More arrows flew, but the wagons continued to move forward slowly until they reached the wall. Then they stopped. For a time, it appeared to Quaeryt that nothing happened, even as arrows sleeted down, but were blocked by the wooden shields that were beginning to resemble hedgehogs. He realized that there were two teamsters and that they were doing something with the hitches and turning the big dray horses. Then the horses began to pull again-except that the wagons did not move, but began to tilt until the front end lifted and kept rising until it was as high as the wall. At the same time, the wagon bed stretched.
Quaeryt’s mouth opened. Indeed, Rescalyn had some surprises prepared. Then another set of planks emerged, winched from somewhere, that began to extend over the wall. The scholar watched as both wagons became ramps.
“Fifth Battalion! Forward! By twos!”
The companies of Fifth Battalion galloped to the wall, then slowed, as each rider guided his mount up the ramp and then down the other side.
The archers targeted the riders, and several were hit. One mount and rider went down on the ramp, then slid to the bottom, but Fifth Battalion kept coming.
“Sixth Battalion! Forward! By twos!”
As he rode forward, Quaeryt could see a flood of men hurrying downhill from one of the structures near the top of the knoll, but they had close to a half mille to cover. At the same time, more than a few riders and mounts from Fifth Battalion had fallen, but the others were riding toward the archers, and the closer they got, the less time the bowmen had to nock and release the next volley.
He glanced to his right, where he saw two engineers’ wagons being driven toward the gate, with a ranker holding a wide shield in front of the teamster. There had to be more engineers in the wagons, and Quaeryt could only hope that they were going to try to sap the gates or create more ways for the regiment to get through or over the walls.
Except that will be too late for you.
Quaeryt forced his concentration back to the road and Meinyt in front of him, trying to ignore the fact that arrows had to be falling around him. Then, before he expected it, the wagon ramp was ahead of him.
“One mount at a time! Pass it back!” ordered Meinyt.
Quaeryt could feel the ramp shake and shiver as the mare climbed up it, and at the top an arrow-more likely a quarrel from the force-smashed into his shields so hard that he rocked back in the saddle, barely keeping his seat as the mare carried him down. He managed to yell back, “One mount at a time! Pass it back!” before he was down and off the ramp, heading toward the archers who were retreating in stages, while still loosing shafts.
He was scarcely ten yards from the ramp when he heard an ominous crack, and then a yell, and an agonized scream from a mount. He forced himself to concentrate on the hillside ahead, a slope gentle enough that it rose perhaps one yard in every ten-steep for a wagon, but not that steep for a man or mount.
“On your squad leaders!” ordered Meinyt.
Half-staff out and now in hand, Quaeryt just followed the older captain uphill and toward the left side of the archers still loosing shafts. The slight vibration of his shields suggested that another arrow had grazed them.
The armsmen who had been hurrying down the slope halted fifty yards or so above the archers, some of whom were already beginning to fall to the blows from the leading riders in the remnants of Fifth Battalion, others of whom were retreating uphill. The newly arrived defenders immediately formed a solid line some four or five men deep that stretched across a front some two hundred yards wide. They all carried small round shields-larger than bucklers and seemingly strapped to the forearm-with blades longer than sabres but shorter than hand-and-a-half blades, a combination Quaeryt had never seen, but then there were many aspects of arms about which he knew nothing.
At the sound of a tattoo on a bass drum, the remaining archers fled, running up the gentle slope to try to escape the several hundred riders remaining from Fifth Battalion, who in turn immediately did their best to pursue and cut down the fleeing bowmen.
“Sixth Battalion! At the defenders!” ordered Skarpa, from somewhere to Quaeryt’s right.
Quaeryt understood. Once the defenders let the archers slip through their ranks, the bowmen could move uphill, turn, and again target the attacking Telaryn forces. He took a quick glance over his shoulder back downslope. As he had feared, one of the ramps had collapsed, and all other riders were using the remaining ramp while the engineers worked frantically to clear the stones and open the gate.
He urged the mare forward, but found most of Meinyt’s squad moving uphill faster than he was. So he angled the mare to the left more, in order to stay out of the way of better riders, and readied the staff. The defenders worked in pairs-one attacking the rider, and the other trying to disable his mount. Seeing that, as he rode toward the defenders, whose breath was creating a fog of sorts along the hillside, he extended his shields, feeling the effort. Yet what else could he do? He certainly wasn’t agile enough to lean forward in the saddle and strike anyone trying to slash the mare’s legs.
Before he realized that he’d closed on the defenders, two jumped toward him, one high and one low. He let the shields take the impact, then contracted them enough that he could hammer the one aiming at the mare, then brought the staff up in an ungainly thrust, so awkward that the defender didn’t see it coming as his blade came down on Quaeryt’s shielded arm. Even as the defender collapsed, Quaeryt almost dropped his staff, because the sword had slammed into his shields so forcefully that his entire body shook for a moment.
Another shock shivered him, as yet another defender attacked while he tried to clear his head.
Not supposed to be like this.…
He tried to turn the mare, but found himself in a press of bodies, those of mounts and men, with blades being used more like crowbars than cutting weapons, and his shields being hammered more often than not while he tried to use the staff. Before that long the hammering on his shields ceased, as more and more defenders dropped or, wounded, did their best to scramble or crawl out of the way. More than a few fell victim to hoofs as the companies of Sixth Battalion pressed up the slope.
Another wave of defenders advanced downhill, taking a position some fifty yards behind the lowest line of armsmen, the last of whom were slowly being separated and cut down or wounded. Abruptly, at the sound of a tattoo on a bass drum, the remaining defenders on the lower part of the hill all turned and turned and ran uphill, but at an angle, toward one end of the new defense formation or the other.
Fifth and Sixth Battalion, as well as Fourth, and then Eighth, continued uphill toward the secondary line of defense. Quaeryt thought there were almost as many new defenders as there had been in the last line.
How many armsmen does Zorlyn have?
Quaeryt had the feeling that they’d already faced more than two thousand … and that meant that Zorlyn had more troops than the old Khanars had mustered. No wonder the Khanars and High Holders hadn’t wanted to press the hill holders that much.
Regardless of what he wanted, the press of riders was carrying him toward the next formation of defenders, and to try to fight his way clear would make him far too obvious. Yet he was breathing heavily, and his head was throbbing. He compromised by riding with the others, but not pressing to get to the front.