Takeo's Chronicles, page 150
Emy readied her claws, but Takeo peered over the side.
Directly beneath them was a row of lean-tos with wooden roofs lying against the stone of the fortress. Takeo knew from experience these would be covering weapons, lying at the ready for use in case the entire garrison was summoned to fight. He flung his gaze to the gatehouse, a small stone room set directly on the farther side of the drawbridge, where heavy chains slunk down into it for use in lowering and raising the gate. The slits where the chains went through the roof were too small for any man to fit through, yet the exposed chains were too thick to break. Anyone attempting to do so would be exposed.
Takeo dove from the stairs to the wooden roofs below, breaking his fall with an acrobatic roll that sent spikes of pain shuddering through his fractured ribs. The roof shook a moment later as Emy landed beside him, grabbed his clothes, and yanked him to his feet. Takeo dashed across the wood, his footsteps a thunderous clacking that mixed all too well with the intensity of the shouting that rose all around them. The roofline shook again as the other two soldiers joined them, albeit far away, while darkened figures darted out of nooks and crannies about the courtyard. The stationary torches began to move as soldiers ripped them from their sconces and hefted them toward the commotion.
Takeo narrowed his gaze on the task at hand.
He reached the last lean-to and leapt off the side without pause, aiming to clear the remaining distance to the gatehouse in a single bound. Four guards already clogged his path, the sum of which Takeo only counted on instinct before his right foot cracked into the face of one of them.
As that one hit the ground, moaning, the other three recovered their shock and drew swords, which was all the time Emy needed to vault onto the scene. She slammed one guard into the ground with her landing and struck a second with her claws. The third squared off with Takeo, making one deft parry before the ronin's second attack punched through the man’s lungs.
Blood pooled about the scene, and the torchlight was mere moments from reaching them. Dozens of Hanu were en route, with many more voices echoing off the stones all around.
“The lock, rip it off,” Takeo commanded, reversing his blade and executing the injured guards on the ground.
True to Emy’s first report, the gatehouse was sealed with a heavy iron door, not so much as a slit defacing its protection. However, for whatever reason, the lock was on the outside and padded like a normal prison door. Emy grabbed the lock with both hands, braced against the stone, and yanked with all her rakshasa might. The locking mechanisms within broke before the iron itself, and Emy pushed the door open, darting inside with Takeo short on her heels.
Takeo slammed the door shut and braced himself against it, digging his heels into the stone cracks and turning himself into a human brace. He could only hope that Emy could deal with whoever was inside alone.
Yet she wasn’t moving, or so it seemed in the almost total blackness inside.
“What is it?” Takeo asked.
“There’s a second door,” Emy replied, panic slipping into her voice. “How did I not hear about this? Damn that paranoid shogun.”
Takeo was about to respond when the soldiers on the other side reached their shelter and a hard slam jarred Takeo’s entire body. The door was knocked back a hair before Takeo rammed it shut again, and then a second slam rocked him in place. Angry shouts vibrated through the metal.
“What are you waiting for? Rip the lock off,” he yelled.
“There isn’t one,” Emy growled back. “The door’s right in front me, and there’s nothing, just metal on stone. Everything is on the other side, lock and hinges. It won't open!”
The door rocked again, and Takeo gritted his teeth as he struggled to maintain his position. Only by way of sheer leverage was he holding the door in place, but this wouldn’t last long. In fact, it wouldn’t even last for more than a few seconds. Takeo might be faster than any man, but he certainly wasn’t stronger than any two.
“Break it down,” he grunted, legs shaking. “Do something!”
The small hallway rang as Emy rammed against the door with all her strength. It was too dark for Takeo to tell if anything happened, but a second ring pierced his ears a moment later. Again, again, and he heard Emy grunt in pain, then roar. The scraping of claws digging into stone echoed among the shouts and slams, and Emy hit the metal door again with all her might.
