Rovie tried to ignore the stench of blood that permeated the air as he helped wheel a cannon down the marble-floored corridor. The opulence that surrounded him provided a welcome distraction. He gaped at the high, vaulted ceilings from which hung fine silver chandeliers, an antique suit of armour with gold trimming stood in an alcove, and finely detailed chairs inlaid with gold leaf stood facing a large window that offered a view of the now darkened garden. He felt that there was more wealth in this one corridor than in all of Gofeldin.

He saw movement in the corner of his eye. It was Logran’s men moving the bodies into the bowels of the mansion. Killing the guards was one thing, but they had also murdered the servants, who were common people like themselves, and the nobles, which was something Gavik had never done. To make matters worse, the only nobles left in the mansion were women and children. Logran had said that they couldn’t risk the alarm being raised. The deed was done long before Rovie had arrived with his cannon crews, who had crossed the river at Nordl two days ago.

“I don’t like this,” a mousy man named Lofton whispered from the other side of the cannon Rovie was pushing, “there’s been so much killing already, and they’re going about their day like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”

“A lot of these Loz folk have this strange look in their eyes,” Vicram agreed. He was a middle-aged man who was a stonemason by trade and his eyes darted around nervously, “I don’t know how you can trust them.”

“We haven’t a choice,” Rovie said, “just keep your heads down, and let’s focus on getting set up in the garden.”

Rovie cast a worried look at the line of cannons behind them. He didn’t like putting all their eggs in one basket like this, or the riskiness of Logran’s plan. He had come up with it at the last minute, and Tonsivar and Loric had both voted for it, leaving him as the sole dissident. Logran had also led the quiet assault up the fortified hill leaving a trail of blood behind them. It was more lightly defended than Tonsivar had initially feared, but that was due to the baron’s men being occupied elsewhere.

Soon, they emerged into the fresh night air of the mansion’s gardens. The mansion was on the highest level of the hill in Conlow and its grounds ran all the way up to the wall of the baron’s castle. A considerable security risk in Rovie’s mind. It was tempered partially by the fact that the mansion was also defended by a formidable wall. However, the master of the mansion and most of the fighting men who would ordinarily be defending the walls were conveniently away. It was a glaring oversight that had not escaped Logran’s attention.

“I wonder if they’ve reached the river yet,” Rovie wondered out loud.

“Gavik and his boys should have reached the banks this morning,” Vicram remarked.

“I meant the lord of this mansion and his men,” Rovie said, “from my understanding, the timing is critical. Gavik and our boys are in for a tough time if the baron’s men make the crossing before they get there.”

“The panic in the city when they learned our boys appeared out of nowhere on their eastern border was quite something, wasn’t it,” Lofton chuckled.

“Hair raising more like,” Vicram said with raised eyebrows, “I thought the baron’s men were going to start beheading people in the streets when they first heard the news.”

“I’m worried about them,” Rovie said, “and I hate that I’m not there.”

Rovie hated Gavik’s plan too. Gavik and three hundred Boverlind rebels had appeared on the baron’s eastern border out of the elven forest. The number was carefully considered; not so many that it would cause the baron to withdraw all his forces into his castle and lock the doors tight. They had no hope of taking the castle if it was fully manned, so they sent just enough men that the baron would feel confident enough to send a force out to crush Gavik’s threat to his power once and for all.

However, a force that small, even augmented by unarmed peasant rebels who had been stoked up by Tonsivar and Logran joining them along the way, would not be able to stand up to the men the baron sent for long. The best they could hope for was to defend a river crossing until Logran and Tonsivar took the castle and came to their aid. The loss of morale from losing the castle, and from being attacked from two directions would hopefully be enough to win the day. That was a lot of moving parts to Rovie’s mind, and terrible odds, but it was the most viable plan they could come up with.

A long siege of the castle didn’t suit them either. The baron was too well connected and too powerful for the other nobles to stand idly by while his home was surrounded by peasants. It was all too likely that the other nobles would come to the baron’s aid if a siege were to occur. This battle had to be finished quickly and decisively so they could focus on defending Stroving Pass to the north.

