Chapter 84 — The First Volley

Chapter 84: Chapter 84 — The First Volley

Chapter 84 — The First Volley

The shaman heard the human engine before he saw its bolt.

The heavy string cracked above the wind and shouting, and a Gruk in the first line disappeared backward as the bolt passed through his shield and chest, struck the Orc behind him, and buried itself in the frozen road.

The advance opened around the bodies and closed again.

The dead Gruks had marched beside the others for six days, and nobody stopped for them now; the front line lifted its shields and kept moving, because the Uraks watched from behind.

The shaman felt fear pass through the weaker warriors and struck the ground with his staff, releasing the second part of his spell; the bone charms rattled without wind.

The Gruks saw the walls, but the shaman’s spell drove them forward.

The shaman fed Mana into the smoking bundle in his hands, and grey coils thickened across the road. Human arrows entered the smoke and vanished: some struck shields, others landed in snow.

The Gruks roared and continued forward.

The larger Urak walked behind them without raising his shield.

"Their engine has fired," the shaman said.

"Then it is empty."

"It may fire again."

"Then reach the wall before it does."

The order passed through the Throks, and the front ranks ran faster.

At Dragonwatch, Adam waited until the smoke thinned around the nearest shapes.

"Front left," he called. "Red shield."

Five crossbows fired together.

The Orc carrying the red shield twisted when one bolt struck his thigh, and a second entered his neck above the shield rim; he fell beneath the feet of those behind him.

Ordinary bows followed. The range was poor and the smoke ruined careful aim, but the Orcs were crowded on the road, and shafts struck arms, shoulders, and shields.

Walter watched the distance markers.

"Hold spears."

Several soldiers had already drawn their throwing arms back.

"Hold."

The smoke shifted.

For one moment, Christopher saw the whole northern force: more than forty Gruks pushed along the road, four larger Orcs moved among them with stronger armor and disciplined strides, and behind them walked two Uraks and a shaman covered in bone charms.

The second arbalest shot came from the western wall.

Its only battle bolt struck the smaller attack group at an angle, punching through one Gruk and shattering the shield of another before tumbling into the broken ground.

The western Orcs slowed.

Ivo’s archers fired into them from above, and stones followed from militia hands; the western approach forced the attackers through rubble and a narrow cleared path, so they could not reach the wall together.

At the main gate, the first Gruks entered spear range.

"Now," Walter ordered.

The front soldiers threw.

Twenty spears fell into the road. Several struck shields, one glanced from an iron cap, and five Gruks went down while two more staggered with shafts buried in their bodies.

The soldiers stepped back to receive fresh spears from the militia.

One man fumbled the shaft passed to him, and it struck the stones and rolled beneath the feet of the second rank.

The soldier beside him pushed another spear into his hand.

"Hold it."

The frightened man held it.

Behind them, the supply runners climbed and descended without stopping: Daniel carried water to the gate crew, Holden brought bolts from the lower store, and Cole froze when the first wounded soldier came down with an arrow in his shoulder.

Oswin pushed a bundle into his arms. "Take these to Adam."

Cole flinched at the blood.

"Adam needs the bolts."

Cole moved. On the next trip, he kept his eyes on the stairs.

Christopher saw the exchange from the gate tower: the line had bent but had not opened, and Walter’s weeks of drills mattered more now than any speech Christopher could give.

The Orcs answered with axes, javelins, and short bows. A javelin struck the stone below Christopher, and another passed over the wall and landed in the yard.

One soldier cried out when an arrow entered the gap above his shield, and Mabel’s helpers dragged him toward the stairs.

The shaman raised both hands.

Smoke climbed the wall.

It entered eyes and mouths, and men coughed; the arbalest crew lost sight of the road while winding the second shot.

Christopher felt Mana inside the smoke, drew on his own power, and cut through the nearest coil with a sweep of his sword; the smoke divided, then closed again.

"Water," Godfrey said.

Militia poured buckets across cloth, and soldiers wrapped the wet strips over their mouths and noses. The wet cloth eased their breathing, though the spell still clouded their sight.

Christopher scanned for the shaman, who remained behind two shield bearers, moving his hands while smoke poured from a bundle tied to a staff.

"Can the arbalest reach him?"

Wat looked through the shifting grey. "If he stands still."

