Redoubt

CHAPTER TEN

  With a start Forge sat up. It took him a few moments to realise that it was still night. He glanced around and scratched his head.

  “Not like me,” he said to himself. “Wonder what time it is.”

  “It is an hour before dawn,” said a voice from the shadows.

  Forge whipped his head around towards the direction of the voice. Leaning against a dark corner was a large human form, the shadows hiding its face and true shape. It leaned forward and the light from the stars illuminated a Bantusai face. It was Juma.

  “What the hell…?” began Forge.

  “Please be quiet, Captain. Be in no doubt, that I could kill you quickly and all your men would follow.” Juma’s expression was hard and his eyes glittered. He leaned down next to him. Forge fell silent.

  “You have questions. I will answer them. My people live in the Barra, the wood,” he whispered. “We know how to move silently. Your cage was never strong. Your guards have been taken and my men only wait for my signal. Your men are tired and sleeping. Their deaths will be quick and painless. You want to know why?”

  Forge did not respond. He felt a cold anger welling up inside him. He felt rage and betrayal like never before. He also felt like a fool for having been so easily duped.

  “We were sent to kill you, when our work was done. Now we must kill you before. The Duke promised that when we returned he would give us passage back to our home. I am sorry, for what it is worth.” He put his hand up as a warning. “Do not shout, Captain. It will only wake up those that are sleeping. They need their rest.”

  Forge was now very confused. Juma had changed his manner, his tone less menacing. He stood up, walked to the exit of the tower, stopped and spoke again. “I am not a fool. I am a speaker of the truth. The Duke is fat and lazy, and is a man of lies. We would not live to see our land. If we killed you and ran what then would we do? We are in a strange place with no friends and we do not know the way. Would you see us home? Would you provide a ship to take us across the sea and allow us to walk without fear in your country?”

  “I might think about it.”

  “You are a better man. So, tonight I will let you live.” He turned and grinned at Forge. “Besides, I like you. It would have been a pity to cut your throat.” With that he disappeared into the silent night, his voice whispering, “Portal. He knew nothing of this.”

  Forge sat quietly for a few moments and then blew out his breath. He lay back down and stared up into the night. About thirty seconds later Sergeant Mac burst into the tower.

  “Boss, it’s the Bantusai”

  “Let me guess, the sentries just told you that they had been grabbed and held by our guests. Then a few minutes later they were released and the Bantusai all went back into their pen?”

  “Well, yeah but…”

  “Go back to bed, Sergeant, there won’t be any more trouble tonight.”

  “What about…?”

  “I’m knackered. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

  With that he turned over and closed his eyes.

  The following morning, as dawn was breaking, Forge emerged from the tower scratching at his beard and looking forward to taking a leak. The courtyard was strangely silent. Whilst men were moving out in the open beyond the gates things were somewhat different inside. The Bantusai were all still sat in their pen and looking nonchalantly at the ten guards that were stationed on opposite side of the open space, their backs almost to the walls, staring intently back. In the middle of them, Sergeant Mac stood glowering at the Bantusai. Above them on the parapet were five men with bows, arrows notched but resting by their sides. It might have looked like a real stand-off if not for the absurd sight of Sergeant Pike stood by his cook pot. It was bubbling away nicely over the fire and the Quartermaster was clutching his ladle as if he would batter the first man to come near him. Gathered around the fire, munching happily on porridge and bread were the five trappers, who kept looking around interestedly in between mouthfuls, keen to see what might happen next. Old Hoarty spotted the Captain and waved a half gnawed chunk of bread at him in greeting.

  Right. Let’s get this sorted.

  He marched down to the pen and raised the bar to the entrance. He pulled back the small gate and stood there eyeing Juma.

  “Are you lot hanging around then?”

  Juma smiled.

  “OK, get back to work.” He stood to one side and bowed holding his hand out to indicate the way. As the Bantusai filed past he looked up and saw Kely grinning at him. Forge gave him a cold, perfunctory smile and walked over to the First Sergeant who looked suitably non-plussed.

