Honor Crowned (10 page)

             
“If any of you come up with a good idea, let me know.  For now, if I tell you to shoot at a specific area, don’t hesitate.”  Jorem paused, and rested his hands on his hips.  “How long do we have before the creatures get here?”

             
Conrad scratched his chin before answering.  “Half a mark, maybe a mark, no more.”

             
“Let’s get things closed up and get everyone in place,” Jorem said as he turned and entered the courtyard.

Chapter XVI

             
The houses and shops had been built right up against the inner wall.  The only way to get to the parapets was through trap doors in the ceilings of the buildings.  Once on the rooftops, the top of the wall could be accessed by short ladders spaced around the wall.  Jorem positioned himself near the gate, giving himself a good view of the entire clearing.

             
A young boy was already there, a bow clenched tightly in his hand.  Seeing that Jorem had no bow, the boy thrust out his for him to take.  Jorem forestalled the boy with a smile.

             
“What’s your name?” Jorem asked in as friendly a manner as he could.

             
“Lem, sire,” the boy said timidly.  “You can have my bow if you’d like.”

             
Jorem shook his head and waved off the offer.  “You keep that.  I’d wager you’re a better shot than I.”

             
A snort behind him made Jorem aware that Neth had followed.  She stood staring out at the tree line as if she’d made no sound and had no interest in his conversation.

             
Turning back to Lem, Jorem continued, “Lady Nethira tried teaching me to shoot, but I never got the hang of it.”  Jorem leaned toward Lem, feigning confidentiality.  “Truth be told, I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

             
“Not even if you were on the inside,” Neth quipped.

             
Jorem grinned at the boy to show he took no offense at the comment.  “I’ll trust your aim to get the arrows where they need to go,” Jorem said, patting Lem on the shoulder.

             
Just then a young girl came scrambling up the ladder.  She approached Neth, her face pale and her hands trembling.  The girl was dressed much as Neth was, save her clothes did not fit quite so snugly.  A long yellow braid of hair swung behind her as she walked.

             
“Lady Nethira,” the girl trembled.  “Willy’s not come back yet.”

             
“Come back from where?” Neth asked suspiciously.

             
The girl bit her lip.  When she saw Jorem listening in, she swallowed hard.  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.  Neth knelt down on one knee and took hold of her trembling hands.

             
“Nell,” Neth said in a calm voice, “where did Willy go?”

             
“He went to set traps in the trees.” Nell’s voice quavered and tears began streaming down her face.

             
“Was he alone?”

             
“No.” Nell shook her head as she spoke.  “Sam and Terry went with him.”

             
A loud bellow erupted from beyond the tree line, followed by a number of screeches.  Without hesitation, Jorem vaulted off the wall to a roof, not bothering with the ladder.  A quick sprint brought him to the edge of the roof.  Looking down, he saw Conrad standing near the gate with a long sharpened pole.

             
“Con!” Jorem shouted.  “I need two men with crossing boards.”

             
When Conrad looked up, Jorem continued.  “We’ve got three kids out in the trees.  If they show, we need to be ready to go after them!”

             
Conrad didn’t wait for further explanations.  He dropped his makeshift pike and went looking for help.  Jorem ascended the ladder and returned to his place on the wall.  More strange sounds came from the trees, accompanied by the sound of branches and trees snapping.  It appeared their time was up.

             
Three small figures appeared out of the trees, dashing into the clearing.  Jorem’s heart nearly stopped at the thought of the children falling into the stake-filled trench.  The children stopped just short of where the first trench lay hidden.  Jorem heard the gate swing open as he watched the children cast their eyes about, looking for the flags that marked the crossings—flags that were no longer there.

             
Before the rescuers had crossed the trench nearest the Keep, a nightmare pushed its way through the trees.  Tall, nearly twice the height of a grown man, the creature bellowed in rage.  Long arms swung at its sides, with huge hooked claws protruding where fingers should have been.  Long brown, coarse hair covered the creature save for the face.  Bulbous black eyes and a gaping maw, with narrow slits for a nose, were covered with glistening black skin.  The men with the boards were just crossing the first hidden trench when the creature spied the children.  The men had no chance of getting to the children in time.

             
Jorem’s vision swam as he heard an angry voice shout, “NO!”  It wasn’t until much later that he realized it was he who had shouted.

             
The scene became surreal.  Images blurred at the edge of his vision.  No sound penetrated the pounding in his ears.  The creature neared one of the children.  Its claws swung forward, catching the child up and tossing it over the heads of the other two.  Jorem leaped, drew his sword and struck.  He had no recollection of descending the wall or crossing the clearing.

             
The creature’s body slumped to the ground, its head rolling limply to the side.  Jorem found himself on his knees, frozen in place.  Dark brown ichor began pooling around him as it pulsed out of the deep gash in the beast’s neck.  The creature convulsed one last time and was still, its sightless eyes staring up into an empty sky.

             
A screech from beyond the trees brought Jorem back to his senses.  As he stood, he saw the two children staring at him, transfixed by the sight.  The other child lay crumpled just beyond them.  A branch snapped somewhere in the nearby trees.  Hector approached the final trench, carefully placing the board across it.

             
Wiping his blade on the creature’s carcass, Jorem moved quickly to the children, a boy and a girl, both seemingly paralyzed.  None too gently, Jorem pushed them toward Hector.

             
“Go!  Get to the Keep!” Jorem ordered.  “We have no time!”