“We all wish we were there,” Vicram said. He looked around before lowering his voice, “I think all of us Gofeldin boys would rather be there than here.”

Lofton nodded in agreement. Rovie saw the large frame of Loric standing next to Logran who was observing the wall from the cover of the mansion, “well, not all of us.”

“Loric has been different since he came here,” Vicram remarked, “what happened?”

“Plenty,” Rovie said, as he mopped the sweat from his brow, “that’s enough standing around, we need to get the rest of the things.”

“How’s the hole coming along?” Rovie asked as Tonsivar approached them.

“It’s coming along,” he replied irritably as he rubbed his eyepatch.

“Dawn’s not far away,” Rovie warned as he looked at the three lean-tos they had built against the wall. Turf torn up from the parts of the garden that were out of sight of the wall covered the roofs to provide some rudimentary camouflage from above. He thought they stood out, but none of the patrols on the wall had spotted them yet. Under the cover of the lean-tos, teams of men from Boverlind who had been trained by Nemil were working to dig holes in the wall. Rovie hoped that Nemil’s new, more refined techniques worked better than the last time.

Tonsivar scowled as he leaned on his musket. “It can’t be helped. Have you ever tried digging a hole through a solid stone wall quietly?”

Rovie shrugged and looked at the wall worriedly. A warning call went up as the tip of a sentry’s musket bobbed across the top of the wall. Work stopped and every man in the garden held his breath until the sentry continued down the wall, away from them.

“Back to work boys,” he said at length, “we have a lot to do before dawn.”

Rovie and his men worked hard to bring their cannons and powder and shot into position and soon, everything was ready. He watched Logran walk out of one of the lean-tos as the sky was beginning to brighten and moved over to intercept him.

“Are they ready?” Rovie asked as he rubbed his weary face.

Everyone knew they had long since passed the point of no return, and failure would mean the rebellion in Loz and Boverlind would be wiped out. The stress and anticipation had frayed Rovie’s nerves, and he was eager to get started. The odds were already stacked against them, and they had already missed the optimum time to strike, by his reckoning.

“They will have to be soon,” Logran remarked gruffly as he looked at the sky. He waited for the guard to walk past their section of the wall and nodded at the men who were standing close to three large barrels hidden behind a small garden shed.

The men quickly sprang into action, also eager to begin attack. They rolled the barrels towards the lean-tos over planks that were placed over the turf.

“Alert the men,” Rovie said, as he returned to his men inside the mansion, “we’re about to begin.”

The other commanders who were watching from the windows saw the barrels moving and quickly got their men moving. Soon, muskets were loaded, and men crowded the doors, ready for the order to move. Atri and his men moved to the rear. They would be among the last through the wall.

“Steady lads,” Logran warned as he walked among the men, “I’ve given them another ten minutes, don’t give the game up early.”

The next ten minutes were the longest of Rovie’s life as the light continued to grow. His anxiety rose with the growing light, and he feared they had waited too long. Then came the shrill blow of Logran’s whistle.

“Steady men,” he warned a minute later, as a handful of men stumbled in their haste to spring out into the garden, “it’s not yet time.”

Men scurried out of the lean-tos and the men in the mansion stood aside to let them in Rovie waited with bated breath, watching from the windows as men on the wall began to converge above the lean-tos. Luring the guards in was a double-edged sword. Logran was clearly a gambling man, and most of his gambles had paid off so far. Rovie hoped his luck would hold for just a little longer.

Soon, a dozen guards were gathered over the lean-tos. Some looked at the lean-tos, wondering what they were, while others scrutinized the garden. They were taken off-guard by the three ground shaking explosion that ripped parts of the wall apart, sending most of them flying into the air.

“Move!” Logran roared.

