Dragonhammer: Volume I by Conner McCall Page B

ladder falls, crushing all those on and below.  A second follows suit, then a third.  I cannot see what is happening on the other side of the Keep. 
    There are enough of us, and few enough of them, that we are able to hold them off fairly well.
    This is too easy , I think.  Why?
    “How’s the other side faring?” I ask a nearby soldier.  “This can’t be everything they’ve got.”
    “I don’t know,” he says.
    A grappling hook suddenly bangs into the barracks wall, slides down across the ground, and locks into the crenellations only a few feet from one of the ladders.  The Tygnar soldiers guard it with their lives, and the fallen ladder begins to rise.
    “Destroy the rope!” Father yells.  “Don’t let them get it up!”
    The enemy soldiers gain confidence at the sight of a rising ladder, and something becomes clear:  our farmers with swords simply cannot stand up to their trained army.
    I swing my hammer in a wide arc, much like one of the trolls, throwing more than a couple of men to the side.  An arrow pierces the armor of one and he falls to the ground, limp.  I must reach the ladder before it hits the wall.
    “Fight!” I shout.  “They must not take the Keep!”
    A spear thrown from an ally sticks into a soldier jumping from the ladder.  He falls, knocking a couple of other warriors off and down with him.
    “Where are the trolls?” I wonder aloud.
    “Probably still trying to get in the front gate,” Percival replies.  “There are few of them.”
    I use the spike of my hammer to snag an enemy and throw him into another.  Sweat drips from my brow and my tongue is starting to dry.  The ladder is approaching quickly, but our men are beginning to fail underneath the blows of the enemy.
    Still I fight my way towards it.  I am too late, and the ladder makes contact.  More soldiers pour onto the wall.  I feel something pumping inside me.  It’s more than adrenaline; it’s something powerful, driving me forward, empowering me to destroy my enemies.
    “We have to cut them off here,” I say.  “Somehow.”
    “How do you plan to do that?”
    “No idea.”
    A couple of arrows stick out of Percival’s shield.  It’s marred and obviously well-used.  His sword shines in the torchlight.
    “Actually,” I say, “I have an idea, but I need a troll.”
    “There are none up here,” he says without questioning my need for one.  “Besides, you’d probably want to kill it afterwards, and that’s not easy!”
    “We can’t stand here and fight forever,” I say simply.  “For every man we cut down there is another to take his place.”  Another soldier proves my words true as I knock him from the wall and down to the streets below.  “We are being overwhelmed!”
    Despite the men’s best efforts, the Tygnar army is simply better trained and has more numbers.
    “Into the Keep!” I yell, crushing the helm of another foe.  The barracks on the wall is not connected with doors or tunnels into the Keep, so the only way in from here will be through the tower.
    My group, as well as any survivors, follow my commands and dive for the tower entrance.  I shut and bolt it, and then place the wooden bar in the way.  Men on the other side bang frantically to get in.
    “We need to seal this door,” I say.
    A cry comes from down below.  “It appears we are too late,” says Father.
    We bar the door quickly, using whatever furniture we can find.  Then we run down the stairs and onto the balcony that hangs over the main entrance hall.  A BANG echoes throughout the Keep as the gate buckles inward slightly, and then recoils.  The crowds of men that brace the gate bounce with it.
    “How did they get past the portcullis?” Nathaniel wonders aloud.
    “No idea.”
    We run down to the lower levels as quickly as we can, until we are behind the gate.  Something hammers on it from the outside.
    “Orders?” asks a soldier; a captain I’m assuming, by the purple cape.  “Orders?”
    Jarl