he says under his breath.
As soon as I hear the low note, I grab one of the ladders and begin to climb, cutting ahead of others who were in line. My hammer lies on my back in its specialized sheathe.
There are yells above us. One soldier looks over the wall of the second tier in unbelief. “How did they-” he begins, but once again an arrow cuts him short.
I fling myself over the wall and onto the floor of the second tier. Now I will have to fight down to the portcullises, but I am not alone. Percival is right behind me, as are a few other soldiers.
Percival looks to me and gives me a nod. I look ahead, unsheathe my hammer, and then charge into the Acropolis.
I’m in a hall. Quickly I turn left and down another hall, passing doors that lead to who-cares-where. Torches light the hallways with orange light.
“Do you know where you’re going?” a soldier asks.
“Of course,” I mutter, having had directions from the Jarl only minutes earlier.
At the end I take another left and down the stairwell that curves slightly left, following the curve of the massive structure. The stairwell lets out into an identical hallway on the next floor down, but we run straight and onto the next curving staircase.
In the next hallway there are men waiting for us. I smash through them with no trouble, turn right, and run only a few steps to the end of the hallway. There, on the floor, sits a cylindrical structure that extends to the ceiling. Long thick wooden spokes stick out in six directions, roughly as high as my midriff. At the top, the mechanism turns a gear that in turn spins two reels, one on each side. Each reel is connected with chains to the portcullis below in a simple pulley system. This will lift the portcullis.
“Take the spokes!” I roar. Some of the biggest men take places at the sideways wheel and begin to push. They groan with the effort they exert, but with a creak the gears turn, the reels spin, and the portcullis begins to lift. The chains ravel themselves onto the reels neatly.
Men are beginning to attack us. The initial shock of a surprise attack is still there, but some of them are ready for the ensuing battle.
“How did they get in the city?” I hear.
I protect with my life the men that are lifting the portcullis. Percival, in possession of his own sword and shield, fights bravely next to me.
I knock aside one soldier and turn to search for a lever or something similar that will lock the portcullis in the open position. Instead I see that there’s a mechanism already in place to keep it from falling, but there’s a release lever to let it fall. Satisfied, I turn to my next opponent.
The portcullis comes into sight underneath the pulley system. Slowly, as the men continue to push, it rises until it fills the dead end of the hallway. Then the men come away, and though they are exhausted, they pull their swords and ready themselves to protect what they have worked so hard to raise.
Within moments the Tygnar soldiers see that their cause is doomed. They stand trapped between us and the impending army quickly infiltrating and ascending the Acropolis. Still they continue to fight until our army floods the hall. Then they see the wisdom of surrender. Many of them drop their weapons and raise their hands, fleeing into nearby rooms or hallways. I spot Jarl Hralfar at the head at the other end of the hallway. Quickly I make my way over to him and exit the hallway into a huge room.
It reminds me much of the circular room in Nringnar’s Deep, but it’s three stories high and much larger. After the ground floor, there are two balconies overlooking the entire room, lining the walls of the room and providing a way into the hallways that extend in all four directions.
“Do we control the first tier?” I ask as we stride back down the hallway.
“We just began,” he responds. “But many of them were not able to react quickly enough to give us any resistance. Those that were are dead, or soon will be. Everyone else, if not asleep anymore, will have very little time to prepare themselves against our force.”
“Then we ascend,” I say. “Do we leave the Jarl alive?”
“Yes,” he says. “He could yet prove useful to us.”
I nod and lead up the stairs.
On