  “Sergeant Mac. Our prisoners are now free men and for the duration of this exercise will be joining us as…levies.”

  Sergeant Mac chewed this over. “Right you are, Sir. Can always use the extra help.” He looked up at the men on the parapet. “Don’t just stand there. Put those bloody things away and get grafting. And you lot.” He indicated to the men around him. The soldiers looked at each other, shrugged and headed off. The First Sergeant scratched at his nose and looked at Forge. “Go on then.”

  “These blokes were all set to bump us off. Orders from the Duke. Luckily they seemed to take a liking to us and never trusted the Duke in the first place.”

  “And they could have bloody done it too, they would have been all over us” said Sergeant Mac. “Still, they are crafty buggers. Don’t doubt they might be good in a fight. ‘Specially in the trees.”

  “Just what I was thinking.”

  Sergeant Mac looked over at the five trappers still happily eating their breakfast and raised his voice. “And what about this lot. Can’t we put them to work as well?”

  “Sorry, we ain’t conscripted,” said Arald.

  “And I got a really poorly arm,” added Fuzz freely waving his bandaged limb in the air.

  Forge looked at Sergeant Mac and smiled. “Guess not. I think we should be grateful they are willing to lend us their arrows for a while.”

  “That’s right,” piped up Old Hoarty. “We’re specialists. Not bloody labourers.”

  “All right, all right,” muttered Sergeant Mac. He stalked off mumbling something about “bloody civvies”.

  Despite it all Captain Forge couldn’t help but smile. He then ordered that Portal be collected from his incarceration. He grabbed a couple of mugs of coffee and waited by the fire. A few minutes later Portal strode into the fort. Two grim-faced guards who were keeping a close eye on their charge flanked him. Portal himself had a face like a thunder cloud and had the dishevelled look of a man who had slept little. He marched to within a few feet in front of Forge and stopped. Forge looked him up and down. Let’s see what the bureaucrat has to say for himself.

  “Well, Captain? Have you brought me here to gloat, to enjoy belittling me? Well, I’ll tell you. You are not the first. I have many who have tried to put me down. To presume that they have the right to judge themselves my betters. I have more intelligence in my little finger than you and your men have together. And I tell you now, when certain people in the capital hear about this, your career will be over. Do you hear?”

  Forge continued to study him impassively which caused Portal’s face to glow an even darker shade of crimson. “Finished?” he asked. It was Portal’s turn to stay quiet. “We were all to be killed. You know that much. But not by the Harradan. By the Bantusai.” He paused to let that sink in. He could see the confusion in Portal’s face; the red colour slowly draining from his face as realisation began to dawn. “According to Juma you didn’t know this. From what I hear of your Shifter history, that makes sense. And if you apply a little intelligence, of which I apparently lack, then the following fact is obvious. That you weren’t due to be going back either.”

  Portal’s face was now completely white. He opened his mouth, closed it and then looked at Forge in disbelief.

  “N...no!” he stuttered. “I have been a loyal servant. The Duke would not
do such a thing.”

  “Yes, he bloody would. You of all people know what he’s like. The man would betray anyone, use anyone to get what he wants. Your name is mud in Shifter. I seriously doubt he would have included you in any future power play involving your home country. Hells, he probably agreed to have you taken out deliberately. I’m sure that would have bought him some negotiating currency.”

  Actually, Forge doubted that anyone cared about Portal in Shifter. But Portal’s own inflated opinion of himself might just believe it so.

  “Damn him!” cried Portal, coming round to Forge’s way of thinking. “And this is how he repays my loyal service!”

  “There you go then. So here we are, all dropped in the shit. But we got lucky. Seems Juma and his boys have decided that they don’t trust the Duke much either and want to give us a shot. So…” Forge levered himself up slowly, grunting in displeasure. “I might as well do the same for you.”

