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			Durant's Yellow Jackets

	Episode Five: Storming the Gate of Vahlenburg

Part Two of Two Durant bounded up the wooden ladder, seconds after Rauchmann. Upon clearing the last rung and after he swung his legs over onto the ramparts, he could see there was a significant obstacle between the Yellow Jackets and a swift return to Marienburg. Hundreds of orcs were pouring out of the mountain passes and coming ever closer to the fort. “Could have used one of those coins about now,” he muttered bitterly. “What was that?” asked Rauchmann. Durant could hear the fear in his voice. “Nothing.” Durant looked out at the once verdant strip of land between the fort and the mountains to the north. The ground was littered with a mass of shouting, stinking greenskins, marching relentlessly towards the defenders of Vahlenburg. “There must be five hundred, at least,” said Karl. The orcs began to separate into unruly regiments, and moved to surround the fort. “If we’re going to go, it has to be now,” said Durant coldly. “This isn’t our fight Karl.” Karl turned to his captain, anger in his face. “Isn’t it?” he whispered. “Karl, if we stay here, we’re going to be killed along with the rest of them. What good will that do?” “I can’t leave them captain. Go if you must, but it will be without me.” Karl turned away from the captain, and began to offer instructions to the fort’s soldiers. Durant looked out towards the orcs. On a hill to the east, a variety of crude-looking war machines were being hauled into place. In a matter of minutes, the orcs would envelop the fort. Durant looked around, searching for his men. Some were still standing around near the gate, but others were running towards the northern wall. Heinz and Wilhelm already had their weapons drawn. Durant saw the worried expressions on the faces of the garrison soldiers. They probably feared that the fort would fall to orcs. And once the bulwark was gone, the orcs would be free to ravage the town of Vahlenburg and the lands beyond. Durant gritted his teeth, and realised that the Yellow Jackets could offer some help. He shouted for the others to enter the fray, and the well-trained mercenaries were quick to follow their captain’s orders. Someone bumped into him from behind. It was Lieutenant Ruhm. “Sorry,” Ruhm said meekly. “What’s the plan of defence Lieutenant?” asked Durant. “Well, I guess we start firing at them.” “You guess?” asked Durant incredulously. The inhuman shouts of the orcs were getting closer. The defenders of Vahlenburg were waiting for orders. Eyes turned towards Ruhm, whose own eyes seemed to glaze over as he stared at the horde of orcs. Suddenly, Ruhm turned and ran. He grasped for the nearest ladder. In his rush, Ruhm’s hands missed the ladder, and with an anguished shriek, he lost his balance. Karl was closest to Ruhm, and shot out a hand, trying to grab hold of the toppling lieutenant. It was to no avail, Ruhm fell to the ground, and collapsed in an ungainly heap. Several soldiers rushed to the stricken body, but Durant, peering down from the rampart, saw that Ruhm’s head faced in an unnatural position. Ruhm was motionless, his neck broken. Durant turned towards the waiting soldiers, and saw Karl already addressing them. “Stop your gawking boys!” he shouted. “Archers, target their leaders. They’re easy enough to find: the biggest, ugliest of the bunch.” The soldiers began to move into action, taking up firing positions along the wall. The Yellow Jackets had gathered around their captain, waiting for their orders. “Karl,” said Durant. “I want you to take charge of the eastern end of the wall, secure that side with anything you can find. We’ve got to get these men moving, or else we may as well throw ourselves from the walls like Lieutenant Ruhm.” “On my way cap’n. Dieter, you’re with me.” As Karl and Dieter ducked low and moved along the wall to the east, Durant gave orders to the rest of his men. He peered through the jumble of soldiers on the rampart until he located Sergeant Rauchmann. “Sergeant, you’ve got to get the men in line, those orcs will tear us to pieces otherwise,” Durant clapped Rauchmann on the back, and after a moment’s hesitation, Rauchmann found his voice. Durant returned his attention to the orcs. A group of heavily armoured black orcs marched relentlessly forward. “Target those black orcs,” Durant yelled. Durant saw a dozen of the garrison archers moving to take aim at the new threat. A hail of arrows clattered off the rusted metal covering the black orcs massive forms. “Heinz!” Heinz ducked low as a return volley of cruel black arrows whistled overhead. Heinz clasped the Hochland long rifle close to his chest, then sprinted the final few yards to Durant’s position. “Heinz, see