The CRES code

Chapter Fifty Two - Riding

     The next day, the whole city was there to watch as the aristocrats went out to stand the wall.

     There were around two hundred of them, aged between fifteen and thirty, all dressed in shining, polished armour decorated with strips of bronze and carrying long spears that looked as though they had never been used. Five hundred of the city's professional soldiers accompanied them to the Nasby District, the place where the outer wall was highest as a result of the land outside falling into a depression filled with rocks and scrubby plants. It was the very last place the orcs would attack, but for that very reason the wall there had been left in disrepair with weeds and even small trees growing in it, their roots gradually pushing apart the great blocks of stone of which it was composed. Randall had no doubt that it would soon be repaired to be as smart as the rest of the wall, now that it was to have such illustrious guardians.

     A crowd of common folk lining the street on both sides shouted and jeered as the aristocrats marched past, but nothing was thrown while they had the soldiers to protect them. "I assume they're just to make sure they get to the wall safely," said Dolly Bannermane, standing beside Randall as they watched from an upper window of The Interesting Weasel. "Once they get there, the soldiers'll spread out all around the wall like they usually do, right?"

     "I suspect they've been ordered to stay where the aristocrats are," said Randall, though. "They're there to protect them from us just as much as from the orcs."

     "But that means there's only half as many soldiers to man the rest of the wall! To protect themselves, they're putting the rest of us in greater danger!"

     "The wall is thirty thousand yards long," pointed out Randall. "If they were spread evenly, that's still just one soldiers every thirty yards. Their contribution to the city's defence is quite small compared to the militia. I expect the soldiers'll do what they usually do; stay mobile. Go to there the fighting's fiercest to reinforce the ordinary citizens."

     "But now there are only half as many of them to do the reinforcing! To do that for just two hundred extra defenders means the city is actually less well defended than it was before!"

     Randall agreed but he didn't care. "I expect this is just a temporary measure," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if the aristocrats end up being officers of the militia, spread out around the wall, and the soldiers spread out with them. As soon as the threat of being lynched has passed. The aristocrats are scared at the moment. Scared of us. As soon as the fear's had a chance to fade, I imagine that the chance to order people around will be quite attractive."

     "VIX cursed cowards!" said Maisey, coming forward to join them at the window. "Having to be dragged out of their fancy mansions like toads from a stone."

     "The important thing is that they're out," said Randall.

     No, he was thinking, though. The important thing is that I have power now. People do what I say. Even the aristocrats listen to me, although grudgingly. The common people, though... To them, I'm a superstar!

     As if to emphasise the point, a group of young men walking past in the street below saw Randall in the window and cheered up at him. "Hooray for Watt Fletcher!" they shouted, taking off their hats and waving them. "Hero of Elmton!"

     "Aye!" shouted another. "Give him a good riding, Dolly! He's earned it!"

     "We both will!" shouted back Maisey. "Right, mum?"

     "You will not," said Randall to Maisey. "What would young Eddie say if he found out?"

     "He won't mind sharing me with you. You're Fletcher, the hero!"