Chapter 12:

“Target the horses!”

“Fire!”

Arrows sailed forth from the walls of Greendale. Arcing through the air, the shots fell onto the advancing escalades and their escorts, most embedding themselves into the wood of the frames and the dirt all around, while some stuck themselves into the armour of the soldiers.

Clad in metal armour, most of the troops survived the surprise volley with an arrow or two stuck in the plates of their armour. A few unlucky soldiers took an arrow to unprotected flesh, causing them to fall to the ground, grasping their wounds in pain.

Cries of surprise came from the troops.

“Shit! They're on the walls again!”

“Shields up!”

“Archers return fire!”

The movement of the siege engines greatly slowed, as the troops shifted into more defensive postures, tightening their formations.

At the head of the leftmost group, Knight Oxford deflected a crossbow bolt, swatting it to the side with his silver coated aura.

We can’t stay here or we’re all gonna die.

“Damnit, return fire! Speed up the advance! We need to reach the walls before they kill all of us!”

At the front of the various other groups, the other Knights came to the same conclusion, urging their forces to speed up as they acted as the defensive bulwarks of their formations, weapons glowing silver as they knocked projectiles out of the sky.

Raising their bows, the archers loosed a return volley, peppering the walls with arrows of their own. While most never made it past the crenellations, one or two made it through the gaps, sending the defenders scrambling under cover.

At the rear of the battlefield, Vincent, surrounded by his personal guard and flanked by Blake, watched in horror as the battle erupted. Watching as an enemy archer claimed the life of an infantry soldier, the slain soldier falling to his knees clutching his throat as an arrow protruded from it.

“They need to speed up. Rush the wall before more die.”

“Blake, send a mess-”

Just as he turned to Blake to pass his orders, he saw the Knights ignite their aura, charging forward as their men surged forward, urging the horses pulling the escalades to speed up as the men broke out into a run.

Watching the battle rage like it came straight out of a documentary from his past life, Vincent’s jaw dropped.

Atop the wall, Riley watched as the enemy Knights charged, rapidly reloading his crossbow as arrows rained down all around him. Now that the archers were much nearer to the wall, their shots were increasing in accuracy and power, giving the defenders much more trouble as arrows slammed against shields or tore straight through them, killing the men behind them.

Spinning out from the cover he had hunkered down behind, he aligned the crossbow with the figure of an oncoming Knight, dual swords whirling as they weaved an impenetrable defence, swatting every oncoming projectile harmlessly to the side, preventing them from hitting their mounts or any of the cart-pulling horses.

Pulling the trigger, the bolt sprung forward, riding the winds as it arced towards the oncoming Knight. Just as the bolt left the crossbow, Riley ducked back behind cover, barely avoiding the incoming arrow which struck ineffectively against the floor.

Turning to look at the men around him, he realised that out of the 20-odd men he had brought up the walls, only around 15 of them were left, their unfortunate companions lying dead or dying along the walkway, arrows protruding from their corpses.

“Damnit! Melvin, where are you!”

“Sir, Melvin's dead!”

“Shit! Luke!”

“Yes Sir!”

Calling over a nearby soldier, Riley quickly yelled out his orders, instructing the man to crawl over to the edge of the wall and descend the ladder to ask for help from Sir Terry.

Watching the soldier crawl away, keeping his head down and praying for him not to get shot on the way, Riley once again poked his head out over the walls, searching for an opening to slip a bolt in.

Immediately, his face paled. The enemy had almost reached the wall. The Knights leading the forces were a mere 10 metres away from the base of the 7 metre tall wall, with their troops right on their heels, wheeling their cloth covered contraptions along. The archers had paused somewhere along the halfway mark, defended by a couple of shield-bearing infantry, intercepting most of the defenders fire.

Turning to his men, he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Incoming infantry!”

Immediately, the troops visibly tensed, shifting in their armour as a sense of dread overcame them. Looking at the expressions of fear on their faces, Riley sighed. It was understandable for the mere Copper- and Iron-ranked defenders to feel fear, after all, they were up against at least 3 Silver-rank, metal-clad Knights and almost a hundred better-equipped men, all at equal or better spiritforce ranks than them.

The defenders were outmatched, outgunned and outclassed. Not even the greatest fool to ever live would believe they had a snowflake's chance in hell of emerging victorious from the fight.

But we have no choice. We provoked them by killing their men at our gates. We have to protect our families. Our wives. Our children. The viscount cannot be allowed to plunder our households without resistance.

Even now, Riley still believed in Terry's words, holding on to the belief that he was protecting the town and his family. The squad captain had grown up in Greendale and had lived there all his life, causing him to have a strong sense of belonging to the town. When Terry had made his speech, bearing evidence and extolling the townsfolk to rise up against the greedy Viscount, he had wholeheartedly fallen in behind the merchant without even a shred of doubt.

