Conn Iggulden: The Death Of Kings

He signaled with a flat palm for the men to crouch as one of the sentry torches stopped close to their position. Sounds would carry easily, despite the rhythmic screech of the crickets in the grass. After a few moments, the sentry light moved on again and Julius caught the eyes of the closest officers, nodding to each other to begin the attack.

He stood and his heart beat faster. His men rose with him, one of them grunting slightly with the weight of the sturdy ladder. They began to trot up the broken rock of the south approach. Despite the muffling cloths on their sandals and armor, the thud of feet seemed loud to Julius as he broke into a light run beside his men. Pelitas was in the lead, at the head of the first ladder, but the order changed second by second as they scrambled up the uneven surface, denied even the light of the moon to see the ground. Gaditicus had chosen the night well.

Each of the ladders was passed quickly through the hands of the man in front, the trailing end planted close to the wall for maximum height. The first man held it steady while the second swarmed up into the darkness. In only a few seconds, the first group was over and the second ready to go, their climb made harder as the ladders slipped and scraped on the stone. Julius caught one as it moved, and bunched his shoulders to hold it until the weight at the top had gone, appreciating the sharp reality of levers in the process. All along the line, the soldiers were disappearing into the fort and still the alarm had not been given.

He shifted the ladder until the padded head caught on something, and gripped it tightly as he climbed, having to lean close with the sharp angle. He didn't pause at the top in case archers were sighting on him. There was no time to judge the situation as he slid over the crown and dropped into the darkness below.

He hit and rolled to find his men around him, waiting. Before them was a short stretch of scrub grass, grown long over ancient stones. It was a killing ground for archers and they needed to be out of it quickly. Julius saw the other units had not paused and had crossed to the inner wall. He frowned. It stood as tall as the first, only twenty feet away, but this time the ladders were outside and they were trapped between them, as the ancient designers had planned. He swore softly to himself as the men looked to him for a quick decision.

Then a bell began to ring in the fort, the heavy tones booming out into the darkness.

“What now, sir?” Pelitas said, his voice sounding bored.

Julius took a deep breath, feeling his own nerves settle slightly. “We're dead if we stay here, and they'll be throwing torches down soon to light us up for archers. You're best in the rigging, Peli, so get your armor off and see if you can carry a rope up the inner wall. The stones are old, there should be a few gaps for you.” He turned to the others as Pelitas began to undo the lacing that held his armor together.

“We need to get that ladder back. If Peli falls, we'll be easy targets for the archers. It's a fifteen-foot wall, but we should be able to lift the lightest pair of you to the top, where they can reach over and drag it up.”

He ignored the growing sounds of panic and battle inside the fort. At least the rebels were concentrating on Gaditicus's attack, but time had to be running out for the soldiers on his side.

The men understood the plan quickly and the heaviest three linked arms and braced their backs against the dark stones of the outer wall. Two more climbed up them and turned carefully so they too were able to lean against the wall behind them. The three at the bottom grunted as the weight came to bear on their armor. The metal plates bit into the men's shoulders with the weight from above, but without them there was a good chance of snapping a collarbone. They bore the discomfort in silence, but Julius saw they could not hold for long.

He turned to the last pair, who had taken off their armor and stripped down to underclothing and bare feet. Both grinned with excitement as Julius nodded to them, and they set about climbing the tower of men with the same speed and efficiency that they brought to the rigging of Accipiter . He drew his sword as he waited for them, straining to see into the darkness above.

Twenty feet away, on the inner wall, Pelitas pressed his face against the cold, dry stone and began a short and desperate prayer. His fingers shook as they held a tiny space between slabs, and he fought not to make any noise as he heaved himself higher, his feet scrabbling for purchase. His breath hissed between his teeth, so loudly he felt sure someone would come to investigate. For a moment, he regretted bringing the heavy gladius as well as the rope wrapped around his chest, though he couldn't think of anything worse than reaching the top without a weapon. Falling off onto his head in a great crash was a similarly unpleasant prospect, however.

Above him, he could see a dark lip of stone dimly outlined against the glow of torches as the fort sprang to defend itself from the fifty led by Gaditicus. He sneered silently to himself. Professional soldiers would already have sent scouts around the perimeter to check for a second force or an ambush. It was good to take pride in your work, he thought.

His hand searched blindly above, finally finding a good grip where a corner had crumbled away over the centuries. His arms quivered with exhaustion as Pelitas placed a palm at last on the top slab and hung for a moment, listening for anyone standing close enough to gut him as he pulled himself into the inner fort.

There was nothing, even when he held his breath to listen. He nodded to himself and clenched his jaw as if he could bite through the fear he always felt at these times, then heaved up, swinging his legs around and in. He dropped quickly into a crouch and drew the gladius inch by inch, to avoid sound.

He was in a well of shadow that left him invisible on the edge of a narrow platform with steps leading down to the other buildings on two sides. The remains of a meal on the ground showed him there had been a sentry in place, but the man had obviously gone to repel the front attack instead of staying where he had been told. In his head, Pelitas tutted at the lack of discipline.

Moving slowly, he unwound the heavy rope from his chest and shoulders and tied one end to a rusted iron ring set in the stone. He tugged on it and smiled, letting the loops drop into the dark.

Julius saw that one of the other units was pressed close to the inner wall, with the last following his idea to retrieve the ladders. Next time, they would have a rope attached to the top rung to throw over the wall, the last man pulling the whole thing after them, but it was easy to be wise in hindsight. Gaditicus should have spent more time learning the layout of the fort, though that was difficult enough, as nothing overlooked the steep Mytilene hill. Julius dismissed the doubt as disloyal, but a part of him knew that if he were ordering the attack, he would not have sent his men to take the fort until he knew everything there was to know about it.

The faces of the three men at the bottom of the tower were streaked in sweat and contorted with shuddering pain. Above, he could hear scratching sounds and then the length of ladder came sliding down to them. Quickly, Julius braced it against the wall and the tower dismantled down it, leaving the three at the bottom gasping in relief and rolling their shoulders against cramp. Julius went to each of them, clapping arms in thanks and whispering the next stage. Together, they crossed to the inner wall.

A voice yelled close in the darkness of the inner fort above them, and Julius's heart hammered. He did not understand the words, but the panic was obvious. Surprise had finally gone but they had the ladder, and as he flattened himself against the wall, he saw Pelitas hadn't failed or fallen.