The men sprang out of the mansion. Logran’s men beelined for where two of the lean-tos had stood with Loric in the lead while Tonsivar directed his men towards the third. As the smoke cleared, they saw that one of the holes hadn’t blown all the way through the wall while another was only wide enough for a small man to squeeze through. The hole Loric was heading towards was the only one wide enough for the planned two men to get through at a time and Rovie’s pulse quickened once his friend disappeared through it.

Shouts and gunfire filled the air. The sound of a bell rang out from the keep which signalled that they were under attack. It came quicker than they’d hoped, but there was still the chance that the garrison would be slow to react. Rovie gritted his teeth with frustration. Their turn to act wouldn’t come for a while yet. He looked up at the small hole that a man was struggling to force himself through. He shuddered as he was struck by musket fire and went limp, still stuck in the wall.

“That hole’s a death trap,” Rovie breathed, sure that the attack would fail if they only had one usable passage through the wall.

“Cannoneers, we need to move!” Rovie cried as he pushed his way through the knot of men who were crowded around the doorway. He gave up a moment later and looked around frantically before hurling an antique chair through one of the windows.

“Follow me!” Rovie shouted as he jumped through the window. He sensed Vicram and Lofton were hot on his heels. He rushed over to one of the cannons and waited impatiently until six men had gathered around it.

“Push!” he ordered and together, they rolled the cannon towards the smaller of the two holes. The cannon was already loaded with shot and powder. Rovie looked over his shoulder and was relieved to see that the other team was pushing the two-wheeled limber that was carrying gunpowder and shot right behind them.

“Clear the hole!” Rovie cried as Tonsivar’s men struggled to pull the dead man free. They turned to see the cannon being lined up and moved out of the way.

“This is loaded with canister shot!” one of his men reminded him

“I know that!” Rovie replied. He turned to the limber team, “Frip, I want ten charges around the edges of that hole!”

The man in charge of the limber barked orders and five men rushed forward and carefully packed the charges around the dead body and braced them with whatever scraps of wood they could find. They had only entered Loz with ten charges per gun, but they had looted plenty more from the arsenal at Corith.

“Aren’t we a little too close?” Lofton asked worriedly.

Another ripple of gunfire filled the air, followed by more individual shots. Then came the answering shots from closer to the wall. Rovie knew that meant that Loric and his men were being outgunned. Men were pouring through the one opening in the wall as quickly as they could, but Rovie could tell that precious few had been able to make it through. Tonsivar cut a frustrated figure as his men were clustered far from the gap, waiting for their turn to get through.

“We have to be,” Rovie replied, “we need to get these guns through quickly soon as we can. Light the fuse!”

In the corner of his eye, he saw three more of his guns positioned right behind him. They too were already loaded and ready to fire. The other cannons were probably still on the edge of the garden covered with canvas. They would have to press on without them, four cannons would be more useful than none.

Everyone seemed to stop for a moment as another explosion rocked the wall. “Forward!” Rovie shouted without waiting for the smoke to clear.

On his order, his men wheeled the cannons forward. To Rovie’s relief, the hole was now large enough for a cannon to pass through. Four cannons quickly crossed over to the other side of the wall. Rovie assessed the situation quickly and advanced his cannon twenty yards from the hole. He saw Loric amongst the small knot of men around their gap in the wall firing outwards with little coordination. Many of their number had fallen and were being used as cover by the others. Across a small courtyard was a growing group of Lest’s men who were firing upon the intruders from all angles.

“Over there!” Rovie, said, pointing at a large knot of men.

“Firing!” he shouted once the cannon was pointed in their general direction. His men turned away and covered their ears as he yanked the firing cord. The cannon roared, and five Lest men fell dead or dying.

“Pick out targets and fire at will!” he ordered his other gun crews.

“We only have one limber across,” Lofton warned, “we won’t be able to keep our guns supplied for long.”

Rovie nodded as his men began the reloading process. Musket fire rang out and a few of his men fell dead while a shot whizzed inches past Rovie’s head. Answering fire came from their side as musketeers appeared through the new hole and formed a perimeter around the canons. Rovie took a moment to look up and saw Tonsivar leading more of his men through the breach.

