The next day, the whole city was there to watch as the aristocrats went out to stand the wall.

There were around two hundred of them, aged between fifteen and thirty, all dressed in shining, polished armour decorated with strips of bronze and carrying long spears that looked as though they had never been used. Five hundred of the city's professional soldiers accompanied them to the Nasby District, the place where the outer wall was highest as a result of the land outside falling into a depression filled with rocks and scrubby plants. It was the very last place the orcs would attack, but for that very reason the wall there had been left in disrepair with weeds and even small trees growing in it, their roots gradually pushing apart the great blocks of stone of which it was composed. Randall had no doubt that it would soon be repaired to be as smart as the rest of the wall, now that it was to have such illustrious guardians.

A crowd of common folk lining the street on both sides shouted and jeered as the aristocrats marched past, but nothing was thrown while they had the soldiers to protect them. "I assume they're just to make sure they get to the wall safely," said Dolly Bannermane, standing beside Randall as they watched from an upper window of The Interesting Weasel. "Once they get there, the soldiers'll spread out all around the wall like they usually do, right?"

"I suspect they've been ordered to stay where the aristocrats are," said Randall, though. "They're there to protect them from us just as much as from the orcs."

"But that means there's only half as many soldiers to man the rest of the wall! To protect themselves, they're putting the rest of us in greater danger!"

"The wall is thirty thousand yards long," pointed out Randall. "If they were spread evenly, that's still just one soldiers every thirty yards. Their contribution to the city's defence is quite small compared to the militia. I expect the soldiers'll do what they usually do; stay mobile. Go to there the fighting's fiercest to reinforce the ordinary citizens."

"But now there are only half as many of them to do the reinforcing! To do that for just two hundred extra defenders means the city is actually less well defended than it was before!"

Randall agreed but he didn't care. "I expect this is just a temporary measure," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if the aristocrats end up being officers of the militia, spread out around the wall, and the soldiers spread out with them. As soon as the threat of being lynched has passed. The aristocrats are scared at the moment. Scared of us. As soon as the fear's had a chance to fade, I imagine that the chance to order people around will be quite attractive."

"VIX cursed cowards!" said Maisey, coming forward to join them at the window. "Having to be dragged out of their fancy mansions like toads from a stone."

"The important thing is that they're out," said Randall.

No, he was thinking, though. The important thing is that I have power now. People do what I say. Even the aristocrats listen to me, although grudgingly. The common people, though... To them, I'm a superstar!

As if to emphasise the point, a group of young men walking past in the street below saw Randall in the window and cheered up at him. "Hooray for Watt Fletcher!" they shouted, taking off their hats and waving them. "Hero of Elmton!"

"Aye!" shouted another. "Give him a good riding, Dolly! He's earned it!"

"We both will!" shouted back Maisey. "Right, mum?"

"You will not," said Randall to Maisey. "What would young Eddie say if he found out?"

"He won't mind sharing me with you. You're Fletcher, the hero!"

"He might say he doesn't mind, but he would and I don't want to stand in the way of young love."

Maisey came closer and smiled impishly up at him. "If you ever change your mind..."

"I won't. Now be off with you."

She laughed and skipped away, but looked back one last time and winked at him before disappearing around the door.

"I notice you didn't reject the idea of being ridden by me," said Dolly, eyeing him with a faint smile.

"You noticed that, did you?"

"Aye, I did. A lot of men would prefer the fresh, young sixteen year old to the old, clapped out forty year old."

"I'm sure a lot of men would find her pretty, but she can't hold a candle to you."

Dolly's smile broadened. "You think so?"

"I do." And Randall really did. Maisey was rather flat chested, as he'd seen on a couple of occasions. These people seemed to have no problem with walking around in their bare skins. Dolly, on the other hand, was much more generously endowed.

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"Do you fancy a ride now?"

"How about if I do the riding?"

Dolly laughed. Then she took his hand and they walked together to the bed.

☆☆☆

An hour later they were lying side by side, panting with exhaustion, both drenched in each others sweat.

Gods, thougnt Randall as he lay in the afterglow of euphoria, but it's been a long time. Too long! Life as a world business leader had meant that he had had little time for such things, and as a result he was a little out of practice. Dolly hadn't seemed to notice, though, or perhaps she'd simply been too generous in spirit to say anything.

The thought angered Randall. No, dammit, I am good in bed! Loach is wrong about me. I do deserve a good woman and I know it, so stop being so bloody insecure! She enjoyed what we just did as much as I did, unless she was just putting on a good show as a reward for taming the aristocrats.

They'd kicked the sheets off the bed in their enthusiasm and the cold air was chilling their bodies. Randall reached over the side of the bed to pull the coarse woollen blankets back over them but before he could do so Dolly sat up and reached for his arm. "How's that cut you got?" she said. Randall lay back down as she gently removed the bandages.

