Chapter 56 #2
Peering around his shoulder, she understood why he had stopped.
General Zimri stood less than twenty paces ahead of them. He had just walked through the left tower, leaving the door open behind him as he spoke with two soldiers.
Ian angled his body to look down over the hill outside the castle, as though that were the real reason they had climbed the staircase.
Robin did the same, positioning herself to the side of the nearest archer so that she could get a better view.
From this vantage point, she could see the full expanse of the green hill that sloped down toward the city.
Much of it was still covered with the crowd of people.
The majority of them were gathered at the top of the hill near the castle, but several people were making their way up and down the main road into the city or standing in clusters further down the hill to watch the proceedings without getting too close.
Their voices were louder here, reaching Robin’s ears in a steady hum occasionally punctuated by a sharp cry.
Robin scanned the villagers who moved up and down the road. It was too far away to see individual people, but it was easy to see that Sol and his group of Majis had not arrived yet.
Robin glanced down the walkway again. Zimri still stood by the tower door. “Can we go around?” Robin asked, leaning closer to Ian and keeping her voice low. “Down and back up the other side?”
Ian shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tense under the base of the helmet that hid his face. “There is no door on the other side. The only other way is the ladder inside the tower, but it is only used by those who are manning the gate.”
Robin looked down into the busy courtyard below.
“We might be able to get away with it since so much is going on,” Ian said. “But it would be more risky.”
“Movement from the city!” a soldier shouted to Robin’s right.
She turned back to look over the grassy hill.
Sol stood at the head of an organized column of Majis. They walked up the hill slowly and deliberately, carrying a variety of mismatched wooden shields and weapons that Jette and Ulli had sourced for them.
“Who is that?” the archer standing next to Robin asked.
Soldiers rushed forward, trying to get a look at the newcomers.
“Archers,” Zimri called, his voice surprisingly loud over the growing noise. “Hold your position! Do not engage until I give the order!”
Robin stepped away from the cutout in the wall, letting the pressing soldiers around her get a view. Instead, she watched Zimri. He moved back through the tower toward the wall above the center of the gate.
The wall was packed with soldiers, and his attention would be diverted. Now was their time to pass him. Robin looked at Ian. He was clearly thinking the same thing.
Robin stepped forward first, moving through the crowded soldiers with the same purposeful stride she had learned from Ian. She leaned heavily to her left, bumping into men as she walked but wanting to avoid the long fall to the courtyard on her right.
Ian fell into step behind her, taking advantage of the crowd to press his body into hers, keeping them together.
Robin kept her focus on the left tower door ahead. Zimri had walked through it and left it open behind him. His stocky frame was now several paces beyond it, moving toward the center of the gate wall where he would have the best vantage to address the newcomers below.
Pushing past several more soldiers, Robin reached the door leading into the small tower. She ducked through it without slowing.
The left tower was small and dim—barely large enough for four men to stand in.
Arrow slits lined the outer wall, letting in thin blades of light.
A wooden door on the far side opened onto the continuation of the walkway above the gate itself.
Through that door, Robin could see the backs of several soldiers lined along the battlement and, beyond them, the bright green of the hill.
She could also see Zimri.
He stood at the center of the wall, leaning over the battlement with both hands gripping the stone. His attention was entirely on Sol and the Majis below.
About ten paces beyond Zimri, the door to the right tower was closed.
Robin pressed herself against the inner wall of the left tower, pulling Ian in beside her. The tower was dark enough that they would be difficult to see from the bright walkway outside.
“How many men in the gatehouse?” Robin asked.
“It should be just the two that are needed to operate it,” Ian replied.
Robin nodded. Through the open door, she watched Zimri lean further over the battlement. He said nothing, so Robin assumed he was waiting for Sol to speak first.
“Open the gate,” Sol’s voice finally sounded from below.