“Well done boy,” he shouted gleefully as he fired his musket.

Rovie wanted to object to their lack of discipline but decided that focusing on reloading the cannon was more important. Tonsivar’s men formed a protective screen around the cannons and all too slowly in Rovie’s eyes, the reloading process was complete. After a cursory, he was satisfied everything was in order.

“Focus on the door!” Rovie shouted as he aimed his cannon at the large double doors that lead into the keep.

“We’re already heavily outnumbered, and out in the open here!” Tonsivar warned.

All around him, rebels were dying, but Rovie felt that cutting their reinforcements off was more important than dealing with the Lest soldiers who were already fighting in the courtyard.

“Firing!” Rovie warned.

He waited for a second before yanking on the firing cord. The cannon roared, and a pair of soldiers who had been rushing out of the doors were cut down.

“Load a standard shot!” Rovie ordered.

“That’s all we have left, anyway,” Lofton shouted back.

“Where’s Vicram?” Rovie demanded.

Rovie followed Lofton’s gaze to a body lying near their cannon. It was Vicram, and he had a gaping wound in his chest. Not having the time to mourn, Rovie ran up to a nearby musketeer who was busy reloading his weapon.

“You,” he panted, grabbing the man by the shoulder, “bring us one powder charge from the limber.”

The musketeer paused and looked over at Tonsivar, who was busy reloading his weapon.

“Look here,” Rovie snapped, as he grabbed the man’s shirt, “we need these cannons to keep firing if we’re to stand a chance. Do as I say!”

The man swallowed and complied. All of Tonsivar’s men had been trained in the reloading process of the cannon, but clearly, they hadn’t taken it seriously. This man would be a weak link, but it was better than nothing.

“Where are the other cannons?” Rovie demanded.

“They’re being held up by infantry trying to get through the wall!” someone replied.

Rovie paused as a red rocket flare shot up from the roof of the keep. It shrieked as it soared high into the air before exploding.

“What does that mean?” Lofton cried.

“Who knows?” Rovie replied as he ran over to Tonsivar. He waited for the rebel leader to fire a left-handed shot that went wild before grabbing him by the shoulder.

“I need your men to clear a path for my cannons!” he said, having to shout into his ear to be heard.

Tonsivar looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “We’re getting slaughtered here!” Rovie shouted, “we need more cannons and ammunition now!”

“I’m busy!” he replied and went back to reloading his weapon.

“I’ll do it.”

Rovie turned and was surprised to see Loric standing behind him. “This isn’t working,” he continued, “we need your boys here.”

Before Rovie could reply, Loric strode over to the hole in the wall and began roughly shoving his way through. Relieved to have his friend close at hand, Rovie returned to his gun and continued directing fire into the keep’s main doors while he had his other cannons concentrate fire on the other ways out of the keep that he noticed Lest troops appearing from.

Soon, four more cannons entered the courtyard. However, fire on the rebel positions was growing more intense.

“I don’t think suppressing those doors is working!” Lofton shouted. He jumped as a shot landed near him. All around him were the dead or wounded members of Rovie’s cannon crew. Half of the men working to reload the cannon were now Tonsivar’s infantry who had been intimidated into helping by Loric.

“This is the last shot!” Lofton warned as he rammed it home, “ready!”

Rovie double-checked the aim and fired another shot. It disappeared into the keep, and he didn’t know if it had actually struck anyone. What he did know was that fresh Lest soldiers were no longer joining the fray.

“Rounds complete!” Lofton cried.

“Get the rest of the limbers through!” Rovie shouted.

He looked up and thought there were now more rebels fighting in the courtyard than Lest soldiers. Loric had split off to lead a group of men up the stairs and they were now firing down on the Lest soldiers from the top of the remains of the wall. Tonsivar saw what he was doing and sent more men to claim further stretches of the wall and attempt to flank the Lest soldiers.

“Shift fire to any clusters of men” Rovie ordered, as he aimed his cannon at a firing line of twelve Lest soldiers.

