The Girl Who Killed a God - 040 - Battle of the Keep (Patreon)

The two pushed the cart as quickly as possible, the flames generating heat as more arrows plunged into the cart. Splashes of fire from whatever oil the arrows were wrapped and dipped in caused it to spread faster.

“A few more feet!” Max yelled, suddenly shifting the angle of the cart when an arrow missed his left leg by only a few inches.

Grace felt sweat drip into her hair.

Is he that nervous?

The bottom of the cart banged into something and stopped.

“You’re up! Be fast so we can move!”

She felt the cart shift from her hands as Max took over, supporting it.

Moving to the side, Grace saw the barrier and noticed it was slightly larger than the other two.

I guess we’ll find out just how strong I am…

Running toward the barrier, Grace immediately saw more flaming arrows coming in her direction.

[Juggernaut]

Ignoring the sensation that came over her, Grace grabbed the massive barrier and planted her feet, using her hips to lift it up.

It was a lot heavier than she had anticipated. The weight of it caused the whole thing to sag from where she was grabbing it in the middle.

“Just move it!” Max shouted, trying to spur her into action.

Dipping with her legs as she hoisted it above her feet, Grace pushed with everything she had, sending it crashing about ten yards away, landing and shattering near the guard shack. In her head, she was counting time. Five seconds remained, and as an arrow bounced off her, she reached into the pouch on her hip, grabbed a stone, and tossed it, sending it through an opening in the wall, sounds of shouting coming from inside.

As she turned back to where Max stood, she saw the cart, over two dozen arrows impaled in it and roaring like a log on the fire on its exposed side.

Racing back to safety, one more arrow bounced off her side harmlessly as she made it back just a second before she flashed again.

“We need to move!” Grace exclaimed. “This thing is going to break apart from the fire!”

“Then let’s go!”

She grabbed the axles, and the two of them quickly moved through the open space, taking the flaming cart with them as they got near the edge of the walls, out of view from the holes near them.

“Put the cart over there!”

They positioned the cart against the wall, leaving it leaning sideways as the fire and smoke drifted up toward the openings, using the little bit of aid the smoke provided to give them a breather.

“Think they will drop stuff on us?” Grace asked as she kept her eyes peeled upward.

“If they were smart, yes, but that would mean they had time to prepare.”

A massive rock tumbled from the hole above their pyre, slamming into the burning cart and cracking it.

Grace glanced at the bridge where shouts and yells were coming as the people she cared about raced across the bridge, the huge cart lifted over their heads.

A grin appeared for a second as she saw the first line of people before the cart, holding out wooden shields crafted from any wood they could lash together.  The wall wasn’t great, and a few arrows soon slipped through the gaps, bringing someone down and opening a hole for more to follow.

“I need to buy them time!”

She moved away from the wall, holding stones in each hand, and began tossing them in the only spot she could get them.

She would often send one flying into it, the sound of shouts and her projectile clattering against stone with a force the men didn’t expect.

“You’re breaking that rock!” Max exclaimed.

Without pausing, Grace continued her randomly timed assault, buying a few precious seconds as the people slowly made it across the bridge.

“There he is!” Max pointed out.

Brinduol was on the right corner, helping to carry the cart, the rope and hook he had promised wrapped around his upper body.

A grin covered the man’s face as he locked eyes with Grace, giving her a nod before yelling with the rest of the people charging toward them.

“They're running out of arrows,” Max said as the crowd made it past the bridge and were only about twenty yards away.  “Now comes the hard part.  You need to get that door open.”

Grace nodded and waited anxiously, needing Brinduol to reach her with the rope and hook.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her.

Max was staring at her. His eyes were narrowed as he gave Grace a gentle shake.

“Be smart. Use your brain. You can’t fall from this height without taking damage,” he informed her, tapping his temple once. “This all rests on you, so don’t forget why you are doing this.”

She nodded, the rage of fire in her heart burning as an image of Levi appeared in her mind.

Turning her head back toward the street, she could see him a bit away, standing with about twenty others, there to support her if required.

-----

“Be careful, little sister,” Brinduol said with a smile as he pulled the rope and climbing hook off his chest.  “Let it spool here on the ground and toss it up there.  That’s the best spot for you.”

Holding the metal object in her hand by the three-foot tube, Grace studied the three curved hooks.

They're like giant fishing hooks…

She gave it a few hefts to get the weight down and then took a few steps back, making sure she and no one else who was rushing the walls, making their way along the walkway and the falling rocks to reach the doors of the keep.

“Do it!” Max shouted as he began to move with the others. “I’ll see you soon!”

Taking a deep breath, Grace bent down and tossed the hook up and over, watching it fly at the angle she could see in her mind.  Brinduol had mentioned using the rope to get enough momentum, but she didn’t need to attempt that.