The door burst open, sending Emy sailing through atop the thick sheet of metal to crash and slide across the floor. Torchlight poured in, illuminating the flying pieces of bolts and hinges that had shattered under her assault before they rained down on stone like empty gunslinger shells. Just beyond the short hallway was the man-sized drawbridge wheel, wrapped with the heavy chains.
Also illuminated were four guards with swords poised in the air.
The blades rammed down, and Emy screamed as one punctured her calf and another her arm. One she dodged completely by the sheer luck of rolling over, and the last scythed into her collarbone just an inch from her neck. With her one free hand, she lashed out at the one with the blade close to her neck, raking her claws up the man’s groin, and his screams turned the room into an echo chamber. The man fell but left the blade, and Emy ripped it free while the guards drew back for another strike.
Takeo braced against another shudder, only barely holding the door in place as fingers wrapped around the edges. Then he pushed off the door and darted inside, letting the whole thing loose unexpectedly. The guards on the other side plummeted through, three of them all at once, crashing atop each other and choking the way with their flailing, scrambling bodies.
Takeo sprinted into the chamber. Sword in hand, he rammed one guard straight through, abandoned the blade, and tackled another, sending them both to the ground.
“The door!” Takeo screamed, then cut short as he and the guard fell into a brawl.
Emy leapt to her feet, grabbed the iron door as if it were made of paper, and dashed to the entrance. She reached it just as the mass of guards on the other end recovered, and the opposing forces collided with a sickening thud.
The rakshasa won.
The iron door was rammed back into place, though slightly off center, and Emy braced herself against the stone. The one guard not entangled with Takeo was quick to follow, charging Emy and impaling her unprepared body through the shallow beneath her ribs. She roared, but she was no human. It would take more than that to drop her. She let loose one arm to grab the grinning soldier by the throat, his expression turning to shock just before she yanked his head into the metal door. He crumpled, and she pulled the sword out slowly, gasping and grunting, all the while holding the door against the trio on the other side.
Takeo only caught glimpses of this as he struggled with the last guard. Not a small man by any means, he knew how to throw a punch and had quickly caught on that Takeo didn’t take blows to the stomach well. The battle quickly turned one-sided as Takeo was forced into a corner and the guard wailed on him. The fight might have ended there if Takeo’s hand hadn’t found a broken hinge, which it clenched and then slammed into the guard’s temple. The man crumpled, and Takeo climbed on top of him to finish the job, slamming down again and again with the hinge until spurts of blood, bone, and brain coated the scene.
Takeo stood up and whipped his vision clear, sucking air through strained lungs. He saw Emy struggling to remain steady, eyes blinking in long strokes, one hand holding the door, one hand holding her wound.
It was already starting to seal up with her rakshasa abilities, but she’d been stabbed thoroughly four times and had lost a fair bit of blood. Takeo could tell that she was leaning on the door as much as she was bracing herself against it. Only the shouting and the steady slams against her frame kept her conscious.
Takeo darted over and used his sword as a wedge against the door, assisting her defense.
“Can you hold?” he shouted, but she only closed her eyes and did not open them, so he slapped her hard. “I said, can you hold?”
Emy’s eyes dilated, her ears flattened, and she bared her canines. A blood-chilling growl issued from her throat.
“Better,” Takeo said.
He dashed to the wheel and made a quick inspection. He knew these devices well; they were designed to be difficult to operate by one man, though not impossible. The drawbridge was operated by two torsion bars. Right now, both were in place, but only one was wedged by the weight of the bridge. He'd have to get it free all on his own.
“Hurry,” Emy roared as the door rocked against her.
The shouts echoing off the stone walls were maddening, making Takeo’s heart race despite the clear path before him. He grabbed one torsion bar, the loose one, and yanked it free of the wheel. He held the bar up in both hands like a weapon and slammed it down on the other, jarring it in place and sending vibrations shuddering up his arms. Takeo took a stance and swung again, the bar ringing so hard in his hands that it hurt. Again, again, again, and it seemed he was timing his blows with the slams against Emy’s shaking frame.
Nothing.
