Takeo's Chronicles, page 142
The akki screams never ended, and they fled on towards the fortress walls.
Arrows streamed out again, this time pelting human and akki alike. A man beside Takeo took an arrow to the arm, another up ahead to her leg, the latter crashing down as she stumbled at a full sprint. The line shifted seamlessly, not at all troubled by her loss. The section of the ladder she’d carried kept on, unhindered and propelled by the insanity of war. All around, the Hanu ranks began to close in together as they neared the walls.
Over the roars and battle cries, Takeo heard the ropes of the catapults let loose, and another round of boulders filled the air.
“Right!” Takeo shouted. “Right!”
He pushed against his section of the ladder—which bowed all too much for his liking—shoving his entire line right two full paces and none-too-soon. A boulder landed just where they’d been and rolled on with deadly force, flattening dirt and grass instead of dozens of soldiers. A hail of arrows quickly followed.
Another ladder carrier in Takeo’s crew was hit, and a shaft struck wood less than a hair from Takeo’s hand. Adrenaline spiked through Takeo’s veins at the proximity. His legs were on fire because the ladder was heavy and their pace was maddening, but he pushed harder still, for every moment spent running toward the wall was one more free shot the Katsu got to take.
The akki reached the Katsu walls first, or rather the moat that surrounded the place. Some were so terrified they dove into the water, only to be swept away in the ocean waves. Their screams died out as seawater filled their lungs, making others pause just long enough for the Hanus to reach them.
Those carrying the ladder in the front slammed their ends down into the dirt just before the stream, and those in back pushed and heaved, combining momentum and muscle to fling the ladders up on a wide arc to slam against the Katsu walls. The ground surrounding the fortress was thick now with bodies, red from either armor, skin, or blood, while arrows and rocks rained down as fast as the defenders could loose them. Screams were perpetual now, and Takeo’s ears perked at every nearby whistle as yet another shaft came dangerously close to ending his life. He waited until the ladder swung up and hit the Katsu walls before pointing his sword at the nearest akki.
“You,” he commanded. “Up!”
“Ack!” it shouted back. “You trick us! No!”
It went to say something else, but Takeo slammed his blade into its stomach. The creature died with shock on its face. He ripped his sword free and pointed the wet blade at the next closest, unfortunate akki.
“Up!” he yelled.
It squealed and obeyed, grabbing the rungs and flying up them as fast as its long limbs would allow.
“Up,” Takeo repeated, yelling at all the creatures. “Up! I won’t give you the chance to retreat. Up the ladder, now!”
All around, similar orders were being carried out in equally brutish fashion. Little red bodies scampered into the air escaping one enemy for another, and the ladders began to sag under the weight. The wood bent at the joints, creating a slight crescent moon that bent over the moat.
Takeo risked a glance up but then ducked as a storm of arrows hailed down on them. Human screams mixed with those of the akki, and Takeo cried out as a shaft buried into the fleshy part of his upper shoulder.
“My lord!” Kuniko shouted, reaching for it.
“Leave it,” Takeo commanded over the roar. “It's not mortal. Rip it out now, and it will only bleed.”
Pain arched up and down Takeo’s right side, from fingertips to brain, but he was too well practiced to let it do anything other than feed his adrenaline. As another akki went up, Takeo grabbed the ladder and started to follow. Ping followed right behind. Off to their right somewhere in the distance, the sounds of a ladder snapping and crumbling echoed out. Either it had broken under excess weight or had been shattered by Katsu defenses. Takeo hoped it was the latter.
Takeo’s ladder groaned under his added weight, the knots of rope creaking loudly over the battlefield. Takeo’s heart skipped for the first time as the ladder dipped, and Takeo found himself climbing too much along the horizontal axis for his liking. He looked up just as another akki scream came from above, and a little red body with lanky limbs tumbled out of the sky, bouncing against another creature on the ladder and sending that one to the ground, too. One scaly mass hit Takeo, and he might have been knocked loose had Ping not grabbed hold of him from below. Takeo steadied himself, swallowed the searing agony rushing through his shoulder, and pushed against the akki above him.
