Sam Barone: Dawn of Empire

The fire roared louder now, and he saw thick, greasy smoke flowing over the top. The shimmering flames leapt higher than the gate.

Grond remained on the top, making sure the men kept tossing stones, while on the lower parapet men risked arrows to hurl water through the arrow slits. Nevertheless the oil — soaked wood continued to burn, and the Alur Meriki kept bringing up more and more bundles of dry grass to feed the burning gate.

Esk kar watched as the flames steadily ate away at the gate’s beams.

But no villagers left their labors and more men and women kept coming, carrying anything that could be used as a weapon. Despite the confusion, everyone was doing their duty.

He saw a break in the line of men carrying water up to the parapet.

Grasping a bucket, Esk kar carried it to the upper parapet, then poured it over the side where Grond pointed. Another voice shouted for Esk kar’s attention. He looked over to see Sisuthros standing at the back of the south tower.

“Captain, they’re massing their warriors,” Sisuthros shouted, cupping his hands to make sure his voice carried. “They’re bringing up a ram, getting ready to attack.”

Esk kar wiped sweat from his brow and took a look, keeping his head back far enough so that the bowmen below couldn’t see him. He studied the men moving into position. Something looked different. Esk kar moved his head a little higher, then dropped down as an arrow snapped through the slit and glanced off his helmet.

“Grond, I need to see this.” Esk kar snatched up a shield and raised it over the gate, holding it an inch or two above the top, ignoring the arrows that thudded into it. Behind the shield, he rose almost to his full height.

The barbarians were massing across the ditch, forming a V- shaped line of shields and wagons that curved slightly away from the ditch. The Alur Meriki had concentrated their fighters here, drawing most of their warriors away from the other walls and focusing their attention on the gate.

The attackers were betting all on breaking through here.

Sisuthros joined him. “I’ve ordered every man I could from the rest of the walls,” he gasped, “and told Maldar and the others to do the same.”

Esk kar noticed fresh soldiers arriving on the parapet, each one carrying a basket of stones in addition to his bow.

“Keep the towers at full strength. Have them start killing the warriors at the base of the gate, even if they have to lean out to do it. We’ve got to drive them away from the gate!”

Raising his voice, Esk kar shouted to the defenders. “Hold fast! More soldiers are coming. And the barbarians are weakening!”

A few cheered but most just looked at him, exhaustion and despair in their faces. But no one stopped working and then, as bowmen began arriving, they appeared to take heart.

Esk kar climbed down to the first parapet, creaking and swaying even more ominously as the ropes continued to stretch. A great shout came from outside the gate. After a quick look, Esk kar ducked his head back. For once, no arrows flew in through the slit, though he heard at least one strike the gate nearby. Orak’s archers were taking their toll. But a mass of barbarians, at least sixty or seventy warriors, had moved forward into the ditch, carrying with them a great ram made from a huge tree trunk. The ram swayed beneath a wooden frame, suspended by a mass of ropes. Warriors carrying shields held high protected those who bore the burden, and the ram reached the base of the gate without falling to the earth. Soon it would begin hammering the structure where the fire had done the most damage.

The fire — weakened wood couldn’t take too many blows from something that size. A renewed storm of Alur Meriki arrows flew at any target that exposed itself, as the attackers tried to protect the warriors carrying the ram.

The sound of hammering made him look down. At least twenty villagers labored there. Men with mauls nailed a notched plank into position.

Others, struggling under the weight of a beam, moved forward to angle the log into the notch. Carpenters immediately began hammering it home, fastening the beam to the plank. Everyone ignored the thick black smoke curling around their feet, though many began coughing, choking on the stench of the burning oil.

Suddenly the gate shook as if a mighty fist had struck it. Two men cried out as they lost their balance and toppled backward from the upper parapet. Esk kar might have followed but for Grond’s huge hand, covered in blood, that reached over and grasped him. Esk kar had barely recovered before another blow struck the gate.

Risking another glance through the slit, Esk kar saw a near — solid wall of shields protecting those manning the ram. The attackers might be taking terrible losses, but they fought on. He hadn’t killed enough to make them lose hope, give up, before they broke through.

The gate reeled again, this time accompanied by the sound of splintering wood. Villagers screamed at each other to hurry.

“Do what you can here, Grond, but don’t stay too long. Be off the parapet before it falls. The gate’s going to be forced. I’m going down to get the men ready.” Once again, Esk kar swung off the parapet, holding for a moment until he could drop all the way to the ground. He landed heavily enough to fall to his knees.

Getting to his feet he stared at the base of the gate. The ram was breaking through. The heavy beam, hammered in place on the left side of the gate only moments ago, had already been knocked out of position, and the ram’s head had crashed through part of the planking that supported it.

Maldar ran up, with another half — dozen men, bows in hand.

“Form a line here, Maldar,” Esk kar ordered.

The gate shuddered again. A section of the lower parapet gave way, sending men scrambling to avoid its imminent collapse. Esk kar studied the gate, watching it vibrate every few moments as the ram struck again and again in a powerful rhythm. The leftmost portion looked weakest, but the right side stood mostly intact, its main brace firmly in position.

Corio, his eyes streaming from the smoke, tripped over the fallen beam.

Esk kar seized his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Corio, brace the upper parapet before it collapses, too, or we’ll have no men manning the slits.

See if you can keep it in place, even if they break through underneath.

Hurry!”

Esk kar gave the man no time to reply, just shoved him on his way. Another file of five soldiers arrived, and Esk kar called them to him, shouting for shields. Grond came scrambling down from the upper parapet with two of Esk kar’s original bodyguards.

Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, Esk kar turned to his men. “Give your bows to the villagers and find shields. We’ll need swords and spears for this work.”

Grond pointed the two guards toward weapons stored against the nearest house. They returned in moments, carrying four shields.

Esk kar looked back at the gate. The left side of the once — solid gate had splintered badly. The giant logs, weakened by axe and fire, trembled and shook from the ram’s mighty blows. A glance at the towers and walls on each side showed them crowded with archers desperately trying to stop the rammers.

They would be too late. The Alur Meriki were going to open a breach.

But it might not be a large opening, and maybe it could be held. As he watched, the leftmost side of the lower parapet swung down with a screech of nails and snapping of ropes, accompanied by the shouts of men who jumped or tumbled to the ground. It collapsed slowly and dropped directly in front of the opening. The same blow pitched two men off the upper platform as it swayed precariously from its ropes. That platform still held, though it shook and rattled under each blow of the ram.