  He bent down, picked up a coffee mug and offered it to Portal. As a token of peace it wasn’t up to much but it was the best that Forge had and the most he was prepared to offer. He waited for Portal’s response. The wizard’s face was a tapestry of emotions: anger, disbelief and downright confusion. Forge could imagine how Portal was feeling. To be betrayed by the man he had given his loyalty to and then to be cast aside was hard enough. Forge had been feeling something similar himself. To cap it all, he had to endure the galling fact that now the man he had been sparring against was suddenly offering a truce. On an off day I would probably tell me to piss off and be damned.

  A few more moments passed. Portal stared at Forge. His eyes turned hard and he made to give a scathing response. Instead he stopped, shut his mouth and shook his head. He looked again at the Captain with a resigned expression and sighed. He raised his hand and took the mug from Forge’s hand. Inwardly Forge was relieved; he really wasn’t in the mood to have to guard a surly prisoner, least of all one with magic at his disposal. “It seems, Captain, that we find ourselves in a somewhat difficult position.”

  “How so?”

  “Now that it transpires my employer no longer wishes my services... I find myself without work or a master. You could say that I am now a non-combatant, a civilian, if you will.”

  “Ah,” said Forge, knowing what was coming next.

  “So, if there is to be a battle….”

  “Then you want to be a hundred miles from this place.”

  Portal inclined his head. “Precisely Captain.”

  “OK Portal, I can’t hold you here. If you want to go, you go. I’ll give you provisions. Enough to get you back to civilisation. “

  “You are most gracious.”

  “That’s me. A fucking angel.”

  “So I will make my preparations.” Portal bowed low, with a tight smile on his face and turned to go.

  “Just one thing,” said Forge. Portal turned round, an irritated look on his face.

  “Yes?”

  “You planning on getting even with Burns?”

  “That particular thought is at the forefront of my mind, yes.”

  ”Going to try and get to him? Take him out perhaps? Or maybe his business interests?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You know that if we don’t hold this army, if they get across, things could be pretty screwed up for our side. Think about it. If Burns’ plan works, ain’t no way you’ll get to him. If we do hold them off, unlikely perhaps, but do you think Burns will be hanging around? He has staked everything on this. If he fails here, then he is finished. Certainly as far as Graves is concerned.” Forge stopped and took a sip of his coffee. “If you want to hurt Burns, really screw him up, here’s the place to do it.”

  Portal looked incredulous. “You are suggesting that I stay here?”

  “Why not? Besides, I’m not suggesting. I’m asking. We could use your help. You’re clever.”

  “That must have hurt,” said Portal drily.

  “It did. And you do have some magic about you. According to my First Sergeant at any rate. Something like that could give us an edge.”

  Portal was quiet for a moment.

  “Captain, I am no hero and I am no soldier. I have little liking for you or your people. And I have no desire to stay and be slaughtered in a hopeless fight.” He shook his head. “I will not stay.”

  Forge nodded. “Very well. Then go and good luck to you.”

  Portal turned and continued on. Forge sipped his coffee as he watched him walk away. Well, nothing ventured, he mused. It was not as if he had actually expected him to stay anyway.

  The rest of the morning passed without incident. The trappers once more headed out across the bridge and into the woods. No one was that bothered with what they were up to. The majority of the Ashkent manpower went towards finishing the fire trench. The final result was a ditch six foot wide and three foot deep. The spoil was placed in a high bund on the inner side. Wood was now being piled up into the trench and the kindling placed at intervals along it. Even so, it would take a while for it to catch and therefore it was critical to get the timing right. Lighting it as the enemy were charging on your heels would not be a good thing.

  Meanwhile the Bantusai had been busy constructing a new gate. They had effectively copied the concept of the tree trunks in the eastern wall. Large, thick planks of wood had been forced into the ground at spaces and planks ran along them horizontally to make the wall. They had been heavily reinforced with buttressing. To one side of this a hatchway had been left open. About five feet in height, this was the only access into and out of the fort. A free-standing door was leant against the wall and would be used to seal the fort once it was surrounded and engaged. They had now moved onto working on the tower within.