“What, exactly are we going to shoot with, boss?” Lofton demanded.

Rovie gritted his teeth. Now was the time his cannons could change the tide of the battle, but they had nothing to shoot. He had made it clear to Tonsivar and Logran that he needed all his limbers with the cannons, or they would be in exactly the predicament they found themselves in now and could have screamed in frustration at their lack of discipline. He then heard the men on the wall behind them shouting and turned around in time to see them scatter. An instant later, a massive explosion sounded out across the courtyard and when the smoke cleared, it revealed a third hole in the wall. His eyes lit up when he saw a limber appear in the hole. He ran over and helped the men push them in.

“Any more gunners?” he demanded, “we’ve lost more than half of ours.”

“Yes boss,” a burly man from Loverto replied, “I have twenty of my boys with me.”

“Send them through with the rest of the limbers,” Rovie ordered, realizing now that keeping the limbers hitched to the cannon would have solved a lot of their problems. He’d separated them to get the cannons through the wall quickly, but that decision was coming back to haunt them. It was a mistake borne out of inexperience, and one that he could ill afford to make, “don’t let any of the infantry bully you out of the way.”

“You got it,” the man said and smiled sheepishly.

“What is it, Badric?” Rovie asked.

“We had to blow one of the limbers up making that hole,” he replied as they pushed the limber over towards Rovie’s cannon, “I thought there wasn’t time to unload the gunpowder, so we just pushed it against the hole and blew it up, shot and all.”

Rovie nodded. It was a shame to lose the shot, but the important thing now was that their cannons were back in action. He had a long list of things he’d like to improve in their tactics if they survived this battle.

“Ready!” Lofton cried as he rammed the shot home.

“Ready volley!” Rovie shouted, deciding it was worth the risk of waiting for all the cannons to finish reloading. He sent runners to relay his orders. The rebel cannons were clustered together in their corner of the courtyard, which made them an appetising target for enemy cannons, but according to Logran, those were mostly fixed on the other end of the wall and would be difficult to move. Rovie prayed that they wouldn’t arrive for a while yet.

“All cannons report ready!” a runner breathed moments later.

Rovie raised a red flag high in the air. Although the cannons were close together, it was impossible to hear him from more than a meter away over the screaming and the sound of gunfire. He double-checked that all the firers were ready before lowering it.

As one, the cannons roared, and all gunfire around the courtyard ceased. For a few seconds, the only sounds were the screams of the wounded. The cannons had obliterated several Lest squads, and once the survivors regained their senses, went scrambling for cover. Even the rebels had stopped in their tracks in awe and terror of the cannon barrage, except for Loric and his men who took the opportunity to push deep into the enemy flank.

A shrill whistle sounded out over the courtyard and the Lest soldiers began withdrawing into the keep. In the corner of his eye, Rovie saw a messenger running down the stairs of the wall and recognized him as one of Tonsivar’s men. He ran over to listen in on his report.

“We’ve captured ten of their cannons,” the man reported.

“Can we get them down here and into the battle?” Rovie asked.

Tonsivar and the messenger raised an eyebrow at Rovie. “Can they?” Tonisvar asked at length.

“Getting them off the wall won’t be easy without a crane,” the messenger said at length, “maybe if we had a few hours we could…”

They all crouched as a volley of gunfire landed around them. “The windows!” someone shouted, “they’re firing from the windows!”

Rovie looked up and counted roughly twenty windows facing the courtyard. A plan began to form. “Form two or three squads of twelve men and have them watch the windows. If they see anyone, blow them apart.

Tonsivar nodded and repeated the orders to his men while Rovie assessed the courtyard. Things had largely calmed down and there was only sporadic musket fire from the keep’s windows. Most of the Lest soldiers had withdrawn to the courtyard while the few who remained threw their hands into the air. The rebels, however, were in no mood to take prisoners.

“Why did they withdraw?” Rovie wondered out loud as the rebels fanned out to secure the courtyard, “we had just forced a pitched battle, but our victory was by no means assured.”

