Stephen Lawhead - The sword and the flame

Lord Ameronis was summoned from his bedchamber as soon as the first flames appeared in the ward yard-a fireball had fallen on the stable roof and burst, scattering flames among the straw and fodder below. Frightened horses screamed and bucked as squires and footmen braved the flames in an effort to bring the horses to safety, thus turning the entire inner ward yard into a sea of churning chaos. Another fire burned near the kitchens.

Ameronis stood with his fists on his hips, barking orders to those around him, all the while seething with a rage at the attack under way. Up to now, the ambitious noble had considered the contest something of a game where the spoils went to the winner. Now he saw that the King’s forces were in dead earnest, and his demeanor changed abruptly.

“More buckets!” he bellowed. “Bring more buckets!” He stood in the midst of the riotous confusion, shouting above the noise as men darted everywhere in an attempt to save the stables.

The fire was not large; it had been caught in time and was soon under control. Ameronis left the inner ward yard and mounted the battlements, bristling with anger. “Any luck with the archers?” he asked his commander, Sir Bolen.

The young knight turned, his face ruddy in the torchlight and the lights of several small fires in the outer ward. “No, sir; the enemy is too far removed.”

“Any damage?”

“None in the outer ward. The fireballs seem intended mostly to harass us. There is no real hurt. The fires are easily extinguished.”

“Not so easily!” snorted Ameronis. “If you had been with me in the inner ward yard just now, you would have seen the ‘harassment’ these missiles can do.” He glared out between the merlons at the torchlight glimmering on the field; this marked the position of the catapults. Just then a fireball smashed into the gatehouse turret and rolled down its pitched roof onto the wall A dozen warriors threw down their weapons and dodged away.

“I could send a contingent out to put a stop to this,” suggested the young commander. In the burning firelight his eyes glittered with the excitement of a man ready to brave any danger in order to distinguish himself and win favor in the eyes of his superior.

“What? And open the gates to them? That is just what they want us to do!” shouted Ameronis. “Use your head, man! We will weather the attack as best as can and wait until morning. Attack as best as can and wait until morning.”

“I am sorry, sir,” muttered the young knight. “I only thought-”

“Wait!” said Ameronis, glancing up and down along the battlements. “Who is standing watch on the other walls?”

“No one…” replied the commander hesitantly. “When the alarm was sounded, they must have come to help-”

“Send the tower watch back to their posts at once! Have them report to me immediately if they see anything amiss! Hurry! Who knows what these dogs of King’s men may be about!”

“Did you find anything?” Theido lay on his stomach at the edge of the cliff and called down to the man dangling on a rope below him.

“There is a narrow shingle along the water’s edge, sir. It runs all along the bank below the cliff. We have sent men to scout it both directions, but have found nothing yet.”

“Continue,” said Theido, rising to his feet. Just then there came a voice from the battlements above. “Halt! Who is there?” Theido’s heart clenched in his chest.

Half-crouched, half-standing, he remained rock-still, hoping that whoever was above him would not see him directly below, an easy target for even the poorest marksman.

“Hey!” called the voice above. “Bring your torch over here! I think there is someone below.”

Theido heard footsteps come running as a second guard joined the first with his torch. He held his breath, fully expecting an arrow to come singing to its mark at any second. One heartbeat… two… three. Then-“There’s nothing down there, maggot-brain,” said a second voice drifting down from the battlements. “You are seeing shadows and thinking them soldiers. Get to your post, and do not call me again unless you see something more than a shadow on the rocks.”

The first soldier grumbled and moved on to his place in the tower. Theido released his breath and drew back to the wall to wait. From either side of him at a distance of no more than twenty paces, he heard the soft footfall of his archers withdrawing and realized that as soon as the guard had discovered him, two arrows had been notched to their strings and those strings drawn taut. Had either guard so much as squeaked a warning, the man would have been dead before the words were out of his mouth.

Theido drew his cloak over him and leaned back against the hard curtain. Random shouts still echoed from beyond the walls of the castle, but the initial frenzy which had greeted the first volley of fireballs had died away. To the east the sky held a lighter hue, tinting the sky iron-blue against the black. Hurry, whispered Theido to himself. Hurry! Dawn is coming, and we must soon be gone or be discovered. Hurry, there is so little time.

STARS DIMMED in the east, and their numbers dwindled as the sky lightened to dawn. Ronsard and his force still manned the catapults, but the fireballs soared less frequently now. “We are running out of bales,” reported one of his men. “These are the last.”

Ronsard cocked an eye skyward and said, “The others should have returned by now. Hold as long as you can. With any luck they will come before first light.”

Hurry! thought Ronsard. Hurry, before they find out… For one fleeting heartbeat he wondered, What if they have already found out? He dismissed the thought instantly telling himself, Somehow we would have known.

The sandy-haired knight turned his eyes toward the ragged line of forest as it sloped down to meet the river. From here Theido and his party would return. But he saw no one. No figure hailed him from the trees, and no messenger came to tell him that all was well, that the raiding party had returned safely.

“Come on,” whispered Ronsard. “It will be daylight soon!”

The catapults flashed, hurling their flaming missiles to the castle walls which could be plainly seen now, showing dull and imposing in the feeble light. But the interval between projectiles had stretched to several minutes, and though the enemy still lined the walls and scurried to put out each new blaze, they did not shout and rail at the foe anymore, but merely watched with casual interest as if bored by the long-running spectacle.

There was a shout and a man came running up from the second machine, saying, “Sir, the bales are gone, and we have nothing else to throw at them.” He waited for Ronsard’s leading.

“We must continue a little longer. Send some men back to camp, and ready some more bales; have the others there help. We will need enough for both catapults. Meanwhile, we must keep the attention of those on the wall; so have your men move to a new position while you are waiting for your amunition.” He pointed across the field. “There-more toward the center.”

The soldier hurried off to carry out his orders. Ronsard crossed his arms on his chest and frowned at the sky. “You should have been back long ago, Theido. Shall I send a search party after you?”

He decided to wait a little longer and began pacing back and forth between the catapults, glancing now and again toward the fringe of forest where he expected his comrade to emerge at any moment.

The sun burned nearer the horizon, flaming the sky bright red beneath the gray clouds. The outlines of the castle could be made out clearly now, and black smoke drifted on the rising wind from the numerous small fires they had set through the night. At least, thought Ronsard grimly, we have kept them busy this night, and none of our own have been hurt.