“Climb!” he bellowed. “I said climb, or I’ll ram you through!”
Takeo couldn’t see the top of the ladder. That was half the reason a ladder assault ever worked. Those below couldn’t see their fellows dying in droves as they tried over and over to secure a spot atop the walls. The screams could still be heard, though, along with the steady rain of corpses toppling down and splashing into the moat. Takeo heard another ladder shatter and he swore.
Takeo climbed up another body length only for his own latter to let loose a groan and sag a step further. The wood strained in his grasp, and he glanced down to see Ping had been joined from behind by several others.
“Thin out!” he yelled, but he was up too high, and the clamor was too loud for him to be heard. “Ping! Tell them to thin out! They’ll snap the ladder. Back, you bastards!”
An arrow zipped by Takeo’s ear, taking a few strands of hair, and then impaled some unfortunate soul through the throat. A child-sized boulder followed quickly after, grazing the ladder on its swift and terrible trajectory into the waters below.
“Up!” Takeo yelled, and he heard another ladder snap, followed by a dozen akki and human screams.
He caught sight of another ladder breaking, just a short way to his left. Bodies tumbled through the air, landing either in the water or on their fellows. He scanned the air for the offending boulder, but he found none. The ladder had broken on its own. Fear pulsed through his body.
“Hurry!” Takeo yelled and stuck the akki above him with the tip of his blade.
The akki screamed and scampered around to the other end of the ladder, facing Takeo but also protecting itself. Its long nose bumped against the rungs.
The catapults loosed again, having been adjusted to lob their loads a short distance over the moat. The boulders wouldn’t have any momentum to roll, but they did their job just as well. With the Hanu packed so tightly beneath the walls, they could not miss. Screams merely preceded their impact as the boulders quickly crushed anyone below them.
Another akki tumbled down Takeo’s ladder, bouncing against its comrades. Takeo clambered up the rungs, holding his sword in his arrow-struck arm and climbing with his good hand. The ladder groaned and shuddered so hard his foot missed, and he bounced against the wood. The near fall sent a wave of vertigo ripping through him because he was nearing the top and the walls were close. The sounds of the battle could be heard above, a twisted combination of akki screams and cries mixed with human grunts and cheers.
“I said to thin out!” Takeo roared and looked down.
He paled as his eyes took in the sight of the ladder half as stocked as he would have liked. His army had indeed thinned out along the ladder, spread out so much that it would impede the assault, yet still the ladder was buckling under the weight. The knots strained and frayed, the entire contraption bending toward the river as if the ocean waves beckoned for it. Meanwhile the soldiers on the ground did their best to take cover from the torrent of projectiles raining down on them. They were trying to climb the ladder to join the assault as much as to get out of danger.
To his right and left, other ladders were bending just as badly. He risked a glance up, but he had no way of knowing if the akki had gained any purchase on the wall—and he wouldn’t know either, not until he was at the top. His moment’s pause almost cost him dearly as a nearby archer took direct aim and let loose. Takeo pulled in close to the ladder at the last second, and the arrow ricocheted off the back of his armor.
Takeo pushed up, trying to urge the akki on before the archer strung another arrow, but the ladder groaned in his grip again as yet another body joined the line. Takeo heard a violent snap and cringed, but the screams that followed came to his right and he knew it was a different ladder that broke. His relief was short lived, however, as a shadow fell over him.
He looked up just in time to see a boulder get lobbed over the side of the walls, land on the akki above him, and bash through the rungs.
The ladder snapped apart in his hands.
Chapter 12
The akki that took the brunt of the boulder’s fall spiraled into the air after splattering those below with blood. Takeo followed shortly as the ladder broke at eye level, and gravity hurled the contraption forward. Takeo released the ladder on instinct, but not before he was infected with enough momentum to slam into the Katsu walls face first, dazing him as his spine folded against the unforgiving stone.
