Days Of Light And Shadow (70 page)

“By the Mother!” It was that simple. The moment she understood the enemy she knew the answer. And she knew that the others would never believe her. They would think her crazed. And even if they did believe her, they would never let her do it.

Sophelia took a deep breath, drew herself up to her full height, which was still barely at the shoulders of everyone else, and bellowed her orders across to the ramparts.

“Master Formain, stop the cannon. From here on it is crossbows only. The only cannon that will fire will be the two big ones by the main gate. And they will fire one by one.”

“De’ Tan -.” He wanted to argue, puffing out his chest and looking to be about to shout from the rampart, but she wouldn’t let him.

“You have your orders dwarf. Now obey them.” She turned to Juna, a man who was also looking at her as if she had breathed deeply of the moon mist.

“With me to the gate. And see that someone can find a long rope with a noose and bring it to us.” He too looked like he wanted to object, his mouth opening, his eyes wide, but she gave him no chance.

“Now!” Before he could utter a single word she took off down the stairs of the watch tower, unutterably glad to be going down instead of up. Pregnancy and stairs did not go well together.

“My Lady!” By the time Juna had managed to say anything, she was already down the first flight of stairs, and out of his sight, and that was as much as he managed to get out before she heard his feet on the stairs behind her.

After that it was a race, albeit a slow one between a pregnant woman and a pot bellied old man. But the advantage was hers. She made the ground well ahead of him and was half way to the stairs to the gate house by the time his feet had touched the clay. And he wasn’t helped by having to call to the soldiers to bring her the rope as he ran. By the time he made the gatehouse and could look down over the gate, the rope was already being tied in to a noose, and she was explaining what she wanted to the soldiers there. They didn’t look any more convinced than the dwarf.

“My lady!” Juna was out of breath when he finally made it up the stairs, and all he could see was the rope and the noose being tied. He surely had some dark thoughts running through his head at the sight.

“Good. You made it.” She turned back to the cannoneers. “Now remember, use the eight footers one at a time. Left and right, left and right. And choose your targets carefully. We don’t have the powder to waste. Bows will have to take care of any that get through. So your best archers and head shots only.”

She turned to the soldiers who were standing there looking worried. “Is it ready?” It was. They nodded and showed her the waiting noose

“Praise the Mother.” She stuffed the linen scraps into her ears, grabbed the rope from them, put her right foot into the noose and then stepped out on to the top of the wall above the gate.

“Now lower me down and stand ready. Remember you may need to pull me back up quickly.” Sophelia didn’t give them any time to argue as she threw the end of the rope to the nearest of them, and when he caught it she started edging off the side of the wall. After that it was too late, and her weight on the rope started pulling him forwards. He held on tightly of course, and slowly she found herself being lowered to the ground just in front of the gate.

It was only twenty feet, but it was one of the longest journeys she had ever made.

On the ground she stepped out of the noose and looked back at the portcullis behind her, and then up at the line of worried faces above her. And it was actually quite reassuring to see that they were worried, though Juna really looked more horrified. He hadn’t had a chance to hear her plan.

“Thank you. Now stick to the plan.”

Sophelia stepped out in to the open, maybe three or four paces away from the safety of the rope and stared out at the great green expanse of grass dotted with figures. And for the first time as she set eyes on them she wondered for a brief moment if she truly had been breathing the mist of the moon maiden. There was absolutely nothing between her and them save distance, and her life line was a rope held by people who didn’t like elves. She turned to look back at it. It seemed so very flimsy.

But still there was a job to do. There was a reason she had embarked upon this madness. She took a deep breath, turned to face the enemy, and started waving her arms about and shouting.

“Hello there. Look at me. Pregnant elf. Can’t run very fast.” Did it matter what she said? It sounded so stupid to her. But somehow she doubted they understood. What they did understand was that she was alive and moving around, and making noise. Like cats they were mesmerised, understanding nothing but the mouse in front of them.

From the very first words out of her mouth she saw them turning to face her for at least a thousand paces. All of them. And then they started shambling for her as fast as they could. At least the first part of her plan was working she realised. She’d attracted their attention. Somehow that didn’t seem like a good thing in terms of her personal safety.

Still she kept doing it, trying to bring more and more of them to her. And in to the cannon’s field of fire.

It seemed to work. The more she shouted, the more they rushed to her, and the closer they got to her, the closer they bunched together. Like hunting dogs, they naturally formed a pack.

Then the nearest of them crossed into the range of the eight footer. She saw him pass the seven hundred pace marker that had been placed into the ground to range their shots, and knew a thrill of fear. But they were still too spread out. They had to get closer.

“Hold.” She shouted up to the soldiers, hoping they would still take orders from her. If they ever really had. Somewhere among them she could hear the guttural sounds of the dwarf and she knew he would never allow himself to be ordered around by an elf. But he understood the plan, and he would also know what was needed.

