I remembered when I was a small child, and my father left to fight with King Camden against some rogues threatening the eastern border of Silverhelm.  I did not recall why there was an uprising, only that their numbers required more than just a handful of soldiers to quell it.  Camden had sat on his horse and moved back and forth in front of his men, speaking words of encouragement to them before they rode into battle.

I had not done that in our last war against Hadebrand.  It had not even occurred to me, like many things did not occur to me until long after it was too late for me to do anything about them.  I would likely have not known what to say, regardless.  There were so many mistakes I had made—from the insignificant to the grave—in my lust for revenge against Edgar.  I found at this point, I would give up the fight entirely if it would deliver Alexandra back to me safely.

I knew it was far too late for that.

There was only one way this could end now: in blood and destruction.  We would either be victorious, and Hadebrand would be no more, or Silverhelm would fall to Edgar, and we would all perish.

My cavalry was mounted on the horses of Sawyer, and my foot soldiers stood at the ready.  The serfs, farmers, and peasants of my kingdom gathered around the horses haphazardly, but there was no time to train them.  Even Amarra had joined us, and she paced around the horses as she readied for the hunt.  It was as if she knew Alexandra would not be safe as long as she was in the hands of my enemy.  The very thought nearly drove me to madness.

I picked up the reins from where they lay across Romero’s neck and moved in front of my men.

“Hadebrand has your queen,” I called out to them.

There were immediate cries of protest though each one of them was already privy to this information.  I took a deep breath and tried to push thoughts of Alexandra from my mind so I could speak.

“This affront to Silverhelm cannot go unpunished.  For years Edgar has sat on the court of Silverhelm and executed his will over us through threat of force, and we have been too weak to stop him.  He has placed traitors within our walls and poison in our kitchens.  Many of you are refugees from Edgar’s lands, and you know of his cruelty to his own people.”

I guided Romero back and forth in front of the army, swallowing hard before I could speak of my missing wife.

“Now he has Alexandra…your queen…my wife”—I had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing—“and the child in her belly is threatened.”

The cries lowered to angry grumblings and snarls from the men in front of me.  Again I turned Romero and paced in front of them, my voice heightening in pitch and volume.

“We move against Hadebrand now, this very day.  This is the hour of Silverhelm’s revenge.  Hadebrand will fall to us because of Edgar’s actions against your queen, and no one—no one—who fights for Hadebrand will survive.  We will not stop until every wall, every tower, every single structure in all of Hadebrand has been razed.”

I turned quickly and stared into the eyes of the men.

“Are you with me?” I screamed, and affirmative cries rose from the group.  I looked over their faces and cried out again.  “I said, ‘Are you with me?’”

Again their voices cried out but much louder this time.

“Then ride with me!”  I pulled at the reins and turned myself swiftly around.  I brought Romero to a quick trot as I hit the road.  The din of boots and hoofbeats behind me blocked out all other sound, but it could not block the thoughts from my head.

Where was she now?

What was happening to her?

Was she in pain?

Was she crying for me?

I felt sick.

The pain in my gut when her face appeared in my mind was overwhelming.  I was going to have to be diligent and judicious if I were going to be able to successfully defeat my enemy and save Alexandra from Edgar’s clutches.  I could not have the thought of her consuming me and keeping me unable to act.  I had no choice if I was to move forward, destroy Hadebrand, and bring my wife and child home safely.

I closed my mind against all feeling.

I breathed deeply, focused my eyes on the horizon, and I thought of arrows and swords and blood.  I filled my mind with the remembered sounds of blade hitting blade, the screams of those who had fallen at my hand, and the thought of Edgar’s head displayed on the end of a pike outside the broken walls of Hadebrand’s castle.

Before long the cavalry slowed to keep the horses fresh and allow those on foot to catch up.  Once they were back with us, we took up a steady trot with the peasant fighters of Silverhelm trailing behind us.  I again closed down my mind to the reason why all this was happening.  I simply could not think of it.  If I did, I could not lead.  If I could not lead, I could not save Alexandra.  I could fight, however.  That was something I could do without thought.  I needed only a weapon and strong men.

