As it turned out, he wouldn’t have a chance to hunt that morning. Instead, Hornbeck had pulled him aside after the morning’s training. The commander wore a serious expression, his soft blue eyes pulled taut in concern.

“Some of my boys on the night duty were injured yesterday. I hate to ask this of you, particularly as you’re new and a part-timer, but I was hoping that you might fill in for them?”

Florian looked at the older man with shock. “Me?”

“Yeah. I know it’s sudden, but I saw what you did to those wolves the other day; that magic of yours could help a lot of people on the wall. I’ll let you keep whatever meat you earn, and I’ll see to it that you’re equipped in full armor, same as the rest of us. So? What do you say?”

A part of him – a large part of him – didn’t want to take up that burden. But as he thought about it, his teaching gig didn’t start until just after noon and he could get enough sleep. The armor was a very good offer, and while it probably felt like wearing what amounted to an oven at noon, it offered tremendous security. The last thing he needed was another limb to be severed from his body. And while the armor was a huge draw, the promise of Hellwolf meat was even greater. The nights were when the monsters were most active, and he’d make a small fortune. “I’m in. Tonight, then?”

The tension in Hornbeck’s face eased just the tiniest bit, and the commander stuck his hand out and shook Florian’s hand. “Thank you, son. Meet me before sunset so that we can get you your armor, and then I’ll explain some ground rules.

And that was how Florian had been taken from a strange new wizard-in-training and shoved into one of the most undesirable positions at Leeds Castle. The armor he now wore, however, felt sturdy beyond his wildest imagination. It was equipped with the same solid breastplate, the bracers he wore protecting both his arms. His leg, too, was similarly encased in metal. Hornbeck offered Florian a helmet.

He tried putting it on but found that it was constrictive and more liable to give him a headache than protect it. With magic considered, he needed to be able to think without any unnecessary distractions, of which the helmet was one of them. Florian declined the helmet, moving to follow Hornbeck as the other man climbed the stairs to the wall facing the only connection the castle had to land.

At the top, Hornbeck turned around and held his hand out over the gradually darkening environment around the castle. “The actual job description isn’t much different than what you’ve been doing. What did change, is the frequency of the attacks. You won’t be called to go down to face the monsters on ground level. No, your only job is to stop the odd Hellwolf that manages to find their way up the wall.”

“Does that happen frequently?”

“Frequently enough.”

Florian understood his role and began to pace around the wall with all the Warriors he had not seen up until this moment. Dozens of them stood atop the wall, and while most of them looked battle-ready, a few showed their exhaustion in the way they held themselves.

The wolves howled. Florian swung his eyes over the terrain around them, seeing a mass of black advance towards them. “What in the world is that?” he muttered to himself, taking an involuntary step backwards and nearly tumbling off the wall. Hornbeck walked up next to him.

“That’s what we face, night in, night out. Ready your mace. You’ll be needing it a lot over the next eight hours.” Hornbeck said, his own spear standing at the ready. Florian nodded, putting a hand over the mace that was attached to his belt.

The scratching of the wooden gate was the first sound that made it to Florian’s ears, apart from the howls and the thunder of hundreds of paws pound the dirt at once. This sound, more than any of the others, was terrifying. It indicated exactly where and what they wanted, and to what lengths they’d go to get them. Florian watched his fellow Warriors, none of them reacting to the assault.

No, it wasn’t until the first black shape flew onto the wall that people began to move. The person nearest the wolf, a shorter man utilizing a longsword, struck the beast underneath its mouth, causing it to open its maw. In that split second of vulnerability, the soldier struck, his longsword killing the Hellwolf where it stood. And then the next shape appeared. And the next, and the next, and the next. All around the wall, fights had begun.

The scene was barely illuminated by the faint moonlight, but the ribbons of blood that spilled out from Hellwolf and person alike was unlike anything he had ever seen. This, this was war. Florian joined the fray, releasing Bludgeon from its place at his side. Instead, Florian carved a path through the monsters with the weapon in his hands, imbued with a faint blue light that shone brightly in the middle of the darkness.

Serving as a beacon to everyone, the fighting soon became thickest around Florian, whose hands never once stopped, moving from one direction to the other in order to protect himself. It was fairly standard procedure, even when three of the maybe dozen tried to encircle him. That, Florian could handle. But only when a Hellwolf leapt straight for him did Florian understand exactly the chaos of what these men and women went through every night.

Florian imagined the air around him begin to move, seeing the new wind become a blade that would tear through his newest assailant. The thought was difficult to maintain, but his timing had been perfect; neither of the other three decided to strike the moment when it had been too late. Instead, the wind split their newest comrade in twain.

“Want some more?” Florian asked, adopting some kind of battle stance with his feet wide apart. “Come get some.”

Oh it felt good to say that, Florian thought to himself. The wolves felt a little less good about it and tried to flee their enemy. Into the mass of wolves and men they ran, but Florian kept a tight pursuit, his mace sending the odd wolf to their grave as he passed.

But at the end of the wall, the wolves didn’t turn and fight him, but instead they jumped and landed behind the rippling mass attacking the castle. Florian watched them as they sailed into the night sky, mourning the loss of ingredients. The attack continued to proceed from just the one side, making things far easier on the commanders. But that was the only mercy they received, and hours of fighting later made Florian confident that he had wiped out over thirty by his own hand.

When the sun peeked its head over the horizon, its warm rays melted the coldness that had seemed to freeze over the Warriors. Eyelids heavy, Florian had barely time to find his cot and collapse. As his eyes finally closed, he realized that he’d have a lot of cleaning to do that night as the black blood of the Hellwolves smeared all over his blanket. And then he fell asleep.