  Sergeants Mac and Pike approached the Captain whilst the gate was under construction.

  “Sir, I imagine it hasn’t escaped your notice that what with the gate being blocked like that…” said Sergeant Mac.

  “Where are the horses going to go?” interjected Sergeant Pike.

  Actually Forge had to admit that was a bloody good point.

  “Buggered if I know. But I think they were right to make that hatchway. There wouldn’t have been enough space for all of us and the horses in there.”

  “They would just get in the way and panic when the arrows come flying in. Probably kill a couple of us in the process.” agreed Sergeant Mac.

  “That’s all well and good. And it’s obvious to all we are staying put.” said Sergeant Pike. “But I still want to know what you are going to do with ‘em. The lads, and myself I might add, are fond of our horses. It’s what we are. Mounted infantry.”

  Forge thought about it for a few moments.

  “Reckon we could let them go?” he suggested.

  “Mmm, best not. The silly buggers would only hang around. Get caught in the crossfire,” said Sergeant Mac.

  “How about tying them?” offered Sergeant Pike. “Take them into the trees aways. Deep in so that the northerners won’t find ‘em if they try and flank us.”

  “Which they will if they get the chance,” said Sergeant Mac.

  “True,” said Forge. He didn’t want the horses to get killed but tying them up would leave them defenceless as well.

  “Tell you what, Sergeant Pike. You round up a gang of guys and start shipping those nags out of here. Lead ‘em south for an hour and let them go. Leastways they’ll be out of trouble.”

  Sergeant Pike nodded. “Right you are, boss. And after we’ve finished our little set-to, we should be able to round most of them up afterwards.” He turned and went off to get his party organised.

  Sergeant Mac shook his head and smiled. “Got to admire the optimism of the man. Somehow I don’t think we’ll be needing all the horses back by the end of this.”

  Forge looked at his First Sergeant. “No, if any at all.” He shook his head and smiled. Damn me, I need to buck up.
He clapped his friend on the shoulder and walked away.

  Sergeant Mac watched him go. So the boss didn’t hold out much hope. Well, he guessed he didn’t either. They were a delaying action nothing more. He wondered if this was the final cast of the dice for Forge. A chance to carve out a little dignity. To let his men die for something that had meaning for a change. If die they must. At least the boys in the regiment would remember what they did. A cold comfort to know that someone cared what happened to a bunch of hairy-arsed squaddies fighting in a minor war miles from home.

  A little later Corporal Jonas and Holis Lode came loping across the largely dismantled bridge. The far side pier had been removed and only the sunken support pillars remained. On one side of this was laid a plank crossing. When the time came, the last man would cast the planks into the river. Then only the upright verticals would be left standing in the river and the nearside pier also would remain intact. The two men look tired and had been moving fast.

  Forge met them at the gate.

  “OK. What’s the news?”

  Jonas squatted on the ground and withdrew a water bottle from his pack.

  “As Holis said. They’re comin’ alright. We snuck up to their camp last night. All strung out along the path they were. Then we watched them as they got ready to move this morning.”

  “We had to head north before turning west again. They had a whole bunch of scouts out. Looking for me and my friends,” said Lode, accepting the water from Jonas.

  “Strength?” asked Forge.

  “I guess a couple of thousand. Those Shifter soldiers...they’re archers.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, the Harradan look like a rough crew. They’ll want to get in close, take a swing. “

  “Guess that’s why Shifter deliberately sent their bowmen for some extra flexibility.”

  “Flexible my arse,” said Corporal Jonas. “The Harradan will charge and bugger the rest.”

  “Even so. It might have made life easier without those archers. What about time? How long have we got?”

  “Six hours. Should get here just before nightfall,” said Hollis.

  “Good, that’ll give us time. Hit them just as it gets dark and they’ll have to spend the night working out what happened. You two get some rest and some grub if you can. I think the pot’s still hot.”

