Yonkel might have been the first to see the Buldorian ships, but Brother Alber gave the alarm. He happened to be in the cathedral bell tower. There had been signs of a leak in the cathedral roof the last time it rained on Godsday, and the abbot asked him to see if he could find the source. From the openings in the tower, he could look down on much of the cathedral roof. He hoped to spot a broken or misaligned tile or anything out of place, the alternative being to go out on the roof and inspect each tile, one at a time. He had done this before and left that option as a last resort. Thus, while he focused downward toward the roof, the motion of a distant figure running toward the abbey caught his attention. From there, his eyes elevated only slightly to take in the beach and the sea half a mile away. First, he saw the scattered breaking of the morning mist, then his brain registered five ships, sails gathered, and anchored.
He stared for a full minute, while his mind ran through options. Trading ships? He didn’t think so. The Narthani had blocked all trade, and even if they hadn’t, traders seldom came directly to Abersford, instead of the clan’s port facilities at Wilsford Bay. Ships seeking cover from a storm? What storm and what cover did this part of the coast provide? Caedellium ships? Certainly not from Keelan or any nearby provinces. Preddi had had vessels, but the Narthani controlled Preddi now. Could these ships be Narthani? It was the Narthani option that finally triggered a reaction. Warnings had been sent from the hetman and reinforced by Abbot Beynom. A raiding party!
The main bell was rung by using a thick rope attached by a block-and-tackle arrangement, the bell itself weighing several tons. Alber couldn’t ring the bell from atop the tower. He would have to climb down the stairway to reach the end of the ringing rope. Several brothers and sisters gaped at Brother Alber sliding down the rope, using his cassock to grip and protect his hands from rope burns, his bare legs and private parts on display as he descended the four stories in a few seconds. When he hit the block-and-tackle setup, he lost his grip and dropped the last ten feet to the stone floor. His ankle broke, but he didn’t notice and jumped to his feet, grabbed the lower end of the rope, and rang the bell. One ring signaled standard morning, noon, and evening times. Three rings repeated with breaks assembled the people for worship on Godsday, accompanied ceremonies such as weddings, announced visiting dignitaries such as the hetman, or called a general gathering of all people within hearing. Continuous ringing meant imminent danger. No one living in Abersford had ever heard the continuous ringing, but all knew the meaning. Armed men were to gather at the abbey, citizens living far enough away to escape inland, and those living close to the abbey to run to its protection.
Denes Vegga and the registrar were just leaving the registrar’s office to ride out to the tax-delinquent farmer when the peals started. They both froze in place through the first dozen peals. Then, “Hallon! Get on your horse and wait while I see what’s happening!”
Denes raced back into the two-story building and up to the roof, where he had a view of the coast. As soon as he saw the ships, he shouted and waved to the mounted registrar and yelled out, “Clengoth! Ride for help! It’s a raid!”
The district headquarters was fifteen miles away. Help would be dispatched from there, and a semaphore message sent on to the province capitol at Caernford. Unfortunately, the first help would be three or more hours away. They were on their own until then.
Denes raced back down the stairs, mounted his waiting horse, and galloped toward the abbey, where he would organize the defense.
The abbey appeared chaotic at first glance. Word of the ships as the explanation for the bell ringing spread quickly. Sistian and Diera had drilled the abbey’s staff for just such an event. They knew the abbey would become a receptacle for a flood of refugees fleeing from the village and the surrounding countryside. If the worst came, the defense would be here, at the abbey complex with its main stone walls. Given news of other raids, that defense would be to the death. No surrender contemplated, no matter what.
Carnigan moved without waiting for confirmation. He knew his immediate task and set out within seconds of the fourth peal. He was to assist the armorer in opening the block building that served as the area’s armory. The armorer had a key to the building, as did Denes Vegga. By chance, the armorer was one of the men called to respond to the request for assistance from the Gwillamese under raid threat and hadn’t given Carnigan the key before leaving. Vegga wasn’t at the abbey at the moment. Carnigan solved the problem his usual way—he grabbed a ball-peen hammer as he ran to the armory. He took one second to smash the lock on the door. Gonna need new locks, he thought inanely, as he flung open the door. Men would bring their own weapons, and the armory served as a reserve. Racks of muskets, crossbows, and spears of various lengths and blade shapes, along with a mélange of swords, axes, and knives, made up the accumulated stockpile of weapons discarded, inherited extras, and only God knew from what other sources. Carnigan didn’t know who would use what weapon. That was Vegga’s problem—his was to move the arms to the courtyard for distribution.
Halla Bower still rested from carrying the toddler to and from Manwyn’s school when the peals began. Her breath caught, and her heart seemed to stop as the peals continued. What was she supposed to do? She and her husband had spoken of it only briefly, since neither believed it would happen. Her husband would be on his way to the abbey and the gathering of his third group of Abersford’s fighting men. Manwyn would be watched after by the teachers at the village school. She couldn’t remember whether the students would flee inland or go to the abbey. There was nothing she could do for Manwyn, and she’d have to trust the teachers. She was supposed to take their other child to the abbey as the safest place. She grabbed the protesting toddler, who had just found a favorite ball under the table, and ran out of their house toward the road to the abbey, all tiredness from their previous trip forgotten.
Yozef was partway to Abersford when the peals started. He walked another fifty yards before his brain woke up, with the help of people running or riding toward the abbey. He remembered the talk of the possibility of Narthani or other raiders attacking the village, but it had seemed a theoretical discussion. Whatever it was, the answers lay at the abbey, now a third of a mile away. He joined the flow of runners.
Musfar Adalan was not happy. The two-hundred-yard clearance reported by the Narthani for anchoring offshore turned out to be more than three hundred yards. Warrior’s Pride narrowly missed ramming onto barely submerged rocks, and Musfar ordered anchoring short of their goal. The three Narthani officers were impervious to his glares, and Buldorian curses leveled at the Narthani fell on uncomprehending ears.
Adel Adalan was even less happy. He was the one going ashore to command the raid. Not only were they farther off the beach, but several lines became snarled as they attempted to lower the longboats. They had carried out this maneuver a hundred times in raids and training, but it didn’t help this day. They’d be a good fifteen minutes later ashore than his plan called for.