I glanced over my shoulder at those behind me and wondered how many would survive.  With the serfs at our side, our numbers would be greater than Edgar’s, but the commoners were not trained.  They did, however, have passion on their side.  I knew well that passion could turn a battle.  Still, I wondered if it would be enough, and as we traveled, I thought of the castle walls and the need to breach them as quickly as possible to get inside.

I needed more than men.

I needed machines.

The people of Wynton prided themselves on their inventions, and I could not help but think of the many items they had at their disposal that might help me to bring Alexandra back.  They were ready to be used in the previous battle against Hadebrand, but we never advanced close enough to the castle walls to employ them.  By the time we realized the war would be lost, we had hidden the weapons built by the engineers of Wynton.

Now I could only hope that Lord William would consider joining with me or at least allowing me to take the siege weapons at his disposal to help me to breach the walls of Edgar’s castle.  Battering rams were common enough and used by any army, but it was the strange catapults that could throw giant rocks to smash down stone walls that I needed.  And more specifically, I needed the men who knew how to use such equipment.

Even with the support of the peasants and serfs of Silverhelm, I had little hope of bringing down the walls of Edgar’s castle without siege equipment.  Edgar’s archers would pick off the men one by one as we tried to get through the gate with a ram or two.  We would likely break through eventually, but at what cost?  I doubted there would be sufficient men to get far enough inside to save Alexandra.

I had to get to her.

Simply put, I needed the engineers of Wynton.  If they did not join me willingly, then I would have to take them by sword.  This was my thought as we approached the outskirts of the small town and two dozen men walked out from around the main hall to stand at the side of the road, waiting for us.  I could see Lord William’s long, graying hair blowing out behind him in the breeze.

I prayed silently that they were there to offer their help.

“Lord William,” I said with a nod.  I looked across the field at the few men he had, and though I knew they would not turn the battle with their numbers, they were well-seasoned men.  I dared hope they were there to join my cause and not to hinder it.

“King Branford,” he replied.  “Stop your advance.  I must speak with you.”

My hand went instinctively to the hilt of my sword as fear gripped my heart.  I could not afford to be slowed down by the men of Wynton.  A skirmish would only reduce my numbers and give a messenger time to reach Hadebrand.  Besides, I needed them—or at least their machines—if I were to have a chance at succeeding.

Lord William raised his hands in front of him and held them palms out toward me.

“I have heard of what happened on the road to Sawyer,” he said.  “Is it true?  Did a note with Edgar’s seal admit to taking a royal child hostage?”

“He has Alexandra,” I confirmed.

“And…and she is with child still?”

I had to swallow hard before I could speak.

“She is.”

“Then we will support your cause,” Lord William replied simply, and I felt my breath escape my lungs in a rush.  I slid out of the saddle and landed on the ground to grasp Lord William’s arm with my hand.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“I am from the old kingdom,” Lord William said with a shrug.  “I do not approve of your choice of wife, but that does not change the royalty within her belly.  Edgar has gone too far.  The other kingdoms will not stand for it.  If you give them time, they will all stand against Edgar now.”

The lump in my throat returned.

It was not unlike what my other advisors had said to me.  If we wait, they will likely join us.  An affront to a royal, even an unborn one, was simply unthinkable.  Even those who would not accept Alexandra’s standing as Queen of Silverhelm—and there were many in the outside kingdoms who did not approve—would not stand for such an attack on a royal child.

“I will not allow her to be in his clutches any longer,” I stated.  “We go to war now.”

Lord William focused his dark eyes on me as he contemplated a moment and then slowly nodded his head.

“So it will be,” he said quietly, then turned to the men beside him.  “Make yourselves ready!  Gather the siege equipment!  We fight with King Branford of Silverhelm!”

“Thank you,” I said again.

