Ian was already at the far wheel. “The moment someone comes in that door, we take the ladder down to the courtyard.” He pointed toward an open hatch in the floor.
Robin nodded. She ran to the opposite cog and wrapped her good arm around the upper spoke, bracing her feet against the stone floor.
“Ready?” Ian asked.
“Yes.”
They pushed.
The chains creaked as they drew taut against the counterweights, and the wheel resisted. Robin threw her weight forward, her boots scraping against the stone. The cog did not move.
She gritted her teeth and pushed harder. Beside her, Ian grunted with effort, his arms shaking as he strained against the wheel.
For several long, horrible seconds, nothing happened.
Then, with an ear-splitting screech, the mechanism began to turn. The chains wound slowly around the trunk, link by link, and the deep, shuddering moan of metal hinges echoed from below as the massive wooden gates began to pull apart.
Robin could hear the immediate reaction from outside—shouts of confusion and alarm from the walkway, followed by Zimri’s voice cutting through everything else.
“The gate!” he bellowed. “I did not give the order. Close the gate!”
Robin kept pushing. The cog continued to turn. Robin let out a cry through her clenched teeth, pouring her remainingstrength into the push. The chain links clicked past, one after another, and below her she could hear the heavy groan of the gate swinging open.
The door behind her opened, slamming into the unconscious soldier on the ground. “What?!” shouted a confused voice. “General!”
“Now!” Ian yelled.
Robin dropped the wheel, running to the hatch as the soldiers behind the door shouldered it open.
Ian slammed a lever into place to prevent the cog wheel from unwinding in the other direction, then ran toward her.
Robin leapt off the ladder to give Ian room to get through the hatch.
She landed heavily on the ground below, rolling back to catch her fall. When she stood, she was standing in the half-opened gate of the castle, with Sol and his army at her back.
Chapter 57
Ian’s boots hit the cobbled courtyard hard. His knees buckled from the impact, and he caught himself with one hand against the cold stone of the gatehouse.
Above him, the hatch was still open. Shouts echoed from inside the tower as soldiers forced their way past the barricaded door.
He only had seconds before they closed the gate again.
Pushing himself off the stone wall with one hand, he pulled his helmet off with the other. He was leading this charge as Ian Sirilian, and he needed every man in the courtyard to see his face.
As the cool air brushed across his sweat-soaked forehead, he took in the courtyard.
Sol’s army, small as they were, pressed forward around him. “Find a way to hold the gate open,” Ian yelled to Ulli and Liam, who were leading the charge. Aizel was right behind them.
The front line of Iseldan soldiers had recovered from their shock. Two of them were already engaging Robin.
She fought with only her dagger, her injured arm pressed tight against her body. She was holding her own, but barely. Sheducked under one man’s swing and drove her elbow into his ribs, but the second soldier was already closing the distance, his sword raised.
Ian crossed the space in two strides and brought his sword up to catch the descending blade before it reached her. The impact of it rang through his arms and the soldier stumbled sideways, startled less by the blow than by the face behind it.
“My prince—” the soldier stammered.
“Stand down,” Ian commanded, his voice sounding like his father’s. “The gate is open by my order.”
