of marque from Great Kesh, given by the governor of Durbin.’
Arutha laughed. ‘Of course! And everyone knows there is no finer, more law-abiding group upon the high seas than the captains of the Durbin coast.’
Amos shrugged. ‘They tend to be a crusty lot, it’s true. And they sometimes make free with the concept of free passage on the high seas, but we prefer the term privateer.’
Horns blew and drums beat, and with shrieking war cries the Tsurani came. The defenders waited, then as the attacking host crossed the invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s war engines, death rained down upon the Tsurani. Still they came.
The Tsurani crossed the second invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s bowmen, and scores more died. Still they came.
The attackers reached the walls, and defenders dropped stones and pushed over scaling ladders, dealing out death to those below. Still they came.
Arutha quickly ordered a redeployment of his reserves, directing them to be ready near the points of heaviest attack. Men hurried to carry out his orders.
Standing atop the west wall, in the thick of the fight, Arutha answered attack with attack, repulsing warrior after warrior as they reached the top of the wall. Even in the midst of battle, Arutha was aware of the scene around him, shouting orders, hearing replies, catching glimpses of what others were doing. He saw Amos Trask, disarmed, strike a Tsurani full in the face with his fist, knocking the man from the wall. Trask then carefully bent down and picked up his cutlass as if he had simply dropped it while strolling along the wall. Gardan moved among the men, exhorting the defenders, bolstering sagging spirits, and driving the men beyond the point where they would normally have given in to exhaustion.
Arutha helped two soldiers push away another scaling ladder, then stared in momentary confusion as one of the men slowly turned and sat at his feet, surprise on his face as he looked down at the Tsurani bowshaft in his chest. The man leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as if deciding to sleep for a time.
Arutha heard someone shout his name. Gardan stood a few feet away, pointing to the north section of the west wall. ‘They’ve crested the wall!’
Arutha ran past Gardan, shouting, ‘Order the reserves to follow!’ He raced along the wall until he reached the breach in the defenses. A dozen Tsurani held each end of a section of the wall, pushing forward to clear room for their comrades to follow. Arutha hurled himself into the front rank, past weary and surprised guards who were being forced back along the battlement. Arutha thrust over the first Tsurani shield, taking the man in the throat. The Tsurani’s face registered shock, then he keeled over and fell into the courtyard below. Arutha attacked the man next to the first and shouted, ‘For Crydee! For the Kingdom!’
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