“The gates do not open for a traitor to the kingdom,” Zimri replied. Gareth must have told him what Sol and Meena had done in Falqri. “Archers, to the ready!” Zimri shouted, his voice carrying along the wall.
Robin did not have to look to Ian to know that he would follow her the second she moved. Zimri, and every man around him, was focused on the grass below.
Robin slipped out of the tower door, squinting in the sudden sunlight, and onto the walkway above the gate.
“Leave now,” Zimri yelled down at Sol, “or I shall fire.”
Robin’s heart pounded. She walked confidently across the battlement, in full view of the soldiers below, hoping that her confident stride and the commotion outside would hide her in plain sight.
“I am here to speak with Frederich, King of Iseldis,” Sol said. “Open the gate!”
“Open the gate!” That was Mistress Cedrice. Her chant was echoed by the crowd.
Robin reached the gatehouse door. She reached down, twisted the iron handle, and pushed.
“Fire!” Zimri ordered.
Robin flinched as bowstrings twanged behind her. She could hear arrows thudding into the wooden shields below, but no one screamed. That was good.
“Stand back, witless woman!” Zimri yelled. Robin smiled as she stepped into the gatehouse. It sounded like Mistress Cedrice was making herself quite the nuisance.
Two men stood inside, peering through the arrow slits in the wall at the commotion below. One of them turned as the open door flooded the room with light.
But Robin was on top of him before he had a chance to react. She wrapped her good arm around his neck, under his helmet. He struggled against her for a few moments and then went limp in her arms, unconscious.
Ian, after following her into the room and closing the door behind him, did the same to the other guard.
The gatehouse was short and narrow. The air smelled of iron and old grease.
At the center, a massive wooden contraption was bolted to the floor—a stripped tree trunk lying horizontal, with heavy iron chains hanging from hooks in the ceiling and wrapping around it.
Counterweights dangled from the chains on either side.
On each end of the trunk, two large cog wheels were attached to facilitate turning.
“Help me with this.” Ian was dragging the body of one of the unconscious men to the foot of the closed door. Robin grabbed the man’s other arm and helped drop him into place. The makeshift lock would only buy them a couple of seconds, but hopefully it would be all they needed.
Ian was already at the far wheel. “The moment someone comes in that door, we take the ladder down to the courtyard.” He pointed toward an open hatch in the floor.
Robin nodded. She ran to the opposite cog and wrapped her good arm around the upper spoke, bracing her feet against the stone floor.
“Ready?” Ian asked.
“Yes.”
They pushed.
The chains creaked as they drew taut against the counterweights, and the wheel resisted. Robin threw her weight forward, her boots scraping against the stone. The cog did not move.
She gritted her teeth and pushed harder. Beside her, Ian grunted with effort, his arms shaking as he strained against the wheel.
For several long, horrible seconds, nothing happened.
Then, with an ear-splitting screech, the mechanism began to turn. The chains wound slowly around the trunk, link by link, and the deep, shuddering moan of metal hinges echoed from below as the massive wooden gates began to pull apart.
Robin could hear the immediate reaction from outside—shouts of confusion and alarm from the walkway, followed by Zimri’s voice cutting through everything else.
“The gate!” he bellowed. “I did not give the order. Close the gate!”
Robin kept pushing. The cog continued to turn. Robin let out a cry through her clenched teeth, pouring her remaining strength into the push. The chain links clicked past, one after another, and below her she could hear the heavy groan of the gate swinging open.
The door behind her opened, slamming into the unconscious soldier on the ground. “What?!” shouted a confused voice. “General!”
“Now!” Ian yelled.
Robin dropped the wheel, running to the hatch as the soldiers behind the door shouldered it open.
Ian slammed a lever into place to prevent the cog wheel from unwinding in the other direction, then ran toward her.
Robin leapt off the ladder to give Ian room to get through the hatch.
She landed heavily on the ground below, rolling back to catch her fall. When she stood, she was standing in the half-opened gate of the castle, with Sol and his army at her back.