"No infection," she said with satisfaction. "And it seems to be healing nicely." She smiled down at him. "It doesn't seem to have left your arm any weaker either, if your performance just now was any clue."

Don't ask! Randall warned himself. Don't ask if she enjoyed it. It's a sign of insecurity. Women like confidence, so be confident.

"I think you'll find I've got plenty of strength in every part of my body," he said therefore. "I'd be happy to demonstrate if you like." He sat up and reached for her shoulders, intending to push her back down onto the bed.

She resisted, though, pushing his hands away. "It's the middle of the morning and I've got work to do," she said. "You can keep your demonstration until tonight, if you still want to..."

"God, yes, I'll, still want to!" said Randall, much more emphatically than he'd intended. God, but he sounded like a teenager!

"I meant that there's not an unmarried woman outside Harpers Wall who'd say no to you now. You could have any woman you wanted."

"And out of all of them, I want you."

She beamed with delight. "Truly? When you could have any teenager? When there's Maisey right here in this house with a tighter box than mine has been for many a year."

"Your box is just perfect. And you've also got these." He grabbed a breast and gave it a squeeze. " I wouldn't trade you for any other woman."

Dolly radiated happiness, and Randall felt himself echoing it. How long had it been since he'd given a woman genuine happiness? Back in his old life he'd paid women for sex. Either prostitutes or gold miners willing to open their legs for the sparkling jewellery he'd bought for them. They'd pretended to enjoy the sex, but he didn't fool himself that they'd felt anything real for him. Dolly, though... Was it possible that he, Randall, had actually managed to give her a genuinely good time in bed? Damn Loach for putting such doubts into his head!

"And how's your leg?" asked Dolly, sitting up and leaning over to examine it.

Randall jerked in sudden alarm. Shit, yes, his leg! The leg that was supposed to have been injured during his titanic battle with the orc chieftain! How could he have forgotten? He'd been careful to always keep it covered, but now...

"Where's the injury?" asked Dolly, examining it carefully.

Randall thought quickly. "It wasn't a cut. It pushed me and I twisted my knee as I fell. I think I tore some tendons."

Dolly prodded and squeezed his knee. "Well, there's no swelling. Must have been just a small tear that's almost healed."

"Probably. The priest said I just had to rest it and it would heal on its own. It's still weak, though. It aches when I use it too much."

"Rest it, then. You'll be wanting to take your own place on the wall as soon as you can. Maybe you'll find yourself fighting alongside a nob if the orcs come back. Fanct that." Dolly climbed to her feet and reached for her clothes.

"Yeah," thought Randall without enthusiasm. "Imagine that." He reached for his own clothes, but then there was a hammering on the door which opened immediately to reveal Maisey, looking scared and alarmed. "It's the orcs!" she cried. "They're back!" Then she ran off to carry the warning to the other occupants of the tavern, leaving the door wide open.

Randall and Dolly glanced at each other in alarm, then got dressed as fast as they could.

☆☆☆

The orcs were marching in organised columns like a Roman legion, Randall saw a few minutes later when he reached the top of the wall. They were just visible at the edge of vision, on the other side of the fields that lay between the city and Ringer Woods. They might have been overlooked except that the sun was gleaming on the tips of their spears and halberds creating an eerie, almost supernatural looking sight that brought gasps and sighs of primeval fear from the city's defenders.

They weren't approaching the city, though. They were marching past it, as if they were on their way somewhere else and the city just happened to be in the way. "The army!" said the man next to Randall, a wool dyer by the look of his stained hands. "The army must be almost here and the orcs want to get them before they reach the safety of the city walls."

Randall nodded. It seemed a reasonable deduction. "There'll be a battle," he said, "and whoever wins will come back here."

"I bet the nobs are crapping in their armour!" said another man with a scared laugh. "They're forced out of their mansions just in time to see that!"

"It makes no sense!" said the wool dyer. "They were in the city! They'd won! Then, for no reason, they just leave and then they come back. What are they up to?"

"There's things going on out there we don't know about," said the scared man. "Maybe there's another human army out there, marching from Scufflow perhaps. The orcs had to pull out to deal with it."

"Why would an army from Scuffield commit suicide like that?"

The scared man had no answer to that, though, and neither did Randall. It was a mystery and he didn't like mysteries. If everything went as he hoped he would have to lead a team of men out there sometime in the next few days to excavate Gorsty Common. The idea that there might be something else out there, waiting to take them by surprise, scared him. It scared him a lot.

He stood there for a few minutes longer, watching the orcs marching past, then turned and headed back to The Interesting Weasel.