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'If any of our warriors can take that wall, yours can,' Lynan told him.

Eynon knew Lynan was clumsily attempting to build up his confidence, but there was an element of truth in his words. His warriors had carried out the attack without hesitation and had only pulled back because Eynon had given the command. Although the defences would have been too much for that first assault, he was more confident the second would do better.

Maybe, just maybe, he allowed himself to think, this exercise will end up being something more than a simple diversion.

Eynon made sure his warriors were rested and well fed, keeping them behind barricades, out of sight of the city. Chett archers were peppering the walls in the north and east as well as the south, and he had heard Lynan was arranging for barges to be made or brought up from outlying villages so they could put pressure on the river wall as well. Meanwhile, the Haxan sappers were digging closer and closer to the city walls. One way or another, Eynon was sure, Lynan would find a way to keep his word and make the city fall within two weeks. Once Hume was in Chett hands and the Algonka Pass secured, he could hunt down the Saranah who had attacked his clan and wipe them out.

And then I will resurrect my clan, and we will become as strong and respected as we once were.

As the afternoon waned, Eynon gathered nearly five hundred of his warriors together. They brought with them scaling ladders and ropes and a fierce determination to succeed where their fellow clan warriors had failed in the morning. As well, this time Eynon had more of the devilish Haxan ballistae, and Lynan had allotted them more ammunition so they could give cover from the very start of the assault. Lynan had also sent the first constructed mangonels, pieces of artillery that awed the Chetts. Where the ballistae were machines based on the principal of the bow, the mangonels were something else altogether, in concept and scale something the Chetts had never seen before.

When it was two hours from sunset Lynan joined Eynon again.

'Would you like to do something useful?' Eynon asked him.

Lynan looked at him with some amusement. 'What did you have in mind?'

'Order the artillery. I want to go up with my warriors.'

Lynan frowned. 'I don't want to lose you, Eynon.'

'Thank you for your concern,' he said dryly. 'But I want to know what it is like out there for myself. I don't want my warriors to think I'm the kind of leader who will not share their danger.'

Lynan seemed doubtful, and Eynon thought he was going to refuse him. 'When you fought against the army of Grenda Lear, I understand you led the final attack against the knights from the Twenty Houses.'

Lynan sighed. He had been outmanoeuvred. 'Very well.'

'How quickly do those mangonels reload?'

'I'm assured by the Haxan crews they can send off a missile every three minutes.'

'Too slow to be much use in the attack. Have them shoot as soon as we start the charge across the open ground. With any luck those huge stones will dislodge some of the enemy from behind the parapets. Then use the ballistae until you see my warriors are near the top.'

Lynan nodded. 'As you say. Good luck.'

Eynon nodded and left to join his warriors. He waited until he judged the sun was shining directly in the eyes of any defenders behind the walls, stood up and waved his sword in the air. As one, his Chetts broke cover and started running across the open ground towards the west wall. They had not gone twenty paces when Eynon heard wood slam against wood, followed by the whistle of stones hurled overhead by the Haxan mangonels. They hit the west wall with loud cracks; some of the stones disintegrated, others dropped to the ground. Pulverised dust swirled around the parapets, and Eynon could hear the screams of the wounded and dying even above the war cries of the Chetts.

Like a dark tide the attackers reached the wall and pooled under it to avoid the arrows of Hume archers. Eynon shouted orders and ladders were raised and climbing ropes with savage hooks whirled above heads. His warriors kept up their war cries and were answered by the defenders above. Missiles from the ballistae tattooed against the stonework, the sound softer if it hit a human target. The rope hooks whirled through the air, some finding purchase, others dropping. Warriors clambered up ladders, shinned up ropes. Eynon went to the nearest ladder and started climbing. From the corner of his eye he saw liquid, creamy and steaming, pour down over three Chetts on the ladder next to his. They ignited before his eyes and fell to the ground where they writhed in pain but without sound. Anger and hate welled up in him like a black tide. The warrior above him gave a victory cry as he reached the parapet then screamed, toppled backwards and over Eynon, an arrow in his eye. Then Eynon was there himself, facing a Hume archer desperately trying to nock another arrow. Eynon held on to the ladder with his sword hand and with the other unsheathed his dagger and flung it. The dagger clanged uselessly against the archer's helm, but he yelped in fright and took a step backward, disappearing over the walkway. Eynon scrabbled across the parapet and was over, his sword flashing in the golden sun as he sliced through archers and spearmen suddenly too crowded to fight back effectively.

Other Chetts made it to the walkway and soon they secured the central section of the wall, allowing even more warriors to clamber over.

'We've done it!' he cried. 'We've done it! Get to the gate! Get to the gate!'

Their sabres whirling and cutting, the Chetts forced back the defenders. They reached a guard tower and killed all inside it, giving them possession of stairs leading down to the city itself. With wild whoops Eynon and his warriors poured down the stairs, scattering the defenders before them.

In the courtyard of the palace what was left of the knights of the Twenty Houses, about three hundred heavy cavalry, waited impatiently for the call to action. Among them was Serefa, still haunted by images of his companions left behind at the outpost from which he himself had barely escaped with his life. He wanted revenge against the Chetts, but for the moment all he could do was listen to the sounds of the assault on the west wall. He gripped his reins and prayed to God that he would let the Chetts win over the wall so the knights could be called into action, and at the same time felt terribly guilty that his wish might be granted.

After what seemed hours of listening to someone else's fight, the tone and pitch of the battle changed noticeably. It seemed closer, more desperate, and Serefa could feel in the sound the unmistakable current of panic. His heartbeat and breathing picked up and he started sweating under his breastplate and helmet.

A messenger appeared at the courtyard entrance, looked around frantically until he found Galen and ran to him. The two exchanged terse words and the messenger left. Galen turned to his knights, raised his mailed fist and waved it in the air. Serefa could not help grinning—God had granted him his wish.

They stayed at a walk until they had left the courtyard, then moved to a trot on the broad avenue leading directly west. The whole area was deserted. Ahead they could see small, ant-like figures on the west wall and smoke starting to column into the air. Galen drew his sword, and the knights eased into a canter, the sound of their horses' hooves and their jangling armour echoing in the city, their formation easing into four lines to give the maximum frontage. Serefa found himself at the far right of the second line, and he could see the enemy on the ground, overwhelming desperate defenders trying to stop them getting to the main gate in the north wall. Galen lowered his sword and the knights went from canter to gallop. The sound they made turned into a pounding that could be heard above all other noise, and the Chetts looked up and saw with terror what was bearing down on them. Some tried to form some kind of defensive line but the knights were on them too quickly. Swords swung, smashing through skull and limb, horses bit at faces and their hooves beat down on fallen bodies. The Chetts panicked and routed back to the stairs, but some of the knights, first among them Serefa, beat them to it and held them back while their fellows pressed in from the front.