The Merchant’s War

The corkscrewing steps (spiraling widdershins, to give the advantage to a swordsman defending the upper floor) ended on the upper gallery of the great hall. Otto looked down on the fishermen and their guards, as they hastily strung their close-woven net across the floor at ankle height. Spikes, hammered heedlessly into the wooden paneling, provided support for the mesh of ropes. The carpenters were busy assembling crude runways on trestles above the netting, so that the guards could move between rooms without touching the floor. At the far end, near the western door that opened onto the grand staircase, there was a carefully planned open area: a killing ground for the witches who would be unable to enter from any other direction.

Sir Geraunt, the royal courier, was standing directly below him, looking around in obvious puzzlement. "Sir Geraunt!" Otto boomed over the balcony: "Will you join me up here directly?"

A pale face turned up towards him in surprise. "Sir, I would be delighted to do so, but this cat's cradle your artisans are weaving is in my way. If you would permit me to cut the knot-"

"No sir, you may not. But if you proceed through the door to your left, you will find the stairway accessible- for now."

A minute later Sir Geraunt emerged onto the balcony, shaking his head. A couple of weavers also emerged, lugging a roll of netting between them, but Otto sent them a wave of dismissal. "We are in less danger from the witches the higher we go, but the balcony must be netted in due course," he explained, for the younger man was still staring at the work in the room below with an expression of profound bafflement.

"My lord, I fail to understand what you are doing here. Is it some ritual?"

"In a way," Otto said easily. He walked to the edge of the balcony, and pointed down. "What do you see there?"

"A mess- " Sir Geraunt visibly forced himself to focus. "Nets strung across the floor, and walkways for your men. The witches appear from the land of shadows, do they not? Is this some kind of snare?"

"Yes." Otto nodded. It wouldn't do to let the witches retake the castle too easily-his majesty's little plan wasn't the kind of trick you could play twice. "Observe the open area, and the position of the guards-who are free to move where they will. I am informed by an unimpeachable source that the witches cannot arrive inside another object: that is, they may be able to appear within the building, but if the exact spot they desire to occupy is filled by a piece of furniture or a tree or another body, they are blocked. The netting is close enough to prevent them arriving anywhere on the covered floor. Thus, if they wish to pay us a visit, they must do so on the ground I leave to them. Where, you will note, my soldiers are awaiting them."

Sir Geraunt's eyes widened. "Truly, his majesty chose wisely in placing his faith in you!"

"Perhaps. We'll see when the foe arrive. That was why I called for you, as a matter of fact: the witches have unforeseen resources. A most peculiar carriage just over-

flew us, carrying a man who is now, without a doubt, hastening to their headquarters with word of our presence. I had counted on having an entire day to prepare the defenses here, and the surprise outside. To make matters worse, my guards fired on the intruder-and missed. His majesty is still a day away. I therefore expect the witches to attack within a matter of hours."

The knight's reaction was predictable: "I stand before you. What can I do on your behalf?"

Otto managed to produce a thin smile. "I expect to kill a fair number of witches, but they have better guns than my men, and probably other surprises beside. So I am moving things forward. A reinforced company will stay here to take the first attack. The survivors will fall back through the tunnel to the river. Hopefully the resistance will force them to concentrate in the castle, but our witch-guns on the curtain walls, pointing inwards, will bottle them up for long enough to execute his majesty's plan..."

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