From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [187]
She ran blindly after the soldiers until her shin struck something solid. She looked down to see the bottom rungs of a wooden ladder. She raised her shield to see more of it.
Jax grabbed the back of her belt and lifted. “Up you go.”
Averella climbed awkwardly, the heavy shield and armor weighing each step. Something glanced off the right side of her breastplate, knocking her sideways. Her foot slipped mid-step, and she fell, holding on with one hand.
Jax’s strong hands grabbed her legs and boosted her back up. She scrambled to find hand-and-footholds, then climbed as fast as she could.
It seemed strange that there was not more resistance to their climb, but when her eyes crested the parapet and she saw an enemy soldier crumple without having been touched, she knew her mother was helping them from the Veil.
Averella heaved herself over the parapet and drew her sword. She stood just north of the eastern gate on one arc of the scalloped sentry walk, looking out over the wall. Torchlight and the ghostly grey castle reflected off the inky black surface of Lake Arman, which surrounded the castle like an impassable moat.
To her right, Sir Eagan and his men occupied the gatehouse. Clanking chain signaled they were lowering the drawbridge. A half dozen bodies lay on the wall between the ladder and gatehouse—all enemy. She spun around to look inside the castle walls. Below, red and black cloaks swirled, swords clashed, men screamed, birds cawed.
She cringed at the cacophony. Shifting shadows on the ground lifted her gaze back to the skies. Gowzals swarmed like houseflies overhead, the thickest cluster over the distant watchtower, which glowed at the top with eerie green light. Her heart clenched at the idea of Achan going up there. Who would he find at the top wielding that light?
“Look sharp, Vrell!”
Jax’s voice pulled her attention back to where she stood. A line of New Kingsguard knights approached from the north along the curved sentry wall like a line of ants. There must have been a hundred or more, all coming their way.
She looked back to the gatehouse. Jax stood outside the doorway, waving her in. She skipped sideways for a few steps, then ran inside.
“Bowmen!” Sir Eagan stood in the center of the gatehouse. “Two in each door. Quickly!” Three men ran to the southern doorway. Sir Eagan lowered his voice and grabbed the third man’s arm. “Kates, you on this side.”
Averella pressed back to allow Kates, a bearded, red-headed man, to kneel just outside the northern door. She glanced through the opposite door and saw just as many enemy soldiers advancing from the south.
“We must keep the bridge down for Captain Chantry’s men,” Sir Eagan yelled. “Take aim and await my signal. And consider the curve of the wall when you shoot.”
The floor trembled under Averella’s boots. The distant clatter of footsteps sounded like rain. But the thudding of her heart proved this was no spring shower.
“Shoot! Now! Take them down!” Sir Eagan pushed a quiver of arrows into Averella’s chest. “When the men run out, fill their quivers with these.”
Averella set down her shield and took the quiver. She sheathed her sword and moved to the doorway. The shuck, shuck, shuck of arrows leaving the bowmen’s strings was constant and methodical. Kates was a quicker draw than the soldier beside him, but both seemed to never miss. Black-cloaked men fell before their comrades and were trampled or tossed over the wall. Still the enemy advanced.
Kates drew his last arrow, and Averella pushed a handful of arrows into his quiver before he managed to raise his arm again. He never had to wait. She did the same for the other bowman. Both shot arrows until there were no more.
“I’m out!” Kates jumped to his feet, swung his bow over his arm, and drew his sword so quickly Averella lunged out of his way.
“Hold the gate!” Sir Eagan yelled. Averella, stay back if you can, at least until the melee passes.
Averella glanced at her father, but he had turned to the southern doorway. She picked up her shield and