The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy: Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon

Tsurani bowmen answered the bowmen from the walls with their own shower of arrows, and men of Crydee fell from the battlements. Arutha ducked behind the walls of the castle as the arrows sped overhead, then he risked a glance between the merlons of the wall. A horde of attackers filled his field of vision, and a ladder top suddenly appeared before him. A soldier near the Prince grabbed the ladder top and pushed it away, aided by a second using a pole arm. Arutha could hear the screams of the Tsurani as they fell from the ladder. The first soldier to the ladder then fell backward, a Tsurani arrow protruding from his eye, and disappeared into the courtyard.

A sudden shout went up from below, and Arutha sprang to his feet, risking a bowshaft by looking down. All along the base of the wall, Tsurani warriors were withdrawing, running back to the safety of their own lines.

‘What are they doing?’ wondered Fannon.

The Tsurani ran until they were safe from the catapults, then stopped, turned, and formed up ranks. Officers were walking up and down before the men, exhorting them. After a moment the assembled Tsurani cheered.

‘Damn me!’ came from Arutha’s left, and he glimpsed Amos Trask at his shoulder, a seaman’s cutlass in his hand. ‘The maniacs are congratulating themselves on getting slaughtered.’

The scene below was grisly. Tsurani soldiers lay scattered around like toys thrown by a careless giant child. A few moved feebly and moaned, but most were dead.

Fannon said, ‘I’d wager they lost a hundred or more. This makes no sense.’ He said to Roland and Martin, ‘Check the other walls.’ They both hurried off. ‘What are they doing now?’ he said as he watched the Tsurani. In the red glow of sunset, he could see them still in lines, while men lit torches and passed them around. ‘Surely they don’t intend to attack after sunset? They’ll fall over themselves in the dark.’

‘Who knows what they plan?’ said Arutha. ‘I’ve never heard of an attack being staged this badly.’

Amos said, ‘Beggin’ the Prince’s pardon, but I know a thing or two about warcraft – from my younger days – and I’ve also never heard of this like before. Even the Keshians, who’ll throw away dog soldiers like a drunken seaman throws away his money, even they wouldn’t try a frontal assault like this. I’d keep a weather eye out for trickery.’

‘Yes,’ answered Arutha. ‘But of what sort?’

Throughout the night the Tsurani attacked, rushing headlong against the walls, to die at the base. Once a few made the top of the walls, but they were quickly killed and the ladders thrown back. With dawn the Tsurani withdrew.

Arutha, Fannon, and Gardan watched as the Tsurani reached the safety of their own lines, beyond catapult and bow range. With the sunrise a sea of colorful tents appeared, and the Tsurani retired to their campsites. The defenders were astonished at the number of Tsurani dead along the base of the castle walls.

After a few hours the stink of the dead became overpowering, Fannon consulted with an exhausted Arutha as the Prince was readying for an overdue sleep. ‘The Tsurani have made no attempt to reclaim their fallen.’

Arutha said, ‘We have no common language in which to parley, unless you mean to send Tully out under a flag of truce.’

Fannon said, ‘He’d go, of course, but I’d not risk him. Still, the bodies could be trouble in a day or two. Besides the stink and flies, with unburied dead comes disease. It’s the gods’ way of showing their displeasure over not honoring the dead.’

‘Then,’ said Arutha, pulling on the boot he had just taken off, ‘we had best see what can be done.’

He returned to the gate and found Gardan already making plans to remove the bodies. A dozen volunteers were waiting by the gate to go and gather the dead for a funeral pyre.

Arutha and Fannon reached the walls as Gardan led the men through the gate. Archers lined the walls to cover the retreat of the men outside the walls if necessary, but it soon became evident the Tsurani were not going to trouble the party. Several came to the edge of their lines, to sit and watch the Kingdom soldiers working.

After a half hour it was clear the men of Crydee would not be able to complete the work before they were exhausted. Arutha considered sending more men outside, but Fannon refused, thinking it what the Tsurani were waiting for. ‘If we have to move a large party back through the gate, it might prove disastrous. If we close the gate, we lose men outside, and if we leave it open too long, the Tsurani breach the castle.’ Arutha was forced to agree, and they settled down to watch Gardan’s men working in the hot morning.

