The possessed had come prepared. They hoisted ladders up onto the wall and within minutes dozens of possessed were hanging from the underside of the ladders slowly climbing to storm the gate. Murdoch had quickly organised his remaining men into a defensive posture around the gatehouse. There were no men on the walls, they had blocked off the entrances and guarded them with halberdiers. The thick wooden doors which led to the battlements were guarded by four men. All of the musketeers were firing from the roof of the gatehouse, they were ordered to hold fire until they had a guaranteed kill. Pyp had been given an arming sword to defend himself with and had been told to stay inside the gatehouse. Surrounding him were constant explosions of black powder weapons and shouts from men as the possessed began to break down their defences.
Garth stood by Pyp sword in hand looking helpless, "What do we do," he asked his eyes coloured with a hint of fear.
"There's nothing we can do, the captain has things under control, if he needs us then things will be truly desperate," replied Pyp nervously flexing his sword hand. A man pulled back from a door screaming in pain. A possessed had opened his throat and blood ran down his armour.
"They're getting through!" screamed a dragoon as he furiously stabbed his halberd through a widening crack in the door.
Garth rushed over immediately and threw his weight onto the makeshift defences.
"Pyp get over here," he shouted as he pushed with all his might.
Pyp slowly moved over to the door and drew his sword, he placed it point first on a crack in the door. The stony face of a possessed flitted in and out of view.
"Kill it," Garth shouted in his ear.
Pyp missed as he thrust the sword through the crack only nicking the skull. An axe hacked into the door coming to a hair's breadth from splitting Pyp's skull, he fell back letting out a strangled gasp. Garth was pushed back as the axe split a larger gap into the door. Pyp began to scurry away from the carnage as a possessed reached in and pulled another dragoon out into the slaughter. He heard Garth let out a desperate scream as he started throwing bits of broken wood toward the looming possessed. Pyp quickly rolled to his feet and for a moment froze in hesitation. His hands shook uncontrollably and he could feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine. He was worried that his sword might fall out of his hands they were so slick with sweat. It was Garth's violent resistance in the face of certain death which spurned him into action. He charged forward aiming his sword at the possessed head, as he charged he stumbled and the sword went wide and missed its mark. His face was pressed against the possessed, and a pungent smell of decay assaulted his nostrils. Strong hands wrapped around his sword arm stopping him from pulling the sword back for a second strike. Pyp watched the axe rise again and knew it would be the last thing he ever saw. He heard a thunk as the axe chopped into the wood, Garth had charged forward and drove his dagger deep into the possessed skull. Pyp pushed himself back and pulled his sword back with him. Two new dragoons rushed forward to defend the door.
Murdoch appeared at the bottom of the stairs, "Sire are you alright," he said rushing to Pyp's side.
"I'm fine captain, how goes the battle," asked Pyp.
"Its hard to tell right now sire, I cannot see how many more foes we face," he said.
A shout from above turned Murdoch's head, "I must leave sire," he said before dashing back up the stairs.
"That was a close one eh," said Garth patting Pyp on the shoulder with shaky hands.
"Too close," he replied.
Pyp's own hands had calmed, he looked over them surprised. He remembered the axe falling and the strange peace he felt when he thought death was approaching. The battle still raged around them as they spoke, shots rang out almost constantly and a loud rhythmic banging was accompanied by throaty shouts from Erit's besiegers. Pyp moved to look out of a murder hole, Erit's men had fashioned a large battering ram and were running it into the wooden gate. Pyp saw a number of men face down dead with large musket shot wounds bleeding profusely. The gate was still standing and the halberdiers were propping up wooden beams to keep the gate from breaking under the constant hammering.
"Erit's men will be through the gate soon," Pyp said looking at the buckling gate.
Garth's eyes narrowed, "I knew that snake Erit couldn't be trusted, he would sell out his entire company just to make a few gold coins," he said his voice low and angry.
"I can't imagine what that woman offered him to do this," said Pyp.
"Wealth, it's the only thing he cares about," said Garth. "We will have to go down there, that won't be enough men to hold back Erit's force," said Garth, Pyp's stomach dropped at the thought of going back into battle but he nodded weakly and drew his sword.
