Page 6 of Beyond The Wall


  Chapter 6

  The bells rang through the night, Orleena could hear the cries of men from the city through her window. She pulled herself up out of bed and raced to see what was happening. In the distant, buildings in Lowtown burnt. She raced to her closet and pulled out here pants and tunic.

  Kara was at the door.

  “What’s happening?”

  “A fire,” replied Orleena calmly, “you should go back to your room and stay there.”

  The night guard appeared as Orleena threw her nightgown to floor and pulled on her clothes.

  “What have you heard?” asked Orleena to the guard.

  “No word from the other towers, I’ve sent some men. I have raised the rest from their beds.”

  “I need eight of the best to come with me. I’ll head to the Royal Keep. Get the horses, no carriages. Ready my armour. Everyone else stay here and watch the tower. No one enters or leaves until I return.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  The guard vanished.

  “Be safe,” said Kara.

  “It’s just a fire. We just have to keep the people from panicking.”

  Kara smiled and Orleena brushed part her quickly and grabbed the sword that she left leaning by the doorway.

  Orleena hurried out of tower and into the moist, winter air. She hurried across the grounds to the small guard house where she kept her armour. The guards, all in different states of dress, shook their heads as they tried to throw off the greyness of the early morning and fumbled with their armour. She saw a stable boy hurrying past with a stool.

  “Boy,” Orleena called to him, “help me with my armour.”

  The young boy looked at her, nodded and brought over the stool.

  The boy had her strapped into her armour and she was walking out into the yard.

  The bells still rang though, down in the garden, the cries of panic from the common folk came much clearer through the iron grate of the front gate.

  The boy helped Orleena onto her horse.

  “You do as I say,” said Rae as he trotted over, “I am not your Kin tonight.”

  Rae had become the captain of her guard last year when Orleena had brought the talented soldier into her family, a man of only twenty one years. A native to the northern tar pits, he had enlisted in the wars in the Lowlands when he was twelve. The life in the front line had harden and aged to the young man beyond his years, but the life had also shaped a type of warrior Orleena had never seen inside the walls of Hallow Keep. Orleena had refused to let him leave her city after she saw his skills on full display when he easily won the tournament held during the festival of Gella’s Slumber.

  “As far as I know the city is under attack,” Rae continued, “I take you wherever you want to go, but you follow my commands. No Questions. No Hesitation.”

  “Understood,” Orleena said simply.

  Rae turned to her seven guards men on horseback.

  “I want a circle around the Princess at all times, no one leaves formations unless I say.”

  The guards kicked their horses and surround her tightly. Her short stature kept her well hidden within the wall of metal and flesh.

  “Open the gate,” barked Rae and the huge portcullis started to rise.

  When the gate was high enough the circle kicked forward, her horse, trained to follow the ones around it, moved forward without her command.

  Once the walls of the tower were behind her, the shouts of the commoners became deafening. Rae shouted at them to fall back and let them pass. Some refused and were cut down without another word. People were running for the gates at the rear of the city which led into the swamp, she wondered what they were running from. The screams and shouts of desperation gave no clue.

  Orleena hated it, she wanted to break from the circle and ask the people what they had seen, she had never seen a fire cause such panic before. The people were mad with fear.

  A group of man came running from around a corner, one screamed at each other to take the horses. The group set upon that with clubs made of broken table legs and kitchen knives. The circle rocked violently as hands came up and grabbed at a guardsman.

  A rider behind lost his balance and fell to the ground. Rae broke from the circle and took to the attackers. The circle closed, instinctively, around Orleena as screams and blood filled the air behind them.

  Rae shouted curses at the commoners as he hack at them with his sword. Orleena looked back and saw their hands and clubs had turn to focus on the young man in his hard grey armour. Rae showed no mercy and one thug was taken, then two with a single stroke, another was kicked as Rae’s horsed reared itself and pummelled the assailant with its hooves.

  The circle continued to move through the streets and Orleena lost sight of Rae as the streets turned, but after only a short time he was back at the front, leading them through the chaos. The rider who had lost his saddle rejoined a moment later, blood dirtied his armour. He swayed slightly in his saddle, but gripped the reigns as tight as the others, his sword still raised high.

  More townsfolk fell as Rae pushed hard through the city. He paused for none, woman with children cut down without thought, old men who hobbled out of the chaos, crushed beneath. The men who had turned on their own came and fell as well.

  The crowds and buildings thinned as they climbed the path to the Royal Keep, but there were still people waiting, nervously, crying for the guards to open the gate and let them in. The horses stopped a few feet in front.

  “Princess Orleena demands entry,” shouted Rae to a man at the guardhouse window.

  There was a short pause.

  “By the small door,” shouted Uncle Frank from the dark window above.

  “Orleena, dismount,” ordered Rae and a guards moved out to the side to give her space.

