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“More arrows! More bandages!” Always more.

I was crafting shorter arrows out of the firewood, when I wasn’t furiously fixing enemy arrows pried out of walls, furniture, shields, or sometimes people.

It seemed to me that there were fewer than a hundred involved in the encirclement.

“Where are they being fed from?” I asked Kismet.

“Focus. What are we doing, right now?”

“Fixing arrows.”

“Which are the only things between that mass of idiots and our lives. Which has priority?”

.....

“Ending the siege by any means available.” I said.

She smacked me just before my eye.

“Fix arrows, Rhishi! Just fix arrows.”

“Baaahaahaa!” said a sheep. Ingrid had moved them inside the hall, partly to keep them from the besiegers (who had, in fact, burned the pigsty) and partly in case the siege lasted more than a day.

“You want some of this?” Kismet shrieked at it, raising her hand.

The sheep did not, and moved on to annoy others of the household.

“Kismet. The siege seems to be going well.”

She inhaled, then breathed out slowly. “How do you figure?”

“It’s mid-day already, yes?”

“Not even close. Why?”

“My point is, they haven’t charged the defenses. And those defenses are layered. Outside, doorway, inside. Although I wouldn’t be surprised if I had to build a wall after all of this is resolved.”

She blinked at me. “You really don’t see us losing?”

I blinked back. “If you can keep the common soldiers from swarming the defenders, the quality of the champions is the telling factor. I think we have more champions, and better as well.”

“I’ve seen you hold off multiple opponents with just a shield.” She admitted. “Could you hold the line?”

“Not alone.” I admitted, “But I think I could hold my spot of three, either inside or outside.”

Somebody’s son or maybe youngest brother burst into the doorway.

“Slave, you’re summoned with arms and armor to the side door. Ollog says something about opening it.”

“Tell me they’re not crazy.” Kismet said.

“It’s going to be difficult, but we can do it.”

“You’re not even healed!”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ll have others around me.”

As I got closer to the side door, I realized WHY they were preparing to exit; someone was ramming it with... something else.

When we opened the door, that something else turned out to be someone’s hat-post, or other pegged post, in much worse wear than our pine door.

I’d probably be fashioning new doors of oak after this, too.

There were four close, holding the post. There were perhaps a dozen others nearby. With roars, the huscarl burst forth amongst their lightly armored opponents.

I’d like to say it was one sided, but a pair of scissors found a gap in Knud’s armor, and another took a wound to the face from an axe.

“Fall back.” Ollog called. “Back inside!”

And with such order as we could, we fell back inside the hall, door closed and barred behind us.

“You two. See the healers. Everyone else, how many fell beneath your weapons?”

Their count was more people than had been there. My count of the total was eight down, two of those definitely dead, and three others that I had seen wounded.

“Good work.” Ollog said. “We just need to do that another six or seven times, and we’ll have broken this siege by ourselves.”

“And what about the cloak rack?” Vidi kicked their battering ram.

“Looks like firewood to me.” I said.

Nobody else said otherwise.

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“You! We need these herbs infused, ground, and mixed into bandages.”

“I thought we had plenty of bandages.” I said.

“Had.” She said, tossing me a garlic bud and a strip of woolen cloth.

“Isn’t wool a terrible choice for bandages?”

“Talk to Ingrid about it, then.”

Nope, I was happy that Ingrid didn’t know who I was.

Victor limped past me, arrow stuck into his shoulder, barely conscious huscarl on the other. “Be ready.” He told me, “Your turn at the barrier is coming soon.”

I had time to finish with the garlic, but not to mix it into the wool.

The sun appeared to be going downward; an arrow bounced off my shield.

“There!” Sigmund pointed. “Use that horn bow, it should be small enough for you.”

I took a glance, as my time along Narrow Valley’s wall had taught me. Then I swung around to the other side of the chair, just to be sure.

Four adult men, all of them better at the bow than I was, were pinned down by nine, but only three of those had proper archer’s stances. Thank you, Narces.