He screamed and swung again, aiming not for the lever but for the floor beneath as if he meant to snap the bars in two. They collided, sending the bar spiraling from Takeo’s hands, while the other bounced up, freed for just one second, then flew loose as the wheel spun free.
The chain rattled like thunder in the tiny house, picking up speed until the chain was a blur to the human eye. Takeo backed away, and not a moment too soon, as one of the torsion bars rolled under the wheel, caught the chain, and was flung like a chaotic projectile into the wall, carving out a chunk of stone.
Precious moments slipped by as the wheel spun and spun, the heavy chain making rapid, horizontal laps as it unwound at a frightening pace. Takeo held his breath and braced for impact. The entire floor shook like an earthquake as the drawbridge crashed to ground. The wheel spun back once, yanked against its chain, and then came to a rest.
Silence followed. Even the guards on the other side of Emy’s barricade had stopped. Takeo’s ears were ringing from the noise, but it seemed to him no one was breathing. He looked up at the slits in the gatehouse roof to find thin rays of morning light beating back the blackness of the night sky.
Then faint at first but growing in intensity, he heard the low roar of an army in the distance.
Chapter 20
A violent slam struck the wedged door, rocking Emy in place. The sword Takeo had used as a wedge flung free and slid across the ground. Emy’s ears flattened and she bared her teeth as she strained to ram the door back in place. From the other side, voices rang out in a unified shout.
“They brought a battering ram,” Emy called out.
The door slammed against her, knocking her back a full hand width before she growled, dug her claws into the stone cracks and thrust back. The metal clanged hard against the walls, yet not so loud as to drown out the steady command from the other side for the men to throw their backs into it.
“Hold, we have to hold,” Takeo replied. “We can’t let them raise the gate.”
He grabbed a torsion bar and sprinted over, digging one end into the ground and ramming the other up against the door. He leaned on it, adding his weight to the leverage.
The next slam jarred Emy’s side more than Takeo’s, but they weren’t flung back like before. The bar vibrated so much that it made Takeo’s teeth chatter and turned his insides to mush.
There were only two portals in this entire room: the door and the chain slits overhead. The former was an echo chamber of howling and frantic commands, but the latter was a hole through which the outside world could be glimpsed. Takeo heard the telltale sounds of catapults being cranked into place. Occasionally, he even heard the chorus of a flock of arrows being let loose into the morning air. Commands were being issued to raise the entire garrison, calls for donning armor and grabbing weapons, and for some damned fool to get into the gatehouse.
Another slam against the door rocked Emy and jarred Takeo’s senses. He had to clench his jaw to keep from biting his own tongue. A secondary thud vibrated the small room, yet the torsion bar did not shake, and a sinking feeling dropped into Takeo’s stomach. He opened his eyes as a third and then forth thud struck the gatehouse, and he was able to identify its source on the adjacent wall, facing the courtyard.
“They’re trying to break in,” Takeo said.
As if to confirm this, the wall shook loose a layer of dust, and two stone blocks in the dead center cracked inwards. The torch on the ground cast brooding shadows over the scene as another thud echoed out. One of the two blocks gave way, further thinning that line of defense.
“When they break through, you take them,” Emy said, straining as another door-breaking ram struck her bruised shoulder. “I can hold this one.”
A chunk of stone was flung out from the wall, and the end of a metal hammer blew through covered in chunks of rock and gray dust. It was yanked back through, letting in tiny fragments of light to fight against the orange flicker of the torch.
Takeo waited for one more strike against the door, then dashed to the new opening, scooping up a katana along the way. As the next hammer blow fell against the wall, so did a length of blade stab through, and Takeo felt resistance and heard a scream come from the other end. He quickly pulled his weapon back before anyone could grab it, noting the layer of blood that ran down its length, then dropped the blade and dashed backed to Emy. He flung himself on top of the torsion bar just in time, though he didn’t brace himself hard enough, and the impact jarred him so bad that he lost his grip and fell to the floor. But the door held, and several seconds passed before the next hammer struck the wall.