Then, near midday, a dozen Tsurani warriors, unarmed, walked casually across their lines and approached the work party. Those on the wall watched tensely, but when the Tsurani reached the spot where Crydee men worked, they silently began picking up bodies and carrying them to where the pyre was being erected.

With the help of the Tsurani, the bodies were stacked upon the huge pyre. Torches were set, and soon the bodies of the slain were consumed in fire. The Tsurani who had helped place the bodies upon the pyre watched as the soldier who led the volunteers stood away from the mounting flames. Then one Tsurani soldier spoke a word, and he and his companions bowed in respect to those upon the fire. The soldier who led the Crydee soldiers said, ‘Honors to the dead!’ The twelve men of Crydee assumed a posture of attention and saluted. Then the Tsurani turned to face the Kingdom soldiers and again they bowed. The commanding soldier called out, ‘Return salute!’ and the twelve men of Crydee saluted the Tsurani.

Arutha shook his head, watching men who had tried to kill one another working side by side as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then saluting one another. ‘Father used to say that, among man’s strange undertakings, war stood clearly forth as the strangest.’

At sundown they came again, wave after wave of attackers, rushing the west wall, to die at the base. Four times during the night they struck, and four times they were repulsed.

Now they came again, and Arutha shrugged off his fatigue to fight once more. They could see more Tsurani joining those before the castle, long snakes of torchlight coming from the forest to the north. After the last assault, it was clear the situation was shifting to the Tsurani’s favor. The defenders were exhausted from two nights of fighting, and the Tsurani were still throwing fresh troops into the fray.

‘They mean to grind us down, no matter what the cost,’ said a fatigued Fannon. He began to say something to a guard when a strange expression crossed his face. He closed his eyes and collapsed. Arutha caught him. An arrow protruded from his back. A panicky-looking soldier kneeling on the other side looked at Arutha, clearly asking: What do we do?

Arutha shouted, ‘Get him into the keep, to Father Tully,’ and the man and another soldier picked up the unconscious Swordmaster and carried him down. A third soldier asked, ‘What orders, Highness?’

Arutha spun around, seeing the worried faces of Crydee’s soldiers nearby, and said, ‘As before. Defend the wall.’

The fighting went hard. A half-dozen times Arutha found himself dueling with Tsurani warriors who topped the wall. Then, after a timeless battling, the Tsurani withdrew.

Arutha stood panting, his clothing drenched with perspiration beneath his chest armor. He shouted for water, and a castle porter arrived with a bucket. He drank, as did the others around, and turned to watch the Tsurani host.

Again they stood just beyond catapult range, and their torchlights seemed undiminished. ‘Prince Arutha,’ came a voice behind. He spun around. Horsemaster Algon was standing before him. ‘I just heard of Fannon’s wound.’

Arutha said, ‘How is he?’

‘A close thing. The wound is serious, but not yet fatal. Tully thinks should he live another day, he will recover. But he will not be able to command for weeks, perhaps longer.’

Arutha knew Algon was waiting for a decision from him. The Prince was Knight-Captain of the King’s army and, without Fannon, the commander of the garrison. He was also untried and could turn over command to the Horsemaster. Arutha looked around. ‘Where is Gardan?’

‘Here, Highness,’ came a shout from a short way down the wall. Arutha was surprised at the sergeant’s appearance. His dark skin was nearly grey from the dust that stuck to it, held fast by the sheen of perspiration. His tunic and tabard were soaked with blood, which also covered his arms to the elbows.

Arutha looked down at his own hands and arms and found them likewise covered. He shouted, ‘More water!’ and said to Algon, ‘Gardan will act as my second commander. Should anything happen to me, he will take command of the garrison. Gardan is acting Swordmaster.’

Algon hesitated as if about to say something, then a look of relief crossed his face. ‘Yes, Highness. Orders?’

Arutha looked back toward the Tsurani lines, then to the east. The first light of the false dawn was coming, and the sun would rise over the mountains in less than two hours. He seemed to weigh facts for a time, as he washed away the blood on his arms and face. Finally he said, ‘Get Longbow.’

The Huntmaster was called for and arrived a few minutes later, followed by Amos Trask, who wore a wide grin. ‘Damn me, but they can fight,’ said the seaman.

