Süke POV

The garrison archer had dropped his bow somewhere and had a short blade in both hands when Süke came at him along the walkway.

The walkway was narrow enough that there was no good way forward. The timber planks moved under each step, no stability to push from, and on either side there was nothing but the drop into the city interior or the drop down the earthwork’s outer face.

The archer understood this, he’d been on this walkway for weeks. He had his back to the outer rail and he was making Süke come to him, which was not a poor idea given the circumstances.

Süke came in low, the man swiped right and the blade went past Süke’s shoulder. There was no room for a full swing at this distance.

Süke drove into him with his shoulder while the man’s arm was still extended and put the saber in at the armpit, driving upward. He felt it stop against something and pushed until it wouldn’t go further.

The man made a short sound and grabbed Süke’s coat with his free hand, still gripping hard, and then his legs folded and they went sideways together toward the outer rail.

Süke caught the inner rail with his left hand. The archer went over the outer one.

He hit the earthwork face below and fell into the grass on the outside.

Süke looked east. Two more garrison archers were moving fast toward the north tower, the last of the section that hadn’t gone down in the gate assault.

Yasa was three steps behind Süke and breathing hard from the climb.

"If the next one just surrenders I’d be grateful," Yasa said.

Süke kept moving. "They haven’t yet."

Arsu said from further back, "These planks are uneven. It’s giving my hand trouble."

Yasa snorted. "Nobody cares."

Köge pointed ahead. "Tower stair’s on the left."

They went.

The east tower had one archer at the stair’s top and one on the platform behind him.

The man at the stairs made the decision to come down at the pursuers rather than wait, which was the right instinct even if the stair was too narrow for it to work. He came fast with a knife and Yasa drove him hard into the stair wall at the second step, the man’s head hitting the timber upright with a flat crack, and put the saber into his chest while he was still sitting against the wall.

Yasa came up the stairs and stepped over him.

The second archer on the platform put both hands out when the arban came through. His bow was on the platform floor.

"Wait..." the man said.

Süke killed him.

The man hadn’t been ready for it and made more noise about it than was expected, but the platform was clear.

From the tower height, Bulgar spread out below.

The noise of the fight rose from the streets in a general roar without a single source. To the south, above the rooflines, a heavy black column of smoke rose from the south gate.

Orda’s banner was visible at the near position of the main White Horde formation far to the north.

Below the north wall the city was full of riders. They moved through the main avenue and the cross-streets, spreading wherever the layout allowed.

Further south along the avenue, a pocket of garrison fighters had formed a stand before the market square and was taking fire from three directions at once.

Süke looked east of the main avenue. Larger rooflines than the market buildings, and walled courtyards behind the main structures visible from this height as enclosed rectangles. The kind of wall you built when you had something worth keeping behind it.

"The walkway had nothing," he said.

Yasa leaned on the rail for a moment. "Garrison archers, what did you expect?"

"Embezzled silver, something," Süke said.

He went to the stairs.

They got their horses at the wall base and moved into the interior streets.

The main avenue was crowded with riders pushing north toward the garrison stand, and Süke took the first side street east that led away from the main flow.

The street went quieter within a hundred meters. Residential buildings, two stories, plastered timber framing.

Süke read the rooflines and gate materials as he rode. Most of them were ordinary.

One, three properties east of the next cross-street, was not. Iron-banded hardwood gate and a stone foundation wall, and the main structure behind it was two stories with glass in the second-floor window.

Glass meant merchant or official.

"Nothing in there," Yasa said when he saw Süke slow at the gate.

"Checking costs nothing but time," Süke said.

Köge looked at the gate. "Drop-bar latch. You can see it from horseback."

He only had to say it once.

They were through the gate in a few seconds.

The courtyard had three guards. Two by the main door and one near the stable on the east side with an unstrung military bow, no time to have strung it.

Arsu cut the one with the bow before he reached the door, the blade going across the back of his thighs, and the man hit the door face-first and slid down it.

The first door guard was fast.

He came at Arsu directly, which was the right move. Arsu had just forced his swing and was off-balance coming out of it.

The man got inside with the short sword and made a real thrust for Arsu’s chest.

Arsu got his forearm up in time, barely. The blade skidded off the inside of it and opened the coat sleeve without touching skin.

He went back two hard steps and almost went down.

The guard followed him in and Süke cut the man across the back of the shoulder from behind, deep on the right side, the man’s arm dropped and he turned still trying to bring the sword up.

Yasa finished him before he could.

The third guard had stood very stiff through all of this.

Then he run for the courtyard gate.

Köge pursued him down from horseback before he went through it.

Arsu stood in the courtyard looking at his coat sleeve.

Köge walked past him toward the house. "Inside."

They dismounted and tied the horses.

In the main room, there was four people.

An adult man stepped in front of the others when the arban came through the door.

"Wait," he said in Bulgar, holding his hands out.

Süke cut him across the chest on the diagonal when he didn’t move back.

He went down against the far wall crying out, his hand going to the wound, blood running between his fingers and down his coat front.

A woman behind him started screaming.

"No, no, please..."

Süke cut her throat with the return stroke and she went down hard and stopped.

Two young men at the back of the room broke for the rear hallway.

Yasa took the first one in the back between the shoulders and he went down on his face.

"Father!" he shouted, still moving, his hands working against the floor.

Arsu took the second with two cuts across the body, the man stumbling into the wall and grabbing the door frame, holding it for a moment, and then letting go and sitting down in the doorway.

The first young man stopped moving on the floor shortly after.

The second died in the door frame not long after that.

Süke went up the front stairs.

The accounts room was on the second floor, front of the house, where the glass window was.

A desk with a hinged top. Underneath the hinged top a ledger and a flat iron box.

He picked up the box, it was heavier than expected.

Köge came through the door and looked at the lock.

"One kick should do it," he said.

Süke handed him the box. "Then kick it."

Köge kicked it.

The lock only creaked.

He snorted and kicked it a second time. The lid gave at the hinge.

The box had silver coin in large quantity, a cloth bag he opened to find gold rings and a bracelet, and a document case he dropped on the floor.

He took the coin and the cloth bag.

Yasa appeared in the doorway and looked into the box. "More like it."

"I told you," Süke said.

"You say that every time," Yasa said.

"Every time I’m right," Süke said.

They divided the coin in the accounts room.

Arsu flexed his arm. "My forearm still isn’t fully healed from Džuketau and a blade nearly cut it again today. I’ll need help loading my share."

Yasa looked at him. "The wound healed two days ago."

"It healed poorly," Arsu said.

Köge put Arsu’s portion in a belt pouch and handed it back to him without commenting on the forearm.

Süke took the cloth bag with the jewelry.

"That should be divided," Yasa said.

"I found the room," Süke said.

Yasa looked at Köge. "You kicked the box open."

Köge shrugged. "I don’t want the jewelry."

That ended it.

They came out through the courtyard gate with the horses loaded.

The dead guard near the door was visible from the gate as they left, the one Yasa had finished, sitting against the courtyard wall with his sword still in his hand.

Süke turned his horse toward the main avenue.

North of them the garrison stand at the market square was still going by the sound of it.

There was more to do before the day was finished.