“Damn it, Qing. Where are you?” Takeo growled and stumbled to a stand.
He paced back over to his sword, stopping to shield himself as another chunk of stone was flung free and blew bits of pebbles and dust into his face. He grabbed his sword and, in the process, got a clear view of the rows and rows of armored Katsu blue troops on the other side, two of whom were wielding warhammers. At the sight of Takeo, or his shadow more like, with hair cut to shoulder length, their eyes widened.
“It’s him!” one called out. “He's inside!”
“Break it down, boy,” came the reply, somewhere to the left. “Hurry, or we’re all dead.”
The hammer blows fell, one after another in rhythmic fashion, bashing chunks of stone with feverish passion. Takeo swore and shielded his eyes again. He wasn’t going to get another strike in, not at this distance and not with the hammer blows felling like they were. He ditched the sword and fell back to Emy, bracing the bar again.
Another jolt shook the two in place, but it was clear death came only from one end now.
“Where are they?” Takeo asked in between hammer and ram strikes.
“The fighting has reached the drawbridge,” Emy said, ears flicking. “Best I can tell, Botan sent a force out to stop our troops from crossing inside. They’re trying to hold the line outside the fortress, probably with the hopes of getting in here and raising the bridge again.”
“I should have known,” Takeo said.
Just then, a heavy thud struck the roof, and the morning sunlight coming through the chain slit was blotted out. The only thing Takeo could imagine was that some officer up on the walls had gotten desperate and dropped a boulder on them. Not so much as a crack appeared, though, but then something worse happened. A heavy roar echoed down to them, quickly followed by a flurry of hammer blows on the stone.
“Damn,” Takeo said, teeth clenched tightly. “Damn it, damn it all.”
A full block of stone fell free from the roof and crashed to the ground.
“How can that be?” Emy snarled. “They'll break through the roof faster than the wall.”
“The roof is thinner at the top,” Takeo explained, more as outlet for his rising fears than anything else. “The stones have to be lighter because of the weight, plus there’s already a hole, structurally weak. The walls can hold for another minute, but the roof won’t. Not against that kind of assault.”
“Well then,” Emy said, straining as she dug in her heels. “You better get ready to fight.”
“Die,” Takeo corrected. “Get ready to die.”
He lurched off the door after the next thud rocked them both and dived for his sword. Another hammer blow to the wall spit chunks of stone across him, and he shook his head to clean pebbles from his hair. Takeo kicked the torch on the ground out of his way, then stood a pace from the ever widening hole above them. Sword poised to skewer, he prayed the soldiers above were overzealous enough to jump first and look second. With luck, he’d kill several before they took him down.
The hammer blows from above pounded furiously, faster than those against the wall, and the air became choked in dust as chunks of stone flew in all directions. Whole blocks plummeted and littered the floor. In no time at all, the chain slit was wide enough for a man, and a dark figure plummeted through, blocking the sun and howling like mad. He hit the ground, and Takeo went to thrust, but stopped only because the massive man hadn't dropped his warhammer despite the fall.
Takeo’s blade paused just a hair’s length from skewering Nicolas’ throat.
“By Valhalla!” Nicholas swore, stumbling back and throwing up a hand far too late. “Takeo! You almost killed me.”
Takeo blinked, just as stunned as the viking, and dropped his sword tip.
“Nicholas? How did you get in here?”
The viking grinned and pointed up. “Damned Katsus are holding a good line. It was taking too long for my liking, and Qing's. She said you needed help. Thankfully, I brought rope and a grappling hook. As for how I got down here, well, let’s just say that gate chain can hold some weight.”
“Well, as glad as I am to see you, I think you just doomed us. Soldiers are going to come pouring in here now. We need to hold this room until our troops get inside. We can’t let them raise the drawbridge.”
Nicholas took one look at the wheel, one look at his hammer, and his grin grew.
“Hold the line,” he said mockingly. “What a samurai thing to say. Let me show you how a viking solves his problems.”
