The Red Wyvern - Katharine Kerr [95]
With that, the men on the scaling ladders took control. Like the wave reaching high tide they climbed up and over to race along the wall. Screaming for reinforcements, squads of defenders rushed to meet them, but the attackers held. Down below, the ram charged again and smashed through wood so hard that it stuck. When a mob of the prince’s men swarmed to its aid, some of the regent’s men charged outside the wall to fight them off. From inside the dun horns sounded in a frantic cacophony.
“Ready and arm!” Caradoc screamed out. “Silver daggers, to the prince!”
Ahead the picked men of the wedge charged forward on foot to take the breach. Branoic drew his sword and readied his shield. Under him his horse shifted uneasily at the danger ahead. Still more men climbed the unguarded walls, then disappeared as they hurried down to attack the gates from within. All at once, the smashed remnant of gates began creaking open.
“We’ve got the winch!” Prince Maryn crowed. “Steady, men! Steady, steady—now!”
With a scream of warcries the horsemen charged the open gates. Men on foot scattered as they plunged through into chaos. At the far wall the regent’s men—Green Wyverns and Boars—were fighting a rearguard action at those inner gates. Regent’s men were climbing down the catwalks, leaping the last few feet to the ground, then running for the gates and safety. From round the other side of the hill mounted men galloped to meet the prince—Glasloc shields, Ram shields, the twined ivy blazon of Yvrodur. The north gate, too, lay shattered and open.
Screaming like a madman, the prince spurred his horse and galloped along his line with silver daggers streaming after him.
“Open the east gate!” he was yelling. “Let our men in! We can take the second ring! Hurry, run! Open the west!”
The regent’s men had abandoned the winches. Men with Cerrmor blazons took them over and began cranking. Mounted men poured through all four gates like water through a broken sea-dike. Silver horns were blaring; captains and lords were yelling at the tops of their lungs. The last of the regent’s men mobbed around the gates in the second, inner wall, yelling and screaming as they tried to push through to safety.
“Speed, men!” the prince cried out. “If we rush them, we can take those gates!”
The prince turned his horse so hard that his guards rode right past him. Swearing, they swung out in an arc to turn and ride back. The dust of the retreat hung like smoke, but Branoic could see the prince charging straight for the gates of the second ring at the head of a straggle of riders.
“My liege!” Branoic screamed. “Wait! Stop!”
Cursing a steady stream, Caradoc went charging right after Maryn with the rest of the silver daggers close behind. Branoic pulled out of line and yelled at every familiar shield he saw.
“Inside, get inside! The prince! He’s inside the second ring! To the prince!”
Whether they could hear or not, they seemed to understand. Half a hundred men at first, then more, galloped through the open gates of the second ring. Still yelling for reinforcements, Branoic followed. He rode through to see silver daggers riding down the regent’s men who manned the winch at the second ring’s east gate. Prince Maryn himself slashed down to kill the Boarsman at the handle. The regent’s men were running so hard for the safety of the third ring that they never noticed the royal prize to their rear.
“We’ve got the west gate, too!” a Cerrmor man was shouting. “Daeryc’s leading the charge there.”
The Red Wyvern army poured into the second grassy ring. Up at the third wall the regent’s men were running hard out for the gates, which slowly and inexorably creaked closed. One last unit squeaked through, but a couple