It flew over the top of the wall, and a clattering noise came as it slammed into the other side.

“Now pull, slowly,” Brinduol said as he backed away.  “If it falls, be ready to move and dodge it.”

She nodded and began pulling the rope slowly, occasionally having to give it a tug before it came loose and started moving again.  It felt like forever as she continued pulling, trying to focus on the object above while noise around her echoed off the stone walls.

“A little more,” Brinduol stated, his eyes focused on the rope.

Grace gave a few more hand-over-hand pulls on the rope, watching it coil at her feet until suddenly it stopped.  She could make out the hook's end with the rope hanging slightly over the wall.

“Give it three good tugs, not enough to break the rope, but to make sure it’s not going to move!”

Holding her breath, Grace gave tugs like Brinduol had informed her, and after the third yank on the rope, which didn’t fall, she saw the man smile at her.

“Now hang on it for a moment, bounce a little.”

She did as he said, grabbing on and lifting her feet, suspended only a foot off the ground, and began to bounce quickly.  It held solid.

“Good! Now, be safe and climb fast! I’ll join you after you reach the top!”

Smiling, Grace began to climb the rope, hand over hand, barely using her feet as the strength in her arms didn’t require it and would slow her down.

The wall began to glide past her as she climbed, the first hole she could see almost near her head.  Shouting from inside was easier to hear, and the frustration of what was below and the lack of materials told her they were not prepared enough.

At head level, Grace caught a shout from inside and increased her speed immediately, knowing there was no time to waste.

“Where is the oil?! We need to drop and light it!”

Knowing that if the guards covered everyone below in oil and set it on fire, too many lives would be lost.

Sections of the rope moved by at a foot or two at a time, each pull of her arms propelling her upward with a speed no ordinary person could manage.  Even a sailor would struggle to climb rope as she was, unburdened by body weight and more strength than Max could imagine having right now.

The edge of the wall came into her view, and the hook held fast. With five more hand-over-hand movements, she grasped the rough stone, worn down by the elements that weathered it daily.

Pulling herself up and over, Grace glanced around at the keep below, seeing a few men rushing around, most of them ordinary men from the town and only the occasional guard.

A small ladder ran down to a walkway about twenty yards from her, and she took off in a sprint, pulling her sword from its scabbard as she ran.

The sounds of shouting and panic filled this side of the keep, and when Grace made it to the walkway, the door she needed to get into was another thirty yards away.

Keeping her body in the shadows and not expecting anyone to look up at her, she raced toward the central area of the keep, running along the battlements, unsure what she would find inside.

Tugging gently on the massive metal ring bolted to the wooden door, Grace frowned. It didn’t budge.

Feels bolted from the other side.

“Bring the oil! It doesn’t need to be boiling!”

Time was running out, and she didn’t have the luxury of trying to sneak in.

Setting the sword against the stone wall, Grace grabbed the metal ring and jerked.  The door groaned under the force of her pull but held tight.

Biting her lip, she cursed under her breath and tugged again.  Some noise came, and the door squeaked, bits of stone popping and dust forming at the seams.

Taking a deep breath, Grace closed her eyes and imagined Levi. The vision of what he looked like when she found him, knocked unconscious flooded her mind, and she growled.

She yanked on the ring, hearing the bolts holding it in struggle under the strain, but she didn’t care.  The door was moving slowly. Something was bending on the other side, and after two more massive tugs, the sound of metal breaking filled the air, and the door flew open, almost sending her flying backward and over the side of the walkway.

Regaining her balance, Grace ran toward the opening, grabbing her sword as she moved by and heard the sound of alarm at what had just happened to the door.

“Up there!”

As she rounded the doorway, Grace saw the steps leading down and men trying to carry heavy metal containers filled with what she knew was oil that had vapors rising above it.

“Intruder!

The guard standing near a funnel system that would pour the oil out onto the people below pointed at her, shouting and drawing attention to her.

It only took a moment for her to see that four actual guards were here, and the other half dozen were standard men.

Taking the steps three at a time, Grace didn’t pause, caring that the men closest to her were not trained in fighting.  Her sword cut through the air and their bodies, taking off one man’s head and, with a second slice of her sword, cut the other commoner in half.

Fear filled the second set of men trying to move a container of oil. They obviously hadn't expected to see a young girl cut down their friends like a butcher breaks down meat.

The sounds of boots running toward her and someone shouting took Grace’s attention away from the townspeople, seeing that one of the guards was one she recognized.

A sneer filled the man’s face, the one who had treated her with disrespect and wasn’t going to get Knight Michael when she told him to.

The curl of a smile began to form on Grace’s lip as she turned and rushed the man, her sword ready for revenge.