True Magics (50 page)

“Five more roofs,” said Fenris. “Then an apartment building on the corner. It’s two stories higher than this one, with windows overlooking the rooftop.”

“Which will be perfect if we can get through to the roof,” said Thomas. “I’ll send up George and the smiths. They’re the strongest, they can probably break through the fastest.”

“Try to do as little damage as possible,” said Fenris. “This is my room.”

Which means he’ll have no place to sleep.
“Thank you, Fenris.”

“Just get them out safely, Thomas,” said Fenris. “We like you lot, you know. We’d rather not see you dead.”

Thomas went back to George and Eileen. “George, can you follow Fenris upstairs and see if you can break through the roof? Take some others with you.”

“Right,” said George, getting up and calling for the other smiths.

“The roof?” Eileen said. “Will that work?”

“Don’t know,” said Thomas. “Don’t have a better idea, though.”

Eileen leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Dropping her voice to a near-whisper, she said, “You’re not going to let them take you, are you?”

“Not without a fight,” said Thomas, making his voice as quiet as hers. “But I’m not going to let anyone die for me either.”

“Do you think they’ll surrender?”

“If things get bad enough,” said Thomas. “As long as the doors hold out, they’ll be fine, but once the soldiers break through…”

“We have the barricades.”

“They’ll bring in crossbows,” said Thomas, “And then we’re done for.”

“Aren’t you cheery,” said Graham, coming up behind them. “We’ll hold them at the door.”

“I know you will,” said Thomas, putting on a smile.

“And you won’t be here to see it anyway because you’ll be off getting help.” He sat down beside them. “How is that going, by the way?”

“We think we can break out of the roof,” said Thomas.

As if in answer, there was a THUD from above loud enough to shake the walls. Every student in the room looked up. A second THUD, and half of them struggled to their feet.

“It’s all right!” called Thomas. “It’s us doing that. Not them.”

There was another THUD, then silence. Thomas waited for more, but none came. Soon George stepped out of the kitchen and came over.

“Too loud,” said George, who looked mighty annoyed. “We can break through, but anyone outside will hear us.”

Thomas swore and thought hard. “Is there any way to do it quietly?”

“Not quickly,” said George.

“Captain!” a student ran out of one of the upstairs rooms. “They’re coming up the alley! Dozens of them!”

“Everybody up!” Thomas shouted. “My company at the back! George and the smiths with me! Everyone else to the door and barricades!”

They ran for the kitchen, with Marcus walking behind.

At Fenris and Marcus’s suggestion, the back door had been barricaded with barrels of wine, each weighing well over five hundred pounds. The students at the back were on their feet, waiting.

“They won’t get through,” said Marcus, who had followed Thomas in. “That door is six-inch thick oak bound in iron, and triple-barred. They won’t get it open without an axe.”

Thomas ran out to the common room. “Upstairs! Are the troops bringing axes?”

The moments it took him to come back were some of the longest Thomas had endured. “No axes I could see,” came the reply. “Just swords and shields!”

“Keep watching!” Thomas ran back to the kitchen. He arrived just as the Church soldiers began pounding on the door –with the pommels of their swords by the sound of it. Thomas waited for the sound of breaking wood. It didn’t happen. The barrels that blocked the door didn’t even shake under the pounding.

But maybe they’re making enough noise.
“George! Go upstairs and get working. As long as they’re banging on the door, knock holes in the roof.”

“Right!” George ran for the stairs, taking two of the smiths with him. Thomas watched for a short time longer, then turned to his company. “Smiths, go take a break. My company stay here. If you hear wood breaking or smell smoke, call for help. I’ll send someone to spell you in an hour, otherwise, got it?”

“Got it,” said Michael.

Thomas walked back to the common room. “Why is the back door so thick?”

“It’s a favourite for thieves and those who try to sneak out without paying for their drinks,” said Marcus. “There hasn’t been a successful break-in, or out, since our grandfather changed it.”

“Good thinking.”

Thomas told the students what was happening. Most relaxed, though no one put their weapons away. Thomas stayed on his feet and in the middle of the room, listening to the hammering from the back door and above. Both went on for the better part of a quarter hour. Then the men at the back door gave up. A moment later, the roof work fell silent.

“They didn’t get through,” said Eileen. “Not as quickly as that.”

“I know,” said Thomas. “We’ll have to wait until the next attack.”

Thomas’s company were coming back in from the kitchen when the student watching the front from upstairs called out, “They’re coming! And they’ve got a battering ram!”

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Thomas and Eileen ran for the front door, the rest of their company behind them. Avery and his company had ringed the door and manned the barricades. Marcus had returned to his stool and was looking quite unconcerned.

“How thick is the front door?” Thomas asked.

“As thick as the back.”

“Same reason?”

“That, and other incidents.”

“Will that be enough?”

“Depends how big the battering ram is,” said Marcus.

Thomas yelled, “How big is the ram?”

From above there was the sound of steel sticking into wood, and a yelp of surprise. A moment later Carl came running down the stairs, shouting, “We’re all right! We had to open the shutter to get a good look. They shot at us. There’s six men holding the ram, three to each side.”

“Ah,” said Marcus. “That will dent the door, but not break it, I should think.”

The first hit of the battering ram shook the door and echoed through the room. The students at the barricades tensed.

The battering ram hit again. Then the men wielding it found their rhythm and set up a steady beat, pounding hard against the door with each stroke.

“If I might suggest,” said Fenris from the kitchen door. “Boiling water poured out the shutter slats of the window above the door has worked well for this sort of thing in the past.”