if you can bring down that black orc commander,” Durant said. “I’ll do my best captain,” replied Heinz. Heinz kneeled and brought his rifle down, towards the regiment of black orcs who were hurling their considerable bulk against the wooden walls of the fort. Walls which suddenly seemed a lot flimsier to Durant. Heinz scanned the group of orcs, trying to distinguish their leader. All he saw was a blur of green and dull metal. “There,” said Durant. “The one with the skull on his belt. That’s the leader.” A few second later, Heinz had the skull in his rifle sight. It had taken Heinz three weeks to get used to rifle, each one hand-made and entirely individual. Eventually, the growling face of an immense black orc came into his vision. The black orc was moving around much more than Heinz felt comfortable with, and he had no choice but to wait. The pounding against the walls grew louder and louder and more determined. Heinz felt the ramparts shake, an ominous creaking filled his ears. He had no choice but to take the shot. A projectile emerged from the barrel of Heinz’s rifle with a muffled bang. In Heinz’s view, he saw the bullet impact upon the thick skull of the black orc commander. It entered the brute’s eye, and in a fraction of a second, exited the far side of the black orc’s head. Whatever brain the creature once possessed followed soon after. The black orc commander collapsed, its limp arms flailing out to either side. The defenders on the ramparts shouted in triumph. The remaining black orcs faltered, their attack stalled. They were left momentarily confused by the sudden felling of their leader. “Don’t just stand there lads, kill ‘em!” shouted Karl. Durant aimed and fired his pistols. The rest of the soldiers caught on quickly, and a steady torrent of arrows rained down on the black orcs. Despite their armour and thick hides, the missiles began to take their toll. Eventually, a pile of dead bodies was the sole reward for the attack. The defenders cheered, and turned their attentions to the rest of the orc army. Heinz finished reloading his rifle, and scanned the ranks of greenskins for a new target. The tide of orcs surged forward, and caught Durant off guard. The whole northern wall of the fort shuddered under the combined weight of two hundred angry orcs. There were far too many for the archers to stop, and Durant realised there was little he could do to stem the flood. A loud crash sounded behind him, and Durant swivelled o look. The orcish war machines were crude, but effective, and Durant saw a huge rock roll to a halt after it had destroyed Ruhm’s command tent. Durant cursed. He squinted his eyes through the hazy smoke rising from the ruined tent. He saw barrels, dozens of them lined the southern wall of the fort. “Heinz,” he shouted. “Give me your rifle.” Heinz passed Durant the weapon, and the captain looked through the magnifying cylinder fastened on top. The barrels appeared much larger to him, and he realised that the wood did not contain wine or other victuals. “Black powder,” he breathed. An idea began to form in his mind, it clarified and solidified, as he fought off the distracting noises of battle. He passed the rifle back to Heinz, then grabbed hold of the nearest ladder. “Tell Rauchmann to hold this wall until you hear my signal. Then he’s to get all of the men off the rampart and out of the gate.” “We’re retreating?” asked Heinz. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy dying in this fort.” Durant clambered down the ladder, and dashed off towards the eastern wall, where Karl, Wilhelm and Dieter were distributing an equal amount of advice and abuse upon the already rattled soldiers of Vahlenburg. Durant ignored the sprawled over the ground, and shouted up to his men. “Dieter, hold down this wall, but be ready to move on my signal.” Dieter turned at his captain’s voice, and looked somewhat bemused. “Move where?” “Just be ready,” replied Durant. “Karl, Wilhelm, with me.” Karl and Wilhelm don’t hesitate and soon the trio are standing in front of the stacked barrels. Karl ran a hand along the weather-beaten wood, and exposed some faded lettering. He looked up at Durant. “This is top-grade stuff,” Karl said. “That’s what we’re going to use to get out of here,” said Durant. “Karl, start moving these barrels into a line across the fort. Wilhelm, get those over there.” “What’s going on Captain?” asked Wilhelm. “Just move the damn barrels,” said Durant impatiently. A crestfallen Wilhelm addressed the first barrel. It was a struggle to pick the thing up, but he grunted and sweated until the barrel was in place. “What’s in these things?” he shouted to Karl as they went to get another barrel. Karl, whose brawny arms shifted the barrels with much greater ease, smiled. “Black powder