Authors notes: part six in this fic, attack approaches!
"You are Bellephron's friend are you not?"
"Yes sir." replied Padraig.
"I have heard good things about you, stay with me." The count walked towards the main doors that lead out onto the street. Outside was a scene of total chaos, soldiers and peasants running in opposite directions. The count and his men pushed through the crowd towards the main gates. People dashed past them, all who got in the way where shoved aside or trampled.
"How am I meant to protect the city when I'm surrounded by idiots?" Bellephron glared menacingly at his assembled officers. "The next person to..."
"That's enough Bellephron!" came a voice from behind him. Bellephron looked around and saw the count and his men standing in the street, next to the count was Padraig, clad in his gleaming plate mail, long sword in hand.
"Padraig, what the hell are you doing here, you're supposed to be in bed!"
"I couldn't sit by and do nothing, you know me…"
"Still, you are not fit to fight!"
"Bellephron he's with me." the count butted in.
"Sir," asked Padraig, "where we will be stationed."
"We, Padraig, will hold the gate." replied the count, "that is where the fighting will be fiercest."
They were interrupted when a horn sounded in the distance.
"They will be at the walls in ten minutes, maybe less; I don't know how fast they can move." The count turned to face Bellephron. "Are the men ready?"
"Yes sir!" replied Bellephron, "the catapults are ready now and all units have taken their posts. Ballista teams in the towers are ready to fire; we have the finest marksmen on the walls ready to shoot at a moments notice."
"The fangs, are they ready to fire?"
"As always, sir."
"What are the fangs?" asked Padraig, curious that he hadn't heard of this.
"The fangs," boomed Bellephron "the fangs are the two greatest cannon in the province, and they guard the gatehouse, ready to crush any intruder, they are forged from the..."
"Yes," the count butted in, "That is all very good, but we cannot relay solely on them.
The walls of Laarick have not been breached since the great daemon wars and I do not intend to be the one to break that tradition. Tell all artillery crews their first priority is the giants, we must take them down before they reach the gate, they could wreak havoc if they got inside the city."
"I'll tell them now sir!" yelled Bellephron and with that, he ran off. Padraig looked around, surveying the defences, looking for any possible signs of weakness. All around the walls stood units of swordsmen, ready to pounce on any enemy that breached the walls. At the gatehouse stood a formation of swords and pikes, swordsmen creating a shield wall at the front while the pikesmen stood behind providing support to their comrades, so that any attacker would have to run headlong into a line of pikes, before crashing onto the shields of the swordsmen. Padraig also took this time to study the soldier's uniform. They wore a dark blue tunic with white trousers and black boots. Over their tunic was a metal breastplate, and all the soldiers had on steel helmets. Their weapons glinted in the sunlight, blinding Padraig. It was now he realised everything had gone deathly quiet; the only noise was of the birds circling overhead and the sound of men shuffling their boots nervously.
"The call of battle, high in the air…"
Padraig recalled the old battle song he had learnt when he was young. The last he had heard of this was in the last Great War, 10 years ago, many leagues from here.
"The clash of swords, the whistling of arrows,
Time for battle as the enemy is there…
Every hero's wish, to defeat all foes."
Suddenly a great roar sounded from the other side of the walls.
"They're round the back! They've cut a way through the mountain! Fire! Fire!"
The calm was broken as more roars cut through the air, accompanied by screams of men. Padraig heard the clanking as the ballista were turned to aim at the giants, the twang of the high-tension wires, 10 foot of steel exploding out the back of a giant's torso.
Through all of this the count was standing calm, obviously confident in the walls defence and his phalanx of warriors.
"Padraig, just take a look to the south here."
"Yes sir… what?"
For when looking through the small gap Padraig had seen a massive army of barbarians marching up the road, to the main gate.
"The giants are a distraction…" he breathed.
"Just as I thought," said the count.
Padraig started sprinting towards Bellephron's squad, anxious to warn him.
"Bellephron! Look out! It... It's a distraction!" he panted.
"What? Right I've got this."
Bellephron began to pick out soldiers from his squad; Padraig guessed he was looking for the elite.
"We need them… up at the gate!"
"Alright you lot, get up there! Bring half the cannons and ballistas!"
A dozen soldiers began dragging the weapons towards the gate, while a score of heavy troops ran up towards the count and the gates.
When Padraig returned the count was looking through the hole again.
"They're getting closer! Hurry up!" he turned round and bellowed. Padraig was astounded. He'd never seen the count so angry…or so scared.
"Right sir, we're in position, but the barbarians are still out of range."
"Start winding them up then! Fools!"
The soldiers started to tighten the cord on the ballistas, increasing the tension to almost breaking point. Cannons were aimed and loaded.
"In range! OPEN FIRE!"
Cannons boomed, ballistas twanged, the onslaught was merciless. Explosions ringed the walls, the barbarians, clad only in furs and chain mail, had no chance.
"The Fangs! The Fangs are ready!"
Padraig watched as the two rumoured most powerful cannon turned to face the intruder. There was a moment's peace. Then all Hell was unleashed upon the invaders. The explosions were massive, and Padraig could feel the shockwaves from here. After it was done Padraig saw a smoke cloud in the air. He thought it resembled a kind of giant mushroom.
"The day is ours! The frost giants are retreating!"
A mighty cheer went up from the assembled ranks of soldiers. The count still looked unsure, though.
"Padraig, don't you think that retreat was too swift?"
"Exactly sir, I think they're up to something…"
"Nonsense!" boomed Bellephron. "The dogs just saw they could not face the might of our forces! They've turned tail and ran!"
"Hmm…" murmured the count, "I wonder…"