Arutha ignored the comment. ‘It is clear to me they plan to keep constant pressure upon us. With as little regard as they show for their own lives, they can wear us down in a few weeks. This is one thing we didn’t count upon, this willingness of their men to go to certain death. I want the north, south, and east walls stripped. Leave enough men to keep watch, and hold any attackers until reinforcements can arrive. Bring the men from the other walls here, and order those here to stand down. I want six-hour watches rotated throughout the rest of the day. Martin, has there been any more word of Dark Brother migration?’

Longbow shrugged. ‘We’ve been a little busy, Highness. My men have all been in the north woods the last few weeks.’

Arutha said, ‘Could you slip a few trackers over the walls before first light?’

Longbow considered. ‘If they leave at once, and if the Tsurani aren’t watching the east wall too closely, yes.’

‘Do so. The Dark Brothers aren’t foolish enough to attack this force, but if you could find a few bands the size of the one you spotted three days ago and repeat your trap . . .’

Martin grinned. ‘I’ll lead them out myself. We’d best leave now, before it gets much lighter.’ Arutha dismissed him, and Martin ran down the stairs. ‘Garret!’ he shouted. ‘Come on, lad. We’re off for some fun.’ A groan could be heard by those on the wall as Martin gathered his trackers around him.

Arutha said to Gardan, ‘I want messages sent to Carse and Tulan. Use five pigeons for each. Order Barons Bellamy and Tolburt to strip their garrisons and take ship for Crydee at once.’

Gardan said, ‘Highness, that will leave those garrisons nearly undefended.’

Algon joined in the objection. ‘If the Dark Brotherhood moves toward the Northlands, the Tsurani will have an open path to the southern keeps next year.’

Arutha said, ‘If the Dark Brothers are moving en masse, which they may not be, and if the Tsurani learn they have abandoned the Green Heart, which they may not. I am concerned by this known threat, not a possible one next year. If they keep this constant pressure upon us, how long can we withstand?’

Gardan said, ‘A few weeks, perhaps a month. No longer.’

Arutha once more studied the Tsurani camp. ‘They boldly pitch their tents near the edge of town. They range through our forests, building ladders and siege engines no doubt. They know we cannot sally forth in strength. But with eighteen hundred fresh soldiers from the southern keeps attacking up the coast road from the beaches and the garrison sallying forth, we can rout them from Crydee. Once the siege is broken, they will have to withdraw to their eastern enclaves. We can harry them continuously with horsemen, keep them from regrouping. Then we can return those forces to the southern keeps, and they’ll be ready for any Tsurani attacks against Carse or Tulan next spring.’

Gardan said, ‘A bold enough plan, Highness.’ He saluted and left the wall, followed by Algon.

Amos Trask said, ‘Your commanders are cautious men, Highness.’

Arutha said, ‘You agree with my plan?’

‘Should Crydee fall, what matters when Carse or Tulan falls? If not this year, then next for certain. It might as well be in one fight as two or three. As the sergeant said, it is a bold plan. Still, a ship was never taken without getting close enough to board. You have the makings of a fine corsair should you ever grow tired of being a Prince, Highness.’

Arutha regarded Amos Trask with a skeptical smile. ‘Corsair, is it? I thought you claimed to be an honest trader.’

Amos looked slightly discomposed. Then he broke out in a hearty laugh. ‘I only said I had a cargo for Crydee, Highness. I never said how I came by it.’

‘Well, we have no time for your piratical past now.’

Amos looked stung. ‘No pirate, Sire. The Sidonie was carrying letters of marque from Great Kesh, given by the governor of Durbin.’

Arutha laughed. ‘Of course! And everyone knows there is no finer, more law-abiding group upon the high seas than the captains of the Durbin coast.’

Amos shrugged. ‘They tend to be a crusty lot, it’s true. And they sometimes make free with the concept of free passage on the high seas, but we prefer the term privateer.’

Horns blew and drums beat, and with shrieking war cries the Tsurani came. The defenders waited, then as the attacking host crossed the invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s war engines, death rained down upon the Tsurani. Still they came.

The Tsurani crossed the second invisible line marking the outer range of the castle’s bowmen, and scores more died. Still they came.

The attackers reached the walls, and defenders dropped stones and pushed over scaling ladders, dealing out death to those below. Still they came.

Arutha quickly ordered a redeployment of his reserves, directing them to be ready near the points of heaviest attack. Men hurried to carry out his orders.

