CHAPTER XII
“What do you hear, Ardan?”
“Big feet, and a big lot of them.”
“The doors are well secured?”
“Every bolt is drawn.”
“And the door we arranged for is left with only one bolt shot?”
“Yes. It is a quick, well-oiled bolt. It will open and close again like lightning.”
There came a loud command, and, in a moment, a thundering knock.
Naoise strode to the door.
“Who goes there?”
“The king’s men.”
“What do you want?”
“We want the woman who is with you.”
“Is that all you want?”
“And we want Naoise, the son of Uisneac.”
“They are both here,” said Naoise.
“Open this door,” the voice commanded.
“Ah, no,” Naoise laughed; “why should we do your business, honest man?”
There was no reply for a moment, but the rumble of conversation could be heard; then the voice came again:
“You others, Ainnle and Ardan and the sons of Fergus, open this door and you shall go free.”
Naoise looked gravely at his companions.
“That is the necessary second part,” said Buinne, hitching his sword-belt round.
Naoise’s brothers took no notice, but their faces grew savage and their eyes narrowed and sparkled.
“Iollann and Deirdre, keep an eye on the windows,” Naoise warned.
Iollann dangled a sling in his hand and Deirdre held another with a copper bolt in it.
“If,” said the voice, “the woman Deirdre comes out we will go away.”
“Watch the windows,” Naoise warned; “they are talking to keep us occupied.”
Deirdre’s arm swung viciously, and a wild yell told that the bolt had gone home.
“I thought so,” said Naoise. “Theycannot get in through the windows because of the bars, but they could manage to fly an arrow through, although it would be an awkward shot.”
“Why,” said Ainnle, “we could go to sleep here!”
A series of thundering knocks came on the door.
“A ram!” said Buinne.
“Half an hour of that might bring even these doors down,” said Naoise.
He turned to his companions.
“Ardan, yours will be the first sortie. They will not be prepared, lad, for it is very awkward to work a ram and to keep guard at the same time. Do not mind the men with the ram; they will be unarmed. But behind them there will be a mass of men. You know how deep a fighter can penetrate! It depends on his own weight. The instant you touch that weight fight backwards. When you are two yards from the door Ainnle will shout. Turn then and run. I shall have the door closed on you almost before you are through. The moment the door slams, you, Buinne, push in the bottom bolt. I shall slide the middle one with myright hand and will be reaching for the top one with my left. You are ready! Ardan, listen to me. The men immediately in front of you will give back a step until they start to come on. Fight, therefore, to the right sidewards, and with the point all the time. Keep your left covered with the shield, and if there is a press cut with its cutting edges. The moon is high, and you will be able to see. No foolhardiness, boy! The moment you touch weight fight backwards, and then sweep broadly with the edge, and, when Ainnle shouts, run.”
He turned again.
“Buinne, stand to the bolts. Iollann, Ainnle, Deirdre, place yourselves so, and sling the ramsmen or they may cumber his retreat.”
Under the thundering batter of the ram and the savage roaring of the invaders the bolts were half drawn.
“Ready all!” said Naoise. “Ready, Ardan?”
Ardan hunched the shield to his left side and crouched, staring.
“Good boy!” said Naoise. “Now, Buinne—Pull!”
They heaved the great door wide and Ardan went through it like an arrow.
“Sling, children,” said Naoise. “Keep me informed, Ainnle. I must stick behind the door.”
“He is at them, and well in.... Ah!” said Ainnle, and he slung shrewdly. “He has forgotten to thrust and is cutting. My thanks, Iollann, for that bolt. His shield work is excellent, brother, but he will cut. There is his limit, if he knows it. He is fighting back, and now he is thrusting where he should use the sweeping blade for a retreat! That ramsman, Iollann! This one for me, and you, sister, for the crouching man. I shall shout now.”
“Ardan!” he roared.
The boy dropped his combat as a dog drops a toad. In three seconds he was through the doorway, and in four the door had slammed.
Naoise towered long and lean over his young brother.
“Good lad!” he said. “Well done, Ardan!”
“I killed a million,” said Ardan.
A savage, raging yell came from without.
“They will begin to warm to it now,” said Naoise, “and we must keep them occupied. It is your turn, Ainnle. Give your sling to Ardan.”
Ainnle whizzed at one window and Deirdre at another. Two loud shouts were heard.
“Whether they are hit or not their skulls are cracked by the fall,” said Naoise, “but the windows do not matter. Come to this door.”
“Why cannot I go out?” said Buinne.
“You and I are the heaviest metal, my heart, and when the real fighting commences we shall have plenty to do. This is only a little fun for the boys. Ainnle, listen carefully. You will slip out by this door, and will run, and fight as you run. Range where you please, but run always. In five minutes—do not delay, Ainnle—make for yonder door. This one will be shut, and the slings-men will be inside that door to cover your retreat. It is understood?”
Ainnle nodded, and made his blade whistle through the air. He heaved the shield from his back to his shoulder.
“The instant you are in, Ainnle, fly to this door again, while we close the other behindyou. Open all the bolts but one; Buinne will help, and I and Iollann will dart out for five minutes. I wish to see what arrangements they are making.”
“Are you protecting my brother?” said Buinne savagely.
“No, my heart, I am giving him a run and spying their dispositions.”
“I claim this combat,” said the rough young man.
“You shall have one immediately afterwards. You and I together will make the tour of this fortress, shoulder to shoulder, Buinne. Will not that content you?” Naoise laughed.
“I was beginning to feel lonely,” said Buinne. “We shall have a pleasant run.”
“Ten minutes for our run,” said Naoise. “Ready, Ainnle?”
His brother nodded.
“Run straight out, thirty feet out if you can. Double then as you please. Remember the door you are to come in by, and do all the damage you can. If you are in difficulty give our call.”
“I could not get into difficulty in five minutes,” Ainnle smiled.
“Ready, Buinne? Pull!”
Ainnle sped out, and the door slammed on him like thunder.
The uproar without had been terrific, but now it redoubled, and at times a long scream topped the noise as spray tops a wave.
“We cannot see our brother,” said Deirdre nervously.
“We know his work,” Naoise replied. “He is as safe for five minutes as if he were in bed.”
“Your combat, Naoise!” she breathed.
“It will be the easiest of them all. There will be a rough companion with me. Run all to the other door,” he cried. “Iollann! Deirdre! Ardan! Your slings! The bolts, Buinne! Pull, my soul!”
Far out in the moonlight Ainnle was coursing like a deer. The moon flashed on his blade and on his shield. Men ran from him, and men ran to head him off, and into the middle of these he went diving like a fish. A band from the right came rushing for the open door.
“Out, Buinne, for ten seconds, and back when he is through.”
Naoise and Buinne leaped out with whirling weapons. There was a clatter of shields, a medley of shouts and curses, and in ten seconds they were in again and the door was closed.
“You opened a minute too early,” said Ainnle. “I was all right.”
“You did some damage?”
“Not badly.”
“You didn’t kill as many as I did,” said Ardan.
“Pooh!” Ainnle retorted. “No one could kill as many as you except Cúchulinn.”
“Let us arrange the next sortie,” said Naoise.