The shaman kept moving.

Walter ordered the crossbows to fire at the shield bearers. One bolt struck wood, another entered an Orc’s exposed arm, and the shaman stepped behind a different pair.

The first Gruks reached the ditch beneath the wall.

They filled the shallowest part of the ditch with brush, then pushed timber over it as they advanced.

The defenders dropped stones — one Gruk fell with his skull broken, and another climbed over him.

Hooks reached over the wall, and soldiers caught shield rims, arms, and spear shafts. One Gruk was pulled from the ditch and struck the stone face before falling; another held the hook, dragged its wielder against the battlement, and nearly pulled him over.

Bram caught the soldier’s belt with one hand.

Thomas and another apprentice drove the hook free while Bram placed the soldier back on his feet and returned to his position.

"Thank him later," Thomas said. "Watch the wall."

The soldier raised his shield again.

The four Throks entered the front.

Their Aura pushed against the ordinary soldiers above. A Throk caught a falling stone on his shield and threw it aside, while another leapt from the packed ditch, caught the edge of the wall with both hands, and began pulling himself up.

Godfrey moved.

His sword cut through two of the Orc’s fingers, and the Throk fell into the ditch. Walter drove a spear down, but the point struck the Orc’s shoulder instead of his throat, and the wounded Throk rolled beneath the bodies and disappeared from view.

The remaining Throks spread along the wall.

Behind them, the two Uraks finally began to run.

They moved faster than horses over the broken approach, and Gruks shifted aside rather than risk being struck from behind; the first Urak used a fallen body as a step, crossed the packed ditch, and reached the base of the wall in three strides.

The second followed several paces to the west.

Godfrey felt their Aura rise.

The pressure reached the ordinary defenders before the Uraks jumped: one militia fighter lowered his spear and stared at the road, and another stepped backward into a loader.

Walter struck the stone with the butt of his spear. "Eyes on your section. They still have to cross the wall."

The men raised their weapons again.

"Clear the battlement around me," he ordered.

The nearest soldiers withdrew toward their marked positions, not knowing whether the Uraks could clear the wall until the first one bent his legs.

The shaman lowered his smoking staff.

His spell had found five ranked defenders, and four had now shown themselves on the northern wall.

The larger Urak smiled.

The humans had placed everything where he could reach it.

The first Urak cleared the battlement without touching the stone.

He landed among the northern defenders with enough force to crack frost from the walkway, his axe striking before the nearest soldier recovered; the man’s shield split, and the blade continued into his chest.

The second soldier lowered his spear.

The Urak caught the shaft, pulled him forward and threw him from the wall.

Harris struck the inner yard shoulder first. Men below moved toward him, but one look stopped them from wasting time carrying him to the infirmary.

Arnold remained behind the split shield and tried to lift it again, but the Urak’s returning axe entered above the rim and ended the attempt.

Shouts spread along the wall as the Urak advanced.

Below the battlement, the reserve heard the impacts without seeing them, and several soldiers turned toward the stairs, but Alfred kept his shield raised.

"Your place is here until Walter calls you."

The men remained in line. Bram stood behind the center with his warhammer, looking upward once before fixing his eyes on the gate.

Godfrey reached the battlement before a third man died.

His sword met the axe, and Aura struck the men around them like a hard wind; soldiers stumbled away, opening space without being ordered.

The second Urak landed farther west.

Walter turned toward him, but the distance was too great. Christopher was closer.

He drew his father’s sword and met the first attack with both hands.

The Urak’s blade struck hard enough to numb his arms. Bronze Essence kept the sword in his grip, but his boots slid across the icy stone.

The Orc attacked again.

Christopher moved aside instead of blocking, and the axe cut the top from the wall shield behind him.

He struck the Urak’s exposed side, his blade cutting fur and scraping across iron plates without entering flesh.

The Urak turned with frightening speed.

Christopher raised his sword, but the next blow would have broken through his guard.

Walter’s spear struck the axe haft and drove it off line.

"Back," Walter ordered.

Christopher complied. He moved behind Walter as Ivo arrived from the western stairs.

The western attack had failed to cross the rubble, so Ivo left soldiers holding it and joined Walter against the Urak.

The two Bronze Knights wore the magical armor from the Knight castle, its dark plates showing no crest, only old marks from storage and repair.

