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The big smith shook his head. Don't know? What kind of a shit jester are you?
It's a wonder I keep putting my life in your hands.
If you put it that way... I cocked my head his way. It's an onion.
Odo groaned. Oh, you know that one. A trail of snickering filtered down the
line. Then he elbowed me and grinned. That's my boy.
All at once, from behind the walls, theping of a catapult releasing pierced
the air and a black projectile shot high into the sky. Murmurs rippled through
the ranks, men pointing as the object descended toward our front line.
Brace yourselves! Here it comes, someone yelled.
The projectile struck the ground and rolled to a stop only a few yards from
where I stood. My stomach fell.
The mound had features-hair, charred and singed; startled, round eyes bulging
out of their sockets.
I let out a sickened cry.
The face seemed to be staring at me. It had a grin that was both impish and
impudent. The eyes spat back in their moment of death, familiar, unmistakable.
Norbert!
His eyes looked at me as they had that first day, when Emilie brought me to
his chamber. I almost expected him to wink:Had you fooled ,didn't I ,boy? That
is the best you can do... ? Watch this!
I rushed out of formation and knelt over the remains. My ears were filled with
a deafening ringing. Countless images of things that had transpired since I
first set out from home flashed before me.
The ringing finally subsided. I raised the holy lance and, perhaps for the
first time, I believed in it. I looked at my men, who in their readiness
reminded me of horses unwilling to be held back.
Your freedom lies within those walls. Now,I shouted.Now is the time!
Then the cry from my lungs was drowned by the stampede of a thousand men
hurling themselves at the walls of Bor e.
Chapter 136
THE FIRST SOUND of battle was a belching groan from one of the mangonels, as a
massive rock was launched high into the sky and crashed with a thunderous
blast into the wall above the main gate. Fragments of stone and sparks and
dirt exploded everywhere. But when the dust cleared, the wall still held.
Then another boulder whistled into the sky. Followed by a third, both striking
high on the wall, shattering guard posts, sending bodies and battlements
flying like debris. Then a volley of flaming arrows.Whoosh. Some struck
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against the walls, sticking in wooden battlements, where small fires ignited;
others clattered harmlessly to the ground.
Then the mangonels again, this time with a cargo of burning molten pitch.
Defenders ducked; some screamed in pain, slapping at body parts. Others ran
around with buckets, dousing flames. The smell of tar and sizzling flesh
singed the air.
I raised my arm. Now, men. What is yours is within those walls. Charge!
Our men raced toward the walls in a mountainous wave of steel, spears, and
ladders. Eighty yards. The closer we got, the larger the walls grew. Sixty
yards...
I could see the faces of the defenders-ready for our charge, holding fast,
waiting for us to come within range.
Fifty yards...
Then, all of a sudden, the cry of,Tirez! Fire!
Arrows whooshed down from above. Our warriors stopped in their tracks,
arrowheads ripping viciously through their chests and necks. Hands clutched
the exposed tips.
Our roar was replaced by a thudding terror, followed by groans and death
cries. Aagh... Aagh... Aagh...
I stumbled over a Languedocian writhing on the ground, an arrow protruding
from his knee. To my left, a man in the skins of a shepherd spun around, his
eyes rolled back, holding both ends of an arrow through his jaw. Men fell to
their knees, howling in pain, praying, or both.
Don'tstop, I heard Daniel shouting. Get behind your shields. Youmust make the
wall.
The sweeping advance, narrowed to a crawl, continued. I saw Odo and Daniel and
Georges in the first charge. Twenty yards from the wall.
Above us, soldiers stood and fired. Lances were flung in reply. Some defenders
clutched at their chests with a yelp and fell over screaming, dropping from
the walls.
Dozens of ladders were thrown against the walls, the men climbing up.
Defenders reached over to push them off.
Bring in the cats, I shouted, as waves of boiling tar splattered down on us,
followed by screams and the smell of sizzling flesh. Advancing ranks pressed
into us from behind. Those in the front tried to climb the walls but were met
with burning pitch and lances. They toppled back into the arms of the men
behind them, spitting blood or swatting at their blistering skin.
The tall cats were pushed up to the front. For a moment, they provided a
refuge from the smoldering pitch, which sizzled on the moist, stretched skins.
Under this protection, men with a ram backed up and battered the gate over and
over. Crossbows were fired from directly above. A man next to me, not wearing
a helmet, had an arrow pierce the top of his scalp. From behind, the mangonels
continued, and an enormous boulder crashed into a tower. A cloud of smoke shot
up and when it cleared, the top of the tower was caved in and mangled body
parts fell away from it like branches.
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Screaming and panic reigned everywhere. Where is the mead table? someone
staggered by asking, completely befuddled. God save me, wailed another,
holding in his hand his other arm. In the furor, I lost touch with anyone I
knew.
The once-shiny walls of Bor e were soaked with mud, pitch, and blood. I had no
idea if we were winning or in the midst of being routed.
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