The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [196]
A crossbow bolt strikes Stig’s shield and ricochets away. Aleya turns her attention to the walls above them and sees three crossbowmen cranking up their crossbows for another shot. Immediately putting arrow to string, she aims and lets fly. The arrow sails true and sinks its head into the chest of a crossbowman. The man staggers a moment as his crossbow falls from his hands. Then he plummets off the wall down to the courtyard below.
“Get the gate!” Stig yells to the others as he moves to put his shield between Aleya and the crossbowmen. No sooner does he have his shield in place than two bolts are deflected by its hardened surface.
“Thanks,” she says as she readies another arrow. Then, “Lower your shield so I can get a shot off.” When his shield drops half a foot, she aims, fires and watches as her arrow strikes yet another of the crossbowmen.
Stig raises his shield to protect her while she readies for her final shot. Taking her last arrow from her quiver, she puts it to string then aims for the remaining crossbowman. Stig glances back to where the others are racing for the gatehouse to release the gate lock. One guard lies on the ground dead while Jiron engages with another. Scar and Potbelly race past the two locked in battle and make a dash for the stairs leading to the gatehouse.
“Now Stig,” she says bringing his attention back to their situation.
Lowering his shield, he hears her release her arrow and then watches as the third crossbowmen falls from the wall. “Good shot,” he says.
“Thanks for your help,” she says. Then she rushes across the courtyard to the fallen crossbowmen to retrieve her arrows. Stig goes with her just in case she needs protection again.
Scar and Potbelly reach the gatehouse and in no time the grinding of the gears which unlock the gate can be heard. Emerging back out of the guardhouse, Potbelly yells, “It’s open!”
James sees Jiron finish off his opponent and says to Brother Willim, “Let’s get out of here.” He heads to the gate with Reilin and Brother Willim helping Perrilin following close behind. Jiron reaches the gate first and pulls it open. Expecting there might be an attack, he quickly scans the area and is relieved to find the street on the other side empty.
Glancing back within the courtyard, he sees Scar and Potbelly moving to join him. Then he notices where Stig stands near Aleya while she works to remove one of her arrows from out of a dead crossbowman. “Aleya!” he hollers.
She turns her head to glance at him, then returns to working out the arrow.
“We don’t have time for that!” he shouts.
“He’s right,” Stig says to her. “One more arrow won’t make all that much difference.”
“It may,” she says. Inserting her knife between the man’s ribs wherein the arrow is embedded, she spread them apart enough to allow the arrow to come free. Wiping it off on the shirt of the crossbowman, she stands up and puts it in her quiver. “Okay, let’s go.” With Stig following behind her, she races across to where the others are waiting. She managed to retrieve two of the three arrows.
Jiron gives her a stern glare as they approach and she returns one equally as severe. Deciding this is not the time or place to argue with her, he leads them down the street away from the gate in the curtain wall.
“Perrilin needs to rest,” states Brother Willim.
“Can you lead us back to the inn?” James asks. “The people there will take care of him. He’s in no shape to continue with us.”
Jiron stops and glances to where Perrilin is sagging between Brother Willim and Reilin. “Very well,” he says. Moving out, he takes a right at the next intersection and begins taking them along the same path they took when they followed the other guy to the keep.
Smoke permeates the air. Thick, but not so bad as to be unbreathable, just annoying. The people out on the streets seem to be rushing in no apparent direction. Some are heading toward the fire while others appear to be fleeing it.
When at last the inn appears in sight, Jiron brings them to a halt. “What are we stopping for?” Shorty asks.
“Remember when we left, there were