“Perhaps it had something to do with that signal rocket,” Logran remarked as he walked over to them.

Rovie nodded and looked up at the wall. “I’m going up there to take a look.”

“What should we do with the cannons?” Lofton asked.

“Load them with whatever shot we have left and keep them wherever we have the most men,” Rovie replied after a moment’s thought, “don’t let your guard down. They could attack from any direction.”

Lofton nodded and ran off to relay their orders. Tonsivar and Logran accompanied Rovie up the stairs while stealing the occasional glance at the keep.

“Think he might have a bolthole out of there?” Tonsivar ventured.

“I’d put money on it,” Logran grunted.

“Taking the keep is what’s important,” Rovie warned, “not capturing the baron.”

He jumped as a volley of musket fire erupted from the courtyard. He looked over at the keep and saw blood dripping from one of the windows. They weren’t secure here either. There could be any number of secret passages from the keep to the courtyard from which the baron’s men could launch devastating sneak attacks. He then looked to the keep. The doors his cannons had fired upon were ruined but storming them would be costly. However, they might be left with little choice. Putting that thought out of his mind, he hurried to the top of the wall. He was anxious to know how Gavik’s group were fairing, and the locals had said the river was visible from the wall.

On top of the wall, he found a spectacular view of the city and the surrounding farmlands. A river sparkled in the distance. He looked for the battlefield to the east as he worked his way around the wall until he noticed Loric’s large silhouette staring out over a parapet.

“Be careful,” Loric warned as Rovie approached, “we’ve taken a few pot-shots from the keep up here.”

“Do you see them?” Rovie asked, unconcerned with his own safety.

Loric nodded and pointed into the distance. Rove spotted them quickly. Groups of men that looked like swarms of black ants at this distance stood on either bank of the river. It looked like both groups were content to stay on their side of the river, glaring at one another. He noticed that the group on the near bank looked smaller than the one on the far bank, which was strange. He was sure that the baron had sent a larger group than that to intercept Gavik and his men.

“Where are the rest of them?” he ventured.

Loric pointed at a group of shapes that were making their way back up the road towards the city. From how fast they were moving, Rovie guessed that they were mounted, and in a hurry to boot.

“They’ll be here in around forty minutes,” Loric observed.

“We’d better prepare the defences then,” Logran remarked. He gave the approaching horsemen another look before turning around to scrutinize the courtyard.

“That cockroach is going to go scurrying out at some point,” he grunted, “I can feel it.”

Tonsivar scratched his eyepatch and shook his head. “The defenders will collapse once their boss is gone.”

“Maybe not, if they saw what your men did to those who surrendered,” Rovie pointed out.

Tonsivar winced and turned to Logran, “your lads might have cost us there.”

Logran gave the shorter man a sideways look and smirked. “I saw your boys doing the same.”

Tonsivar drummed his three-fingered hand against his thigh and scowled. “Well, if he’s scarpered, there’s not much we can do about it now.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing they’ve sent men here,” Loric muttered.

“How do you figure that?” Logran asked.

“We hold the walls, and our friends in the bait group are safe,” Loric replied, “I can’t imagine cavalry being particularly useful against walls.”

“If they coordinate with the men still in the keep, we could find ourselves pincered all too easily,” Rovie warned.

Loric nodded thoughtfully. “I thought that was too basic a mistake for the baron to make.”

“I heard there are cannons up here?” Rovie ventured.

“There are,” Loric nodded, “but I’m afraid they’re unusable.”

Rovie raised an eyebrow and Loric led him over to the gate where two batteries of five cannons each were positioned. It appeared as though the Loz soldiers had attempted to move them down to the courtyard before giving up. He then saw the small spikes that had been driven into the touch holes of the cannons. He tried to pry one out with his hands, but it didn’t budge.

“Well, this is inconvenient,” he remarked.

Loric shrugged. “It seems they’re not completely incompetent.”

Rovie nodded. “If they had a little more discipline to organize proper firing lines, things could have turned out a lot differently.”