Standing atop the west wall, in the thick of the fight, Arutha answered attack with attack, repulsing warrior after warrior as they reached the top of the wall. Even in the midst of battle, Arutha was aware of the scene around him, shouting orders, hearing replies, catching glimpses of what others were doing. He saw Amos Trask, disarmed, strike a Tsurani full in the face with his fist, knocking the man from the wall. Trask then carefully bent down and picked up his cutlass as if he had simply dropped it while strolling along the wall. Gardan moved among the men, exhorting the defenders, bolstering sagging spirits, and driving the men beyond the point where they would normally have given in to exhaustion.

Arutha helped two soldiers push away another scaling ladder, then stared in momentary confusion as one of the men slowly turned and sat at his feet, surprise on his face as he looked down at the Tsurani bowshaft in his chest. The man leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as if deciding to sleep for a time.

Arutha heard someone shout his name. Gardan stood a few feet away, pointing to the north section of the west wall. ‘They’ve crested the wall!’

Arutha ran past Gardan, shouting, ‘Order the reserves to follow!’ He raced along the wall until he reached the breach in the defenses. A dozen Tsurani held each end of a section of the wall, pushing forward to clear room for their comrades to follow. Arutha hurled himself into the front rank, past weary and surprised guards who were being forced back along the battlement. Arutha thrust over the first Tsurani shield, taking the man in the throat. The Tsurani’s face registered shock, then he keeled over and fell into the courtyard below. Arutha attacked the man next to the first and shouted, ‘For Crydee! For the Kingdom!’

Then Gardan was among them, like a towering black giant, dealing blows to all who stood before. Suddenly the men of Crydee pressed forward, a wave of flesh and steel along the narrow rampart. The Tsurani stood their ground, refusing to yield the hard-won breach, and to a man were killed.

Arutha struck a Tsurani warrior with the bell guard of his rapier, knocking him to the ground below, and turned to find the wall once more in the possession of the defenders. Horns blew from the Tsurani lines, and the attackers withdrew.

Arutha became aware the sun had cleared the mountains to the east. The morning had finally come. He surveyed the scene below and felt suddenly more fatigued than he could ever remember. Turning slowly, he saw every man on the wall was watching him. Then one of the soldiers shouted, ‘Hail, Arutha! Hail, Prince of Crydee!’

Suddenly the castle was ringing with shouts as men chanted, ‘Arutha! Arutha!’

To Gardan, Arutha asked, ‘Why?’

With a satisfied look the sergeant replied, ‘They saw you personally take the fight to the Tsurani, Highness, or heard from others. They are soldiers and expect certain things from a commander. They are now truly your men, Highness.’

Arutha stood quietly as the cheers filled the castle. Then he raised his hand and the courtyard fell silent. ‘You have done well. Crydee is served aright by her soldiers.’ He spoke to Gardan. ‘Change the watch upon the walls. We may have little time to enjoy the victory.’

As if his words were an omen, a shout came from a guard atop the nearest tower. ‘Highness, ’ware the field.’

Arutha saw the Tsurani lines had been re-formed. Wearily he said, ‘Have they no limit?’

Instead of the expected attack, a single man walked from the Tsurani line, apparently an officer by his crested helm. He pointed to the walls, and the entire Tsurani line erupted in cheers. He walked farther, within bow range, stopping several times to point at the wall. His blue armor glinted in the morning sun as the attackers cheered with his gestures toward the castle.

‘A challenge?’ said Gardan, watching the strange display as the man showed his back, unmindful of personal danger, and walked back to his own lines.

‘No,’ said Amos Trask, who came to stand next to Gardan. ‘I think they salute a brave enemy.’ Amos shook his head slightly. ‘A strange people.’

Arutha said, ‘Shall we ever understand such men?’

Gardan put his hand upon Arutha’s shoulder. ‘I doubt it. Look, they quit the field.’

The Tsurani were marching back toward their tents before the remains of Crydee town. A few watchmen were left to observe the castle, but it was clear the main force was being ordered to stand down again. Gardan said, ‘I would have ordered another assault.’ His voice betrayed his disbelief. ‘They have to know we are near exhaustion. Why not press the attack?’

Amos said, ‘Who can say. Perhaps they, too, are tired.’

