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A breached wall is a wealth of opportunities.
-Musings of the Historian
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We didn’t follow the troops directly. Ison took us first to a storehouse. Most of it was empty. There was precious little armor and weapons left to be stored, all were among the army. This, however, suited Ison perfectly.
He cast several critical glances back at Sahn as he rummaged deeper and deeper into the racks, eventually getting to where organization fell apart completely and old armor and broken blades lay in stacks, waiting for some blacksmith who needed a scrap piece of metal. It took him a while, but ultimately he emerged, hands splotched with rust, holding a simple, but serviceable breastplate. It showed evidence of many battles and more than a few repairs.
“This is old enough to fit our story, and big enough to fit you. Put it on.”
Sahn got into his breastplate easily enough, only needing to adjust the straps for a moment. Whatever soldier had first owned this armor had taken very good care of it, but clearly hadn’t been as big around the midriff as Sahn.
At some point, one of Ison's soldiers brought a bowl of water and Sahn washed his face.
“Any sword will do, just grab one.” Ison was already wiping his hands off, ready to move again.
“Shouldn’t I get a few more pieces? Even first level foot soldiers get a helmet and greaves. Maybe a shield?”
“Did you train with a shield and greaves for the last couple decades, or only the sword?” Ison asked, sounding almost hopeful.
“Only the sword.” Sahn admitted.
“Then you get a sword. A helmet doesn’t serve me. You aren’t going to win this war, you’re going to help my soldiers win it. I need them to see you.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Sahn replied, though he didn’t look much comforted by the thought.
As Ison passed, his eyes noted the Artist and me, but slid past without remark. Two quick steps took me close enough to pluck at his sleeve and ask him a question.
“Commander,” I started. “I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t sent me and Rena away. It seems like you’ve got a pretty big secret here. Why let us follow?”
“Are you planning on telling anyone? Spreading the word to the soldiers?”
“No, of course not.” I responded. He nodded curtly.
“I see you. You’re a good soldier. I have seen that you try to do your job well, even if I personally find that job annoying. And through all of this, I haven’t seen you show even the slightest hint of fear. I can respect that. I have no use for you, but if you want to follow along and see how this plays out, I won’t stop you.”
“Thank you, sir!” I felt oddly flattered by his curt appraisal of me. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“I appreciate that, though I don’t know if it will matter much. I don’t think I need to explain to you what our chances are of living through today, do I?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, Commander. I feel optimistic that I’ll make it.”
Ison shook my hand free of his arm and hmphed.
“Be careful. I can only babysit one fool today.”
Ison made a few more careful modifications to Sahn’s appearance, roughing up the rest of his clothes to match the armor. The cape and remaining sashes, of course, were ripped off and cast to the ground. He stood back to survey his handiwork.
“It won’t be enough.” he muttered to himself. I was surprised to see him pick up the red sash from the ground. He tied it once again around Sahn's waist.
“Let’s go!” he commanded, turning away.
I felt the relief of the men at the wall when we arrived. I hadn’t realized how close the city was to falling. The fighting really was right at the wall now. The good news was that it was an excellent wall. It was made of solid stone and thick enough at the top for three men to walk side by side.
It was tall enough to injure or even kill someone who fell from the top. Ladders were positioned at intervals around the wall.
The buildings in this part of the city were cheaper and packed closely together. However, in spite of the clear lack of space, an area a hundred paces from the wall was kept clear.
In that open space, the military had established operations, even before Ison showed up. I watched as a wounded soldier limped into a large tent that I guessed was the medical tent.
Across from it and located on a slight rise, the newly arrived soldiers were erecting a new tent. The way some of them looked towards Ison and started moving faster, I guessed that this tent was meant for him, a command tent, of sorts.
In spite of the meager number of soldiers, the Kingdom trained its fighters well, and everything advanced with sharp precision.
That was the good news, and all the good news there was to be had.
The bad news was that the big gate was burning. It was a battle in its own right. From the inside, teams of men threw water at the enormous beams that made up the door. On the other side, lithe Empire warriors darted through javelins being thrown from the wall above them to lob leather sacks of oil on the blaze.
In this war of liquids, the gate was losing. It was only a matter of time before it came down.
Ison pulled Sahn in close and spoke low, though not so low I didn’t catch the urgent question.
“How long would we have to hold here in order to get everyone out?”
“Days, sir! There simply aren’t enough...”
“Shut up.” Ison grit his teeth. He had known the answer before he had asked the question.
“At least we have that going for us,” Ison murmured upon seeing the flaming gate. I looked at him in surprise, as did Sahn. There was no sarcasm in his voice.
“How do you figure that?” Sahn whispered.
“The Empire has no appetite for siege warfare. Each man fights for blood and glory. Their honor and their place in society depends on it. If the gate is down, all of them will be drawn to it. We can concentrate our forces here. None of their warriors will waste time trying to scale walls when there is a pitched battle going on here.
“If anything, we might even get a small reprieve as they gather. They know as well as we do that this is our last stand. They’re going to want to savor this.”
It was a chilling prediction, and true. As we watched, a heavy section of the gate broke free of its top hinge, where the fire was hottest. It groaned forward, held for a moment on its bottom hinge, then crashed forward. The warriors drew back out of javelin range, cheering.
I figured the Tumani could have used the time to build a barricade, but Ison had another idea in mind.
“Clear the gate and form up!” he roared. Soldiers jumped forward to obey. If anything, they looked grateful that Ison had come to give orders. Many of the soldiers on the wall had a frantic look to them.
It took a few more rounds of throwing water and sand, but finally the flames around the gate were extinguished. The soldiers threw ropes around the beams and groups of them heaved together to clear the heavy gates.
For a haunting moment, the opening in the wall stood wide open. Then soldiers with big, heavy shields were streaming in from both sides and forming up in a broad arc outside the wall. The arc spread out for dozens of paces on both sides of the gate and about that far in front. These soldiers, especially the shield-bearers, showed much more purpose and discipline.
This was something they knew and knew well. Even though most of them likely still expected defeat, this, at least, was something that they knew. Shields clicked together like cogs in a massive machine.
I realized now why Ison hadn't bothered building a barricade. He was throwing out a challenge. It would draw the Empire to this spot.
The formation was set, a wall of shields to replace a wall of stone.