  The two men nodded. Behind them Forge spotted Lode’s five companions returning over the bridge. “What have they been doing?”

  “They spent the afternoon putting some surprises out for the guests,” said Holis.

  “Oh really? What sort?”

  “Well, you reckoned they could get up to the bank and take pot shots at the river. So we just made it a bit less inviting. Rope traps, pits, sharp pointy stakes, that sort of thing. If you want to set out on an ambush for ‘em, I recommend you stick to the road for the first fifty yards from the bank. Never know what you might find.”

  Jonas gave an evil smile. “I like the way these blokes think.”

  “That’s because they’re almost as nasty as you, Corporal Jonas. Good work, Lode. Now you guys go and get some rest whilst I brief the troops.”

  The Corporal accompanied Forge up to the fort whilst Lode waited for his friends.

  “Mornin’ Holis,” said Juggs.

  “Afternoon,” corrected Fuzz.

  “Yeah, whatever. Saw our friends again?”

  “Yep. And they will definitely be wantin’ words with us,” replied Lode.

  “Well, we got a few words for them,” laughed Arald.

  “’Cept ours are a bit spikier and painful than what they might be used to,” said Juggs.

  “Well, we got six hours or so till they get here,” said Lode. “I’m off for a kip.”

  “Before you do that, lad. We got another little scheme if you will,” replied Old Hoarty.

  He put an arm round the younger man and they strolled off to their little camp in the trees.

  “Well, that does it then,” announced Sergeant Pike. “Off you go, darlin’s. Don’t stray too far.”

  He took one last look at the crowd of horses that had been brought further south down the river trail. Most were now stood idly by, grazing amongst the trees or drinking from the water.

  “Let’s go lads. The Captain’ll want us back pretty sharpish. Got work to do.”

  The men accompanying him started the hour’s walk back to the fort.

  Private Smitty still stood by a horse that he was gently stroking.

  “Sorry, feller, it’s for your own good.”

  Private Thom walked up to him.

  “Come on, you sentimental old sod. Your nag has got the easy end of the deal. She gets a chance to stay alive.”

  “I know, but me and her have been buddies for a long time now. Five years she’s carried my weight.”

  “Yeah and bloody glad she’ll be to get a break from you.”

  Private Smitty turned to look at his old friend who smiled at him.

  “Do you reckon we can get out of this?”

  “Well, I intend to. I’m expecting you to keep my backside covered like you normally do.”

  “Isn’t it more like me keeping all of you covered as I take another beating on your behalf?” Smitty said laughing.

  “Exactly. Stick to what you’re good at. Come on. Let’s get it over with and we can come back and fetch your girlfriend in a couple of days. I doubt she’ll get far. Probably got arthritis from carting you around.”

  “Alright, I’m coming.” Private Smitty gave his horse a final pat. ”You heard the man. Don’t go running off and I’ll come get you soon.” The horse turned its head and nuzzled his face. Smitty laughed. “That’s my girl.”

  “See I knew it,” came Private Thom’s voice a small distance away. “You and she are lovers!”

  Smitty shook his head then turned and ran to catch up with his friend.

  Forge had quickly passed his orders to the troops. With four hours left to go, most of the building work had now stopped. Men were readying their own kit. Making sure blades were sharp and that armour was in good condition. It was a drill they had conducted a thousand times and each man had his own way of getting ready for battle. There was little banter as minds focused inward. Not a few were actually getting some extra shut-eye in; the sign of an experienced old hand. Forge had never been able to do that himself, always got too keyed up before a fight. As he had risen through the ranks, his extra responsibility towards his men made it even harder. How could he sleep at a time like this? Forge knew they would all do their jobs and it was all he could ever ask of them. He also knew it wasn’t too late. They could still pull out and head south. Practice some hit and run tactics. But that wouldn’t work. He had to fix the enemy here. That was his duty. Sergeant Mac ambled over with a hunk of cheese. He split it in two and offered half to Forge.

