Raymond E. Feist - The Complete Riftwar Saga Trilogy - Magician, Silverthorn, A Darkness at Sethanon

Arutha said dryly, ‘So much for an officer’s dignity.’

‘Well,’ said Fannon, ‘I think it is time to give them another lesson in Kingdom warfare.’ He raised his arm high above his head. ‘Catapults!’ he cried.

Answering flags waved from the tops of the towers along the walls and atop the keep. He dropped his arm, and the mighty engines were fired. On the smaller towers, ballistae, looking like giant crossbows, shot spearlike missiles, while atop the keep, huge mangonels flung buckets of heavy stones. The rain of stones and missiles landed amid the Tsurani, crushing heads and limbs, tearing ragged holes in their lines. The screams of wounded men could be heard by the defenders, while the catapult crew quickly rewound and loaded their deadly engines.

The Tsurani milled about in confusion and, when the second flight of stones and missiles struck, broke and ran. A cheer went up from the defenders on the wall, then died when the Tsurani regrouped beyond the range of the engines.

Gardan said, ‘Swordmaster, I think they mean to wait us out.’

‘I think you’re wrong,’ said Arutha, pointing. The other looked: a large number of Tsurani detached themselves from the main body, moving forward to stop just outside missile range.

‘They look to be readying an attack,’ said Fannon, ‘but why with only a part of their force?’

A soldier appeared and said, ‘Highness, there are no signs of Tsurani along any of the other positions.’

Arutha looked to Fannon. ‘And why attack only one wall?’ After a few minutes, Arutha said, ‘I’d judge a thousand.’

‘More likely twelve hundred,’ said Fannon. He saw scaling ladders appearing at the rear of the attackers, moving forward. ‘Anytime now.’

A thousand defenders waited inside the walls. Other men of Crydee still manned outlying garrisons and lookout positions, but the bulk of the Duchy’s strength was here. Fannon said, ‘We can withstand this force as long as the walls remain unbreached. Less than a ten-to-one advantage we can deal with.’

More messengers came from the other walls. ‘They still mount nothing along the east, north, and south, Swordmaster,’ one reported.

‘They seem determined to do this the hard way.’ Fannon looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Little of what we’ve seen is understandable. Death raids, marshaling within catapult range, wasting time with games of honor. Still, they are not without skill, and we can take nothing for granted.’ To the guard he said, ‘Pass the word to keep alert on the other walls, and be ready to move to defend should this prove a feint.’

The messengers left, and the waiting continued. The sun moved across the sky, until an hour before sunset, when it sat at the backs of the attackers. Suddenly horns blew and drums beat, and in a rush the Tsurani broke toward the walls. The catapults sang, and great holes appeared in the lines of attackers. Still they came, until they moved within bow range of the patiently waiting defenders. A storm of arrows fell upon the attackers, and to a man the front rank collapsed, but those behind came on, large brightly colored shields held overhead as they rushed the walls. A half-dozen times men fell, dropping scaling ladders, only to have others grab them up and continue.

Tsurani bowmen answered the bowmen from the walls with their own shower of arrows, and men of Crydee fell from the battlements. Arutha ducked behind the walls of the castle as the arrows sped overhead, then he risked a glance between the merlons of the wall. A horde of attackers filled his field of vision, and a ladder top suddenly appeared before him. A soldier near the Prince grabbed the ladder top and pushed it away, aided by a second using a pole arm. Arutha could hear the screams of the Tsurani as they fell from the ladder. The first soldier to the ladder then fell backward, a Tsurani arrow protruding from his eye, and disappeared into the courtyard.

A sudden shout went up from below, and Arutha sprang to his feet, risking a bowshaft by looking down. All along the base of the wall, Tsurani warriors were withdrawing, running back to the safety of their own lines.

‘What are they doing?’ wondered Fannon.

The Tsurani ran until they were safe from the catapults, then stopped, turned, and formed up ranks. Officers were walking up and down before the men, exhorting them. After a moment the assembled Tsurani cheered.

‘Damn me!’ came from Arutha’s left, and he glimpsed Amos Trask at his shoulder, a seaman’s cutlass in his hand. ‘The maniacs are congratulating themselves on getting slaughtered.’

The scene below was grisly. Tsurani soldiers lay scattered around like toys thrown by a careless giant child. A few moved feebly and moaned, but most were dead.

Fannon said, ‘I’d wager they lost a hundred or more. This makes no sense.’ He said to Roland and Martin, ‘Check the other walls.’ They both hurried off. ‘What are they doing now?’ he said as he watched the Tsurani. In the red glow of sunset, he could see them still in lines, while men lit torches and passed them around. ‘Surely they don’t intend to attack after sunset? They’ll fall over themselves in the dark.’

‘Who knows what they plan?’ said Arutha. ‘I’ve never heard of an attack being staged this badly.’

Amos said, ‘Beggin’ the Prince’s pardon, but I know a thing or two about warcraft – from my younger days – and I’ve also never heard of this like before. Even the Keshians, who’ll throw away dog soldiers like a drunken seaman throws away his money, even they wouldn’t try a frontal assault like this. I’d keep a weather eye out for trickery.’

‘Yes,’ answered Arutha. ‘But of what sort?’

Throughout the night the Tsurani attacked, rushing headlong against the walls, to die at the base. Once a few made the top of the walls, but they were quickly killed and the ladders thrown back. With dawn the Tsurani withdrew.

Arutha, Fannon, and Gardan watched as the Tsurani reached the safety of their own lines, beyond catapult and bow range. With the sunrise a sea of colorful tents appeared, and the Tsurani retired to their campsites. The defenders were astonished at the number of Tsurani dead along the base of the castle walls.

After a few hours the stink of the dead became overpowering, Fannon consulted with an exhausted Arutha as the Prince was readying for an overdue sleep. ‘The Tsurani have made no attempt to reclaim their fallen.’

Arutha said, ‘We have no common language in which to parley, unless you mean to send Tully out under a flag of truce.’

Fannon said, ‘He’d go, of course, but I’d not risk him. Still, the bodies could be trouble in a day or two. Besides the stink and flies, with unburied dead comes disease. It’s the gods’ way of showing their displeasure over not honoring the dead.’

‘Then,’ said Arutha, pulling on the boot he had just taken off, ‘we had best see what can be done.’

He returned to the gate and found Gardan already making plans to remove the bodies. A dozen volunteers were waiting by the gate to go and gather the dead for a funeral pyre.

Arutha and Fannon reached the walls as Gardan led the men through the gate. Archers lined the walls to cover the retreat of the men outside the walls if necessary, but it soon became evident the Tsurani were not going to trouble the party. Several came to the edge of their lines, to sit and watch the Kingdom soldiers working.

After a half hour it was clear the men of Crydee would not be able to complete the work before they were exhausted. Arutha considered sending more men outside, but Fannon refused, thinking it what the Tsurani were waiting for. ‘If we have to move a large party back through the gate, it might prove disastrous. If we close the gate, we lose men outside, and if we leave it open too long, the Tsurani breach the castle.’ Arutha was forced to agree, and they settled down to watch Gardan’s men working in the hot morning.