“King Branford,” Lord William said, “I have more to show you.  You know of our siege weapons, but there is something else we have discovered more recently.  It is something that may very well turn the tide on these times and end Edgar’s reign over Wynton.”

“What is it?” I asked.

I was answered with a sly smile and a gesture toward the blacksmith’s shop.  Sir Rylan accompanied us as we walked to the back of the building.  Lord William directed us behind the forge to the smithy and introduced us to a young, dark-haired man with eyes that glittered with excitement as he talked of his craft.  His name was Benjamin, and he had something of great importance to show me.

“I learned this from the men in the south,” he said, “far from here.  When they battle, they use sword and bow as we do, but they have another weapon—they also use fire.”

“We all use fire,” I scoffed.  “How is this of use to me?”

“But, sire,” the young man said with wide, bright eyes, “they use fire on their arrows.”

“Arrows are made of wood,” I reminded him, “not metal.  They would burn up before they would ever reach your foe.”

“Not the way I make them,” Benjamin said.

I scowled at him, vowing in my mind to kill him for slowing me down if this proved useless.  Benjamin picked up an arrow from the anvil at his side and dipped it into a bucket of a black, gooey substance.  He turned it around in a circle as Rylan leaned closer to look.

“This is ridiculous,” I mumbled.

“Wait,” Sir Rylan said.  “I have heard of this.”

“See here, sire,” Benjamin said as he held the arrow up. The black goo did not drip as I would have thought but had congealed at the tip of the arrow.  He held it over the fire, and the tip immediately burst into flame.  I jumped back, startled from the flash.  The man grinned, and his obvious jocularity at my reaction might have ended his life on another day, but the importance of the flaming arrow caught my attention instead.

It did not burn out right away, nor did the flame creep up the rest of the wooden shaft.  Instead, it flamed only at the tip for a good minute before he drew back his bow and let the arrow fly at a straw target in the field.  The bale went up in flames almost immediately.

“What do you call it?” I asked.

“Pitch, my king,” Lord William replied.  The way he addressed me did not escape my notice.  As a resident of Wynton, Lord William’s king was Edgar, not me.

“And Edgar knows nothing of this?”

“If he does, it is not because anyone from Wynton has told him,” Lord William assured me.  His hand went to my shoulder.  “We are loyal to Silverhelm, my king.  That never changed in the people’s hearts.”

“I hope what little help I could get to you was useful,” I said.  When Edgar starved those who did not readily accept his rule, Alexandra had convinced me to send food and other aid to the people of Wynton.  Sir Rylan and Seacrest had also provided supplies, and Lord William knew this.

 “Many more would have perished without it.” Lord William nodded.

“How much of this...pitch do you have?” I asked the blacksmith.

Young Benjamin’s grin was accompanied by waggling eyebrows.

“Plenty.”

*****

This was it.

We crested the hillside that marked the edge of Edgar’s lands.  Over a handful of rolling hills, the castle walls could be seen.  There was a small group of farms and shacks in the outlying areas, but we passed them by.  No one was in the fields, and no one came out to either stop us or join us.  I would not kill innocents, but anyone who stood up for Hadebrand would not live to see another day.

Less than an hour later, we could see movement near the castle walls as a large group of soldiers, most of them wearing the red armor of Hadebrand, moved into place to stop us.  They obviously knew of our coming, but not far enough in advance to truly prepare.  I could see the castle gates close and the archers line up on the walls as we approached.

I did not hear them in time, but I saw swift movement in the sky.  I yelled at the men to raise shields, but they did not move fast enough.  As arrows fell all around us, many of the serfs near the front line were pierced and fell to the ground.  Shields went up all around, but it was not enough to protect them all.

“Advance!” I called out.  The slower they moved, the more likely they were to be hit.  I spurred Romero on, and he whinnied as he increased his speed.  “Keep up!”