  “No bread?”

  “You want it, get it yourself. Sergeant Pike will kill you before you get three paces.”

  “How’d you get that then?”

  “Bribery.”

  “With what?”

  “Said I’d kick his ass if he didn’t give it to me.”

  “I could try that too.”

  “No you can’t. You’re an officer. It’d be bad form.”

  “Whatever.”

  As they ate in companionable silence Forge gazed at the old campsite. A thought struck him.

  “Portal get away OK?”

  The First Sergeant looked at him in mild surprise.

  “Get away? He’s still here. See,” he pointed. “There’s his tent, still pitched. And Pike took his horse with the others.”

  “Now that is interesting. Come on.”

  They two men wandered over to Portal’s tent and ducked inside. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom they saw the wizard seated on a canvas chair. The man appeared distracted, head resting on a balled fist, gazing at the floor. A few moments later he glanced up at the
soldiers.

  “Do you think you can hold them here?” he asked.

  Forge shrugged.

  “I am tired of being used, Forge,” continued Portal. “I care little for this war or for you. But I want to hurt Burns. Your little command seems the most obvious way.”

  “We aren’t just here to help you get revenge. We ain’t doing this for our health, Portal,” advised Sergeant Mac.

  “Indeed. I am not sure that you are doing it out of any sane reason I can see. No matter, I will stay and lend you the benefit of my modest powers.” He turned his eyes back to the floor.

  The two soldiers exchanged a surprised look.

  ”Alright then, wizard. Planning meeting in one hour,” said Forge. “Why don’t you get something to eat?”

  Portal inclined his head in acknowledgement and made to leave but stopped, stood still for a moment, and then turned back to look at Forge.

  “Captain?” said Portal. “Whilst I doubt you will listen to my council, I would suggest you keep a close eye on your young lieutenant.”

  “Really? Why?” responded Forge with genuine interest.

  “I am a student of human nature. In the current light of things perhaps not as good as I thought but...” he stopped and shrugged. “I often know when a man is masking agitation or fear. I would suggest that your man may be hiding both. Often a very bad combination, wouldn’t you say?”

  Forge tilted his head and sucked in his lips and chewed them. “Indeed they are, wizard.”

  Portal gave another tight smile and departed.

  Forge and Sergeant Mac left the tent after him and walked back to the fort.

  “That’s a turn-up for the books,” Sergeant Mac observed.

  “Just goes to show I guess,” agreed Forge. “Reckon he’ll be any use?”

  “Could be. Interesting he said that about Locke. Just what we were thinking.”

  “Yeah, maybe a warning in the shape of an olive branch,” surmised Forge.

  “Still, even if he is wrong, Portal must know a few tricks and such,” added Sergeant Mac brightly.

  “Let’s see if he can’t do something with our fire trench, give it some extra,” he paused as he searched for words, “oomph or something. Flames, fire demons, big explosions. Whatever.”

  “Right, boss. Oomph.”

  Juma joined them.

  “Captain, my men have gone back into the woods to fashion weapons.”

  “Oh right, the bows and stuff.”

  “Yes, but not for your men. I am sorry. We make only weapons for ourselves. That is all the time we have. But we can use them, too.”

  “Pity. But, I guess you have been working your balls off.”

  “I do not have any balls, but I think I understand,” said Juma. “Would you like to see your new tower?”

  Forge had hardly noticed the construction work that had taken place in the last few hours. Juma led him through the gate hatch into the courtyard. He had been loitering outside all day, constantly looking across the water; just in case the Harradan arrived early. Not that he distrusted the estimates of his two scouts. He was just antsy. As he stepped toward the fort, he was pleasantly surprised to see the fruits of the Bantusai’s labours.

