Dark Age Maiden

Carina. Carina!

Then, leaving her, he strode away to direct the defense of the city.

       After changing out of her wedding dress, Carina left the stronghold and went outside. She saw the town was illuminated by a great number of torches held high just above the walls. Why were they doing that? she wondered. She soon learned it was her father's idea to warn the enemy the town was prepared to fight—there would be no surprise attack.

        High in the towers, guards were keeping track of the Saracens as best they could in the darkness. Inside the walls of the city, knights, pikemen and women waited in readiness. People stood in small groups excitedly talking. Carina threaded her way around them looking for someone she knew. She finally came upon Antonia and her children, and nearby was Gertrude who was standing with Gina's family—her husband and their two children.

The night was balmy. Except for the reports from the towers, no one would have known the enemy was gathering outside the walls. As hours passed, the buzz of talk quieted, and more and more people sat down. Eventually most fell asleep in their places, laying next to one another for warmth.

       Nothing happened. The sun came up and those who were sleeping roused from their slumber. Instructions were given for people to eat in shifts so if an attack came there would be enough people to quell the initial onrush. Giancarlo found Carina among the mass of humanity beneath the walls and suggested she come into the fortress to sleep.

       Carina saw that he looked tired, and she realized he had probably had much less rest than she. "I'm alright," she told him.

        As the hours of morning passed, the guards stationed in the lookout towers continued to keep the knights informed about the enemy. The news wasn't good. More infantry were arriving from ships that could now be seen along the coast. Then came the sound of axes biting into wood. Everyone knew what that meant. They were building ladders for a siege and probably also making a battering ram.

        The defenders prepared for the attack. Oil, lard and various caustic concoctions simmered in large caldrons in the kitchen and over glowing embers near the walls. Pikemen took turns standing near the wall with their pikes straight up, ready to pierce any infidel who appeared at the top of a ladder. Knights stalked the ramparts with shields and drawn swords, prepared to kill anyone who got over the wall.

Archers positioned themselves in places offering a view and some defense where they awaited only a word to unleash their highly effective death barbs. Women too, were ready to fight. They didn't stray too far from the buckets standing near the wells ready to put out fires, or from the boiling pots whose contents would kill or severely burn those attempting to scale the walls.

       The leaders consulted. They included Giancarlo, Tiberio, Corrado, Renzo, Ruggiero, and Giancarlo's two sons. They were kept constantly informed of the number and the position of the enemy. Their first concern was to make sure there were no weak points in the defense and that shifts were scheduled for key positions. They had already decided not to consider any terms offered for surrender unless the growing army of Islam became so enormous there was no reasonable hope of resisting.

       Throughout the day the leaders watched as more and more troops assembled just outside of bowshot range among the scraggly trees and brush beneath the hill. It was evident the enemy had scouted the plateau on which the town was built for they were assembling beneath its least steep side.

     Giancarlo paced nervously as the troop buildup continued. He had had little sleep. From time to time, as conditions changed and he received reports, he issued orders to maximize readiness for the impending attack. It was not a full scale army he faced, but with over two thousand well armed men, it was a redoubtable force that would test the mettle of his small town.

What were they after? he wondered. Were these vile infidels seeking treasure or did they really seek souls for Allah? They were well equipped, he observed. Each carried a long curved sword and wore an iron helmet and a coat of mail. They were far better protected than his own knights.

He felt sure the metal tipped arrows of his archers could pierce the mail, but he had alerted his swordsmen that slicing blows might not cut through the links of mail, though thrusts would be effective. Standing on the rampart behind the wall he saw the sun already beginning to sink beneath the horizon. He knew if the enemy was going to attack on this day, it would be soon. He alerted the defenders to be ready.

Chapter Twenty 

        The first thing those in the towers saw were the fires. Immediately thereafter archers rushed forward, drawing their bows and sending flaming arrows into the city. The defending bowmen were able to pick off some of the enemy archers, but it was too late. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, the burning arrows landed everywhere, on buildings, carts and people. Screams of the wounded mingled with shouts and curses as the knights tried to keep the civilian defenders near the walls despite the danger. They knew what was likely to come next.

        Then, from the towers came loud yelling. The attackers were advancing up the hill. Arrows flew in both directions and those watching from the ramparts could see warriors falling as they rushed up the incline. All the bloodshed seemed to make little difference. Those who fell were replaced by more shrieking attackers. There were too many of them. Soon they would be at the walls.

        For the defenders, there was no doubt about the enemy's plans. Their clamorous shrieking as they attacked drowned out everything but shouted commands. The pikemen positioned themselves to run through those whose heads showed above the walls, and women with buckets of boiling oil and water with caustic additives waited at the ready along the ramparts. Nervously impatient, knights waited as well, with swords drawn and shields poised to fight. Bowmen readied their arrows.

        Carina was one of about thirty women who stood on the rampart next to steaming buckets. Twice Giancarlo had ordered her down, telling her she was putting herself at too much risk, and twice she had defied him. Antonia and Gertrude stood beneath her on the ground, ready to run to the cauldron to refill her containers.

The yelling of the enemy was now coming from directly beneath them and Carina heard the scraping of ladders being positioned on the wall. The first ladders that appeared above the parapet were quickly pushed over by men using long forked poles made for exactly that purpose.

        Carina stood on tiptoe to peer down and saw men climbing up a ladder a yard from where she stood. Taking one of the buckets she threw it over the top and was satisfied to hear the screams of the attackers. She stood up to check again before lifting up the second bucket.

Suddenly, a man appeared who grabbed her arm. She fought to free herself and to push him off the ladder. He held on, now gripping her with both hands, holding on to prevent his fall. She pushed him away with all her strength, sending him and his ladder flying backward, but he frantically grasped her arms, and unable to break away from his clutching fingers, she went down with him, tumbling to the ground.

        Antonia screamed, pointing to the wall where Carina no longer stood. In the tumult of battle, hers was just another cry.

Thank you all, for your reads, comments and votes.