The ladder-bearers reached the western wall. Druss knelt, wrapped his arms around a boulder as large as a bull's head and, with a grunt, heaved it to the battlements. A ladder thudded against the wall. Gripping the boulder between his hands, Druss hoisted it above his head and sent it sailing out over the wall. Seven men were on the ladder as the boulder struck the first, smashing his skull to shards. The huge rock hit the shoulder of the third man, snapping his collar-bone; he fell, dislodging three others. Rocks and stones rained down on the attackers, but they pushed on.
The first man reached the ramparts, his shield held above his head. Chisk ran forward, ramming his dagger through the man's eye, and with a choking cry he fell.
'One for Chisk!' shouted the Nadir. Two more men reached the ramparts. Druss leapt to his right, sending Snaga crashing through a wooden helm, and braining the second man with a reverse sweep. Nuang jumped forward, thrusting his dagger at the head of a climbing soldier. The blade gashed the man's forehead but he stabbed out with his own short sword, catching Nuang on the left wrist and scoring the flesh. Snaga crashed down on the man's shoulder, splitting his breastplate. Blood gushed from the wound and the climber fell away.
To Druss's left four Gothir soldiers had forced their way to the ramparts, forming a fighting wedge that allowed more men to reach the walls unopposed. Druss charged the group, Snaga sweeping down in a murderous arc. One man was cut down instantly; Druss shoulder-charged a second, spinning him from the ramparts to fall head first to the compound below; a third went down to a terrible blow which caved in his ribs. The fourth thrust his sword at Druss's belly. Nuang's blade hacked down, parrying the thrust, then swept up to slash through the soldier's neck. Dropping his sword, the Gothir soldier staggered back with blood pumping from his severed jugular.
Dropping his axe, Druss grabbed the dying man by throat and groin and heaved him high into the air. Spinning, he hurled the body at two more soldiers as they cleared the ramparts; both were thrown back from the walls. Nuang ran forward to plunge his sword into the open mouth of a bearded soldier who had just reached the top of the ladder. The blade smashed through the man's palate, emerging from the back of his neck. The sword was torn from Nuang's grasp as the man plum-meted to the ground.
Druss swept up a short sword lying on the ram-parts and tossed it to the old man. Nuang caught it expertly.
All along the western wall the Nadir struggled to block wave after wave of attackers.
Below, Talisman stood with Lin-tse and twenty warriors, trying to judge the best moment to launch fresh troops into the fray. Beside him Lin-tse waited with sword drawn. The defence was briefly breached: five soldiers hacking and cleaving a path to the steps. Lin-tse started forward, but Talisman called him back. Druss had attacked the men, cutting three down in as many heartbeats.
'He is terrifying,' said Lin-tse. 'Never have I seen the like.'
Talisman did not reply. The Lone Wolves were fighting like demons, inspired by the ferocious skills of the black-garbed axeman. On the other walls Nadir warriors watched in awed admiration.
'They are coming for the gates!' shouted Gorkai. 'They have fire buckets and axes.'
Talisman lifted his arm to show that he had heard, but made no move. More than a dozen of the defenders on the western wall were wounded. Five fought on, several others struggled down the steps, making their way to the hospital.
'Now!' he told Lin-tse.
The tall Sky Rider leapt forward, sprinting up the steps.
Axes thudded into the gate and Talisman saw Gorkai and the men of the Fleet Ponies hurling rocks over the battlements. Smoke seeped through the ancient wood. But, as Druss had suggested, they had soaked the gates every day and the fires quickly died away.
Talisman signalled to Gorkai to send back ten men to stand with him.
The battle raged on. Druss, covered in blood, stormed along the ramparts, leaping down to the fighting platform and scattering the Gothir warriors who had forced a way over the battlements. Talisman committed his ten men to help, then drew his sword and followed them in. He knew Druss was right about the crushing blow there would be to morale if he died. Equally, his men had to see him fight.
Climbing to the platform, he swept his sabre through the throat of a charging Gothir soldier. Two more ran at him. Druss smashed his axe through the shoulder of the first; then the old man, Nuang Xuan, gutted the second.
The Gothir fell back, taking their ladders with them.
A great cry went up from the Nadir. They jeered and waved their swords over their heads.
Talisman called Lin-tse to him. 'Get a count of the injured, and have the more seriously wounded men carried to the hospital.'
The Lone Wolves gathered around Druss, clapping him on the back and complimenting him. In their excitement they were speaking Nadir, and Druss understood not a word of it. He turned to the stocky Chisk. 'Well, laddie,' he said. 'How many did you kill?'
'I don't know. But it was many.'
'Did you beat this old man, do you think?' asked Druss, throwing his arm around Nuang's shoulder.
'I don't care,' shouted Chisk happily. 'I kiss his cheek!' Dropping his sword, he took the surprised Nuang by the shoulders and hugged him. 'We showed them how Nadir fight, eh? We whipped the gajin dogs.'
Nuang grinned, took a step, then fell to the ground with a surprised look on his face. Chisk knelt down beside him, dragging open the old man's jerkin. Three wounds had pierced Nuang's flesh and blood was flowing freely.
'Hold fast, brother,' said Chisk. 'The wounds are not bad. We get you to the surgeon, though, hey?' Two Lone Wolves helped Chisk to carry Nuang across to the hospital.
Druss strode from the wall to the well, drawing up a bucket of clear, cool water. Pulling an old cloth from his belt, he sponged the blood from his face and jerkin, then emptied the bucket over his head.
From the battlements came the sound of laughter. 'You could do with a bath too, you whoresons!' he shouted. Dropping the bucket back into the well, he drew it forth again, then drank deeply. Talisman joined him. 'We killed or wounded seventy,' said the Nadir leader. 'For the loss of nine dead and fifteen wounded. What next, do you think?'
'The same again, but with fresh troops,' said Druss. 'And before dark too. My guess is there will be at least two more attacks today.'
'I agree with you. And we will hold — I know that now.'
Druss chuckled. 'They're a fine bunch of fighters. Tomorrow it will be the gates — a concerted attack.'
'Why not tonight?'
'They haven't learned their lesson yet,' said Druss.
Talisman smiled. 'You are a good teacher, axeman. I am sure they will learn before the day is over.'
Druss took another long drink, then pointed to a group of men working at the base of the old tower. They were separating blocks of granite and hauling them clear of the rubble. 'What is the purpose of that?' asked the axeman.
'The gates will fall,' said Talisman, 'but we will have a surprise for the first troops to get through!'
Nuang Xuan lay quietly on the floor with his head on a pillow stuffed with straw, a single blanket covering him. The stitches in his chest and shoulder were tight, his wounds painful, yet he felt at peace. He had stood beside the axeman, and had killed five of the enemy. Five! Across the room a man cried out. Nuang carefully rolled to his side, seeing that the surgeon was stitching wounds in a man's belly; the wounded warrior thrashed out and Niobe grabbed his arms. Waste of time, thought Nuang, and within moments the injured man gave a gurgling cry and was still. The surgeon swore. Niobe dragged the corpse from the table, and two men carried a freshly wounded man to take his place.