sorry … I meant no disrespect … I …”
“Enough, Alcinor. I know what you meant. Is everything here as you planned?” Curse the gods, he hadn’t meant to frighten the man out of his wits.
Alcinor tried to recover from his embarrassment. “Umm … yes, of course. We’ve prepared everything as Sisuthros ordered. We have …”
“You’ve done well, then,” Esk kar interrupted, trying to undo the effect of his harsh words. “Your gate will be one of the main points of attack, so you must help the soldiers keep the gate secure. If you need anything …”
Sisuthros called to them from atop the left tower. “Captain, there’s movement on the hillside.”
Esk kar and his guards filed quickly into the tower, treading carefully on the dark, narrow steps that followed the walls as they ascended to the top. Bantor came over from the other tower to join them. The soldiers stationed there stepped back so their leaders could see better.
The sight made Esk kar grunt in annoyance. The barbarians surveyed the village and its defenses from the same hilltop where, months before, he’d fi rst considered defending Orak. From there they could see much of the village and the surrounding lands, now flooded, except for the main approach.
“There were only ten or twelve horsemen there until a few moments ago,” Sisuthros informed him. “Now I see standards there.”
Esk kar counted as quickly as he could, using his fingers to keep track, his lips moving slightly. “At least forty now, and with three clan chiefs.”
The extra - long lances that bore the Alur Meriki symbols also carried each clan leader’s emblem. The distance was too great to distinguish details, but the standards stood out clear enough. “Another raiding party has joined with the two war parties from the south,” he commented, then cursed himself for stating the obvious.
“From the main camp,” Gatus asked, “or just another raiding party?”
“Probably the main camp,” Esk kar guessed. “But the Great Chief ‘s standard isn’t here, not yet. You’ll recognize that when you see it.”
The third chief and his men probably formed an advance party from the main force, sent ahead to meet with the others and begin planning the attack. It might mean the War Chief had arrived. Or it might mean something else.
“Curse my eyes,” Esk kar swore, “I can’t make out any detail. Can you see anything on the banners, Sisuthros?” He was younger and presumably had better eyes.
“No, nothing,” Sisuthros said. “They’ll move closer soon enough.”
“Where’s Mitrac?” Esk kar asked. “That boy has better eyes than anyone in Orak. Send for him.”
Gatus dispatched a messenger to find the archer. It took some time before Mitrac arrived, carrying his bow and breathing hard.
“Ah, Mitrac.” Esk kar grasped the boy by the shoulders and led him to the tower’s edge. “See those three banners out there? Those are the standards of a war chief. I want you to remember those three banners, because one of them is probably the fighting chief who’ll be responsible for the attack. That’s the one I want you keep looking for. If you get a shot at him, take it, but only if you think you’ve got a good chance to hit him.”
The boy nodded, his hand over his eyes as he stared at the hillside.
Esk kar tried to think about what the enemy might be thinking. Put yourself in the other man’s place. What would I see? … what would I do?
Ignoring the chatter of the men, he set himself to the task. After a moment he turned to his men.
“From where they are, they can’t see the open areas directly behind the wall. They may think the northeast section is the farthest from the center of the village, and that it will be the most difficult for our men to reach in an attack. If I were them, I’d strike at the gate, where we expect them, but push the real thrust at that corner.”
Esk kar looked at his men and waited, but no one offered any argument against it.
He shrugged. “We’ll plan for it. Sisuthros, Bantor, stay here with Mitrac and keep watch. They’ll come closer soon enough and Mitrac should be able to figure out who’s in charge. Gatus, let’s check on the rest of the wall.”
Esk kar descended from the tower and began walking quickly toward the northeast corner. Halfway there, a large group of villagers began to block his way, asking frightened questions that had no answer.
“Gatus, keep this area clear of villagers,” Esk kar ordered loudly. “Send those who don’t have duties here packing.”
He stopped about fifty paces short of the northeast corner and climbed the steps to the parapet. A cheer went up, this time from the soldiers as well as villagers. Damn the gods. He’d have to say something. He turned and faced the crowd beneath him. Fear and doubt showed plainly on every uplifted face.
“Soldiers! Villagers! In a few hours, the barbarians may launch their first attack. They will try to rush the gate, but I think they’ll attack this part of the wall as well. So ready yourselves.” He turned to Gatus. “I think Sisuthros and Bantor can handle the gate. You and I will command here.”
Esk kar looked up and down the parapet. He was about sixty paces from the corner. “This is the spot where they will hurl their attack, here and at the corner. I think everything else will be a ruse. Get the men ready. Make sure the men with the least experience are up front.”
Gatus looked surprised, and he showed no inclination to move.
“I want as many as possible to get experience, Gatus. This first attack should be the easiest to beat off. Keep some veterans in reserve at the base of the wall, ready to come up if needed. I don’t want them to know how good we are yet. I want them to keep thinking they can take the wall, if they just send enough men. Bring Maldar and half of his reserve up here as well.”