The ladder fared much worse.
It bounced against the wall for an instant before the sudden shift in weight shattered what little resilience the wood and knots had left. Takeo went into a free fall, his blurred vision returning to clarity only to find the world spinning about him, cycling between falling bodies and ladder bits. His trajectory sent him crashing into the wall again, doubling his whirling speed and forcing a howl from his throat before he slammed into the moat.
Saltwater filled his mouth and lungs. The spinning world didn’t stop in its intensity as the swift tides took over, and Takeo flailed about for air before he even knew which direction was up. His hand broke free for a brief moment before a hunk of ladder crashed down on him, forcing out what little air he had left. More saltwater poured into him, and his insides burned to the point that it was all he could do not to retch. He kicked the ladder off and started for the surface again, breaking free and taking one gasp of air before being thrust under by a tide. He reached for the surface again when someone grabbed his wrist and yanked.
Ping, half submerged himself, hauled Takeo onto the shore. The ronin’s body struck dirt with a wet slap, and he spit saltwater out into the grass. Ping followed a moment later and tossed himself over his lord. Arrows pelted down around them, one slamming into Ping’s leg and another into his back. The man yelped but otherwise kept breathing by some form of a miracle.
“My lord!” came a shout, and Takeo looked up to see Kuniko kneeling over him. “My lord, they’ve spotted you. They’re taking aim!”
“Stay under me, my lord,” Ping said, straining from arrow wounds. “I’ll protect you.”
“How many?” Takeo croaked out, throat dry from the salt.
“Archers? I'm not sure.”
“Ladders,” he said. “How many ladders do we have left?”
“Only two remain, I think,” Kuniko replied.
“Get off me,” Takeo shouted. “We need to get out of here.”
“My lord?”
“Sound the damned retreat!”
Takeo scampered out from beneath Ping, an arrow grazing his cheek as he did so. Kuniko grabbed the horn about her neck and gave it two mighty blows, her call ending just as the catapults released another volley, momentarily followed by another bout of screams.
The wound in Takeo’s shoulder burned as the mix of saltwater and air churned against the wood, blood, and muscle. He let the pain lend him strength as he joined his army in the mad dash away from the fortress. Their retreat was hounded by enemy cheers, arrows, and boulders, and the Hanu army left behind far more than its dead.
Takeo didn’t look back until they’d gotten clear of bow range, and even then, he only paused to survey the carnage.
The entire field around the fortress was littered in red: Hanu soldiers in their red armor either lying dead or running away, a flood of akki scampering off in the distance to the north, oni trudging up the rear, blood everywhere and on everyone. The fortress walls looked like borders to a mass grave, its walls untouched by the death below. Shattered ladder bits perforated the place, mixing with the dead or dying with no concern for the damage they’d caused. Takeo scanned the crowd until he found Nicholas—easily distinguishable with his height and wild hair—making his own retreat among the soldiers.
“My lord, we need to get you back to camp. You’re injured,” Kuniko begged.
“We lost,” Takeo replied. “I need to see it with my own eyes.”
One of the oni made a direct charge for the ronin, and it took Takeo a moment to see past all the arrows that pin-cushioned the creature to realize it was Borota. The oni’s eyes were ablaze and its mouth twisted into a snarl.
“That was foolish, you human,” it said, black blood oozing along red skin. “Using the akki like that. Tokhta is going to be furious.”
“Really? And here I thought I was using them properly. I didn’t know the oni valued akki lives so much.”
“It’s their obedience we need. They’ll rebel again for sure after what you did. Look, they’re already scampering off.”
“I gave you a chance to have input when I invited Tokhta to join my battle planning. It’s not my fault he didn’t show.”
Borota scoffed and snorted.
“Make all the excuses you want,” it said. “The fact is you gambled and lost. The next hand you play will be much weaker.”
Takeo knew that was true, but his pride dared not let him admit it to a creature such as this. As the oni glared at him, he glared right back until the thunder of an approaching komainu horde broke their gaze. It was Yoshida and his guards who had sat the battle out. Takeo couldn’t blame him, though. Ladder assaults were no place for old men.