Just as his thoughts flashed to his family, currently gathered at the town square after the evacuation of the outer district of the town, a soldier positioned on his left shouted out.

“Wha… what in the old gods is that!”

Peering out from between the crenellations, Riley stared in shock as the soldiers escorting the contraptions pulled the cloth right off.

Laid before his eyes were a bizarre wooden structure like he had never seen before.

What the-

Riley hadn't even registered what his eyes were seeing as the dual-wielding Knight swiped their sword, a silver blur flashing through the air, severing a rope at the back of the contraption.

In an instant, the upper portion of the structure snapped forward, pivoting on a hinge as it rose and fell, lodging itself firmly against the top of the walls.

As another two similar scenes played out up and down the wall, Riley panicked, forgetting to give orders to his men.

By the time he calmed himself down, infantrymen were already midway up the ladder, swords drawn and at the ready.

“Switch to pikes! Repel the warriors and kick down their ladders! FOR THE TOWN!”

In an attempt to raise their waning morale, Riley thrust his pike into the air, crossbow lying forgotten by the side as Low-Iron ranked spiritforce circulated within the weapon, enhancing its durability beyond that of the steel it was made of.

“FOR THE TOWN!”

Grabbing their pikes, the men of the Garrison rushed to the edge of the walls, remaining shields held at the ready.

“Haa!”

Infusing spiritforce into his legs, Riley delivered a solid kick to the ladder nearest to him, expecting it to fall backwards.

Thud

With a dull sound, his boot merely shook the ladder by the slightest amount.

What?

Before he could process his failed attempt, the first enemy emerged from the ladder, jumping onto the walkway, sword swinging wildly as the defenders backed away.

Deflecting a thrust from a pike with his blade, the warrior raised his shield to intercept another pike thrust while stepping forward, making room for the next man up the ladder.

With a swing of his sword, the pikes of two of the defenders were swept aside, leaving them off balance.

Lunging forward, Riley blocked the blade aiming for the vulnerable pikemen, locking the blade of the sword down with his pike, meeting the eyes of it’s owner.

High-Copper rank. Experienced with a steady gaze despite being outnumbered at the moment.

Shing!

Caught off guard, Riley raised his buckler above his head, saving it from being lopped off in the nick of time.

The second man had ascended the wall. Falling back and releasing the first man's sword, he allowed his men to step in, threatening the men with their superior reach as he assessed the battle.

At the other two sites, his men were fighting a losing battle, heavily disadvantaged despite their temporary numerical superiority. On his left, the 7-odd men were suppressed by 3 enemy soldiers, while on his right 2 men of the 7 men lay dead, bleeding out from sword wounds, while the survivors struggled against the 4 enemies present.

We’re doomed. 20 vs 75 are already bad odds. Add in superior gear and training, we never had a chance.

Just as he was temporarily distracted, the lead enemy soldier thrust forward, shattering the pike of a defender as the tip of his blade found his heart.

Shit!

As the man collapsed , dark red blood forming a puddle on the walkway Riley snapled back to reality, quickly stepping in and cutting off any chance for the enemy to capitalise on the unexpected hole in their formation.

F*ck!

The third and fourth men had come. Climbing over the parapet, they battered the surrounding formation of pikemen with their attacks, causing the defenders to come to the bring of collapse.

Just Riley felt all hope was lost, he heard a shout from behind him.

“Captain! I brought more men!”

Clambering up the ladder, Luke joined the battle at the head of 70 men, most of which Riley recognised as non-combatants. They held whatever weapons they could find, knives and pitchforks, as they split off the help the beleaguered right flank.

Finally! Maybe we can pull through this!

Accompanied by the 15 veterans that had been sent to man the ambush point, Luke swept over, joining Riley in striking at the invaders.

“Sir! I brought all the willing men!”

“Where’s Sir Terry!”

Searching the battlefield, Riley saw no sign of the merchant.

“I couldn’t find him Sir!”

“WHAT!”

Worried but without the time to dwell on it, Riley swept the thoughts clouding his mind to the back of his head, focusing on the fight.

Finally, after the reinforcements, the situation of the defenders improved. With a stab, Riley pierced the side of the second soldier , watching his eyes bulge as he registered the pain from the wound.

With a metallic crash, the soldier fell to the ground as his comrades watched in horror, falling from the walls back down to the ground where he had came from.

Yes!

Riding off the high of slaying one of the enemies, Riley fought with renewed vigour, tightening the circle around the ladder and preventing any additional troops from coming up and joining the fight.

If we can pick them off, maybe we stand a fighting chance-

No sooner did his thought roll through his mind, did Riley’s face pale, turning sheet white as his eyes widened in horror.

On his right, a silver-covered blade tore through the defenders, causing blood to splatter everywhere as the bisected bodies of three men split apart, falling in separate halves on the ground as their intestines and organs spilled out of his broken bodies.

