From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [17]
Another whimper. The sound was coming from the far corner of the room. Not a puppy, though. A weeping child.
Understanding fell on Achan. “Matthias, come here.”
The sound turned to sniffling. Bare feet padded over the floor until Matthias’s silhouette stood at Achan’s bedside. The moonlight shone on the lad’s tear-streaked cheeks.
Achan’s chest tightened. “You miss your father?”
Matthias sniffed. “Yes, sir. And Mama. And Linos. The bed is so big. I used to share one with my brothers… before.”
“How many brothers?”
“Three, sir. But Armas had his own bed.”
“So, three of you in one bed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Must have been cozy.”
Achan got up and dragged Matthias’s straw mattress across the room until it was beside his bed. “Get in.”
Matthias scrambled onto the mattress and pulled the blanket up to his chin.
Achan climbed back into bed and propped his head on his fist, looking down on the boy’s face. “Who’s Linos?”
“My brother closest to me, sir. He’s lived nine years.”
“I’m sure you’ll see him again.”
Matthias turned wide eyes to Achan. “Father said I might never see any of them again.”
“Oh. Well, I can’t promise you will, Matthias, but I’ll do all I can to see it happen.”
Matthias hummed and squirmed. “Thank you, sir.”
“Now go to sleep.”
“Yes, sir.”
The next time Achan woke, voices were coming out of the privy.
He sat up, squinting in the dim light. Shung’s pallet, which had been dragged in front of the entrance to keep Achan from sneaking out alone, lay empty.
The distant sound of a trumpet tooted. He slipped out of bed and walked to the privy. Shung stood at one of the privy’s arrow loops, an arm around Matthias’s waist. The boy stood on the ledge of the hole. Both peered out the northwestern arrow loop.
The trumpet sang again, this time louder. Men were yelling. Horses whinnying. Achan stepped inside and wrinkled his nose at the rank smell. “What is it?”
Shung turned his hairy profile to Achan. “Castle under attack.”
A prickle scuttled up Achan’s neck. He lunged to the northeastern arrow loop and peeked out. Thick, black smoke filled the pale, predawn sky. The northern vineyards were ablaze, as was the roof of the stables. A man and woman were setting horses off at a run from the stable doors. Two other men stood on ladders fighting to get the fire out. One shoveled off the burning thatch with a pitchfork, while the other heaved shovelfuls of dirt up on the roof.
Movement beyond the stables caught Achan’s gaze. Men dressed in black scaled the wall.
“They’re using the fire as a diversion.” Achan’s heart raced. “We must dress for battle.” He ran back into his chamber, opened the armoire, grabbed his padded stockings and jerked them on. They sagged around his waist. He snatched his gambeson and pulled it over his head. The satin felt cool and soft on his bare skin. “Shung, help me.”
By the time Achan’s eyes came through the opening of the gambeson, Shung and Matthias were at his side. Matthias fumbled with the points so much that Shung had to do them. The lad had memorized the order in which Achan’s armor was to be attached, so now he went about laying items out in a row on the floor. Shung held up Achan’s mail trousers.
Achan put a foot into one leg of the trousers. Sir Caleb, the castle is under attack. The enemy scales the northern inner curtain wall while our soldiers work to quench the stable fire.
We are aware of the attack. I’ll tell Captain Loam about the men scaling the wall.
Achan seethed inside. Sir Caleb, this is the second time the enemy has attacked while I slept. You will wake me next time, is that clear?
Of course, Your Majesty.
Achan was dressed in all but his gauntlets, gorget, and helm when the doors burst inward and Sir Caleb strode inside. He fixed his owl-like eyes on Achan. “Oh, no, Your Majesty. You’re not going out.”
“Of course I am.” Achan waved Matthias toward the gorget.
“Captain Loam and his men are meeting the threat. There