That would take men from the rear gate, but Esk kar didn’t think it likely the Alur Meriki would attack there.
Gatus nodded and hurried off, dispatching messengers as he did so.
Esk kar turned to his bodyguards. “You heard the plan. If I fall, you continue it. Now, help me pick the men.”
Everyone began moving and the activity lasted for some time. When Esk kar thought everything was in place, he stopped for a drink of water from one of the water barrels, as Totomes and Narquil, his older son, arrived with Mitrac. Jalen accompanied them and they moved to the wall’s edge to assess the situation.
Esk kar smiled at the three archers. “Good to see you again, Totomes …
Narquil. Did you learn anything at the tower?”
“Yes, another standard has joined the first three,” Totomes answered.
“They’re starting to move toward us.”
Esk kar looked out toward the east. Four Alur Meriki chieftains and about thirty warriors were riding slowly toward the village at an angle. In a few minutes they would be in front of the gate, about half a mile distant, still out of bowshot.
A mutter of excitement raced along the wall. “Keep quiet, men,” he snapped. “Remember, they’ve never seen a wall like this before, and they’re only looking. Keep your heads down and don’t show yourselves.”
The Alur Meriki probably lacked information about the number of people in Orak. Esk kar wanted them to think he had fewer fighting men than were actually available.
Jalen pointed toward the hills to the north. Esk kar saw men and horses, the hilltops dotted with curious warriors. No doubt they disobeyed their own orders to stay below the hill crests.
Meanwhile, the chieftains halted a little past the gate and resumed their discussions. Behind him Esk kar could hear the leaders of each file of ten cursing their men, who kept peeking over the wall. Esk kar didn’t even bother swearing at them. The instant you gave an order, some fool would disobey it. Soldiers never changed.
The Alur Meriki resumed their inspection, riding leisurely until they passed opposite Esk kar’s position on the wall and continuing until they reached the flooded lands. Villagers crowded against each other, despite orders to keep the wall clear. Everyone wanted to see what the barbarians looked like.
Esk
kar watched some warriors splash their horses into the newly formed swamp. The animals kicked up spray as they struggled to move through the thick mud covered with at least a foot of water. He smiled when the horses slowed to a crawl. The barbarians tested the wetlands in several places, but always with the same result. Finally they gave up and returned to dry ground, where they sat on their horses, staring down the length of the wall toward the river.
The dry land between the ditch and the flooded basin was only about thirty paces wide, about the same as the width of the ditch. Those two distances, taken together, would give them more than enough room to op-erate. Esk kar knew that they were thinking it shouldn’t be too difficult to surround the village and attack from many points at the same time.
Gatus strolled up to where Esk kar stared at the Alur Meriki. “Well, Captain, what do you think? Should we have flooded the ditch or not?” He said it seriously, without any hint of second - guessing his leader.
“It’s too late, now, Gatus. If I’m wrong, you’ll probably not get a chance to tell me so.” If the enemy came in full strength against many parts of the wall, the village might fall. Esk kar swore again, worried that he had guessed wrong about the first attack.
“Looks like a little disagreement out there,” Gatus commented, shading his eyes. “Maybe they’re already arguing over the spoils.”
One chief did look a little angry, his horse moving restlessly as its master gesticulated, at one point slapping his breast to emphasize some point.
Esk kar wondered what they could be quarrelling about, even before the first attack?
Put yourself in their place.
His mind went over the possibilities. One situation seemed likely—that the fourth standard belonged to the war chief, and that he wanted to wait before attacking. The more excited warrior probably wanted to attack at once. Esk kar couldn’t be sure, but …
if you decide something, be firm about it. Mistakes can be overcome, but
never moments of indecision.
“Where’s Mitrac? Mitrac! Come here,” Esk kar shouted. In a moment the young man approached, having followed his captain’s travels along the wall. Esk kar pointed to the chiefs. “You see that chief that’s arguing out there? Can you see who he’s arguing with? That’s the war leader, and he’s the chief you’ll go after when the time is right. Always look for him, but not in the first fight. Don’t try to kill him yet.”
Mitrac studied the distant horsemen. “Yes, Captain, I think you’re right. From the tower, we saw each of the three speak to him in turn. He says little, just seems to listen. It’s the others who talk the most. His horse is that bay, the one with the white spot on the shoulder.”
Esk kar cursed his eyesight again. He couldn’t distinguish any mark-ings on the horse, but the chief appeared to be wearing something white around his neck. “Good, good. Now, you see the one doing all the arguing?
I don’t want him killed either.”
Mitrac turned to stare into Esk kar’s eyes. “But, why … I mean … why not shoot at either of them?”
“Because the loud one is probably the war chief who’ll lead the first attack, and he wants all the glory for taking the village by himself. I think the other chief is the one in charge. He’s probably the smartest one they have, while the other is the most reckless and ambitious. For the first attack we want the reckless one in charge, not dead by some lucky arrow fired at long range. After the attack fails, then you can kill him. And after today, you try and kill the other man every chance you get. Understand?”