A Crown Imperiled by Raymond E. Feist Page A

the scene below was quickly growing clearer. ‘Not if they have to withstand . . . The old fortress!’
    ‘What about it?’ asked Brendan. Sergeant Ruther had inspected it the day before on Martin’s order, and had reported back that it was run down, but the walls were still stout; with a little work it could easily be made defensible.
    ‘Sergeant Ruther!’ Martin bellowed.
    ‘Sir!’ As ever, the answer came at once from below.
    ‘Open the sally port and get a detachment of cavalry down to the old fortress! Round up a company of foot soldiers and send them on afterwards. At first light I want carpenters and stonemasons down there starting repairs!’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘I thought we weren’t going to utilize that fort,’ said his brother.
    ‘We wouldn’t if we were only facing an assault from one quarter.’ He paused and let out a slow tired breath. ‘We have to deny them any possible foothold on the eastern shore.’
    ‘Do you think they mean to seize it?’ asked Brendan.
    ‘It’s what I would do if I was going to attempt a landing,’ said Martin. ‘If they get a foothold on that side of the harbour mouth, install some catapults or trebuchets into that fortress, they can deny any reinforcements a safe landing, and when they’re ready to attack they can hit us from two sides at once. We would not only have to defend this gate, but the eastern gate as well, and that would spread our archers too thinly. We don’t have enough men to deal with an assault from two sides.
    ‘And if we were forced to sally against an eastern assault, we’d have to ride out of the north gate and circle through miles of pasture lands and hedgerows, with no clear line of attack until we reach that beach—’
    ‘Where their arches would cut us to pieces,’ finished Brendan.
    Martin considered the possibilities for a moment, then shouted, ‘Sergeant Ruther!’
    The old soldier reappeared at Martin’s side. ‘Sir?’
    ‘Where do we now stand with archers? How many do we have?’
    ‘Those who can fire a bow, sir, or those who can actually hit a target?’
    Martin hesitated, then said, ‘Fire a bow.’
    ‘A hundred and fifty, give or take a few,’ answered Ruther.
    ‘Take thirty of our best and that flying company, and occupy the old fortress to oversee the refitting personally. Build a fire under the carpenters and masons if you must, but I want it defensible by yesterday.’ Suddenly a thought came to him. ‘And take that miniature ballista with you.’ He pointed to where the portal ballista rested in the wagon that had carried it down from LaMut. ‘Aim it where you think you can do the most damage to the Keshians if they try to seize that emplacement. I have a feeling,’ he added in lower tones, ‘that they’re going to try to ferry men across and hit us from the east as they assault this gate.’
    ‘Sir!’ said Ruther. ‘May I suggest that we might do well with some oil, sir?’
    ‘Take what you need, but if you use it, try not to burn the place . . .’ Martin stopped. For a long moment he was silent. Then he said, ‘No. Take as much oil as you need, and if it comes to it, burn that fortification to the ground. If we lose it, we’ll deny the Keshians its use.’
    Martin glanced at his brother and the sergeant, and then turned his gaze back to the harbour and sea beyond. ‘Kesh won’t try to land troops in small boats if they can’t gain a foothold. If we place archers in the trees on the hills above the harbour, there’s no safe place for them to muster for an assault. More than half would be dead before they got to the road.’ He nodded.
    ‘Well done, sir,’ said Ruther with obvious approval. He turned and ran off.
    As flames leapt skyward and the entire foulborough became consumed, Brendan said, ‘What do we do next?’
    Martin glanced west, then towards the fire, and then eastward, as if trying to see something in the distance that might be approaching from any side of the city. Finally he