The Siege of Macindaw

35

By now, the defenders at either end of the west rampart had retreated into the two corner towers. Horace inspected the solid oak door of the southwest tower and frowned. It would take a small battering ram to break through. And he assumed the northwest tower door would be no easier. Below, he heard shouting voices and the sound of running feet. Peering over the edge of the walkway, he saw members of the garrison streaming out of the towers into the courtyard. They were heading for the main gateway, where the fortified gatehouse would give them shelter from the attackers.

The way down through the two towers was blocked. But Buttle himself had shown them another route to the courtyard. Horace gathered the Skandians around him. Several had been wounded during the fighting, and he left two of them to look after Trobar. The others were still fit for battle. He led them down the narrow steps beneath the trapdoor that Buttle had used. As they reached the courtyard, he knew their tendency would be to stream after the retreating garrison in an undisciplined throng.

He restrained them by sheer force of will until all of them were down the stairs. Then, forming them into an arrowhead formation, with himself at the tip and Gundar and Nils to his left and right, he led them at a steady, disciplined jog toward the fleeing defenders, currently jostling each other to get through the narrow entrance to the gatehouse.

Hearing the battle chant of the Skandians as they approached, those inside the gatehouse slammed the ironbound oak door shut, leaving nearly twenty of their comrades locked out, backs to the wall, facing their attackers. When there was less than ten meters between the two groups, Horace raised his right hand and called the order to halt. He had the natural gift of command, and it never occurred to the Skandians to ignore him.

"Form a line," he told them, and the arrowhead formation spread out into one line, facing the terrified enemy.

"I'll give you one opportunity to surrender," he told the members of the garrison. "That opportunity is now."

Keren's men eyed the Skandians fearfully. In normal circumstances, they would have surrendered readily enough, but this battle was far from normal. They knew these savage sea wolves were in league with supernatural forces. They had all seen the terrifying apparitions that had risen from the mist in the south. If they surrendered, they had no idea what would become of them. Perhaps they would be sacrificed to the huge warrior they had seen, or the red-faced demons who had soared into the night sky. This was more than a normal battle. They were pitted against the forces of the underworld, the black evil of sorcery, and no sane man would willingly surrender himself to such an enemy.

A long silence greeted Horace's challenge. None of the garrison would take the responsibility. None wanted to single himself out. Finally, Horace shrugged.

"I gave them a chance," he said softly. Then he turned to the wolf-ship skirl. "Gundar, can you take care of this?"

Gundar, who had recovered his ax and was anxious to use it again, snorted in derision. "This ragtag bunch?" he said. "Nils and I could do it on our own. You go and help the Ranger, General."

Horace nodded. He slid his sword back into its scabbard and stepped out of the line.

Gundar waited until one of the other Skandians moved into the space Horace had vacated, then he raised his battleax and roared out the time-honored Skandian battle command.

"Follow me, boys!"

There was a roar from twenty-three throats, and the battle line surged forward. They hit the defenders with a crash of steel, driving the terrified castle garrison back against the stone walls of the gatehouse. Horace watched for a second or two, then turned to run toward the keep tower.