A Rite of Swords

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Gwendolyn stood on the upper parapets of Srog’s castle, looking out at the swirling mists of the Canyon. The fog blew in fast and furious, enveloping her legions of men below within her walls. Beyond the outer wall, she saw the legions of Tirus’ men, encamped like a plague, biding their time. She knew that when morning came, they would have a battle on their hands. Whether or not they chose to fight for their independence was not a question in her mind; now all that remained was how they chose to fight.

Beside her stood Srog, Kendrick, Brom, Atme, and all her generals, along with Godfrey, Reece, and several Silver, the small entourage walking the parapets together, looking out with her. They were all in preparation mode now, their battle faces on. Gwendolyn’s stomach turned. She was not afraid of battle; what bothered her was the idea of killing her own people, especially when so many of Andronicus’ men were still left within the Ring. After all, the other MacGils, however detestable, were people of her own blood, cousins she had once been friends with. At a time like this, they should all be sticking together.

But what choice did she have? They had forced her hand, and now it was live free or die. And freedom and honor were more important to her—and to all of them—than life.

As Gwendolyn looked down, she noticed a commotion inside the gate: a group of her attendants seemed to be arguing with a newly-arrived visitor. As she leaned over the edge and looked closely, she did a double-take. She recognized the man getting off the horse: he was short, with a twisted back, and carried an oversized bow. She knew that figure anywhere.

It couldn’t be. Had Steffen made it back to Silesia? Or was her mind playing tricks on her?

Suddenly there came a commotion at the entrance to the parapets, and Gwen turned to see her chief attendant rushing for her.

“My lady,” he said, agitated, sweating, “there is a commotion at the gate. We have a newcomer who claims he knows you; of course, given his appearance I assume it is a lie, and we are preparing to take him to the dungeons.”

Gwendolyn’s face flushed with embarrassment. She looked down and watched Steffen being led away from the main castle, toward the dungeon. She could see the look of shock and shame in his face.

“Bring him to me at once,” she commanded firmly.

Her chief attendant’s eyes opened wide in surprise, “You know him, my lady?”

“As well as I know myself. His name is Steffen, and you are to treat him with the highest honor and respect. If it were not for him, I would be dead today. He is my right hand, and he shall be afforded every privilege this kingdom has to offer. Go to him at once!” she said, her voice rising.

His eyes opened wide in surprise and he bowed and turn and ran back inside.

Gwen heard his footsteps echo and knew from the fear in his eyes that he would obey her orders right away.

She looked below and watched him run across the courtyard, to the group of servants, saw him stop them all, and watched as they looked at him in confusion, then fear. They bowed towards Steffen apologetically, and she watched with satisfaction as Steffen stood up a little straighter. He was led to the castle.

Moments later Steffen appeared at the roof, and without pausing, she ran towards him, bent over, and gave him a hug.

Steffen stood there, awkwardly, as if afraid to hug back someone in a position of royalty. But finally, hesitantly, he did. He pulled back and bowed low.

“My lady,” he said. “When I heard you left the Tower, I came at once. If you decide to give me a position with the other servants, of course I will accept wherever it is you wish. But if you wish to have me once again by your side, I will fight to the death to protect you from any and all harm.”

Gwen smiled back.

“Steffen, you are my right hand, and one of the few people I would trust with my life. You shall be afforded every honor this kingdom has to offer. Speak not of being a servant ever again.”

Steffen’s eyes opened wide and he broke into a smile as he stared back, then bowed his head low again.

“Yes, my lady.”

“You’ve come just in time,” she said. “Tomorrow, we face attack from my uncle. Believe it or not, Silesia is preparing for a siege once again.”

“My lady,” Steffen said, “whatever happens, I shall stay by your side.”

Gwen turned and faced her men, determined.

“Let us go over our defenses again,” she said. “Where are we most vulnerable?”

Srog cleared his throat.

“My lady, defending the outer wall will be a challenge,” Srog said. “The damage Andronicus did was too extensive. Even if we were to hold one gate, there are too many other gates to secure. We just don’t have the manpower. Tirus’ men are veteran warriors—they will know that. They also have the manpower to test every gate.”

“They probably scouted it all out before they approached,” Kendrick added.

“What do you recommend then?” Gwendolyn asked.

Kendrick rubbed his chin.

“What they will expect,” Kendrick began, “is for us to defend at the gates. I suggest that we surprise them. Let them overrun the gates. We can place our men at the inner wall, at the very edge of the Canyon, blocking the entrance to Lower Silesia. They will enter to find a vacant city courtyard, with no resistance, and they will be confused. Then we can attack them from all sides.”

“It is a good plan,” Srog said. He turned and faced the city courtyard. “We can place archers there,” he added, pointing to various spots throughout the city walls. “And spears down below. We can take out the first thousand before they regroup.”

“And after that?” Gwen asked.

Srog and the others exchanged a worried glance.

“After that, they will overrun our defenses. There is no way around it,” Srog said. “But we can retreat to Lower Silesia, and hold out there as long as we can.”

Gwen sighed.

“And if we retreat below,” she asked, “how long until we all perish?”

They shook their heads, and Gwen saw the fear on their faces.

“With our current provisions, perhaps we can outlast them a week. Perhaps two.” Srog cleared his throat. “I wish I had a better strategy, my lady. But we are vastly outnumbered, and our men are weakened and our provisions low.”

Gwendolyn looked all around the city as she mulled over everything they’d said. She breathed deeply, hands on her hips, and examined the city walls, her warriors. She mulled over all her options and she didn’t like any of them. Some inflicted damage, but none led to victory.

“There is another option,” she said, “that none of you are considering.”

They all watched her as she took several steps forward, and surveyed the walls and beyond.

“We can vacate the city altogether, and attack them beyond the walls, in the open field.”

They all stood there, speechless, and looked at her as if she had gone mad.

“Vacate the city, my lady?”

Gwen nodded, feeling more confident in the plan the more she thought about it.

“In the morning, they will come for a decision. We will go out to greet them with an envoy, while our main forces will circle around them and flank their sides. We will surprise them with an attack in the open field.”

“My lady,” Brom said, “that would be suicide. Without the protection of these walls, we would all die.”

She turned to Brom and felt a new strength course through her. She was hardening, becoming a queen, with no fears and no regrets.

“We will die anyway,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “And if we’re going to die, I’d rather die killing more of Tirus’ men. I’d rather die now, with honor, than have our people suffer slowly.”

They all looked at her, and she saw a new sense of awe and respect in their eyes.

“So it is decided, then,” she said. “We will attack at first light. Prepare yourselves.”