The night was dark and the tension in the air almost thick enough for the touch, as Cleo considered ‘her’ troops. Most of the men standing in front of her were cutthroat attracted with the promise of coin, while the rest consisted of Gilbet’s household guards. Despite their dire need for men, the Lord had decided to send some to escort his family and servant to safety. It left them with twenty soldiers, if you could call them as such for their faces showed more fear than bravery. The pikemen's flashy livery stood out next to the hardened criminals, dressed in dark leathers and holding mere knives. This disparate band was about to face the Empire’s best, and seeing them, the Lady could not help but worry about their chances. The enemy’s numbers were unknown and they acted on orders from a renowned general. She still felt torn about opposing her sibling, but Cleo was done living in his shadow. She clenched the handle of her knife to summon her courage.
The rest of her sad army were the beggars, dispersed around the city in key locations, ready to relay word of Chaffaud’s movements. There was no sign of the Lord so far, and she worried about it. If he decided to come to the harbor at the wrong time, Cleo's forces would find themselves surrounded between his and the Empire’s. She shuddered at the thought. But perhaps she had been wrong all along and nothing would happen, this whole plot being just the ranting of her paranoid mind. A whistling sound came to her ears, snapping her out of her doubts. Ben arrived from the main tower, running in their direction with his hands full of weapons, confirming the signal. The thief had been alone in the spire for most of the evening, working on strentghening his defenses. He joined her on the wooden pier and let down his load.
“How many?” She asked anxiously as he caught his breath.
“Only saw the one boat. I’m no expert but I’d say fifty men at most.” Cleo let out a small sight of relief. She had hoped not to be outnumbered on top of being outmatched in terms of skill and gear.
“Then I will get the men ready and in position, and give the signal to my own ships.” Gilbet said, not looking very confident. Cleo glanced at Ben, surprised their most experienced soldier had not taken command.
“Don’t look at me, never ordered folks around. His guards listen to him, and the rest follows, seems good enough to me.” He shrugged.
“Could you get your work done on the tower?”
“Aye, should give them some trouble if we can’t hold here.” He nodded before holding out a crossbow to her. “Ever loaded one? I guess not, yer gonna have to learn fast then.”
“Surely there are other people, more qualified for this task…”
“Might need ya if all yer plannin’ turn to shit. Why d’ya think I got two of these?” She frowned, she did not really expect to take part in the bloodbath. “Don’t worry, I’ll shoot, ya just reload as fast as ya can.”
Ben took her behind some crates further down the docks, and showed the Lady how to work the crank. It helped taking her mind off the incoming doom. The contraption proved quite simple to use, only it was hard on her arms. After a few tries, he showed her how to position the bolts in the arbalests before telling her to stop. She lifted her eyes and saw the ominous shape of a boat drawing close in the darkness. She glanced around her to find her comrades in arms waiting in hiding, the silence was dreadful. She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Calm down, lass.” Ben put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Jus’ do as I tell ya, and run away if things go south.” She nodded weakly.
“Do you think it will work?”
“Well, I don’t know shit about boats. Only that they’re made of wood, and wood burns.” He winked at her.
The silence grew heavier as the vessel approached, and she could discern it better now. It looked like a common merchant ship and wore Chaffaud’s colors. She clutched the handle of her knife to reassure herself. As soon as the ship’s flank touched the docks, a few man dressed as sailors appeared on its deck, ropes in hands. But before they could throw the anchors they startled, hearing some crashing noises. Various pots and clay jugs exploded on the deck, spraying it with thick and dark liquid. Some light on her side attracted her attention, Ben was lighting up a torch which he handed out to her. In one fluid motion, the thief took out his bow, lit up his arrow and shot. Her gaze following the projectile, she noticed a dozen more going in the same direction, before a ‘WOOSH’ sounded in the night. Cries of alarm spread on the boat, together with the fire, making for a ghastly scene.
“Ya were right, bastards wear damn plate.” Ben’s voice snapped her out of the shock, and she saw the shapes of soldiers hurrying to disembark. They looked heavy-armored indeed, and they ran through the flames as if those were of no concern.
“Hand me a crossbow will ya?” Ben took the weapon, turned back and fired. “Next, reload that one.” He exchanged the empty arbalest for a loaded one. Cleo applied the lessons she had taken minutes earlier, trying to ignore the shouts of pain and alarm around her.
