Chapter 235: Sea and Stone
Chapter 235: Sea and Stone
Portesur had fallen swifter than any expected. The southerners’ siege craft had broken the walls, allowing the mercenaries to storm the defences. Once inside, they had looted the city as part of their payment. Now, it served as the bridgehead for Alcázar’s invasion on the mainland. Its provisions had been added to those of the army, and its port provided anchorage for the fleet.
Despite the swift conquest, the victorious commander did not grow complacent. By now, the army had reached a size of several tens of thousands, too many for the fleet to transport at once. Instead, a few days after the fall of Portesur, they began their march north. They followed the coastline, allowing ships to resupply them in addition to provisions plundered from the surroundings.
It took them several weeks, but finally, their destination came into sight. Herbergja, the busiest port in Adalmearc and the economic heart of the Seven Realms. They immediately began preparations for the siege. In Adalrik, by a twist of fate, the same took place; just as the southerners had reached Herbergja, so did the outlanders begin their ill-fated siege of Middanhal.
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From the walls of Herbergja, Sir Asger watched the arrival of the enemy. Their tents seemed to fill the horizon with countless banners in many colours, each denoting a different company of hired swords. In contrast, the black standard with the white star of the Order flew from the city towers, next to the raven flag of Thusund.
Soldiers in black surcoats filled the towers along with archers from the isles, ready for defence. As the seat of the Order in Thusund, the defence of the city was entrusted to them. Besides the stone fortifications and warriors of the Star, it also had the Mihtea for protection. The great river flowed to envelop Herbergja as a moat on every side before reaching the sea. The danger to the city did not come from land. Turning his gaze west, the marshal looked towards the harbour.
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East of the city, Prince Saif rode with his advisors and guards to the riverbank. The area had already been searched by his troops, and one company had forded the river to control the other side. All Mearcian troops were either inside the city or far away.
Once the group reached the Mihtea, they dismounted and approached the river. The waters flowed swiftly past. In times of peace, scores of vessels would be moving in either direction, transporting goods to and from Herbergja. Now, it lay empty.
“At least freshwater will not be an issue,” remarked Adherbal, the prince’s closest advisor.
Saif walked up to the bank while the guards spread out, sending watchful gazes in all directions. “What do you think?” he asked.
The engineer glanced around with a sceptical demeanour. “Not easy, Your Highness. The river flows fast and wide at this point, so close to the sea. Tributaries from the mountains.” He pointed at the Weolcans that lay to the north. “Not many places to dig, especially not in safe distance from the city.”
“How long?”
Chewing on his lip, the engineer looked west towards the sea. “Even with thousands digging, it would take many months to divert the river. If we are unfortunate and winter is harsh, it will freeze the ground, delaying work even further.”
“That is too late,” Saif muttered to himself. “I want the city taken before the winter storms.”
“Fortunately, we have other means,” Adherbal added.
“We do. Let us return to camp.”
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Herbergja’s wealth lay not only in the Mihtea, providing swift trade with the inlands of Adalmearc. Where the river met the sea, a large bay formed a good, natural harbour, enhanced through centuries by further works. Stone walls lay like arms extending into the blue, protecting ships in the port from storms. The deep waters allowed all vessels to make anchor, including those meant for the long journeys to the South Cities. Trade from all the known world met in Herbergja; for this reason, the city was coveted by the kings of Ealond and kabirs of Alcázar alike.
The harbour also gave the city its weakness. The entrance lay too wide for effective defence as in Dvaros and could not be easily blocked. The stone arms that reached into the sea ran long, but not tall. Easy to scale and requiring many men to defend properly.
“How much stone do we have?” asked the marshal. He walked along the piers, inspecting the fortifications.
“Enough for the most pressing repairs, I suppose,” replied the mason accompanying him. He glanced out into the water at the extended walls. It had been decades if not longer since Herbergja had been under threat from the sea; the ships of Thusund usually guarded the waters of the Eylonde Sea. For that reason, the walls had been allowed to fall into disrepair. “Any chance the quarries in the north can send more?”
“I doubt the southrons will allow any ships to reach us,” Asger admitted. “You have what you have.”
“I’ll make do,” the mason claimed, though his face held little confidence.
“Get to work immediately.” The marshal turned around, walking back to the Order castle that lay nearby, watching over the harbour. Behind him, the craftsmen did as instructed while workers began hauling stone.
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Among the first things, the southerners set up defences facing Herbergja. They placed them far closer to the city than typical, with a distance of less than half a mile. From the walls, the defenders watched with concern. Besides palisades to guard against attack, the engineers of the besieging army were busy. Soldiers hauled large amounts of timber along with complicated bits of machinery. Curiously, those with sharpest eyes noticed that a woman directed the works, acting as the engineer in charge.
It took several days for the construction to finish. Safe behind a stockade, rising above the wooden defences, three trebuchets rose into the air. Once ready, the southerners began their bombardment.