Tog watched as the Bodden foot swarmed about in front of the south gate. "Something is wrong."
"The gate must be down," said Aubrey. "There"s an iron gate, called a portcullis, that keeps people out."
"How does it work?" asked the Troll.
"There"ll be a room above, in the gatehouse, with a winch; a sort of drum that has a chain curled around it."
"Can it be raised?" he asked.
"It"s likely very heavy," she answered, "and only the winch would work."
"Not too heavy for Trolls," he said, then turned to his people, issuing commands in their own tongue.
Aubrey watched as they began moving north. "Wait, I"m coming with you!” she hollered. "You may need me." She ran to catch up.
Across the field they went, their long legs carrying them swiftly. Crossbow bolts started flying at them from the
