The Walled Cities

Chapter 42

Like a bullet from a gun I set off across the field, screaming at the top of my lungs as I did. I did not care if the guards noticed, as my screams were the least of their problems. Around me others added their own yells as they rushed across the field.

Concentrating on my pwn journey, I kept my breathing steady as I continued through the field. My legs used to long treks gave no protest as the full out sprint. Later once I was bruised and bloodied they would probably complain, but I had to be alive for that to matter.

Ahead of me the wall loomed, a line of a dull grey stone, the likes of which no one knew how to replicate or even what it was. I was careful to slow to a walk as I neared it, having no desire to slam against it. Just as I reached it someone from atop the wall screamed, and fell headfirst over the wall.

The body landed just to the left of me, hitting the ground with a audible crunch, much like that when you broke the neck of a chicken. Moving over to it, I glimpsed a face with just the wisps of a beard. Doing my best to ignore the crushed youthful face, I checked the body for weapons. Much to my disgust I only found a medium sized knife. A spear lay nearby, yet I was no expert with such a weapon and was not about to try me luck now.

Shoving the knife through my belt, I glanced across the field. Most of my group had made it across, a dozen were either injured or helping the injured back to safety. All of the ladders had made it and with the shout, "Up and over," they were braced against the wall.

Using the one closest to me, I scrambled up to the top of the wall. Around me others did the same in the scramble to overwhelm the defenders before they could get organized. Somewhere in the city, a horn of sorts sounded, no doubt a call to arms of sorts.

Climbing the last of the rungs of the ladder, I flinched as another body sailed past me to the ground below. The sharpshooters were doing there jobs, but having a man fall past you was unnerving no matter what. Their accuracy would be the deciding factor shortly, as now they could do little while we fought atop the wall.

Atop the wall, I did my best to examine the fighting. Few of the attacking force had made it to the top, and they were no match for the defenders. Axes and swords swung by muscles gained through experience cut flesh and bone. Unskilled as I was in the arts of combat, I pulled out one of my pistols.

Before I could assist my fellow men, a screaming War Wolf came towards me. Swinging my hands in his direction, I squeezed the trigger of the pistol. Ignoring the jump of the gun, I added a second shot. Grunting the man's legs buckled, leaving him staring into the sky. Adjusting my grip, I unloaded the magazine in an accurate rapid fire. Four men joined the first before the gun was empty. Conscious that my back was undefended, I jammed it into a pocket and pulled out my other one.

Pain scored my right arm as a something scored in. Turning on my heel, I came face to face with a man wielding a blood splattered knife. Without hesitation I fired, opening up a red blossom in his stomach. Sending him over the ledge to the cobbled street below with a knuckle popping punch to the chest, I stared at the row of defenders farther down. Most were doing their best to keep my group from scaling the wall, but that meant that only a few were unoccupied enough to notice me.

Concerned with the defenders closest to me, I dropped five with precise shots before a sword slashed across my calf. Collapsing against the wall, I was quickly surrounded by a dozen of my men as they took advantage of the weakened defense. Grateful for the protection, I took stock of my injuries as more of my men climbed the wall and pushed the defenders back. Besides the cut in my leg, and the other in my arm, my hands stung from a series of scratches, and my ears rung slightly from all the shots.

Teeth grit I wrapped my leg as best I could with one of the cloth bandages I carried. It would slow the bleeding, at least long enough for me to secure a spot for a aid station to be set up. Yet that would not happen if I just sat here, surrounded by my fellow fighters. Unwilling to use my carbine in such close quarters I pulled out the medium knife I had taken, along with a two foot oak club I had fashioned. It was not pretty, but I knew I had a better chance clubbing someone over stabbing them with a knife.