The foot soldiers began to march forward, protecting some of the peasants and serfs with their shields as they moved.  The archers from Silverhelm and from Wynton were not close enough to start picking off the bowmen on the walls and in the towers—the angle was still too great at this distance.  Those with crossbows, which included Rylan, began to fire from the front rows—aiming for the knights on horseback.  The thick bolts drove home with enough force to pierce through their armor, and they fell noisily from their mounts.

The rest of the archers stayed behind the cavalry of Sawyer and Silverhelm.  They were prepared with traditional arrows to use at first, but once they were within range, they would rain down fire over the walls of Hadebrand’s castle.  I could still hear the rumbling of wheels on the road as the siege weaponry followed behind the rest of us.

We did not slow our pace, and as we reached the field outside the gates of Hadebrand’s castle, Edgar’s army moved forward.  I raised my sword up high, cried out to the cavalry, and led the charge as we rushed to close the remaining distance.

With my eyes focused on the men in red before me, I was in my element.  I rode without thought into the middle of the grouping, and my sword drew blood every time I swung my arm.  Romero snorted and pawed at the ground, but he also knew his place in battle and did not rear up or spook.  In the eyes of each man I encountered, I saw Edgar.  I saw the one who tried—and had succeeded in many ways—to hurt her.  I saw the man who was now holding her captive and endangering our child.

Though she was in the back of my mind and pushing me forward in my attack, I still dared not think of her openly.  I growled with hatred as I stabbed into the eye-slit of one soldier’s helm before I turned Romero in a wide circle and ducked to avoid a lance that was aimed at my throat.

From the ground, three men approached me at once—each holding a mace.  They were not in the red armor of Hadebrand but in plain, unmarked armor instead.  As the first approached, I spun Romero around and pulled back—causing him to rear up and lash out with his hooves at the first man.  The fighter was hit square in the forehead and dropped to the ground.  The other two moved to either side—flanking me and leaving me at a disadvantage.  I backed up my mount and watched them carefully as they drew near.

They both rushed me at the same time, and I managed to swing my sword at one as I kicked at the other.  It was not enough though the one who met with my blade was injured.  I felt the mace hit me in the back, and with a gasp, I fell from Romero and landed heavily on my side.  I rolled and pushed myself up on my knees just as my attacker rushed around and came at me.  His arm swung in a full arc, bringing the head of his mace toward my shoulder.  I parried to the side and knocked at his weapon with the blade of my sword.  He came at me again, and my eyes met with his as his mace flew through the air at me once more.  I jumped forward and reached for his arm just to slow the swipe, and my sword came around and bashed him in the side of the head.

He stumbled and fell, which gave me time to get back to my feet and meet his next attack without the disadvantage.  Our weapons clashed over and over as we fought, neither of us gaining the advantage over the other.

I felt my anger grow.  This man—this mercenary—helped Edgar in his plot to take Alexandra from me.  He may have even been there when she was abducted.  It was his type who had no loyalty or sense of honor but instead fought for nothing more than the pleasure of carrying gold in his pockets.  He sickened me.  They all sickened me.

I grabbed at his arm and linked it with my own elbow, holding the rough fighter close to me as I tried to get my sword around and in position to cut through his studded armor.  He growled and bared his teeth at me as he brought his forearm up quickly, knocking me to one side.  I spun around and swung my sword at his head, clipping his ear and drawing a thin line of blood from his neck.

He parried my next blow, moving back a few feet—back on the defensive as blood began to flow freely from the wound.  His next attack went wild and threw him off balance, giving me a chance to step in behind him and knock him to the ground.  My blade came to rest between his shoulder blades, and I turned quickly to call for Romero.

I did not get the chance, for when I turned around, I was met with a familiar face.

One I had battled before.

“Sir Remy.”

“Sir Branford.”  The captain of Edgar’s army now stood before me and sneered.

I took a short step backwards and readied myself.  He walked slowly from the left to the right, and we circled each other.  I looked into his scruffy, blood-covered face and remembered some of the things Alexandra had told me of him.  How he had treated the handmaids of the kingdom when they were given as tournament prizes and how he had often spoken to Alexandra as if she were nothing but common trash.