Directly beneath them was a row of lean-tos with wooden roofs lying against the stone of the fortress. Takeo knew from experience these would be covering weapons, lying at the ready for use in case the entire garrison was summoned to fight. He flung his gaze to the gatehouse, a small stone room set directly on the farther side of the drawbridge, where heavy chains slunk down into it for use in lowering and raising the gate. The slits where the chains went through the roof were too small for any man to fit through, yet the exposed chains were too thick to break. Anyone attempting to do so would be exposed.
Takeo dove from the stairs to the wooden roofs below, breaking his fall with an acrobatic roll that sent spikes of pain shuddering through his fractured ribs. The roof shook a moment later as Emy landed beside him, grabbed his clothes, and yanked him to his feet. Takeo dashed across the wood, his footsteps a thunderous clacking that mixed all too well with the intensity of the shouting that rose all around them. The roofline shook again as the other two soldiers joined them, albeit far away, while darkened figures darted out of nooks and crannies about the courtyard. The stationary torches began to move as soldiers ripped them from their sconces and hefted them toward the commotion.
Takeo narrowed his gaze on the task at hand.
He reached the last lean-to and leapt off the side without pause, aiming to clear the remaining distance to the gatehouse in a single bound. Four guards already clogged his path, the sum of which Takeo only counted on instinct before his right foot cracked into the face of one of them.
As that one hit the ground, moaning, the other three recovered their shock and drew swords, which was all the time Emy needed to vault onto the scene. She slammed one guard into the ground with her landing and struck a second with her claws. The third squared off with Takeo, making one deft parry before the ronin's second attack punched through the man’s lungs.
Blood pooled about the scene, and the torchlight was mere moments from reaching them. Dozens of Hanu were en route, with many more voices echoing off the stones all around.
“The lock, rip it off,” Takeo commanded, reversing his blade and executing the injured guards on the ground.
True to Emy’s first report, the gatehouse was sealed with a heavy iron door, not so much as a slit defacing its protection. However, for whatever reason, the lock was on the outside and padded like a normal prison door. Emy grabbed the lock with both hands, braced against the stone, and yanked with all her rakshasa might. The locking mechanisms within broke before the iron itself, and Emy pushed the door open, darting inside with Takeo short on her heels.
Takeo slammed the door shut and braced himself against it, digging his heels into the stone cracks and turning himself into a human brace. He could only hope that Emy could deal with whoever was inside alone.
Yet she wasn’t moving, or so it seemed in the almost total blackness inside.
“What is it?” Takeo asked.
“There’s a second door,” Emy replied, panic slipping into her voice. “How did I not hear about this? Damn that paranoid shogun.”
Takeo was about to respond when the soldiers on the other side reached their shelter and a hard slam jarred Takeo’s entire body. The door was knocked back a hair before Takeo rammed it shut again, and then a second slam rocked him in place. Angry shouts vibrated through the metal.
“What are you waiting for? Rip the lock off,” he yelled.
“There isn’t one,” Emy growled back. “The door’s right in front me, and there’s nothing, just metal on stone. Everything is on the other side, lock and hinges. It won't open!”
The door rocked again, and Takeo gritted his teeth as he struggled to maintain his position. Only by way of sheer leverage was he holding the door in place, but this wouldn’t last long. In fact, it wouldn’t even last for more than a few seconds. Takeo might be faster than any man, but he certainly wasn’t stronger than any two.
“Break it down,” he grunted, legs shaking. “Do something!”
The small hallway rang as Emy rammed against the door with all her strength. It was too dark for Takeo to tell if anything happened, but a second ring pierced his ears a moment later. Again, again, and he heard Emy grunt in pain, then roar. The scraping of claws digging into stone echoed among the shouts and slams, and Emy hit the metal door again with all her might.
