Stephen Lawhead - The sword and the flame

With shouts and curses the soldiers threw themselves at the unrelenting iron until, exhausted, they fell back panting into the tunnel. When one man faltered, another took his place as the assault on the portcullis continued.

ALL AROUND him on the ground lay the bodies of the wounded, broken, and dying, some crushed beneath timbers and stones, many more pierced through with arrows. Still the King strove to rally his flagging forces to remount the assault. But, disheartened by their lack of success in gaining the walls, and dismayed at the loss of their numbers, the Dragon King’s army shrank from the walls, and Quentin was forced to withdraw to regroup his forces.

At the first sign of the King’s retreat, a cheer went up from Ameronis’s men on the wall. The lord himself joined in the exultation, and called after the receding troops, “Have you had enough, and so soon? Come back; let us finish it for once and all!” This brought more cheers from his men. So Ameronis leaned out over the wall and called still louder to the delight of his army, “The Dragon King slinks away like a scalded hound-with his ears bobbed and his tail between his legs! Come back and fight like a man of honor!”

Up in the gatehouse turret Lords Kelkin, Gorloic, and Denellon watched as the King’s forces retreated from the field. “It is going badly for them,” remarked Relkin. “Would that I had my knights with me now; I know which side I would join.”

“I, too, would add my aid to the King,” said Denellon. “I have seen enough of Ameronis’s ways. His true face is revealed in war, and it is not a face I would care to see under the crown.”

“Nor I,” put in Lord Gorloic. “But though my knights guard my own fortress and are far from here, I still have a sword, and an arm to use it! And while I live, both belong to the Dragon King!”

“Aye!” agreed the others. “So be it!”

“But,” said Kelkin, “we are only three. Ameronis and Lupollen have the advantage over us. We would be cut to pieces before we put hand to hilt.”

“Then we will have to find another way to better them. We cannot do that here. Come, my friends,” said Gorloic, “time is fleeting and we have work to do!”

“Are ye fair certain this be the wisest course, young master?” asked Pym as the two rode along through the forest. “What will yer mother say when she learns we’uns ‘as let ye follow the King to battle-and we’uns without so much as a stick to shake at the foemen.”

“Be quiet,” replied Renny. “I’m thinking.”

“Yer lost! We’uns’ve been riding these woods fer near a day and no sign of the King. We’uns’d best go back.”

“ ‘Ee go back if ‘ee want to,” said Renny stubbornly. “I mean to fight for the King.”

Pym sighed-as he had sighed a hundred times in the last twelve hours-and scratched his grizzled head. “Well, if ye have yer heart set on it, there’ll be no persuading ye-not as I haven’t tried, neither. But ye must admit it: we’uns is lost.”

“Not lost,” replied Renny. “We just lack direction.”

They had left Askelon the day before when the King rode out, following him as he himself had followed his army. But the two of them on Tarky were no match for the spirited Blazer and were soon outdistanced and left behind. Pym had been for turning back, but his young companion pursued his course with single-minded determination, bent on serving the Dragon King beside those noble knights he had met when they tried to return the horse.

The two were resting along a little-used pathway through the southeastern reaches of Pelgrin when they heard the jingle of a horse’s tack and the murmur of voices on the trail ahead.

“Someone’s coming!” Renny jumped up and peered into the green shadows. “A horse and rider! We’ll ask him how to find Ameron Castle.”

Closer, they saw not one, but two riders trotting lightly along the pathway. Boldly Renny stepped out into the center of the trail so that they would stop, and in a moment he looked up into the face of a black-bearded nobleman astride a sleek black charger.

“Ho! Who goes there?” said the nobleman with a wink to his companion, a knight with a broadsword on his thigh and a shirt of mail.

“A highwayman by all appearances,” returned his companion.

“Please, my lord,” said Renny, speaking up with all the courage he could muster. “We need help.”

“We are true men,” replied the lord. “You have but to ask, and if it be within our power it is granted. But ask quickly, for we are about important business.”

Seeing how the lord received the lad, Pym brought Tarky and came to stand beside Renny. “This is my friend,” said the boy. “We are on our way to join the King’s army at Ameron-on-Sipleth.”

“We’uns’ve lost our way, yer lordship,” added the tinker. Tip barked once to affirm their plight.

The nobleman leaned forward in the saddle and studied the travelers closely. “What do you know of the King’s army?”

Pym grew tentative. “Only that they marched out from Askelon two-no, three days ago sunset time. The King followed last night, and we’uns followed him.”

Renny nodded. “ ‘Ee goes to claim his sword back from them that took it!”

The lord glanced at his companion, then back at the two before him. Recognition came to him like a flash of lightning out of a clear blue sky. “Why, I know you,” he said, looking Pym up and down. “You’re the tinker in the road.”

“And I know ye, too, yer lordship. Ye were the one as didn’t want a poor tinker to come to no harm.”

“That bruise on your jaw, man-did Ameronis do that to you?”

“To say he didn’t would tell a lie, yer lordship. That he did, right enough.” Pym rubbed his still-swollen jaw. “When he took the sword.”

“Ah, so it was a sword you held under those rags, was it?” He watched Pym carefully. “The King’s sword?”

Pym nodded. “I don’t know if it be the Shining One or no, but there’s no end of them that thinks it, sir.”

“It must be!” said the nobleman to the knight beside him. “And Ameronis took it, you say?”

Pym nodded. Renny spoke up, “And we mean to help the King get it back. ‘Ee needs it to save the Prince!”

“What’s this? What about the Prince?”

“It be the ransom, yer lordship. The sword must be delivered to High Temple tomorrow middleday or the young Highness is to be killed.”

“Does Ameronis know about this?” asked the nobleman.

“We’uns can’t say if he does or he don’t. But all Askelon knows now. It’s all anyone talks of, ye see. The word went out yesterday when the Dragon King rode out. Folks ‘as said he went to claim his sword to save his son, ye see.”

“Yes, I see.” The lord rose up in the saddle and turned to the knight. “Ride back and call out my men-all of them, and my tenants, too. As many as have weapons. If any lack, let them be equipped out of my armory.”

“Yes, Lord Edfrith,” replied the knight, taking up the reins and turning his mount.

“Meet us at Castle Ameron. I go there at once.”

“Alone?”

“I will hardly be alone, sir. I have two stout comrades with me here; no man in the realm could be better served. Go and bring my troops. The King will need all the help we can provide if he goes against Ameronis. Hurry!”

“Ronsard and his contingent are trapped, Sire. A few of our men managed to reach the turret to join him before the tower was taken again,” explained one of the King’s commanders. “They fight now just to stay alive; we cannot look for any aid from them.”

Quentin nodded gravely and dismissed the knight, turning his eyes toward the battlefield. His surgeons carried litters bearing the wounded and dying. Ameronis’s troops looked on from the wall, awaiting the next assault, content for the moment merely to watch and wait and conserve their strength.