Garth led him down the stairs as the gate finally gave out. A line of halberds two deep was there to meet the incoming rush of bandits. Three men were immediately impaled and fell to the ground screaming as their comrades crushed them in the push of battle. The gate had not fully opened as the wooden supports were propped against side walls, and the small number of outlaws who pushed through were cut down mercilessly. Pyp was relieved, it seemed that soon Erit's men would lose their bellies and retreat, there was no way to push through the halberds. Until he heard a pot break and fire spread across the gate. One of the halberdiers was showered in burning oil, the fire stuck to him and despite his best efforts to put it out he quickly burned to death. Quickly the line moved back from the fire, Erit's men pushed forward and began to encircle the line of halberdiers. How quickly things change, thought Pyp as he was pushed back, the line of men was curving around to cover the flanks. Pyp looked around for the sergeant who Murdoch left in command of the gate, he was nowhere to be seen until Pyp spotted a white sash around a burnt corpse. The men were shouting at each other in confusion and Pyp knew what would happen next, soon more men would die and then the rest would break and run.
"Pyp take charge," shouted Garth, "They will listen to you".
Pyp knew it would have to be him, it could only be him.
"Reform the line!" he screamed pressing forward, his voice ringing around the small space.
He pushed into the back of the dragoons shouting at them to get back into position and throwing a number of colourful curses at the invading bandits. The effect was impressive, halberdiers threw themselves forward poleaxes hacking into the enemy, Erit's men faltered and the expected route had devolved into a hard push. Murdoch must have heard the commotion at the gate and sent a number of musketeers to fire through the murder holes. After a number of volleys the bandits push was spent and they were slowly beaten back out of the gatehouse. They closed what remained of the gates and a cheer sounded throughout the gatehouse. They had held them off, for now.
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Murdoch stood inspecting the gate, "It won't hold up to a single hit from that ram," he said shaking his head.
His dragoons rushed around like ants swarming to move bodies and repair their makeshift defences.
"Do we know how many of them are left," asked Pyp.
"It's hard to tell, the outlaws have extinguished their torches so we don't know how many are left and the dove alone knows how many of those things are left," replied Murdoch, he looked like he aged ten years in the past two hours.
"Our musketmen are down to just over a dozen shots each, we lost eight halberdiers I've only just enough men to cover every entrance." He looked like a defeated man in that moment, his shoulders were hunched and he was looking down at his feet.
"Worry not captain, the dove has graced us so far, I'm sure she will again," said Pyp rebelling against his own sense of impending doom at their current situation.
"I'm sure you are right sire," he said in clipped tones before walking off.
"It'll take more than the dove to give us victory here," said Garth, he was stood leaning against the wall his face stony.
"When you believe a battle lost then it is likely to be so," quoted Pyp, his father used to say it all the time.
"Well rest up sire, we've more fight before the night gives out," said Garth with a dire grin on his face.
Garth's prophecy came true faster than Pyp would have liked. The possessed began the assault by throwing more ladders on the wall, they swarmed up in greater numbers than before, clearly trying to end the siege quickly. Erit's men hadn't deigned to attack the gate again, perhaps they wanted the possessed to wear them down before they attacked again. They must have lost more men than Pyp remembered to be so afraid of assaulting the front gate. The musket fire was more sporadic as the shadowy figures climbed onto the wall, Pyp had stayed by the gate hoping his presence would aid in the defence. As the battle persisted Pyp heard a commotion coming from the possessed side of the gate between musket shots. It almost sounded like another battle was taking place beyond their small siege. A roar from the gate in front of him snapped him back to reality. In an instant he was showered with small shards of wood, and the gate was breached. Erit's men wasted no time swarming inside the wide gap and attacking the compact line of halberdiers. Garth stood, sword in hand, looking at the clash of men unsure what to do. Murdoch pushed through the door with the rest of his soldiers behind him.
"The possessed are broken sire, we slaughtered them to a man," he shouted in triumph.
The halberdiers were too busy to take much notice. Murdoch ordered the rest of his men into the line and took his own place zweihander held ready. With the extra men, the dragoons began to push the bandits back out of the gate and into the street beyond. The dark made the fighting even more terrifying as soldiers died and fell back swallowed by the darkness. More fire pots were thrown into the fray causing the dragoon formation to break apart and the battle descended into a general melee. Pyp stood far back from the fighting, he didn't trust his swordsmanship to put up a decent fight. Garth stood close to Pyp looking for a way into the fighting, his sword was shaking slightly in his hand and a wild look was in his eye. Pyp hadn't seen Garth's sword skills but he looked confident enough stepping around trying to catch the eye of a bandit. Thankfully none came as the battle was winding down and the bandits seemed spent. It had taken a toll on the dragoons and only a small few remained on their feet. Pyp thought it was all over until a large hulking figure emerged from the shadows.