Arutha said, ‘This attacking through the night has some meaning I do not understand.’ He shook his head. ‘In time we will know what they plot. Leave a watch upon the walls, but have the men retire to the courtyard. It is becoming clear they prefer not to attack during the day. Order food brought from the kitchen, and water to bathe with.’ Orders were passed, and men left their posts, some sitting on the walks below the wall, too tired to trudge down the steps. Others reached the courtyard and tossed aside their weapons, sitting in the shade of the battlements while castle porters hurried among them with buckets of fresh water. Arutha leaned against the wall. He spoke silently to himself. ‘They’ll be back.’

They came again that night.

• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN •

Siege

WOUNDED MEN GROANED AT SUNRISE.

For the twelfth straight night the Tsurani had assaulted the castle, only to retire at dawn. Gardan could not see any clear reason for the dangerous night attacks. As he watched the Tsurani gathering up their dead, then returning to their tents, he said, ‘They are strange. Their archers cannot fire at the walls once the ladders are up for fear of hitting their own men. We have no such problem, knowing everyone below is the enemy. I don’t understand these men.’

Arutha sat numbly washing the blood and dirt from his face, oblivious to the scene about him. He was too tired even to answer Gardan. ‘Here,’ a voice nearby said, and he pulled the damp cloth from his face to see a proffered drinking cup. He took the cup and drained it in one long pull, savoring the taste of strong wine.

Carline stood before him, wearing tunic and trousers, her sword hanging at her side. ‘What are you doing here?’ Arutha asked, fatigue making his voice sound harsh in his own ears.

Carline’s manner was brisk. ‘Someone must carry water and food. With every man on the walls all night long, who do you think is fit for duty in the morning? Not that pitiful handful of porters who are too old for fighting, that is certain.’

Arutha looked about and saw other women, ladies of the castle as well as servants and fishwives, walking among the men, who thankfully took the offered food and drink. He smiled his crooked smile. ‘How fare you?’

‘Well enough. Still, sitting in the cellar is as difficult in its own way as being on the wall, I judge. Each sound of battle that reaches us brings one or another of the ladies to tears.’ Her voice carried a tone of mild disapproval. ‘They huddle like rabbits. Oh, it is so tiresome.’ She stood quietly for a moment, then asked, ‘Have you seen Roland?’

He looked about. ‘Last night for a time.’ He covered his face in the soothing wetness of the cloth. Pulling it away after a moment, he added, ‘Or perhaps it was two nights past. I’ve lost track.’ He pointed toward the wall nearest the keep. ‘He should be over there somewhere. I put him in charge of the off watch. He is responsible for guarding against a flank attack.’

Carline smiled. She knew Roland would be chafing to get into the fight, but with his responsibilities it would be unlikely unless the Tsurani attacked on all sides. ‘Thank you, Arutha.’

Arutha feigned ignorance. ‘For what?’

She kneeled and kissed his wet cheek. ‘For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.’ She stood and walked away.

Roland walked along the battlements, watching the distant forest beyond the broad clearing that ran along the eastern wall of the castle. He approached a guard standing next to an alarm bell and said, ‘Anything?’

‘Nothing, Squire.’

Roland nodded. ‘Keep a watchful eye. This is the narrowest open area before the wall. If they come against a second flank, this is where I would expect the assault.’

The soldier said, ‘In truth, Squire. Why do they come only against one wall, and why the strongest?’

Roland shrugged. ‘I don’t pretend to know. Perhaps to show contempt, or bravery. Or for some alien reason.’

The guard came to attention and saluted. Carline had come silently up behind them. Roland took her by the arm and hurried her along. ‘What do you think you’re doing up here?’ he said in ungentle tones.

Her look of relief at finding him alive and unhurt turned to one of anger. ‘I came to see if you were all right,’ she said defiantly.

Guiding her down the stairs to the courtyard below, he answered, ‘We’re not so far removed from the forest a Tsurani bowman could not reduce the Duke’s household by one. I’ll not explain to your father and brothers what my reasons were for allowing you up there.’

‘Oh! Is that your only reason? You don’t want to face Father.’

He smiled and his voice softened. ‘No. Of course not.’

She returned the smile. ‘I was worried.’

Roland sat upon the lower steps and plucked at some weeds growing near the base of the stones, pulling them out and tossing them aside. ‘Little reason for that. Arutha has seen I’ll not risk much.’

Placatingly, Carline said, ‘Still, this is an important post. If they attack here, you’ll have to hold with a small number until reinforcements come.’