             
Jorem scooped up the third child and ran for the crossing board.  Child in one hand, sword in the other, he ran across the first trench and dashed to the next, Hector right on his heels, pulling up the boards as he went.  They barely reached the gate when monsters began swarming out of the forest.

             
Handing the child to another, Jorem quickly made his way back up to the top of the wall.  When he got there, Nell was waiting, wide-eyed.

             
“Is Willy…?” she gulped.

             
“I don’t know,” Jorem replied.  “I didn’t—.” He paused. “Maybe you should be with him.”

             
After the girl left, Neth looked at Jorem and shook her head.  “I can’t believe you jumped off the wall!  When did you learn to move with such speed?”

             
Jorem didn’t recall doing any such thing and could only shrug in reply.

             
“And they call
me
crazy.”

             
A loud shriek drew their attention back to the clearing.  Several monsters had already fallen into the first trench.  The other monsters pressed on without pause.  Heedless of the now exposed trench, others fell to their death until the trench was filled and those behind trod over them.  A thunderous twang sang out and one of the largest of the creatures fell to the ground, a huge tree-like spike protruding from its chest.

             
Jorem looked across the top of the gate to see Jacobs scrambling to reload the power bow.  A slight tingling at the back of his neck caused Jorem turn back toward the carnage taking place in the clearing. Already they had reached the third of the first set of trenches.  There were so many dead, filling the trenches and being crushed beneath the feet of those still coming. Was there no end to these things? 

             
“Magic,” Jorem murmured to himself.  “Find the magic.”

             
Jorem turned his head to the right and closed his eyes.  Slowly, he swiveled his head to the left.  Off to the far left, a sickly yellow blob moved toward the Keep.  Unhindered by the other creatures, the shimmerik was nearly halfway across the clearing.  Opening his eyes, Jorem saw nothing, no sign that danger was approaching from that side of the clearing.

             
“Lem!” Jorem called.  “Come here and notch an arrow!”

             
Lem came obediently and strung an arrow in his bow.  The boy’s face was pale as he faced toward the oncoming horde.

             
“Lem, I need you to shoot where I tell you.”

             
Lem nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

             
Jorem closed his eyes and opened them, trying to match up what he could “see” with what he could see.  A slight outcropping of rock on the crevasse rim gave some reference.  In a moment the shimmerik would cross between Lem and the rocks.

             
“There to the left,” Jorem pointed as he spoke.  “When I tell you, I want you to aim about two wagon lengths this side of the rim and shoot.”

             
“But sir, there’s nothing there.”

             
“Call me crazy, if you like, but do as I say.”

             
Jorem knew he looked foolish standing there blinking his eyes, staring intently at what appeared to be nothing.  Better foolish than dead though.  Judging distance and speed had never been his strong suit.  How many chances would he get before it was too late?

             
“Now!” Jorem said to Lem.

             
Lem let fly his arrow.  It was a fairly long shot and the arrow arched upward in the air.  A dozen or so more arrows trailed just behind it.  Others had seen Jorem pointing and had followed his lead.

             
Jorem followed Lem’s arrow intently, blinking his eyes to match the two scenes.  The arrow struck the ground just behind the yellow blob, burying itself into the soil.  Other arrows struck all around the first.  Two arrows stopped in mid-air, hanging as if suspended by a string.

             
A wail rang out above the din and the shimmerik appeared out of thin air.  Even at this distance, the sight of the thing twisted Jorem’s stomach—teeth and claws, matted yellow fur and glowing eyes, and somehow Jorem could even smell the fetid odor of the beast.  Lem and several others gasped at the sight of the creature.

             
Before Jorem could utter a word, a dozen more arrows sailed through the air.  Few missed their mark.  When the shimmerik fell, however, there were no cheers.  The sounds from the myriad of other approaching monsters left few certain they would survive.  All eyes returned to the relentless horde of creatures, clearly intent on destroying all at the Keep.

             
The creatures were now crossing the middle set of trenches, those in front falling to their death, those behind walking over the dead.  The trenches behind them were filled with dead and dying beasts.  Jorem could not fathom why they did not turn aside.  Even the lowest of farm animals, on seeing another fall into a pit, would try to avoid the pit.

             
Not so these.  They came on, heedless of the screams of those before them.  It was near torture to stand and watch.  A few arrows flew from the wall, striking the beasts at the front of the pack.

             
“Hold!” Jorem ordered.  “Save your arrows.  Let the trenches do their work.”  He had to shout to be heard over the clamor of the approaching beasts.  “No one fire until they have crossed the final stake-filled trench, save on my order.”

             
The number of creatures had dwindled dramatically.  Fewer than two dozen remained, and still they pressed on.  Jorem closed his eyes and scanned the clearing for magic and found none.  The final three deadly trenches took their toll.  A mere handful of monsters managed those barriers.  Those few were quickly cut down with a hail of arrows.

             
Several cheered as the last monster fell.  Not so Jorem.  The gore covering the clearing brought him naught but nausea.  What force had caused these creatures to march to their deaths?  It made no sense.  Nothing, not man nor beast, would willingly do such a thing were there any other choice.

             
They now had two days before an army of 300 men arrived, their intent the same as had been that of the monsters.  Two days to prepare.  The gruesomeness of the tasks to come brought bile to his throat, but vile or not, they would need to be done.

************

              The first thing Jorem did upon descending from the wall was to check on Willy and Nell.  Much to Jorem’s surprise Willy was alive; Sam, Terry and Nell were at his side.  The boy had been taken to a corner where Nell was looking after him.  He was pale and much subdued.  Whenever he tried to move, Nell was there to scold him.