The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ and your brothers.’

      ‘As do I,’ said Martin, feeling the burden settle fully on his shoulders. ‘Now, why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll try to do the same.’

      She smiled at her son, turned and started down the stairs with him behind.

      If the Keshians came before dawn, someone would rouse him. He felt out on his feet and that was before even one arrow had been unleashed, or one sword drawn in anger.

      Martin was awakened by a loud knock on the door. He had fallen asleep in his clothing, only removing his boots. He got up fast. ‘What?’

      ‘Sergeant Ruther said to wake you, sir,’ came the answer from the other side of the door.

      ‘On my way!’ shouted Martin, slipping into his boots.

      The morning was foggy, as was typical for this time of the year. The sun hadn’t yet risen from behind the distant Grey Tower Mountains to burn off the marine moisture in the air. An hour after the sun cleared the peaks behind, the town below would be in bright sunlight, but for now it was shrouded in dense mist.

      Martin was no longer content to watch from his high perch over the castle’s main entrance, above the keep’s portcullis which marked the last defence, but was now on the wall above the main gate, as close to the town as he could get.

      The original keep built by the first Duke of Crydee had been a stand-alone building, without an outer wall. It had been surrounded by a moat, which was long since filled in, and the barbican with its double iron portcullis and killing ground between them had been attached to the main entrance to the keep. The out-buildings and outer wall had been added years later, the latter having no barbican, just a simple wooden gate. As stout as it was, and for all the punishment the defenders might inflict on those below, Martin knew that eventually it would fall and everyone within the bailey between the wall and keep would be in peril.

      Sergeant Ruther said without preamble, ‘They’re down there in the town; moving cautiously from the sound of things, perhaps expecting traps.’

      ‘Pity we didn’t have time to leave some,’ said Martin.

      ‘There’s only so much you can do on short notice, sir. If we’d had some means of knowing they were coming before they hit Carse, we might have convinced some of that lot—’ he used his chin to indicate the hundreds now camped in the bailey below, ‘to come in a few days early and let us rig a welcome for the Keshians. But you do what you can, as they say.’

      Martin could only nod.

      Slowly the sounds of men, wagons and horses moving through the town grew louder. ‘Siege engines?’ asked Martin, feeling a sudden tightness in his chest and stomach.

      ‘Take a lot to knock these walls down, sir.’ Ruther pointed down to the main gate which had been reinforced during the night with a brace-work of heavy timbers.

      ‘Well, let’s see what they’re bringing in.’

      Slowly the haze lifted, then suddenly a gust of wind cleared away the morning fog and presented Martin and the other onlookers atop the walls with a clear view of what they faced.

      ‘Damn me!’ the sergeant swore.

      ‘Indeed,’ said Martin softly, not sure he was making sense of what he saw.

      A company of soldiers stood arrayed across the entire approach to the town from the castle, just out of arrow flight from any but the stoutest longbow. Martin took in their garb: a traditional Keshian metal helm with a chain metal neck piece hanging behind, a sharply pointed spear tip at the crown (effective at discouraging an enemy from dropping on them from above, he thought); a chain coat and heavy woollen trousers tucked into calf-high boots so that the fabric belled out. A leather vest was drawn over that, cinched at the waist by a heavy leather belt with an iron buckle. The combination of leather over mail would be very effective against arrows, slowing down a broad-head enough that the chain would catch it, earning the target no more than a nasty cut rather than certain death.

      Each man carried a scimitar – the traditional curved sword – and a round buckler. Every fourth man also carried a short bow slung over his shoulder.

      ‘I see no siege engines,’ Martin said.

      ‘But look what else they brought.’

      Behind the line of soldiers a flood of people could be seen coming up from the docks and going into the buildings. Men, women and children, several who seemed to be scuffling over some scavenged item or another, and among them moved what could only be wardens or marshals, breaking up fights and commanding them to go here or there.

      A runner came up the steps from below, out of breath. ‘Word from the tower, sir.’

      ‘What?’ said Martin, not taking his eyes off the scene below.

      ‘A large company has broken off and is taking the north road, but …’

      ‘But what?’

      ‘They don’t look like infantry or cavalry, sir.’

      Martin’s curiosity was piqued. ‘What do they look like?’

      ‘Well, sir, like farmers coming to market, or rather it would if they were going the other way. I mean, it looks like they’re herding cattle and sheep up the road.’

      ‘Heading to the farms, crofts, and pastures,’ said the Sergeant. ‘Well, now, isn’t that a kiss from granny?’

      Martin frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘Look what they’re bringing up.’

      What appeared to be a company of engineers was hurrying up the road, while horsemen drove the milling men, women, and children out of the street, making way. They were carrying building materials unlike anything Martin had seen before.

      The line of infantry parted, letting the engineers through, and then Martin saw what they were putting together. ‘It’s a barricade.’

      ‘The bastards just walked in and took the town, sir. Now they’re telling us to sit here and rot, or sally forth and drive them to the harbour.’

      ‘They’re not going to attack?’ asked Martin, now completely confused.

      ‘Why should they? They’ll just sit and let us starve.’

      In the distance a great rumbling could be heard. The sergeant turned to the young runner. ‘Joey, back up you go and find out what that is, then come back, straight away, there’s a good lad.’

      The boy ran off and Ruther said, ‘Well, it’s clear whatever else they have in mind, they mean to stay. They brought a whole damn town with them.’

      After a few minutes Joey returned. ‘They’re unloading some big machines by the docks. Kelton says they look like trebuchets.’

      Kelton was the soldier Ruther had put up in the tower because he had the sharpest eyes in the garrison.

      ‘Well, if that’s what he says they are, then that’s what they are. Maybe they’re not going to try to starve us out after all. But СКАЧАТЬ