I loosed an arrow at one of the archers. Learn from my mistake.

For every arrow I got off, she got off three. They seemed to bend the very air as they passed. One struck the chair I was hiding behind, stopping mere fingers away from my eye.

“Hah! You have their attention, lad. Keep it up.” Someone encouraged me.

I took aim at one of the unskilled archers I could see, but had to pull back; an arrow tore through the space my nose had been.

“How do they possibly have this many more arrows than us?” I asked.

“It was worse in the morning.” Sigmund said. “But THAT is an excellent question. We’ve been building up the armory for two months.”

If any of my arrows hit anything, I was too busy taking cover to notice.

But there were eight archers, then six...

“Brother, gather those who can flash step.” Sigmund commanded.

“Currently, that’s just me.” Victor said.

“All right, then, brother. We’re the distraction, get at least one of their professionals. Everyone, the time is now! CHARGE!”

One arrow stuck in my shield; another took my left sandal clean off. And then I was over the barrier, and...

And there were more than six, most of whom were charging us. I saw two of the archers giving each other a high five, not aware yet that Victor was behind them, possibly slaying their mentor.

“Uncharge! Uncharge!” Sigmund shouted. “Hold to the barrier!”

It’s a miracle that only one of us got hit in the buttocks getting back over.

“Brace and hold!” he commanded. “If we lose the front now, we’ll have to fight for it tomorrow.”

Two of them jumped clear over our line. One moved to attack the jarl, the other made for the open door.

“Ollog, now!” I shouted. He pivoted into the doorway, shield in the lead. And then, I had my own set of opponents to worry about.

One of them speared me in the lower jaw, was trying to hook the bone when I tore it free. He had no shield, so I hit him in the hip, and he went sprawling.

“Damn them all!” Sigmund shouted, “Inside! Inside!”

I smelled smoke from somewhere. I made haste over the one who would have made it past us.

“A curse on you, Woden!” screamed one from beyond the now burning wall of detritus. “We’ll kill your favored one yet.”

But the wards, as I said, were strong.

“Did we lose anyone? My brother, where is my brother?”

“I am here.” Victor said. “I’m sorry, brother. I only killed the one. He danced like a priestess of the fire. I will need a healing potion.”

.....

“You shall have one, brother. Anyone else?”

“I think his name is Hrald.” I said.

“Harald, what of him?”

“He took an axe to the face; I’d be surprised if that’s not a Severe Wound.”

“Harald’s been talking about getting a fearsome tattoo.” Ollog said.

I didn’t see the humor in it, but everyone else laughed. My legs chose that time to quit working, throwing me down on my left side.

Tomas pointed at me, and another round of laughter shook the entry room. Then he gripped my shoulder and helped me up. “Well, someone needs a bandage.”

“Thank you...” I said.

He hurled me to the floor. “You should probably get one. Shall I tell Frieda there is no class tonight, either?”

“There will be lessons, but I will definitely not be sparring with her.”

He curled his lip at me. “She’ll be heartbroken. Remember later that YOU are the one who did that to her.”

What. The. Seven. Hells.

Wasn’t this the same person entrusting me to send his daughter away just yesterday?

“I shall, lord.” I kept my eyes downcast until they moved on.

[Mystic Analysis module is available for one hundred twenty development points. Focus here to...]

I dismissed the message. Okay, the System wouldn’t do this for me, it was something to do myself.

[Your health is 2/30 points.]

But first, a bandage, and if I could get one, a healing potion.

Someone had used lavender paste on my woolen bandage, and then sprinkled garlic inside that. I found a pair of scissors, cut off a swath, and secured it to my lower jaw with pine resin.

The healing potions were gone. Both beds were occupied. “Is anyone bringing you supper?” I asked.

“No.”

“Yes, you are. Slave.”

Right. Of course, I was; didn’t I do everything else?

[You have resisted mental control, but gained two points of Envy. After Sin Armor, one point of Envy has been gained.]

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