The battering ram struck, and the castle was breached. The door fell uselessly to the side as my men rushed through the gatehouse.
Suddenly, I heard a great gushing sound, followed by bellows of pain. Oil. My bravest men, the ones who were first through the breach, lay wriggling in agony, reduced to fish flopping on some monger's floor.
I was already angry, but now I was enraged. I called for the ladders, not wanting to send any more men through the gate. The air stank of burning man-flesh. I began to hoist myself up the ladder. A boy threw a rock at me -- it hit my helmet and clanged off. I skewered him as I alighted on the parapet. I used my boot to push his corpse into the courtyard. He thumped into dirt. Stupid boy.
Some have called me cruel. Others, unchristian. But I know what I am. I am a soldier. More than that -- I am a commander.
Every good commander knows to treasure every good soldier like a miser with gems. Alexander conquered the world with a few thousand men and their undying loyalty. Good soldiers must be conserved, not thrown away.
And yet here I was, losing men because of the piggishness of a rich lord who did not want to pay the war-time taxes he owed to my liege. My lord needed those taxes — the swine's lands are rich —but could not spare the time to starve him out, as my men are needed in the west, in the struggle against the heathens. And so, this assault. This waste. I will make the bastard pay in full, I swore.
I moved along the parapet toward the gatehouse, legs slightly bent in the stance beaten into me in my youth. In front and behind me, more of my men clambered over the wall, overwhelming the pitiful defenders.
I reached the gatehouse. An old man with a tangled white beard and sodden clothes was fleeing out the back. I grabbed him by the shoulder and gutted him. He stank of oil -- I spat in his face as he died. I gave the signal to my men below, and they charged through the gate, stepping over the bodies of their fellows. They penetrated the courtyard, and the real slaughter began.
Almost a fortnight earlier, we defeated the swine's army in battle, leaving him with mostly peasant levies to defend against my professionals. The peasants fought for their lives, but their hands were better acquainted with plow and harrow than sword and shield. Dozens fought and died, and the rest threw down their swords. Those ones died shrieking pleas for Christian mercy.
Some of my soldiers discovered the women and children hiding among the grain stores. They kept watch, grinning wolfishly at the younger women. But they knew better than to start now. Business first, pleasure later. The castle's keep remained unconquered.
The keep was impressive for a small castle. It towered above the exterior walls and was surrounded by a ditch with sharp stakes. A drawbridge had been hastily pulled up as I emerged from the gatehouse. However, I saw no faces staring out from the slits in the keep or on the battlements above. Apparently, the defenders had not had time to retreat. I wanted to end this.
"Show yourself, you cowardly cunt!" I yelled, as my men assembled around the moat.
A sallow, bald head appeared above the battlement. Even from here, I could smell his fear.
"Please! I'll surrender — just spare my life! And my daughter!"
