It requires a certain level of self-control and a significant measure of talent to not be anxious when waiting for something important. Yet it requires those qualities to an even greater extent in order to be anxious but not show it. Nadal ob Insame was one of those rare beasts in that second category.
The weasel was clearly waiting for something—even more than usual he sat in his uppermost south tower office, hard cold eyes searching for something in the air beyond the windowpane. He knew precisely what he wanted to hear and he knew that he wanted to hear it as soon as possible. He nevertheless conducted business as usual. The only hint as to Nadal's anxiety was that anybeast overheard mentioning the mission was automatically dismissed from the commander's presence and regard.
Though the earlier stages of ob Insame's project could only be considered reckless, action at this point took on a practically exaggerated degree of caution. While hordebeast lives were perfectly expendable in the name of mechanical testing, doing too much too soon after the initial attack could be ruinous.
Not to mention that the flying machines were quite a labor to build—expensive in time and in resources. Thadius Roth's design for the contraption was something Nadal would never admit he'd wished he'd personally developed. As are many of the most brilliant inventions, this one was a combination of many simpler machines. While Nadal had only been enraged by earlier failed attempts at flight, Roth had kept careful note of each trial, and he had, as a true researcher does, taken everything from those trials into account.
The body of the machine was nothing more than an immense arrow of lightweight wood and sharpened steel, engineered to fit the bow used previously. The same jetblack feathering adorned the back also as previously, but two more appendages branched from near the hollowed-out seat in the middle of the fuselage. Made of oiled canvas stretched over steel rods, they resembled a bat's wings in their sectioned structure and in the way which they were attached to the shaft of the arrow. Using several levers the creature flying the device would be able to control the tilt and the spread of those wings to catch the wind currents and counter the natural parabolic path of an arrow from a bow. Yet Roth didn't leave anything about that law of physics to chance. As a precaution, oil lamps were installed carefully under each wing, the heat from which would provide extra lift to the canvas if necessary.
The things had flown sure enough, out of immediate recovery range anyhow. Nadal just needed to know if that extra distance was distance enough...
Kaliban and Holdsclaw had been sent under order of extreme caution to investigate the outcome. The eventual return to the towers was equally apprehensive. Dismounting onto the south tower roof, Kaliban had no idea what his news would mean to his leader. Sir? The wall is down.
Nadal blinked expressionlessly.
Knocked clean down an' blown apart, sir, Kaliban confirmed.
How could that be? the weasel mused inwardly. The intent was to get inside and attack from there. Ah, I'll speak with Roth about that. But...entirely down? What sort of losses?
The rat shrugged ignorantly, then wrinkled his brow. Not sure exactly, but it musta been lots. One whole wall was down.
Kra...it rreaked of death, Holdsclaw contributed.
So long as their losses were high, Nadal reasoned, the new new outcome is as good as the planned. Perhaps better. Now go and select more flyers for the second wall.