"Push on!" Ullsaard ordered, clambering over pieces of broken furniture and bundles of ragged bedding. "No duties for ten days for the company that takes the tower!"
Though the path was not fully clear, the first company surged into the tower, the second company eagerly on their heels. Ullsaard raced up the steps, flanked by two legionnaires. They were met halfway by soldiers coming down, spears jabbing at the attackers.
Ullsaard used his spear to batter away the weapons of his opponents and leaped up the steps two at a time, crashing into the opponents ahead with his shield as a battering ram. He dropped his spear and pulled his sword out to blindly hack left and right. Caught between the swordsman in their midst and the spears of the first company, the Wall garrison were forced to retreat up the steps, but Ullsaard would not let them create the space they needed, following up with hacking swings that shattered the shafts of their spears and left rents in their shields.
Ullsaard could see the sky behind the press of men ahead and knew he was not far from the rampart. He took another step but the enemy came towards him, pushed down the stairs by more men pouring into the tower from above.
Ullsaard was forced back two steps, and his foot slipped from under him in a puddle of blood. He swung his sword wildly as he fell, catching one of his foes across the chin with its tip before he rolled down into the feet of his own men. Two legionnaires helped to him his feet as the rest pressed ahead, forming a solid wall of shields across the narrow stairway.
Panting, Ullsaard leaned back against the wall and let more men rush past to take up the fight. In the scrum of the melee he spied Anasind. The First Captain looked worried, but Ullsaard raised his sword to show that he was unhurt. Anasind nodded his understanding and disappeared into the throng of legionnaires, bellowing encouragement.
Shouts of alarm echoed from the top of the tower and Ullsaard guessed that Donar's men had reached the rampart to coldwards or the other gate tower had been taken. Whatever the cause, the defenders' resistance collapsed as they turned to run.
With triumphant shouts, the Thirteenth boiled up the stairwell onto the rampart, stabbing anyone left in their path. Ullsaard pushed through the crowd of soldiers as they spread coldwards along the Wall, finishing off the wounded their enemies had left behind. Ullsaard stepped to the inner edge of the rampart and looked hotwards to see the second company were fighting hard but had gained the rampart. Beyond them, further along the Wall, Jutiil's men advanced towards the gatehouse with spears ready.
Some of the defenders threw down their shields and weapons in surrender, but they were cut down mercilessly. A great many jumped from the Wall to escape, most of them landing with bone-cracking impacts. They too were swiftly despatched by the rear companies; the few lucky men that survived the jump were allowed to limp away with laughs and jeers ringing in their ears. Ullsaard could imagine his men thought it bad form to cut down a man who had survived such a death-defying leap.
XII
As pairs of legionnaires tossed the bodies of the dead off the rampart, Ullsaard called for Luamid and Rondin. The two First Captains shouldered their way through the press of soldiers occupying the gatehouse.
"Raid two towers cold- and hotwards and see what supplies you can get. Don't take too long. And remind Anasind that First Company took the gatehouse. They'll appreciate ten days of soft duties!"
The captains saluted and left, leaving Ullsaard alone amidst the maelstrom.
"General?"
He turned to see a legionnaire holding Ullsaard's goldenheaded spear. The man's face was streaked with grime and sweat, his left eye closed by a vicious bruise. His good eye was wide with reverence. "You left this behind, General."
"What's your name?" Ullsaard said, taking the weapon. "Which company?"
"Cobiunnin, General," replied the legionnaire. "Third Company. Thirteenth."
"Thank you, Cobiunnin. Tell Captain Anasind that Third Company is excused camp duties for the next two days. Make sure you tell your friends why."
"Thanks, General!" Cobiunnin replied with a broad grin. He headed back towards his company, shouting the names of his friends. Ullsaard watched as Cobiunnin announced the news. The other legionnaires clapped their comrade on the back and raised their spears to Ullsaard in thanks.
Ullsaard felt tired. He took off his helmet and rubbed a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the golden-threaded banner of Aalun. The prince rode through the Askhan dead with Noran by his side, a bodyguard of kolubrid riders in a circle around him. The two men tugged hard on the reins of their mounts when they stopped to sniff or paw the corpses.
Ullsaard turned his back to Aalun, to Askh, and looked out across the hills to duskwards, pushing everything else from his mind. The rain fell steadily, obscuring the distant mountains in murk, and nothing could be seen of the Greenwater and Narun.
It didn't matter. Out there was open country. Nemtun would never catch them before winter. Ullsaard was pleased. Victory in the first battle of a war was always a good omen. He took a deep breath, savouring the air, tinged with blood and sweat and all the sweeter for it.
After allowing himself this moment, he put on his helmet and bellowed for Anasind. There was a march to be organised.
Enair
Early Winter, 209th Year of Askh
I
Though Noonwatch approached, the ground was covered with frost that crackled under the wheels of the abada cart as it trundled along the rutted road. The branches and needles of the surrounding forest were equally rimed with ice. Above the treetops smoke rose in thin columns from a small cluster of buildings.
The village stood on the bank of a narrow river, the water's edge laced with fronds of ice. The single storey cottages were constructed from hewn logs, sealed with muddy mortar, roofed with several layers of branches tightly woven together. The road petered out into a muddy open area where swine and fowl wandered freely under the watch of several children, sitting on a low stone wall beside the river. A brick bridge was the only sign that the Askhans had ever come to this backwater, everything else was unchanged from the way the Enairian tribes had lived for centuries.
This was Ullsaard's home.
He clambered down from the first of three wagons and stomped his feet to get some feeling into his chilled toes. Wrapped in a heavy coat of goatskin lined with fur, boots of the same, his beard unclipped for several weeks, the broad-shouldered general looked like a beast of the forests. His breath came in clouds as he clapped together his gloved hands and grinned at his wives, who sat on the second wagon. "This place is so much nicer in winter," Ullsaard declared.
"If you say so," said Luia, little more than a cold-reddened nose poking out of a thick fur shawl and woollen blankets. "I think I prefer it in the summer."
One of the cottage doors opened and an elderly, rotund woman in a plain red dress and high boots emerged. Her generous cheeks were flushed from effort and steam billowed out of the door behind her.
"Lord Ullsaard!" she exclaimed as she trotted across the mud and frost. "Ain't never expected to see you at this time of year."
"Hello, Freyna," the general replied. "How about some hot drinks?"
Freyna, the local loremother, looked past Ullsaard and saw the three women bundled up on the back of the cart. She scowled at the general.
"Shame on you for bringing your lovely ladies out in this weather," said Freyna. She hurried over to the wives' cart. "Come on, dears, let's get you warmed up inside."