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More bows lifted in solidarity. ‘Until the end!’ came the echo.
Wilder heard Thea’s voice chime through the rest. ‘Until the end!’
And with that, he nocked an arrow to his bow, turning back to the waiting enemy. ‘Archers!’ he shouted. ‘Nock!’
He heard the flurry of movement all around as fletching brushed quivers, as arrows tapped against timber and were fitted to strings.
‘Draw!’ he ordered, pulling his own string back and taking aim.
Again he heard his command being heeded.
‘Loose!’ he cried.
A hundred arrows rained down on the frontline of the enemy. Many fell to the ground before they’d even had the chance to raise their shields.
‘Again!’ Wilder called. ‘Nock —’
An ear-splitting shriek sounded from above and Wilder whirled around, his arrow still drawn. He shot it into the first wraith he saw flapping overhead. It lurched in the sky, his arrow protruding from its leg.
‘Archers! To the wraiths!’ Wilder shouted, already unloading a second and third arrow into his target, surging for it as it fell, unsheathing his sword, ready to claim its heart.
Thea was already there, slicing through its chest and tearing the black organ from the cavity.
Another wraith fell from above, then another, brought down by the Guardian archers, Wilder and Thea making quick work of carving through flesh and bone. The men cheered as they did, but Wilder knew it was only the beginning —
‘Ladders!’ sounded Torj’s voice from nearby. ‘Stop the ladders!’
The walls were madness as Wilder’s unit scrambled to push the ladders from the castle. Men who had once seemed squeamish at the idea of boiling water and oil were readily throwing buckets over the side, their bodies sagging with relief when they heard the screams of agony from the other side.
‘Archers! Hold the line!’ Torj called, while Wilder cut an enemy soldier in two, the torso toppling back over the parapet.
Scanning the wall, he saw that several more ladders had found purchase, and that a number of attackers had breached their defences already.
Too soon, Wilder thought. It was too soon for breaches to be happening. He signalled to Torj to man his archers as well, before spearing another wraith from the sky and ending it.
There was no sign of King Leiko’s missing army unit, nor was there any sign of therheguld reapers. The realisation made Wilder’s stomach churn. They were holding back… but why?
‘Ready the catapults!’ he commanded, glimpsing Thea bringing down another winged monster, her light armour already smeared with black and red blood. It looked good on her.
The Guardians of Thezmarr rallied to his call, the catapults groaning as they were loaded with stones and balls of oil-soaked twine.
‘Fire!’ Wilder yelled.
Projectiles soared over the ramparts and barrelled towards the enemy. Their lines broke upon impact, bodies and earth flying.
‘Again!’ Wilder shoved a struggling trio of men aside to load a weapon himself, his Furies-given strength assisting him. ‘Fire!’ He loosed the mechanism and the catapult sent a boulder straight into the frontlines again. But the enemy were quick to reclaim their formations.
Wilder assessed their own units. The Guardians of Thezmarr stood strong, deploying efficient attacks in unified waves. The soldiers from the royal forces, however, were chaotic in their fear. King Artos’ empath magic had worn off and now they wore glazed expressions of shock.
‘The ladders!’ Wilder surged for one that had hit the wall, enemies spilling over the top, brandishing their swords.
Wilder kicked the ladder from the edge, sending it careening back into the battlefield, crushing a line of soldiers beneath with a crash. But it had been one ladder out of many, and the enemy was on the wall. Guardians and royal soldiers alike engaged, the width of the wall crammed with whirling blades and cries of pain, bodies already strewn across the stone floor.
Wilder cleaved through enemy after enemy, all the while scanning the skies for more wraiths, and reapers —
A booming crack sounded from below.
Wilder surged to the edge of the wall, looking over to see a unit of enemy soldiers heaving a battering ram back, preparing for another blow to the castle gates.