  “Run for the small door, now,” said Rae’s voice.

  Orleena ran as fast as her legs could take her towards the gate, her armour weighing her down, she heard the people cry behind her. It opened just as she was on it and then shut the moment she was beyond.

  The front garden was dark, empty and quiet. The shouts and screamed of those outside silenced by the tall walls and heavy doors.

  Uncle Frank appeared.

  “What are you doing here, girl?” he shouted, “you could’ve gotten your men killed.”

  “What’s happening?” she snapped, knowing never to speak softly to Uncle Frank.

  “Why would I know?” shouted Uncle Frank, “the city is not my business.”

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “I am not his nursery maid,” spat Uncle Frank, turned to a man by the tower door and barked, “where’s Olav?”

  “The Prince, did not return from watch house this evening.”

  “There. You should keep a closer eye on your brother.”

  “Have you seen Uncle? Grand Pa?” asked Orleena.

  “Di Aliza likely dealing with fire, Di Soven’s would be in his chambers at this hour.”

  Orleena ran through the Royal Keep, down its twisted halls and up and then down its unordered stairs. She pushed opened the doors to Grand Pa’s private chamber, out of breath. It was empty.

  Orleena called the servant boy.

  “Where is the Emperor?”

  “I don’t know, my lady,” he replied nervously, “he has not returned this evening.”

  “Have you seen Captain Da Raloff?”

  “I can help you find her,” said the boy with smile.

  “Quickly.”

  The boy led her from one servant to the next, the keep was awake and full of worry for the family outside the walls, the people threw questions at Orleena but she had no answers for them.

  The boy led Orleena on the long trail Da Raloff had left that night until they found standing in the war room. She was suited in her dull, beaten, grey armour she wore into battle.

  “Orleena, what are you doing here?” she asked looking up from the table.

  “Trying to find out what is going on,” said Or
leena quickly and dismissed the boy with a wave.

  “The Imperial Guard is gone,” said Da Raloff as she kicking the large table.

  “Grand Pa is missing,” said Orleena.

  And then the dark thoughts were on her.

  Lowtown burns.

  “Olav is at the watch house we must make sure he has the city in hand,” ordered Orleena, “then we must find Grand Pa.”

  “We can’t go out in there without a guard.”

  “Uncle Frank has men, we will have his.”

  Orleena ran for the room not looking back, trusting Da Raloff would follow.

  Back in the garden she yelled for Uncle Frank and after a few moment he standing front of her.

  “We need fifteen of your best men,” demanded Orleena, “we need to get to the watch house.”

  “What madness is this?” he shouted back, “I have a keep to protect.”

  “Your brother is missing,” yelled Orleena, “and there are flames in Lowtown.”

  “What are…”

  Orleena hit the belly of his armour with all her strength.

  “I don’t have time,” she shouted, “its a wretched man who can’t keep his own brother.”

  Uncle was lost for words. Orleena hit the belly of his armour again.

  “Get me fifteen men and horses, we have to stop this.”

  Uncle Frank glared at her and then turned to the men in guard house.

  “Get the fifteen men and horses for Orleena,” shouted Uncle Frank.

  “You’re coming with us,” barked Orleena, “you need to start acting like a brother instead of a suited house master.”

  “Watch yourself, girl,” he growled.

  Orleena hit his armour again.

  “Strike me if I am wrong or shut up and get your helmet.”

  Uncle Frank stood from a moment stiff, ready to strike, but then turned and stormed into the guard tower screaming orders at the men inside, who scattered in a hundred direction.

  Orleena’s mind ran fast. She had ignored it for years, thinking herself silly for even entertaining the idea, but now she stood helpless while her city burnt.

  Men scrambled and Orleena was on a horse again, Da Raloff had taken command of the guard as they had assembled. Uncle Frank rode a top his well-bred, silver steed to Orleena’s left, his sword drawn.

  “Keep around Princess Orleena and Prince Frank,” barked Da Raloff from the front.

  “I don’t need a guard,” shouted Uncle Frank, “watch the girl.”

  Orleena unsheathed her sword, the guards were not as well marshalled as her own and that made her nervous. The horses wandered from their formation even they were not moving yet, the men shuffled, awkward in their saddles, their wrists that held their sword were limp and crooked.

  “We head to the watch house,” Da Raloff called to the men and then turn to the gate tower, “open the gates.”

  The gates swung open and the road beyond were full of desperate souls rushing towards the Royal Keep. Smoke had started to rise from the houses of Hightown. The fire had jumped the inner wall, or worse.

  “Forward,” ordered Da Raloff and Orleena kicked her horse.

  The crowd surged with desperate to get under the gate before it closed. Arrows flew threw the air causing some in mob to fall to the ground. The back of crowd started to scatter, but the front did not stop. They yelled, screamed and cried as the bodies fell upon them.