I growled as he sneered at me.  Unwilling and unable to wait any longer, I attacked.

I brought my sword up high and aimed for his shoulder, but he blocked me with his own blade.  A tremendous clash rang out from where they met, and I quickly side-stepped and slashed at him again and again.  I pushed with my blade as both swords came together, stepping forward at the same time and trying to wrench the hilt from his hand.  My shoulder hit his chest and arm, and his elbow came up to smash me in the cheekbone, cutting me with the edge of his gauntlet.

I stumbled away, quickly righting myself and gripping my sword between both hands.  I swung the long sword in a wide arc and again clashed with his blade.  As I did, my foot slipped in the dirt, and I felt the blade of my foe’s sword dig into my arm.  Sir Remy laughed and taunted me.

“This is what they call King in Silverhelm?” he said with another laugh.  “Is this all you have to challenge me?  Why, you are no more challenging than that so-called commoner queen of yours!”

I refused to listen as I went for him again, ignoring the blood running down my forearm.  Our weapons sang out as they met with more force than before, and this time as I turned his blade aside, I brought up my foot and connected with his chest.

It was his turn to fall back though I gave him little opportunity to right himself.  He continued with his jeers.

“I have had her, you know,” he yelled out.  “Shoved her on her face and fucked her like a dog.  I could not stand looking at that bloated body or that ugly face, but she was still complacent enough to take my verge without crying too much.”

All breath left me.  I told myself not to listen, for I knew he would say anything with the intent of distracting me.  He had done it in tournaments even when our lives were not at stake.  He had not touched Alexandra.  He could not have…

No…God, please, no…

With a scream, I went for him again.

As my sword hit his, I reached out with my hand, wanting to feel his flesh in my grip.  He parried the blow, stepped backwards and away from me, but I did not stop.  I grabbed for his neck, and my fingers found purchase.

I could feel his sword at my side, but we were too close, and he could not get the right angle to pierce through my chain shirt and into the leather beneath it.  I snarled into his face as our eyes met, and he glared up at me.  He moved swiftly and suddenly, and his forehead made contact with my own, sending me backwards.

Though I tried to keep my grip, my head spun, and I heard rather than felt my sword hit the ground beside me.  I fell onto my back, dazed and unarmed.  There was a low, dangerous laugh from above as I tried to focus on the shape of the man standing over me.  There was a glint of shiny metal in his hands.

“And so you end,” he said quietly.

I heard a growl, but it was not from my opponent; it was from behind me.  A mere half-second later, a dash of brown fur and floppy ears flew over the top of me, snarling and barking.  I heard Sir Remy yell and saw his form fall back and away.

I grabbed for my sword as I righted myself and shook my head to clear it.  Once I regained my vision, I saw Amarra snapping and clawing at Sir Remy’s leg as he kicked out at her repeatedly.  I stepped forward quickly, seizing the opportunity to drive my blade into his gut.

He stiffened and stilled, his cold blue eyes turning toward me as his weapon dropped from his hand.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came forth as I pulled my sword from his flesh.  I grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to me as I impaled him again, this time with a better angle, and I twisted the blade in a half circle inside of him.  A strange gurgle came from his throat as life dimmed from his eyes.  I threw him backwards, yelling incoherently at the body as it dropped to the ground.  My breath came in pants as I leaned over with my hands on my knees, trying to regain my senses.

Amarra walked up to the still form, growling low in her throat.  She sniffed at the blood coming from his stomach and chest, then stepped back, turned, and trotted away.  Apparently, she thought she had done her duty.

I could not argue with the sentiment.

Romero was still close, and Erik held the horse’s reins as he brought him forward to me.  I mounted the steed, and Erik followed behind us as I rode back into the fray.  Additional mercenaries and soldiers from Edgar’s army fell to my blade as I rode through their midst.  As more of Edgar’s men dropped, many of those still standing began to back away from the main battle and make their way toward the castle gates.