The door burst open, sending Emy sailing through atop the thick sheet of metal to crash and slide across the floor. Torchlight poured in, illuminating the flying pieces of bolts and hinges that had shattered under her assault before they rained down on stone like empty gunslinger shells. Just beyond the short hallway was the man-sized drawbridge wheel, wrapped with the heavy chains.
Also illuminated were four guards with swords poised in the air.
The blades rammed down, and Emy screamed as one punctured her calf and another her arm. One she dodged completely by the sheer luck of rolling over, and the last scythed into her collarbone just an inch from her neck. With her one free hand, she lashed out at the one with the blade close to her neck, raking her claws up the man’s groin, and his screams turned the room into an echo chamber. The man fell but left the blade, and Emy ripped it free while the guards drew back for another strike.
Takeo braced against another shudder, only barely holding the door in place as fingers wrapped around the edges. Then he pushed off the door and darted inside, letting the whole thing loose unexpectedly. The guards on the other side plummeted through, three of them all at once, crashing atop each other and choking the way with their flailing, scrambling bodies.
Takeo sprinted into the chamber. Sword in hand, he rammed one guard straight through, abandoned the blade, and tackled another, sending them both to the ground.
“The door!” Takeo screamed, then cut short as he and the guard fell into a brawl.
Emy leapt to her feet, grabbed the iron door as if it were made of paper, and dashed to the entrance. She reached it just as the mass of guards on the other end recovered, and the opposing forces collided with a sickening thud.
The rakshasa won.
The iron door was rammed back into place, though slightly off center, and Emy braced herself against the stone. The one guard not entangled with Takeo was quick to follow, charging Emy and impaling her unprepared body through the shallow beneath her ribs. She roared, but she was no human. It would take more than that to drop her. She let loose one arm to grab the grinning soldier by the throat, his expression turning to shock just before she yanked his head into the metal door. He crumpled, and she pulled the sword out slowly, gasping and grunting, all the while holding the door against the trio on the other side.
Takeo only caught glimpses of this as he struggled with the last guard. Not a small man by any means, he knew how to throw a punch and had quickly caught on that Takeo didn’t take blows to the stomach well. The battle quickly turned one-sided as Takeo was forced into a corner and the guard wailed on him. The fight might have ended there if Takeo’s hand hadn’t found a broken hinge, which it clenched and then slammed into the guard’s temple. The man crumpled, and Takeo climbed on top of him to finish the job, slamming down again and again with the hinge until spurts of blood, bone, and brain coated the scene.
Takeo stood up and whipped his vision clear, sucking air through strained lungs. He saw Emy struggling to remain steady, eyes blinking in long strokes, one hand holding the door, one hand holding her wound.
It was already starting to seal up with her rakshasa abilities, but she’d been stabbed thoroughly four times and had lost a fair bit of blood. Takeo could tell that she was leaning on the door as much as she was bracing herself against it. Only the shouting and the steady slams against her frame kept her conscious.
Takeo darted over and used his sword as a wedge against the door, assisting her defense.
“Can you hold?” he shouted, but she only closed her eyes and did not open them, so he slapped her hard. “I said, can you hold?”
Emy’s eyes dilated, her ears flattened, and she bared her canines. A blood-chilling growl issued from her throat.
“Better,” Takeo said.
He dashed to the wheel and made a quick inspection. He knew these devices well; they were designed to be difficult to operate by one man, though not impossible. The drawbridge was operated by two torsion bars. Right now, both were in place, but only one was wedged by the weight of the bridge. He'd have to get it free all on his own.
“Hurry,” Emy roared as the door rocked against her.
The shouts echoing off the stone walls were maddening, making Takeo’s heart race despite the clear path before him. He grabbed one torsion bar, the loose one, and yanked it free of the wheel. He held the bar up in both hands like a weapon and slammed it down on the other, jarring it in place and sending vibrations shuddering up his arms. Takeo took a stance and swung again, the bar ringing so hard in his hands that it hurt. Again, again, again, and it seemed he was timing his blows with the slams against Emy’s shaking frame.
Nothing.