The Urak saw the armor and laughed, mistaking fine equipment for fear.

Walter attacked first, his spear driving toward the throat, but the Urak turned it with the axe and punched him in the chest.

The magical breastplate rang. Walter left the ground and struck the inner side of the battlement, but the plate held.

Ivo cut behind the Urak’s knee, the blade entering leather and drawing blood before the Orc kicked him away.

Christopher called the reserve forward.

Crowding the Urak would give him easy targets. The spear line blocked both ends of the walkway while other Gruks tried to climb.

Below, the attack continued.

The Throks reached the wall in different places, and apprentices met them with spears, stones, and hooked poles. One Throk climbed high enough to place an arm over the battlement, and Bram struck it with his warhammer.

Bone broke beneath the armor. The Orc fell into the ditch.

Bram leaned over to follow.

"Hold the wall," Thomas shouted.

Bram stopped, returning to his place before another Gruk reached the stones.

The Black Iron prisoner stood behind the reserve line, and when a Gruk climbed over the edge near him, he thrust once through the Orc’s chest and pulled the spear free.

He did not run, returning to formation with the chain still dragging from one ankle.

The reserve closed around him. Walter’s order gave him a weapon and a place in the line while Orcs climbed the wall.

Near the western stair, Daniel and Ellis dragged an injured loader away from the arbalest platform, his boots striking each step, while Holden cleared the passage ahead and Oswin carried the abandoned crossbow.

Mabel pointed them toward an open pallet without leaving the soldier she was treating.

"Put him there and return for more water."

Daniel wanted to remain where the stone walls hid the fighting, but Holden was already moving back toward the stairs, and Daniel followed him.

At the main gate, two Gruks reached the doors beneath the defenders’ firing angle and struck the timber with axes; the blows damaged the outer face but did little against the bars behind it.

Militia on the tower poured stones through the murder gap. One attacker fell, and the second retreated with blood covering his shoulder.

The gate crew reloaded while Walter shouted fresh orders.

On the western platform, Wat’s crew turned their crossbows toward the northern road; the arbalest remained empty, and there was no time to wind it while Orcs pressed beneath the wall.

The shaman changed his spell.

Smoke gathered around the northern stairs and thickened until the reserve could barely see the wall above, and Christopher felt hostile Mana twist through it.

Men began hearing horns where no horns sounded. One soldier turned toward the yard, believing Orcs had entered behind them.

Another heard his dead brother calling from the road, and he stepped onto the stair before an apprentice caught his shield strap.

"That is magic," the apprentice shouted. "Your brother is not here."

The soldier stared at him, breathing through the wet cloth around his mouth. The false voice came again.

The soldier turned back to the wall.

Christopher forced Essence through his body and shouted over the false noise.

"The gate is closed. Hold your place."

The soldier faced forward again.

Adam found the shaman through a break in the smoke and fired; the bolt struck one shield bearer in the shoulder.

The shaman retreated behind the Gruks and continued the spell.

Christopher sent Nicholas with four crossbowmen to the eastern tower. From that angle, they might see past the shield line.

Godfrey and the first Urak crossed half the battlement in a series of blows too fast for the soldiers to follow: the Urak’s axe broke stone and shields, and Godfrey’s sword opened cuts along his arms and chest, though none were deep enough to end the fight.

Godfrey saw both facts in the first exchanges: the Urak moved faster, and he struck harder.

He gave ground when the axe carried full force and attacked when the Urak recovered, every step drawing the Orc farther from the wall edge and the Gruks below.

The second Urak forced Walter and Ivo backward.

Walter attempted to draw the Orc toward the narrow section beside the tower, but the Urak recognized the trap and struck the battlement instead; broken stone sprayed across the walkway, and Ivo covered his face with one arm, giving the Orc enough time to advance.

Christopher called a warning.

Walter ducked beneath the axe while Ivo struck the Urak’s knee again, cutting through the armor and deepening the wound.

The wound angered the Orc more than it hurt him.

Walter’s armor had held, but each breath came short. Ivo limped back beside him, and Christopher raised his sword as the Urak turned toward them.

Thunder’s anger surged through the bond. Christopher felt her waiting beyond the hidden gate while the Urak lifted his axe for another blow.