The both of them repeated the process a few times, and she did not dare look at the destruction in which she was taking part.
“God with us, for the Emperor!” A voice rose above all the mayhem, welcomed by a deafening chorus of shouts. Cleo risked a glance in their direction and froze. Armor, shields and swords shone in the burning ship’s light, a vision far more impressive than what awaited on the docks. A disparate band of ragtag, scared and inexperienced men. Her chest tightened, despite the surprise and the flames, her plan was doomed.
“One gold coin for each of these bastards’ head!” A familiar female husky voice answered the cries. All eyes turned to the whore, standing beside Gilbet. “The Lord is paying.” She pointed at him with a grin.
“Men, to me! Defend your city, your homes, and your families!” He shouted, raising his sword above his head.
The answer from his soldiers might not sound as impressive as their counterpart, but it somehow lifted the criminals’ spirits. They managed to group up to met the Empire’s charge. More than three dozen Templars in plated steel were running down the pier and towards them.
“Take this, shoot at anythin’ wearin’ white.” Ben handed her his crossbow. “Just point and pull the trigger, as long as it is a good dozen paces away from me.” He added seeing the uncomfortable expression on her face.
She stared at the weapon before a loud metallic noise drew her attention back to the battle. Screams of anger and pain soon followed, and she saw Ben running towards the melee, spear in hand. The lady forced herself to act and reload her crossbow. Once done, she lifted it up and began sighting, the heavy contraption shaking in her hands. How was she to hit a target in this mayhem? Her side was losing ground rapidly, and her fear was growing by the second. She had to do something, Cleo cursed and closed her eyes, before letting loose. When she opened them warily, but could not find any sign of success in the chaos in front of her. She could see Ben, dancing in and out the melee, falling an opponent before moving out of harm’s way and search for a new foe. He seemed methodical and calm, using his allies as shields mercilessly while he dealt death with his lance.
Cleo took her attention away from the ghastly scene to concentrate on her task. She shot a second bolt, it went over her target by a good five feet. Bodies were now lying on the ground everywhere, while the wounded tried crawling over them to reach safety. She inserted one more projectile and took aim, trying to steady her arms before firing this time. She almost cried out in satisfaction as the arrow hit, only to curse when she realized it was stuck in one of the knights’ shield. The next one would work, she told herself, and she set out to repeat the process.
But then a hand landing on her shoulder made her jump away in fright. She reflexively raised her weapon and stopped, recognizing the beggar.
“Oy, don’t shoot mi. I’m just bringing word to you.” He raised both hands in fright.
“Sorry…I…” She relaxed and pointed the crossbow away.
“Chaffaud and his men are on the move, towards the north.” He told her. “Though I guess you’re busy enough here.” He added as he watched the battle over her shoulder.
Cleo felt her knees grow weak. The city’s defenders were barely holding against their current foe, a second one would mean certain failure and death.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“BEN!” She yelled atop her lungs, and before she knew it, the thief was back at her side. He was a ghastly sight, covered in blood, guts and sweat.
“Chaffaud is heading to the north gate.” She told him.
“Damn it was supposed to be the southern one.” He grunted. She had asked Gilbet to post some of his remaining troops there, it was the closest entrance for a coastal landing.
“How could I not have seen it? Securing the gates would only be useful if the harbor operation failed, meaning the plan was discovered. Of course it had to be the least suspicious gate.” She scolded herself.
”Clever bastard, yer brother.” Ben grunted.
“Send word to the men, they have to relocate swiftly.” She told the elder who left in hurry. Or at least as fast as his lame leg allowed, Cleo observed bitterly.
“Won’t be enough, ‘tis too far. They’d have to cross the whole city.” Ben remarked.
“I am aware of that fact, but what else can we do? We are already losing ground here, we have to retreat to the tower.” She cried out in despair.
She had had so little time to mount up a defense, and so little resources. And it would all be for naught if seemed, she bit her lip in frustration.
“Mae!” Ben shouted and got the whore’s attention, she ran out of hiding and towards him. “Buy us five minutes and take everyone to the north gate, fast.” She gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Stay behind this.” He added, giving her his tall shield. The woman took it and headed to the councilman to relay the instructions.
“Us?” Cleo asked.