Borota trudged off before the daimyo joined them.
Yoshida charged right up to Takeo, looking far more concerned than angry, and Takeo felt his first measure of relief for a brief second. He wasn’t in the mood for another round of scolding.
“What in the world happened?” Yoshida demanded. “I saw the ladders break in moments.”
“I don’t know,” Takeo replied. “I thought we tested them enough. It’s like the knots frayed loose or something. They all bent like twigs.”
“You’re injured.”
“Barely. I’ve had worse. Ping’s the one you should be surprised about.”
Takeo jerked a finger at the man, and sure enough, Yoshida balked when he saw an arrow shaft protruding from that one’s back.
Ping grinned.
“The akki are fleeing,” Yoshida explained, unnecessarily. “They reached the camp first, but then didn’t stop. They’re sprinting off in all directions, though the majority are heading north. Did Borota say anything?”
“He said they’re going to rebel. We’ve lost them—I lost them.”
Yoshida swore. Kuniko straightened.
“We’ll hunt them down, my lord,” she said. “Desertion will not be tolerated, whether human or akki.”
“We haven’t the time,” Takeo answered. “Our forces were drastically short before this assault, now we’re worse off than before. I can only imagine the casualties. Botan will celebrate tonight, for sure. We didn’t so much as scratch him.”
The field had gone quiet on the Hanu side. The Katsu, however, had stopped lobbing rocks and arrows to cheer. Takeo could make out the walls stocked full of onlookers, whooping and throwing fists into the air in triumph. Their roars intensified for one brief second, and the crowds turned toward the gate and drew back. Three loan figures strode onto the ramparts. One was dressed as a normal samurai, but the other wore stunningly blue colors, as befit a royal of the highest status, and he stood tall above the others. The third had blonde hair, and the other two forced that one to his knees.
The Katsu cheers intensified.
“No,” Takeo whispered, eyes widening and jaw going slack. “Damn it, no.”
“By Valhalla,” Nicholas shouted, just a short distance away. “Gavin!”
Botan drew a sword—surely Takeo’s sword, though one couldn’t be sure at this distance—and made sure to wave it so the steel glinted in the sunlight. Then he set it to the side of Gavin’s head and began to saw away.
Takeo couldn’t hear the screams, not over the Katsu army cheering and howling for blood, but he imagined them all the same. He could make out how the other soldier struggled to keep Gavin still as Botan hacked at the poor knight, cutting off what Takeo assumed to be an ear, and then held it up for all to see. The Katsu roars were maddening, and Botan held the grisly trophy aloft for several moments before flinging it carelessly over the walls.
Takeo’s heart pounded in his chest.
“Another ladder assault, then?” Yoshida said, his tone implying he knew the answer.
Takeo shook his head.
“Our morale is broken, our forces reduced, and our fodder run off,” Takeo said, watching as they drug Gavin off back into the bowels of the fortress. “Siege engines are all we have left. There isn't enough material for towers, or the time to build trebuchets. We’ll never get a battering ram up to that gate over the moat. We’ll have to build catapults, mobile ones, and push them onto the field at the time of combat. Whether we can destroy their walls or equipment before they destroy ours will be the flip of a coin, but it’s all we have left. We haven’t the time for anything else.”
“Sounds a tad hopeless,” Yoshida replied. “Don’t you think?”
Takeo reach up and grabbed the arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder. He took one quick breath and then ripped it free, blood spurting out along with little bits of wood.
“I don’t have hope,” he said. “Just reality. Get it done.”
* * *
If Takeo had written a list of all possible options for putting Botan’s head on a platter, building siege engines would have resided on the bottom of that list, hastily written as an afterthought with a question mark at the end. It wasn’t that siege engines were terrible ideas as a rule. Quite the contrary, they could be indispensable tools in the right situation. The problem—or rather problems—lay in the fact that there was nothing right about this situation at all.