He screamed and swung again, aiming not for the lever but for the floor beneath as if he meant to snap the bars in two. They collided, sending the bar spiraling from Takeo’s hands, while the other bounced up, freed for just one second, then flew loose as the wheel spun free.
The chain rattled like thunder in the tiny house, picking up speed until the chain was a blur to the human eye. Takeo backed away, and not a moment too soon, as one of the torsion bars rolled under the wheel, caught the chain, and was flung like a chaotic projectile into the wall, carving out a chunk of stone.
Precious moments slipped by as the wheel spun and spun, the heavy chain making rapid, horizontal laps as it unwound at a frightening pace. Takeo held his breath and braced for impact. The entire floor shook like an earthquake as the drawbridge crashed to ground. The wheel spun back once, yanked against its chain, and then came to a rest.
Silence followed. Even the guards on the other side of Emy’s barricade had stopped. Takeo’s ears were ringing from the noise, but it seemed to him no one was breathing. He looked up at the slits in the gatehouse roof to find thin rays of morning light beating back the blackness of the night sky.
Then faint at first but growing in intensity, he heard the low roar of an army in the distance.
Chapter 20
A violent slam struck the wedged door, rocking Emy in place. The sword Takeo had used as a wedge flung free and slid across the ground. Emy’s ears flattened and she bared her teeth as she strained to ram the door back in place. From the other side, voices rang out in a unified shout.
“They brought a battering ram,” Emy called out.
The door slammed against her, knocking her back a full hand width before she growled, dug her claws into the stone cracks and thrust back. The metal clanged hard against the walls, yet not so loud as to drown out the steady command from the other side for the men to throw their backs into it.
“Hold, we have to hold,” Takeo replied. “We can’t let them raise the gate.”
He grabbed a torsion bar and sprinted over, digging one end into the ground and ramming the other up against the door. He leaned on it, adding his weight to the leverage.
The next slam jarred Emy’s side more than Takeo’s, but they weren’t flung back like before. The bar vibrated so much that it made Takeo’s teeth chatter and turned his insides to mush.
There were only two portals in this entire room: the door and the chain slits overhead. The former was an echo chamber of howling and frantic commands, but the latter was a hole through which the outside world could be glimpsed. Takeo heard the telltale sounds of catapults being cranked into place. Occasionally, he even heard the chorus of a flock of arrows being let loose into the morning air. Commands were being issued to raise the entire garrison, calls for donning armor and grabbing weapons, and for some damned fool to get into the gatehouse.
Another slam against the door rocked Emy and jarred Takeo’s senses. He had to clench his jaw to keep from biting his own tongue. A secondary thud vibrated the small room, yet the torsion bar did not shake, and a sinking feeling dropped into Takeo’s stomach. He opened his eyes as a third and then forth thud struck the gatehouse, and he was able to identify its source on the adjacent wall, facing the courtyard.
“They’re trying to break in,” Takeo said.
As if to confirm this, the wall shook loose a layer of dust, and two stone blocks in the dead center cracked inwards. The torch on the ground cast brooding shadows over the scene as another thud echoed out. One of the two blocks gave way, further thinning that line of defense.
“When they break through, you take them,” Emy said, straining as another door-breaking ram struck her bruised shoulder. “I can hold this one.”
A chunk of stone was flung out from the wall, and the end of a metal hammer blew through covered in chunks of rock and gray dust. It was yanked back through, letting in tiny fragments of light to fight against the orange flicker of the torch.
Takeo waited for one more strike against the door, then dashed to the new opening, scooping up a katana along the way. As the next hammer blow fell against the wall, so did a length of blade stab through, and Takeo felt resistance and heard a scream come from the other end. He quickly pulled his weapon back before anyone could grab it, noting the layer of blood that ran down its length, then dropped the blade and dashed backed to Emy. He flung himself on top of the torsion bar just in time, though he didn’t brace himself hard enough, and the impact jarred him so bad that he lost his grip and fell to the floor. But the door held, and several seconds passed before the next hammer struck the wall.