“I ain’t staying alone with one of them mercenaries. I don’t trust them with my back. Punched a few of Gilbet’s guards too.” He explained sheepishly.
Cleo frowned, but before she could object Ben took both crossbows and signaled her to grab the rest of his gear. Then he began running towards the huge tower at the end of the pier, and Cleo’s eyes widened in understanding. She went in pursuit of the thief, struggling to keep up with his pace, in hope of stopping his mad plan. Ben stopped when reaching the tower’s base, and grabbed a rope ladder to begin his ascent.
“There is a door…” Cleo spoke under him, exhausted with the chase. “…in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Can’t use it.” He told her.
“Why? Wait…” It was far from the most pressing concern. “Are you planning to… defend this place… alone with me?” She wanted to shout at the half-wit, but she lacked the strength.
“Just climb dammit, bastards are comin’.” He said over his shoulder and resumed his ascent.
Cleo glanced behind her and cursed. The defenders were falling back, and a dozen of the Templars were already heading her way. She threw the quivers over her shoulders, and went up after Ben. The climb proved difficult, her frail arms and the exhaustion didn’t help. She heard shouts of alarm somewhere below, making her anxiety grow, but she did not dare to look. Then she let out a gasp of surprise as the rope began pulling her up on its own. Ben was giving her a hand and she soon reached the top, he took hold of her and she went over the parapet. Something flew over her head, an arrow, she realized in fright.
Cleo did not get time to gather her wits though, a clicking sound relented and an empty crossbow appeared in front of her. She took out the lever and set herself to work, while Ben fired a shot beside her. A sharp cry of pain answered from below. The two exchanged weapons a few more times, before a crashing sound came to her ears. She swallowed a lump in her throat.
“How long do you think the door will hold?” She asked, growing scared.
“Dunno.” He cursed. “Hand me that thing over there, they’re startin’ a shield wall.”
Cleo glanced around her, and discovered an impressive array of weapons and amphorae on the tower’s roof. Ben had lit up a torch by the time she brought him a clay pot. She watched him stuff it with a cloth, which he set on fire before throwing it over the wall. A cracking sound ensued, quickly followed by screams of pain. Ben did not waste time to watch the result, he was already back at work with a crossbow.
“This is how battles shoud be.” He grinned. “Me standin’ atop a tower and the bastards fifty feet down cursing at me.”
She wanted to agree, but the loud knocks on the door reminded her that their advantageous position would not last. Cleo went back to reloading the arbalest, it was getting harder each time, her arms were already weak from the previous climb. Every time she inserted a bolt into the dreading contraptions, the Lady tried not to think about the death it was dealing. The death of her fellow countrymen, she observed bitterly. As if the angry shouts and cries for help from downstairs were not upsetting enough. A crashing sound and some cheers made a chill run down her spine. The attackers had broken in, and she glanced at Ben in anguish. The idiot winked at her, before letting another bolt loose. Did he not understand their predicament? She wanted to strangle him.
“Grab your knife and get ready for some cuttin’.” He told her. Cleo was biting her nails now, and looking around for a way to escape. But the only exit she saw was a wooden panel leading downstairs, were armored men were probably swarming now.
“I’m not sure I…” She paused, hearing some angry voices, the attackers were cursing and arguing among themselves.
“Clever ain’t it? Bastards show up and start ramming the door while we shoot at them. But when they finally open it, surprise! ” Ben grinned and Cleo looked at him in confusion. “I walled-off the door. Bet they’re pretty pissed now.” He smiled at her proudly, and pointed at one of the clay containers.
“I am amazed, I would never have thought you capable of such ingenuity.” She let out a sigh of relief before handing an amphora to him. The lid was greasy, she noted, probably a mix of oil and animal fat.
“Ya see, I’ve been in their situation during a few battles.” He lit up the jar before letting it down on the attackers and smiled at the result. “Pissing my pants with other fellows and praying for arrows and rocks to miss as we rammed a door. Then I thought, what if we open it and there’s a wall behind? We’d be pretty screwed then.” He laughed.
“So the only option left to them would be to scale the walls.” She nodded. The Lady had thought the man to be an idiot, but his trick was currently holding at bay thirty of the mightiest living warriors. The relief she felt after the previous tension made her want to embrace him. She took some time to glance at the harbor, and saw the shapes of Gilbet’s ships heading to the entrance. The plan was for their captains to sink them there, blocking the way into the port. The Lady felt as if her scheme could perhaps work after all, and she smiled.