Though injured, our foes were still heavily armed, and Rylan pointed out the mercenaries in unmarked armor, not unlike the armor worn by those who had attacked my carriage.  It was the same type worn by the man I had killed earlier.  They all fought with similar maces and wore the same studded, leather armor.

I closed my eyes for a moment as I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.  It was difficult when there were so many enemies around me, and the blood on my sword was just beginning to dry.  I wanted more death.  It was the only thing that could distract me enough to keep thoughts of her out of my head.  I still dared not think her name.

My gaze fell on the two men in front who seemed to be the center of the mercenaries’ attention.  One tall man with a full beard appeared to be directing the other mercenary soldiers toward the younger lads with poor weapons and no armor.  The other was at his side, relaying his orders to the ones behind them.

The bearded man’s face held a sinister grin as he kicked a farm boy of no more than thirteen years.

“Hand me your crossbow,” I murmured to Rylan.

“Of course,” Rylan replied.  He took the heavy, crank-powered crossbow from the back of his horse and handed it to me.  He placed a handful of bolts in my hand as well, and I quickly fitted one into the slot and cranked it back.  I steadied Romero, placed the weapon against my shoulder, took steady aim at the second man, and pulled at the trigger.

The bolt pierced the man through the neck, and he dropped to the ground.  The bearded man immediately turned from his ally toward our direction, and I allowed Romero to take a few steps forward as my gaze met with the mercenary leader’s eyes from across the battlefield.  His eyes grew wide as he called out to his men to begin retreating.

Without looking away from him, I brought up another bolt and placed it in its spot.  I steadied the weapon in my hands after pulling back the bolt with the crank.  The tension in the line was perfect, and my finger barely touched the trigger before it let loose.

The bolt hit him square in the back as he tried to turn and run.

Rylan laughed.

“That ought to disorganize the lot of them!” he cried out.  I placed another bolt in the shaft and held the weapon again to my shoulder.  A moment later, another soldier dropped to the ground.  I pierced a fourth man as he reached the young boys in my ranks though the bolt only went through his leg.  The boys immediately seized the opportunity as he lost his footing, and they were upon him.

I handed Rylan the crossbow, and he took a few shots himself before we rode off with the rest of the cavalry toward the main group of fighters.  Parnell was at the lead, his sword swooping down to the unhorsed soldiers as two other horsemen surrounded Hadebrand’s men and jabbed at them with spears.

We continued to press forward.

Hours later, with the sun deserting us below the horizon, the clash of steel on steel could still be heard outside the gates of Edgar’s castle.  We had fallen back somewhat—regrouping and planning the next stage of attack.  This was where I hoped to truly take advantage and push the battle-weary men of Silverhelm just one step closer to their queen.

I found my thoughts invaded by images of her face, but I pushed them aside.  I turned Romero around and rode back to where the archers were collected, preparing for the next offensive.  Benjamin was there with the Master Archer from my own army.

“Is it time?” I asked Benjamin, and I was met with his gleeful smile.

“Almost,” he replied.

I watched as over fifty archers each took a mug containing a glob of the black, sticky substance.  Benjamin said there was enough pitch to coat ten arrows each.  The archers knelt behind us and readied their arrow tips.  Benjamin took up two torches and handed one to Erik and one to Sir Rylan’s page.  The two boys ran behind the line of archers with torches extended, and one by one, the archers’ arrows began to glow.

“Now we are ready,” Benjamin said with a grin.

He nodded at the Master Archer, who drew back his bow and called to his men.

“Ready!” the Master Archer yelled loudly.  Each of the flame-tipped arrows rose to point at the sky. “Loose!”

My eyes widened in awe as the arrows remained lit and soared up into the sky in perfect, glowing arcs.  They left a trail of light through the clouds before disappearing behind the walls of the castle.  We could hear shouts from inside the castle walls, and I saw several places where firelight began to burn more brightly.  One man—still in flames—fell from the castle wall.

