Blood Tempered: Book 1 of the Sword Monk Saga

Blood Tempered: Part 33

"What's the butcher's bill?" Jaga asked Arle. Neither had done any fighting, but both were covered in sweat. He looked around at the men who took his coin; many were battered and bloody. Many faces were missing. The witch had disappeared; likely back to her room. Maybe she needed to drink some blood or make a human sacrifice.

"We've got forty dead or incapacitated," Arle replied, scratching at his stump.

Jaga swore. "And the Roumnans?"

"Triple that, near enough. The lads gave a good accounting of themselves."

"Not that it matters. They've still got nearly five thousand, and we just lost more than a tenth of our strength."

"The keep is in much better shape than the outer wall, at least. Easier to defend."

Jaga snorted. "Did you burn that trebuchet like I asked you?"

"I forgot. Sorry."

"You'll be a lot sorrier when the Roumnans bust their way through." Jaga took his helmet off and tossed it in a corner. He started up the corkscrew stairs.

"Off to take a nap, then?" Arle called after him.

"No. Off to talk to our employer. Care to come along?"

"I'd rather go burn the trebuchet."

"You get the men sorted. Kill yourself after if you're really fixed on it."

~ ~ ~

"Are the Ardeshi coming? Because there isn't any sign of them." Jaga wasn't in the mood to be smooth with this woman, and her unclean powers be damned.

"They are coming." She looked tired, and sounded tired. His heart did not bleed for her.

"When they arrive, what makes you so sure they will attack the Roumnans? They don't have any reason to."

"Magic, Jaga. Magic will make them attack."

He shook his head. "More magic. You put your faith in it too much."

"It isn't faith. The strength in your muscles, you rely on it to swing a sword. But you do not call such reliance 'faith.'"

"Very well, let's talk about your strength. The keep is stronger than the outer defenses, princess, but the Roumnans will be inside by the end of the day. If the Ardeshi don't arrive by then, are you ready to do to the Roumnans what you did to the Imperials who were escorting you?"

"It would be impossible to put so many to sleep, even if they were resting rather than assaulting us."

"Do you have any sort of a plan in case the Ardeshi do not arrive in timely fashion?"

She frowned. "I do. You will not like it. So pray to whatever god you follow I am not forced to implement it. Go away, Jaga Khun. I'm tired."

As Jaga turned to go, a great boom sounded from below, and the stones of the keep shivered slightly. A few heartbeats later, it happened again. Then again.

"That's a battering ram, unless I miss my guess. A big one."

When he left, he saw the sword monk standing in the corridor.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, and the monk shrugged.

"The reasons are complicated."

"Are you going to fight with us, Andine?" Jaga asked. He could make use of the monk's blade.

"I am going to defend the princess. That part of my order is clear enough, at least."

"Do you honestly think the Roumnans would harm their own princess?"

"I think I would not like to find out."

"I'm afraid we'll have to differ on that, monk." Jaga nodded to the holy fool and went down to see if there was anything to be done about the battering ram.

"The good news is the Ardeshi cavalry has been spotted. The bad news is they're almost an hour away, judging by the dust they're kicking up, and the ram will have made kindling of that door long before then." Arle spat and looked sidewise at Jaga.

"So what's your plan?" Jaga replied.

"My plan? You're the great war chief. My plan is to follow your plan."

"Well I guess we're fucked then, because my plan was to steal your plan and claim it as my own." He sighed and rubbed at his face with both meaty hands.

"Does that help?"

"It doesn't hurt," Jaga mumbled. Finally he dropped his hands and turned to his oldest friend.

"Right then. Here's the plan. Kill anybody who comes through that door."

"Just me? Or can I get a little help?"

"Lazy bastard."

The Roumnans broke the door down in something less than ten minutes. The first batch through went down in a withering rain of arrows and crossbow bolts. The second wave fared no better. The third wave of Roumnans were a lot better at using their shields, and most of Jaga's troops dropped their bows and unlimbered swords.

The fighting was hot at the remains of the keep's door. Jaga's blackguards were much better at the sort of close fighting they were engaged in now, but the Roumnan troops were disciplined, and the reserves the Roumnan officer could and did call on began to tell. After perhaps another ten minutes, Jaga was forced to withdraw from the doorway, and make the Roumnans assault the staircase. The Roumnan's superior numbers meant much less then, for they could attack only two at a time, with the occasional and ineffective pike-thrust over the shoulders of the lead attackers. The stairs wound upwards clockwise, hampering the attacker's sword-arms. Jaga's men had the advantage of being higher up on the stair. That, and pure desperation.

The assault ground to a stalemate.

We may survive this yet, thought Jaga, if the witch is right about the Ardeshi attacking.