“We did catch them with their pants down,” Loric pointed out, “so to speak.”

“What’s our next move?” Tonsivar ventured.

Rovie watched as Logran let his view range over the city. His gaze eventually settled on the last church down in the centre of town. It was a modest building with a single spire down on the second level of the hill.

“Say,” he said at length, “didn’t you hear the rumour about there being a secret passage between the church and the castle?”

“Now that you mention it, yes,” Tonsivar remarked, “why?”

“You can’t possibly be considering taking a portion of our men to go hunt down a rumour!” Rovie objected.

“You’d be desecrating a church,” Tonsivar pointed out, wide-eyed having realized what Logran was suggesting, “there’s no way Father Verethir will let you in with weapons.”

“Look at it this way,” Logran said breezily, “I’ll just be taking a group of men to secure our rear. You said it yourself, cavalry won’t be any use at attacking a wall. You could hold them off with fifty men easily. As for the father, I’ll convince him to come around to our point of view.”

Logran was already walking away before either Tonsivar or Rovie could object.

“Are you coming Loric?” he called out without turning around, “I understand if you won’t, but I don’t know how much will be left of the baron if you wait for us to open the doors for you.”

“You can’t be considering it, can you?” Rovie protested as Loric pressed his lips together into a thin line.

Without replying, Loric stalked off after Logran. Desperate, Rovie looked up at Tonsivar. “You have to stop them!”

The bald man shrugged helplessly. “No one can stop Logran when he’s got that look in his eye. Not without spilling blood.”

Rovie cursed and knew he could spend no more time worrying about what they were about to do. They had come to attack but suddenly found themselves having to defend. The first thing would be to figure out what to do with the three large holes they’d made in the wall. Defending the mansion wall was out of the question, they simply didn’t have the men. The wounded had been moved in there for treatment. If the Lest reinforcements decided to come that way, they were all dead men, but that couldn’t be helped. They had better odds hiding there than out in the open on the courtyard.

“Lofton!” Rovie shouted as he spotted the mousy man standing by the cannons, “get a cannon on each of those holes in the wall and twelve men to protect them!”

“Are we coming under attack?” he asked, looking confused.

“Yes!” Rovie shouted back.

“Then why are those boys packing it in?” Lofton asked, gesturing towards Logran who was leading around forty men out of the holes, back into the mansion. Ten of them carried small kegs of gunpowder on their backs.

“No time to explain Rovie snapped irritably as he ran down the stairs, “get the cannons into position.”

“You lot,” he barked at another crew, “get four cannons on the main gate and the rest on the doors to the keep.”

“We only have twelve shots left between all our cannons,” Lofton protested.

Rovie stopped in his tracks and felt a cold sweat form on his back. “Does that include rounds already loaded?”

Lofton nodded.

Rovie grimaced. “We’ll have to use them sparingly then.”

He turned around and saw Tonsivar following behind him. “Aren’t you the little general,” he grinned, revealing a mouth of yellow, broken teeth.

“The baron probably has a plan to open the gates,” Rovie said, pounding his palm with his fist.

Tonsivar shook his head slowly. “If there’s another way to open it besides from the gatehouse, I’ve not heard of it.”

Rovie looked at the gateway. A drawbridge that spanned a small pit along the outside controlled the entrance to the courtyard.

“The gatehouse, station ten men there,” Rovie ordered, “have them on the alert for enemies emerging from hidden passages.”

“Yes sir,” Tonsivar laughed. He then leaned in close to Rovie so he could speak softly, “we’re also low on musket ammunition. We have about five shots left per person.”

“It can’t be helped,” Rovie said, “scavenge what you can from the Lest bodies.”

He tasted bile as he took stock of their situation. There were just under a hundred rebels in the courtyard fit to fight in addition to forty of his gunners who would act as infantry if the need arose. Rovie turned his attention back to the keep. He could feel eyes on him and didn’t like how exposed they were to them one bit. He wondered if they had been led into a trap and cursed his inexperience at war. He then made his way back up to the wall and watched the horsemen approach.