lad, straight from the workshops of Nuln.” The three mercenaries moved the barrels into a line stretching from one end of the fort to the other. All the while, the clamour of the orcs on the northern wall intensified. Screams of pain from the defenders told Durant that he was running out of time. There were still half a dozen barrels remaining when Durant realised he was out of time. He had to act quickly. Durant told Karl and Wilhelm to go to the main gate and open it. The two mercenaries run over to the gate and began to work the mechanism. Meanwhile, Durant pulled a horn from his pack and sounded a retreat signal. The Yellow Jackets immediately recognised the string of notes, and began to abandon the northern wall. Heinz and the others urged the garrison soldiers to follow them. Heinz turned back towards the wall, and saw daylight. The orcs were nearly through. Moments later, the surviving members of the garrison and the Yellow Jackets waited in front of the gate. “Karl, take them to the outskirts of the town. Wait for us there,” said Durant. “Heinz, hope you’re ready.” “Captain,” said Karl. “Good luck.” “You too Karl. I’ll see you again. Very soon.” Durant and Heinz ascended to the southern rampart, and wait. Karl and the rest of the Yellow Jackets spurred the garrison through the gates, and the soldiers poured out onto the dirt track leading back to Vahlenburg. When they get to the edge of the town, Karl ordered them to halt and turn. They waited, watching two lonely figures dressed in yellow atop the gates of the fort. The sound of the orcs seemed very distant, barely threatening at all. The mercenaries and soldiers waited, unsure what would happen. The orcs were much closer and louder and far more threatening from Durant’s and Heinz’s perspectives. Breaches had been forced open all along the northern wall, and Durant knew it would be scant seconds until the orcs pour n. He rested a steadying hand on Heinz’s shoulder. The marksman had his rifle poised, ready to take the shot. “Don’t want to pressure you Heinz, but everyone’s counting on you. The townsfolk, the soldiers, me and the other lads. You get this one and you can have my cut.” Heinz looked up at Durant and winked. “That’s awfully kind of you captain.” A series of crashes reverberated around the fort as the wall was torn apart. The orcs started to work their way through the wreckage, and stormed across the ground. Their only obstacles were the dead bodies of several dozen soldiers, and a line of compact wooden barrels. Heinz breathed deeply, and took aim at the remaining stack of barrels. Smoke billowed from the rifle and bullet landed perfectly on the pile of barrels filled with premium black powder. When first barrels detonated, Durant had to drag Heinz away from watching the greatest display of fireworks either man had every seen. They leapt to the ground, Heinz twisted his ankle as he fell. Durant helped Heinz move towards their comrades. Behind them the fort of Vahlenburg erupted in a series of tremendous explosions. The orcs caught too close to the barrels were annihilated instantly, body parts flying all around the interior of the fort. Many of those still forcing their way through the wall were knocked off their feet by the wall of flame which suddenly appeared before them. By the time the final barrels exploded, half of the orcs were dead, and a quarter still reeled from their injuries. The rest thought better of it and fled back towards the mountains. All that remained of Vahlenburg’s fort was a smoking ruin, surrounding a shining pool of melted gold coins. Durant mounted his horse, and waited with the rest of the Yellow Jackets. Sergeant Rauchmann gave them a salute, and the townsfolk of Vahlenburg began to wave enthusiastically. “You can stay here if you want,” Durant called to Karl. The big man was on one knee in front of a teenage boy and his mother. “Just hang on a moment will you sir,” returned Karl. He took a wooden knife from his pack, and presented it to the boy. Karl stood up, and patted the boy gently on the head. He looked at the dark- haired woman for a drawn out moment. Catcalls and whistles from his comrades sounded in his ears. With a sigh, he turned away from the woman and rejoined the mercenaries. As the Yellow Jackets rode away, Durant turned to Karl. “I know you don’t like talking about your home Karl.” “No, you’re right cap’n, I don’t.” Karl said. He stared ahead expressionlessly. “Where did you spend the night? I didn’t see you at the tavern.” “Oh, I just had some other business to attend to.” Durant couldn’t be sure, but he would swear later that he saw Karl smile. Not for long, but definitely a smile To be continued...


		Episode Six: For a Few Barrels More

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