Griv looked even more sinister with his face lit by the burning surroundings. His huge axe arced through the flames and cast a man's head off in a single swing, he killed another man on the backswing. Murdoch rushed forward swinging his zweihander at the giant. They stood there for a long while exchanging blows, neither could gain an advantage over the other. Soon they both broke away from each other breathing heavy.
"Hurry up and end this Griv," came a familiar voice, Erit strode forward into the light in all his splendour.
It seemed he had upscaled his wardrobe, he wore bright purple britches tucked into knee-high leather boots, a richly embroidered jacket hung over his shoulders held together with a thick gold chain.
Erit spotted Pyp standing back from the duo, "Pyp, so it was you," he said with a sneer in his voice.
Before he could respond Murdoch spoke up, "Don't speak so casually to the prince you cur," he spat glaring daggers at Griv.
"Prince?, Pyp did you lie to me, are you not a simple looter with a passion for flutes," he said with mock indignation, "Yes I know all about the secret prince I knew from the start" said Erit relishing the attention.
Pyp doubted that, he seemed convinced enough when they first met.
Garth was the next to speak "You fool no one with your lies Erit, you're a blind fool, Pyp could have been dressed up in lavish robes and you would not have noticed," he said with equal mocking in his tone.
"If it isn't the street rat, I see you've clung to the lost prince, hoping to ride his coat tails to a nice servant position. Just like your mother," said Erit with a devilish grin on his face.
Garth didn't bother to respond he leapt forward, sword in hand. Erit drew his falchion in a flash and parried Garths swing with ease. Garth stumbled passed him leaving him open to a counter from Erit, but he only shoved him with his shoulder.
"You never were good with a blade Garth, there's no way you can beat me boy, there's no reason to try" he said as he hammered his falchion into Garths raised sword.
Pyp dived forward to Garths aid, his sloppy thrust was easily blocked and he got Erit's boot square to his stomach for his efforts. "Sit, good prince" he said patting Pyp's head as he sank to his knees gasping for breath.
Garth was hunched over, his sword held in two hands. He was breathing hard and didn't have breath to berate Erit.
"I always knew you would betray me, the way you looked at me, envied me," said Erit.
"I never envied you, you are a small petty man" spat Garth. Erit's fist slammed into his face.
"Small, petty. Are you sure that you aren't speaking of yourself," said Erit as Garth slowly pushed himself to his feet.
Garth didn't stand a chance, they had been on edge all night and the exhaustion was setting in, Pyp could see it written across his face. Murdoch and Griv still circled each other slowly whittling away at each other's defences.
"I tire of this game boy," said Erit as he kicked away his sword "Let's finish this shall we."
Pyp let out a gasping cry, Erit turned and flashed him a sick smile.
"I'm going to enjoy this," he said with grotesque relish.
He didn't waste time placing his falchion against Garth's neck, "I'm going to hack through your neck and watch you choke on your blood" said Erit.
Garth found a burst of energy and lunged upward pushing Erit's blade away, his hand whipped around and slammed into Erit's chest. His dagger! thought Pyp, when Garth pulled away he expected to see a dagger sticking out of Erit's heart. Instead, he saw Erit grinning like a fool.
"Looks like you're out of luck," he said before running Garth through.
Pyp cried out as Garth's eyes went blank and he fell onto his back Erit's falchion sticking up out of his stomach. Erit turned and stalked toward Pyp with a bemused expression on his face.
"Don't worry little prince, I won't harm a hair on your head, but I can't promise that she won't," he said. Pyp's breath finally returned to him and he stood up towering over Erit, his whole body shook with rage.
"Are you angry boy or simply afraid," asked Erit, "You know there are rumour's about you prince, that your father had a strange obsession with you but you were lanky and weak. A coward, hardly the noble prince like your brothers."
He moved closer to Pyp, more jests at his expense came tumbling from his mouth. Everything about him angered Pyp, the way he talked, with a smug confidence as if he was invincible, the way he walked with a lordly swagger as if he owned the very cobbles he stepped on. Pyp knew he wasn't considered a threat, he was aware of his reputation among the low born. The weak son. The cowed son. The sickly son. He paled in comparison to his brothers. A thud went up Pyp's arm, he looked down into Erit's eyes and saw them go wide with surprise. What had happened thought Pyp looking down. He saw his own dagger pushed deep into Erit's chest, it was stuck directly into Erit's heart. Pyp stared at his bloodied hand in horror. He vaguely heard Murdoch give a wheeze of victory and a loud thud as he and Griv collapsed into a heap on the ground. Pyp could barely feel his body and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest.
"Pyp," a voice came from behind him.