“Damn it, Qing. Where are you?” Takeo growled and stumbled to a stand.
He paced back over to his sword, stopping to shield himself as another chunk of stone was flung free and blew bits of pebbles and dust into his face. He grabbed his sword and, in the process, got a clear view of the rows and rows of armored Katsu blue troops on the other side, two of whom were wielding warhammers. At the sight of Takeo, or his shadow more like, with hair cut to shoulder length, their eyes widened.
“It’s him!” one called out. “He's inside!”
“Break it down, boy,” came the reply, somewhere to the left. “Hurry, or we’re all dead.”
The hammer blows fell, one after another in rhythmic fashion, bashing chunks of stone with feverish passion. Takeo swore and shielded his eyes again. He wasn’t going to get another strike in, not at this distance and not with the hammer blows felling like they were. He ditched the sword and fell back to Emy, bracing the bar again.
Another jolt shook the two in place, but it was clear death came only from one end now.
“Where are they?” Takeo asked in between hammer and ram strikes.
“The fighting has reached the drawbridge,” Emy said, ears flicking. “Best I can tell, Botan sent a force out to stop our troops from crossing inside. They’re trying to hold the line outside the fortress, probably with the hopes of getting in here and raising the bridge again.”
“I should have known,” Takeo said.
Just then, a heavy thud struck the roof, and the morning sunlight coming through the chain slit was blotted out. The only thing Takeo could imagine was that some officer up on the walls had gotten desperate and dropped a boulder on them. Not so much as a crack appeared, though, but then something worse happened. A heavy roar echoed down to them, quickly followed by a flurry of hammer blows on the stone.
“Damn,” Takeo said, teeth clenched tightly. “Damn it, damn it all.”
A full block of stone fell free from the roof and crashed to the ground.
“How can that be?” Emy snarled. “They'll break through the roof faster than the wall.”
“The roof is thinner at the top,” Takeo explained, more as outlet for his rising fears than anything else. “The stones have to be lighter because of the weight, plus there’s already a hole, structurally weak. The walls can hold for another minute, but the roof won’t. Not against that kind of assault.”
“Well then,” Emy said, straining as she dug in her heels. “You better get ready to fight.”
“Die,” Takeo corrected. “Get ready to die.”
He lurched off the door after the next thud rocked them both and dived for his sword. Another hammer blow to the wall spit chunks of stone across him, and he shook his head to clean pebbles from his hair. Takeo kicked the torch on the ground out of his way, then stood a pace from the ever widening hole above them. Sword poised to skewer, he prayed the soldiers above were overzealous enough to jump first and look second. With luck, he’d kill several before they took him down.
The hammer blows from above pounded furiously, faster than those against the wall, and the air became choked in dust as chunks of stone flew in all directions. Whole blocks plummeted and littered the floor. In no time at all, the chain slit was wide enough for a man, and a dark figure plummeted through, blocking the sun and howling like mad. He hit the ground, and Takeo went to thrust, but stopped only because the massive man hadn't dropped his warhammer despite the fall.
Takeo’s blade paused just a hair’s length from skewering Nicolas’ throat.
“By Valhalla!” Nicholas swore, stumbling back and throwing up a hand far too late. “Takeo! You almost killed me.”
Takeo blinked, just as stunned as the viking, and dropped his sword tip.
“Nicholas? How did you get in here?”
The viking grinned and pointed up. “Damned Katsus are holding a good line. It was taking too long for my liking, and Qing's. She said you needed help. Thankfully, I brought rope and a grappling hook. As for how I got down here, well, let’s just say that gate chain can hold some weight.”
“Well, as glad as I am to see you, I think you just doomed us. Soldiers are going to come pouring in here now. We need to hold this room until our troops get inside. We can’t let them raise the drawbridge.”
Nicholas took one look at the wheel, one look at his hammer, and his grin grew.
“Hold the line,” he said mockingly. “What a samurai thing to say. Let me show you how a viking solves his problems.”