“Ready!  Loose!”

Fifty more arrows lit up the night sky as they sailed over the heads of the knights battling in the open field, over the walls of the castle, and inside again.  I could then hear the screaming of those who fought for Edgar as they burned.  The glow behind the castle walls became brighter as the sun set, and the battle continued.  Benjamin and his pitch-covered arrows continued to rain fire upon our enemy.

With the sun below the horizon, the bright fires from behind the walls were even more evident.  The battle in front of the castle was slowing both because all the men were tired and because the sheer number of bodies lying in the field were in the way.  They hindered the cavalry’s movement though it also meant the serfs and peasants who had survived thus far were better armed.  Each of them grabbed a mace or sword from the fallen enemies’ hands.

Still, there weren’t many of the common folk left.  As I looked around and quickly counted those still standing—both for Silverhelm and for Hadebrand—I knew the people of Silverhelm had indeed been willing to die for their queen.  There was no way we would have survived without them.

Parnell approached on foot with Rylan close behind him and called up to me.

“My king, many of Hadebrand’s soldiers and their mercenaries have surrendered. The fires inside the castle are reported to be reaching the inside walls.”

“We have to move inside,” I said, “and quickly.  We do not know where they are keeping Alexandra.”

“What of the prisoners, my king?” Parnell asked.

“No prisoners,” I replied.  “Any man who has fought for Hadebrand will die.”

“Yes, my king.”

I turned to Rylan as he mounted another horse and rode up beside me.

“Where are the engineers?” I asked.

Rylan motioned behind us, and I could see Lord William’s men with their machines.

“Ready, sire!”

“Make way for them!  Give them cover!”

With twenty men holding their shields for cover from Edgar’s bowmen, the engineers moved closer to the walls, pushing the huge log, sharpened at the front.  It rolled on a shortened cart but could be raised and lowered with a crank at the back and front wheels.  It was huge and it was heavy, and it took many of the farmers and other peasants to help push the gigantic contraption to the castle gate.

To get close enough to use it, those pushing the machine needed to be directly under the castle walls, which left them quite vulnerable.  Another line of peasant fighters—also partially protected by knights with their long, tower shields—stood at the ready so they could replace those that would undoubtedly fall during the attack.

As they approached, the engineers adjusted the height of the battering ram, and the men on the sides of the cart began to run.  The impact of the pointed end of the ram as it hit the castle gate must have been heard all the way back to Sterling.  Arrows fell from the top of the castle walls, and many of those pushing the ram dropped to the ground.  As the body of each man was pulled away, there was always another, ready to take his place.

Two more similar rams were used on the walls at the sides of the gate, smashing into the stone structures repeatedly until dust dropped onto the heads of the men who pushed it.  The stone walls were harder to breach, but the men were more effective as Hadebrand’s archers concentrated on those aiming for the gate.  At the same time, the catapults began their assault on the walls to the left and the right of the rams.  Huge rocks flew across the sky, slammed into the walls, and pulverized the stone.  Boulder after boulder was hurled through the sky, and slowly but surely, the walls started to come down.

Even as hot sand was poured from the top of the walls, the men continued to run forward as the end of the giant ram made contact with the wooden doors repeatedly.  They pulled back and rushed forward again as arrows tried to pierce them from above.  The archers behind us dutifully picked off the men on the walls where they could, but I still saw many of the peasants of Silverhelm fall as they were hit.  Still, as one man fell, another took his place, and the battering ram slammed continuously against the wooden gate.  Finally, there was a crack that could be heard across the field as the door splintered and broke.

“Almost there, Alexandra,” I said too quietly for anyone else to hear.  I closed my eyes for a brief moment, kicked at Romero’s sides, and we sped forward through the archway as the doors fell before us.  All around us, the walls surrounding Castle Hadebrand were crumbling.

And that is when I knew I had won the war.