Thomas stared at him. “Someday, I’m going to have to hear all the stories about this place.”

“There are many,” said Fenris. “I’ll fetch the kettle.”

The battering ram kept smashing at the door. The door rattled with each hit, but stayed on its hinges, and didn’t buckle or break.

“Look out!” said Fenris, coming out of the kitchen with a kettle big enough to make tea for everyone in the room. He held it easily in one hand by its towel-wrapped handle. “Hot kettle, out of the way please.”

The students cleared a path and Fenris went upstairs. The ram struck the door a dozen more times. Then came the splash of water, and screams of pain. The banging on the front door stopped. From above came more thudding as George and the others got in a few more strikes before they, too, fell silent.

Fenris came down the stairs, swinging the empty kettle in his hand. “They left,” announced Fenris. “And were none too happy, I might add.”

“Think they knew that wasn’t going to work?” asked Eileen.

“I wonder,” said Thomas. “Maybe they’re just planning to keep us busy all night so they can exhaust us before their real attack.”

“We need to get out of here,” said Avery.

“I know,” said Thomas. “We’re working on it.”

“Well, work faster,” said Avery.

“They’re coming to the back door again!”

Thomas swore, and headed for the kitchen.

Two hours and four more false attacks later, George came back downstairs. He was covered in plaster dust and splinters. “We’re through,” he told Thomas. “Sorry it took so long. Whoever made this place did it to last.”

“Can we get out there?” Thomas asked.

George nodded. “I think so. Roof is wet and slippery though. I wouldn’t want to walk on it.”

“Neither would I, but since there’s no choice…” Thomas headed for the kitchens and the stairs up.

“I’ll come, too,” said Eileen. “It’s better than sitting around here.”

They went up the back stairs. The temperature dropped as they went closer, and not just from the cold wind Thomas felt coming in. Angeline was standing by the door to Fenris’s room, glaring. “You tore a hole in my roof.”

“We did,” said Thomas.

“It’s going on your bill.”

“I know,” said Thomas. “Of course, you have to let me go out so I can get the money to pay it.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” grumbled Angeline. “Just be careful. I don’t need you falling off the neighbours’ roofs. It won’t do a thing for our reputation.”

The hole in the roof was big enough for even George to crawl through, though it would be a tight fit. Thomas put his head out and looked. The cold was refreshing, after the close air of the tavern. There was no wind to speak of, and no scent of water on the air.
At least we won’t have to deal with rain.

It wasn’t much of an escape. The roof was steep—expected in a town where winter meant large quantities of snow and spring and fall meant weeks of rain—and ran down to a common gutter between the buildings, then up to the next equally steep roof, which was covered in tiles as well, though Thomas couldn’t tell if they were slate or clay. Either way, they’d be slippery. Getting down it would be easy enough, but climbing the next one would be nearly impossible. And if there were any rotten spots in the roof next door, or any of the shingles were loose, whoever was climbing would be almost certain to slip and fall.
Thirty feet down at least. That’s broken legs if I’m lucky.

“We’d need rope,” Thomas said. “Otherwise we’ll fall off if we slip.”

“We could cut a hole through to the next roof,” said one of the smiths.

“Too noisy and too close to the Church troops,” said Thomas. “Better to go over.”

He turned his eyes away from the roof to the sky. The clouds were low and thick.

Father Alphonse said the city was on fire.
In Frostmire, when the city had been burning, the glow of it had reflected on the low clouds, turning the sky ruddy orange and dirty yellow. Thomas searched the sky on both sides, and could see a few clouds lit from below with orange light, but nothing to suggest the entire city was on fire.
He lied, of course,
Thomas thought.
At least that’s something.

Thomas pulled his head back in and asked Angeline, “Do you have any rope?”

“A fair bit,” she said. “What for?”

“For getting over the roof and getting your money,” said Thomas, heading for the stairs. “What else?”

Back down in common room Thomas took the stage. “We’ve gone through the roof,” he said. “It’s wet out and steep, but I can make it. Not by myself, though.”

“Take George,” said Eileen.

“Take Eileen,” said George in the same moment.

The laughter that received was far more than the moment deserved, and Thomas could hear the tension in the sound. He smiled himself and tried to think of what to say.

“Take both,” said Graham. “And go quickly before something else happens.”

In the dim light of the fire the bruises and blood on the students stood out against their skin. Thomas could see the inner lights of each of them, shining faintly in the dim light of the room. Most of them were tinged with red.
If I don’t get help, they’re all going to die.

“I will,” said Thomas. “As soon as it gets dark. And I’ll be back as fast as I can. I promise.”

“They’re coming again!” shouted the front watcher. “Lots of them, this time!”

“Posts!” Thomas yelled as he ran up the rest of the stairs. “Everyone to their posts!” He dashed to the front room and looked out through the slats on the shutters. What he saw made him swear and run back down. “Everyone on your feet! This is it!”

“This is what?” asked George. Around him, students were shaking one another awake and grabbing at weapons.

“There’s at least fifty of them, and they’ve got bigger ram,” said Thomas, drawing his rapier. “Twelve men carrying it on ropes. Everyone on the barricades and windows!”

“You’re supposed to be leaving!” said Graham, whose company was on watch at the front door. Carl, beside him, nodded.

“I know,” said Thomas. “Everyone get to your posts! Now!” The rest of the company formed up at the front door. Thomas looked to Marcus and Fenris. “You probably shouldn’t be here if they break through.”

“We aren’t intending to be,” said Marcus. “We will keep the kitchen door shut and claim to be prisoners, should it come to that. Would you like us to send the others from the kitchens out to you?”