  A few fell to the swords in front many tripped and found themselves below the horse hooves. The rest just ran past, their focus on the safe gardens of the keep, which were slowly disappearing behind.

  Arrows shot out again at those at the back that had persisted, more men fell to ground screaming as the arrows dug into their flesh. There was the sound of cries as the commoners clashed with House Guard, then barking, as the hounds were released.

  The circle picked up pace as the mob vanished behind them and the road cleared.

  “Faster,” shouted Da Raloff as she led them into a canter through the city streets.

  The group wound their way past the crooked houses and over the stone islands as quickly as she could. The cities core had begun to empty as the people had fled into the swamp.

  A large number of men were upon them. They leapt from allies and roofs, two of the guards men were pulled from their horse and the circle broke as they tried to help their fallen comrades.

  “Stay in formation,” shouted Da Raloff at the men.

  Orleena sliced at a face that came at her from below, cutting deep in the flesh, the face fell back. She then stabbed at another landing a blow to the shoulder. She was not trained to fight from horseback and the horses movement beneath her made her blows inaccurate and weak.

  A hand grabbed Orleena by the waist, she swung her sword and it collided with a bucket sitting atop a head. Something laughed from underneath and pulled her from the horse. She fell to the ground with a thud and the breath was knocked from her, but she had enough strength to bury the sword between to metal plates hung around the body and pierce the gut. She pulled back her sword and the creature fell back screaming.

  Another was on Orleena and she kicked at the legs but they stayed standing. She tried to move, but her legs slipped in the blood and dirt. Her breath was still gone, her chest felt crushed. Da Raloff took a sword and stuck the thing, twice. Da Raloff whirled her sword, again, at something unseen and Orleena felt blood spill across her as a body came down on top of her. Da Raloff pushed the body aside and helped Orleena to her feet.

  The horses had fled, but the guard was still with her Uncle Frank hacking at two badly armoured thugs as he ran towards them.

  “Follow,” he barked to the guards and the group started moving through the street on foot.

  They moved quicker without the horses and Orleena felt more confident. A woman lunged from the shadows and Orleena dispensed her with ease, then a large man with a beard lay behind her, coughing blood. A creature with a bowl on its head and a blacksmith’s apron as armour came and Orleena found its exposed back and struck.

  Hallow’s fury had taken her, as Pa would say. She felt nothing of her body but the grip of the blade and her feet pushing against the earth, she saw nothing but what needed to be seen, the beasts in made of pots and pans, the stones on the road that threaten to catch her feet, the blood which made the earth slick.

  Orleena did not see the fire that burnt in the windows around her or the bodies that lay broken in the streets. More fell to her blade, young, old, man, woman, it did not matter, they came at her and she sent them to the Abyss.

  The group was at the watch house, outside stood two Imperial Guards draped in their purple. At their feet lay the ones who had dared to approach.

  The guards shouted something, Da Raloff slashed their throats before they could react and disappeared into the door. Orleena and the others followed. Inside they found five Imperial Guard lying in their own blood. Behind the bars of the large prison cell was Olav and about twenty of the city guard.

  “What happened?” asked Da Raloff.

  “They came in this afternoon with Grand Pa,” said Olav as Da Raloff found the keys, “he ordered me in. I had to do it.”

  No, you didn’t, you fool, thought Orleena angrily to herself but bit her tongue. Not now.

  “What are they doing out there?” asked Olav desperately searching for his armour.

  “They’re in Lowtown,” said Da Raloff quietly.

  “His going after the outsiders,” barked Uncle Frank, “say it, damn you. And he won’t stop til they’re all dead.”

  “We have to talk sense into him,” said Da Raloff.

  “He won’t listen,” said Uncle Frank his voice quiet for the first time, “when Di Soven starts something he doesn’t stop til its done,”

  “Come, let’s get to a gate,” said Da Raloff refusing to listen.

  The group, larger now, returned to the chaos of the city. The people that crawled the streets watched themselves for a few moments before
retreating back into the dark alleys.

  The nearest gate that led to Lowtown was only a few blocks away. The portcullis lowered. Uncle Frank went to the lever to raise it.

  “Someone’s broken it,” he cursed.

  The chain that fed into the stone work had also been hacked apart and now lay broken on the ground.

  Orleena saw only what was on the other side of the gate. A pile of blood soaked bodies, piled on top of each other, some still moved. Arn, Dun, Sowan, Kaborn all of who called Lowtown home. Desperate hands still clung to the cold, metal of the gate, now frozen in place.

  She look up through unbelieving eyes at what lay beyond. Against the blazing inferno of Lowtown silhouettes of organised men in armour marched along the empty street looking for those that still lived.

  “Di Soven,” shouted Uncle Frank banging on the gate, “show yourself. Your brother demands it.”

  The men who marching through the street either could not hear or did not listen.