“No time to celebrate, I told ya to get ready. Look out for grapples.” Ben’s voice snapped her out of her considerations. He held out his torch to her. “Jus’ don’t step too close to the edge with it, they’ll see ya and they have a few crossbows.”
Cleo took it and glanced around her, but found nothing. She began walking along the battlement, before a metallic *cling* drew her attention. She hastened towards it and found a steel hook gripping the stone, it was attached to a rope. She heard a few more being launched and taking hold of the rempart. She grabbed one and drew her knife.
“Hold on, will ya.” Ben spoke and she turned back to glare at him, there was a trained killer at the other end of the cord and she did not feel like to wait.
“Give ‘em asshole time to climb a bit, it won’t do much yet. Jus’ a strained ankle, maybe.” He stepped towards a second grapple and drew his sword. “A thirty feet fall in heavy armor is another story.” He said with a grin.
She waited for Ben’s signal then, trying to calm herself down. A minute went by, and it felt like an hour. A few other hooks took hold on the tower’s edge, adding to her stress. Then Ben nodded to her and lifted his sword, and both slashed at the same time. A few cries of surprise rose from bellow, followed by a deafening metallic sound. The thief hurried on to the next rope and she imitated him. Cries of alarm and curses pierced the night as they repeated the process a few times. When there was nothing left to cut, Cleo sat down, feeling exhausted.
“No time to rest, lass. Reload them crossbows.” Ben said as he heaved another jar of oil over the parapet.
“Should they not be retreating? It appears their assault has failed.” She frowned as she set to work with the crank.
“Where would they go? We burned their boat. I think they have orders to take this tower, or die tryin’.” He shot at the attackers, then a sharp banging noise relented. “Damn, bastards got a huge hammer now.” He said after bending over the edge to take a peek.
“But… Can they really break down a stone wall?” She asked, worried.
“Pretty sure they can, seeing the size of their thing.” He said without looking at her. “Didn’t get much time to block the entrance, and the mortar is probably not dry yet.” He handed his empty weapon to her.
With a renewed sense of urgency, the young woman went back to work her lever. Ben kept shooting, pausing sometimes to rain fire down the attackers.
“Run, there’s only one or two up the top, we’ll take them!” A voice shouted from bellow.
“What the heck?” Ben exclaimed and, she shot him a nervous glance. “They split up, there’s still a good number down there, but the rest is running towards the docks.”
“Perhaps they are giving up and escaping?” Cleo offered, hopeful. Surely there had to be a limit of how much fire and arrows one could take.
“Don’t look like folks giving up to me.” He grunted.
“Oh god. They are heading the the gate.” Cleo realized in anguish.
“Goddamit, Mae’s there with the others. Bloody Templars are gonna attack them from behind, and I don’t give Gilbet’s men much chances against them.” He punched the crenelation with anger.
“I think we have more pressing concerns ourselves.” Cleo pointed out, hearing the hammer smash against the stone down bellow.
Ben did not listen to her objection, he sheathed his sword an began stripping off his armor. She gasped.
“Is it hopeless then? Please do not tell me that we’re escaping by diving, the waters are sixty feet down!” She cried out. He kept going, now taking off his greaves.
“Tis not over. I’m going to help them, while you deal with the assholes under us.” He spoke in a hard voice. His calm in the face of their situation infuriated her.
“You must be jesting! Am I to fend off some of the best soldiers the Empire has to offer on my own?” She shouted.
“Listen to me, lass.” He said once finished, wearing only his breeches and sword. “Ya wait for a big, big noise, and you throw a couple of these down the hatch.” He told her, pointing at the clay containers.
“Do you really think some oil will suffice? It had not stopped them so far.” She protested.
“Don’t worry, I left another surprise for the bastards. Now, I will be back as soon as I can a’right?”
“This is insane!” She screamed.
“Trust me. Just be sure to use the fire at the right time. Keep workin’ the crossbows until then.” He told her as he headed toward the tower’s edge.
“How do I know…”
“Wait for the noise, it should work. Worst case, do this.”
Before she could further plead for him to stay, Ben jumped down the harbor. A loud splash of water covered Cleo’s voice as she cursed him.