Wading through the corpses, a metal clad figure crushed the organs as he walked, silver blade swinging wildly as he claimed the life of defender after defender.

A Silver-ranked Knight

“Retrea-“

Just as he sounded the retreat, his face became covered in a fine red mist.

Turning in shock, he saw as Luke's head fell from his shoulders, the open pipes of his esophagus and trachea exposed to air as blood spurted from his decapitated head.

Shit

Stepping onto the walkway, the slender dual-wielding Knight, a female, Riley realised, unsheathed her second sword.

Feeling death looming over him, he stared into the visors of the Knights helmet as she swung her swords, performing a deadly dance as silver blade trails crisscrossed the air, painting a cold, beautiful masterpiece as the blood of the slain filled the floor.

In a matter of seconds, the group of defenders, once over 15 men strong, was reduced to just Riley alone, standing with a shattered pike and a sword at his throat. Around him, rivers of blood flowed as dismembered body parts littered the ground.

F*ck

Eyes filled with despair, he asked the female Knight.

“Is… is it true? You're only here for the merchants?”

With an almost imperceptible nod, the Knight confirmed his suspicions. Suddenly, every fell into place.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA” Bursting out into maniacal laughter tinged with a hint of hopelessness and self-loathing, Riley felt tears well up in his eyes.

So we were used. Used as pawns to delay the viscount and advance that bastards plan. So many men died, and now I will too.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Riley saw the large, longsword wielding Knight step over the corpses of the defenders, armour covered in blood that had sprayed from the defenders bodies, looking like a demon from hell. On the other side, a noble, aristocratic Knight swung a greatsword with uncharacteristic ease, cutting down the last of the defenders as his men poured in after him. Beneath the walls, he watched as a burly, fiery-haired Knight burst through the gates, stampeding down the main street.

Turning back to the female Knight before him, he bowed his head in defeat.

Beneath the visor, her black eyes softened, feeling a sense of compassion for the man, she asked him.

“Do you wish to be spared? I have no desire to kill a defeated enemy manipulated by an evil trickster.”

Staring into her eyes, Riley dropped his useless pike, using his feet to kick a pike from a fallen man into his hands. Lowering his stance and holding his shield in front of him, he growled at his opponent.

“I can’t. I can’t face the families of the men I led to their deaths. How can I return safely to my family while their husbands, brothers and fathers lay dead?”

“Give me an honorable death.”

Before his opponent could open her mouth to protest, he lunged forward, aiming for the gap between her left pauldron and rerebrace. Reacting instinctively, Sharon pushed her spiritforce to its limits, causing her blade aura to glow resplendently as she swiped at the incoming weapon.

Clang!

The two weapons locked, straining at each other. As the blade of Sharon's sword and Riley pike shaft pushed against each other, cracks grew along the shaft of the pike.

“Hiya!”

As his arm muscles bludged, Riley pushed his pike forward. With a sharp crack! sound, the shaft split into two, the head flying off as the remaining shaft thumped harmlessly against Sharon's armour.

Bringing up her second sword, Sharon slashed at Riley’s shield, breaking it in half, as wooden fragments and metal shards scattered all along the path. As Riley winced, arm turning numb, another blade pressed against his neck.

Kicking his legs out from under him, Sharon knelt on his chest, sword held at his throat.

“You are now a prisoner of Viscount Sutton. You will be taken under custody according to the Kingdom’s laws.”

Closing his eyes in acceptance, Riley let out a sigh. He had no way to kill himself even if he wanted to. The weight of the armoured Knight above him prevented him from lifting himself off the ground and if he tried to raise his head to stab himself on her sword, Sharon would quickie retract the blade, Silver spiritforce boosting her reaction time and reflexes.

Watching as the remaining men of House Sutton scaled the walls, two of the armoured infantrymen using rope to bind him, tears fell from his eyes, tears for his men and their families, tears of joy at being alive and tears of rage at the despicable merchant who had deceived his men, costing them their lives.

-----

Atop a nearby hill, Vincent watched as the last man reached the top of the walls, hoisting the flag of House Sutton atop the gate.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned to Blake, who had stood at his side for the duration of his battle.

“We did it, Milord.”

Surrounded by the personal guard, Blake maintained his formal form of address, s small smile on his face at the low amount of casualties taken in the battle.

“Indeed. But we still took unnecessary casualties.”

“Milord, but the results are stellar compared to a regular siege or charge.”

“I know. But after we return to the estate, there are some changes I wish to make to our forces.”

Thinking of the wonderful escalades that Vincent had brought forth, Blake agreed with his Lord, anticipating what other surprises his Lord had in store.

Snapping the reins, Vincent began riding towards Greendale.

“Let's go and see what the merchants have left us.”