Six hundred paces. They shambled past the marker, forty or fifty of them at least, and she could see her plan working. But she could also hear their screeching, and her blood chilled. That was not a sound to be made by either man nor animal. It was something else. Something much worse. She so wished she had her longbow with her. While she was not an expert marksman just the feel of its wood in her hands would have been a comfort. No doubt it was packed away in a trunk somewhere.

Leggings and a fast riding horse would have been welcome too. Sophelia felt distinctly vulnerable in her long dress. It might be expected of a lady of the court to wear the finery, but when death was in the offing, it didn’t seem right. She wanted something comfortable.

Five hundred paces, and the first bunch had formed up into a pack. Just a perfect target. But already a second group was gathering behind them and she knew that was dangerous.

“Left cannon only. Take aim.” She yelled it out as loudly as she could and even pointed to her left. If she sounded worried it was because she was. It was the only way the plan could work. Each cannon to fire while the other was reloaded. She only hoped the soldiers understood that. That they didn’t both fire at the leading bunch and let the other through.

“Ready!” Someone from behind her yelled out and she didn’t have to think twice about her next cry.

“Fire!” She dropped her left arm quickly and the world exploded all around her. It was as though the demons of the underworld had all shouted at once. It felt as though the volcanoes had opened up beneath her. It was that and still so much more that she couldn’t even have imagined it. Fire spat past her, smoke and flame billowing out like a dragon’s breath, and the rush of the wind sent her long dress flapping. The thunder was so loud even through the rags she’d stuffed in her ears, that for a moment she worried she’d gone deaf. She could feel the roar in her stomach, like the baby kicking. She could feel it in her feet as it shook the ground.

And none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the enemy. And  Before the smoke had taken her sight away, she’d seen them go down. The entire group, cut down like sheaths of wheat before a farmer’s scythe. Most of them she knew would not get back up. Not when the blast had torn right through them. Ripped them apart in one enormous fountain of black blood and body parts.

Still she was nervous as she waited for the smoke to clear. More than nervous. Being blind while there were abominations somewhere out there was not easy on the nerves. The soldiers though were shouting and screaming with joy on the walls behind her. But then they were higher up than her. They could see what the cannon had done. They could see the enemy lying in pieces. She hoped.

When the smoke finally did clear she could see that the first group had been cut down, broken. She would have said killed save that she wasn’t sure they had been alive to begin with. A few, a very few, were still standing with body parts missing. Injuries that would have killed any normal man. Others on the ground were writhing, trying to get up but unable. They should be dead, but they somehow refused to die.  Most however weren’t even bodies. They were less than that. They were scraps of meat scattered over the green grass. And those scraps, well, they didn’t move at all.

It seemed that if you tore them into small enough pieces even abominations could be killed.

The next bunch however were hurrying towards her regardless. They cared nothing for their fallen comrades. They knew nothing of fear. They didn’t have the slightest knowledge that they were walking to their deaths. Or if they did they didn’t care. They knew only hunger and the delicious elf not that far away. They had already passed the six hundred pace mark. A long way off, but still too close.

“Left cannon reload. Right cannon take aim.” She had to shout to make herself heard over the shouting from the soldiers behind her. They’d started celebrating early and apparently weren’t stopping.

She gave the orders as before, hoping against hope that it would go perfectly, and that the first cannon would be reloaded by the time the next group came within range. They were already forming up. And behind them she could see an almost endless stream of abominations heading her way. Still cresting the distant hill. She didn’t have to attract their attention any more. They were hunting her.

“Fire!” She dropped her right arm, and the world exploded all over again. The thunder and fire when the right cannon spoke was actually almost louder than the first, impossible as that seemed, and she thought the fire actually shot twice as far beyond her. She must have been standing a little closer to its mouth, or else they’d used more powder. But the result was the same. They abominations crossed the five hundred pace mark and when the smoke finally cleared, only a few were still standing.

But a few was still a few too many. She realised that when she saw three badly wounded enemy from the first group still trying to reach her, and getting closer. Much closer. They were within three hundred paces and moving quickly despite their awkward gait. Frighteningly quickly. Sophelia risked a quick peek back at the waiting rope behind her and tried to guess how long it would take her to reach it. There was still time. But there was another option. The one that she had to take.

“Archer’s head shots!” Was her voice slightly higher pitched than normal? Probably.

The moment the words left her mouth she watched three arrows find the abominations’ heads, and they finally fell down. Even the one that was hopping on one leg. Arrows, not bolts. That caught her by surprise. But a welcome surprise. They were still out of range for the crossbows. But then she realised that there were only a few who could make that shot. And when her hearing returned a little more, she knew that there was only one woman in the world who could wail at her like that.

Nervously she turned back to see her family standing on the wall, longbows in hand, and they did not look happy. Her father looked even less happy than the others, his face like thunder.

“Daughter, we are going to speak of this later.” Beside him her mother was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks despite the fact that she was still alive, her sisters much the same, and Herodan was standing there white faced, concentrating on the enemy as he held his bow straight, an arrow notched. That was a good sight to see. Of all of them he was the finest shot.

Sophelia turned back to face the enemy somewhat relieved, and for the first time wondering if they were really such a terrible danger compared to her father.