  The tower now looked like some crazy fusion of wood and stone. The missing walls of the eastern side had been rebuilt in wood, similar in construction to that of the gateway. They had been extended to the height of the third, open storey of the tower and a little over to mimic the protection of the battlements at the top. They now had a working tower again. Indeed he had his redoubt. What particularly pleased him was that the Bantusai had not stopped there. They had constructed a further small lookout tower on top of the third storey. It was a simple, hasty affair but it gave them a greater view and another place to attack from. He looked over at Juma. “I’m impressed.”

  “Please,” Juma indicated that he go inside.

  To do this he had to get past another obstacle. The three wagons that the Company used to transport its stores were drawn up in a box formation around the entrance. There was only one gap between the end of the western-facing wagon and the tower wall. It was wide enough for one man to get through if he went side-on. Inside, benches had been set up so that men could stand upon them and reach down upon any attackers on the other side. Good, that would slow down the enemy and give them a chance to get safe within the main tower. Anyone wanting to break the door down would have to heave the wagons out of the way, and catch hell from above in the process. He walked though the doorway into the first floor. Another hatchway, similar to that used on the gate was resting against the wall. Above him he saw a sturdy looking wooden floor.

  At the side of the tower, where the stairs started, another crude barrier had been erected. A wooden wall now covered the once-open stairway as it led up into the next level. He was mindful that in a siege the enemy might try and burn them out. Fortunately, Juma had had the same idea and the wood was fresh and green, having come from the hearts of the trees. They would not burn easily. This all meant men could defend against a successful penetration into the building. He could see how this would pan out for real. Whoever was left would be able to make them fight for every square inch of territory. Just as it should be.

  Forge walked up the stairs. Once more he found another enclosed space. A trapdoor was laid to one side to cover the stairway. As he had seen from outside, the eastern wall was now made of wood and a small opening led out onto the eastern parapet of the north wall. This mirrored the stone framed exit in the west wall. That way if the fort was breeched, men could retreat along the parapet and get inside. Further barriers were set to seal these holes when necessary. Above him was another wooden floor and running at a steep angle were the steps to the third storey. He climbed these and emerged into the daylight. Around him set in piles on each side of the parapet were large rocks and blocks of stone from the ruins. They would break the heads of those trying to enter the tower. He glanced around him nodding approval.

  “Hey, Juma? Damn good work. Sure you still don’t want a job with the engineers?”

  “No, Captain,” said Juma with a grin. “It sounds like hard work.”

  Forge laughed and then walked up to the watchtower set in the middle of the roof. Climbing up it he went through a crude hole cut in the bottom of the floor and emerged onto the top of the platform, some ten foot above its base. It did have a guard rail that went up to about waist height and even a roof above it. One man could stand relatively comfortably up there. Not that he wanted to. He wasn’t very fond of heights. In this position looking out he could see the fort below him and all his men. In fact, being a very clear and bright day, he could see for miles, if you liked looking at trees that is. Northwards he could see how the land rose sharply, climbing up into the mountains. He could trace the line of the river, a jagged cut in the tree line for quite some way. He could do the same southwards for a couple of hundred yards, before it went out of sight. In the far distance he could actually see where the forest ended and the more open country began. The very way they had travelled only days past. It felt like a long time ago. Sadly, his view to the east was not very useful. They weren’t going to get much of an early warning of people making for the crossing. He turned away feeling that he had seen enough. At this height, the effect was such that unless you bent over the side to look, you couldn’t actually see the tower below you. It gave him the unsettling feeling of being on top of a very thin, very precarious pinnacle. He climbed down and got his feet back on the solid floor.

  “Juma, you guys have excelled yourselves. If we get out of this I will personally pay for you and your boys to go home in luxury. Comfortable beds, a nice big boat and nice fancy coaches.”

  ”Really? You would do this?” said Juma in surprise.

  “Didn’t you hear? Officers get paid a fortune,” stated Sergeant Mac as he joined them from below.

  Juma raised his
eyebrows and again looked at Forge who shifted in embarrassment.

  “Well, no. Not personally. But I would make sure the bloody Army did.”