Titania stared at the hole in the wall she had created. A cruel smile twisted her lips as she watched the futile efforts of the soldier attempting to hold off the wolves. She gestured to the makeshift army around her. Expendable things, the villager men.
They were to be sent into the breach to kill, warned that the second they stopped fighting for Rhone, the wolves would turn on them and their families would be executed. She knew that rumors and news had spread of the villagers being forced to fight, and used that now to demoralize Klain's troops. Killing innocent men would not sit well in their weak stomachs.
This strategy also had the advantage of not risking any of the troops loyal to her.
The gap in the wall was significant, and the breach would put fear into the people. To be encircled in safety and have that safety broken so spectacularly and so quickly would break into their souls. The herbs for the arrow had been rare and taken long to gather. She'd spent the past decades preparing for this invasion. The time spent searching for and cultivating all the necessary herbs from this world became paramount after Rhone had harvested all to be found in the Darkness.
It also had the advantage of depriving their enemies of the resources. Titania was assured that they had very little magic, if any, to speak of. She only wished there had been enough in this world to blow the city completely apart so that she could get what was underneath it.
The brave little soldier continued fighting despite his increasing wounds, amusing Titania slightly as she looked on. Reinforcements would soon be arriving for him, but she doubted he would survive that long.
The wolves were expendable, and there were many. She'd perfected the control over them so that new ones could be subjugated almost immediately upon capture. The bears and other creatures were far less reliable, but an option if Titania felt necessary.
Finally, soldiers from within the city came to help the struggling child-warrior. Seeing his sorry state, they surrounded him as Titania's villager-hostages arrived on the scene. They fought halfheartedly, as if to signal this was against their will. Klain's soldiers showed no mercy, as they could not afford to be distracted from keeping the vicious wolves from getting loose into the city.
This did not bother her. The description of their husbands and fathers mercilessly cut down by Klain would ensure the women and children of the villages would resent the city. Furthermore, without the protection of their men, they would be dependent on Rhone for their futures, giving her more subjects.
No matter how today went, she counted it as victory. Klain would live in fear tonight, concentrating their guards on the hole in the wall. Every citizen would wonder if a stray wolf or two snuck through, waiting to kill from the shadows.
Supplies would quickly run low as the time-release herbs her spy had planted in the emergency stores exploded and destroyed the food. Eventually, Klain would surrender, starve, or try to flee through their tunnels into the mountains. With winter well on its way, that all but guaranteed death.
Suddenly, something caught her attention. A man of stately bearing and splendid armor joined the troops riding a magnificent horse. He was older, with a long beard and a fierce expression.
So fierce, that even the wolves fled from him.
Titania's eyebrows rose as he singlehandedly drove the beasts back without even striking one. What sorcery was this? The man took small parcels from the bag at his side and quickly threw them to the foot soldiers. As each caught the bags, the wolves retreated further, cowering and whining.
This left the village-hostages without cover, and they quickly fell to Klain swords. The Queen's mouth settled into a firm line as she observed the small bags being used to line the gap in the wall, where wolves would no longer cross.
They retreated towards their mistress as she whistled. They were useless until she figured out what Klain had done, and where they had gotten this kind of help. A cool wind from the mountains carried air across her face and she sniffed it delicately.
There, amongst the scent of death and the cloying remnants of the dust kicked into the air by the explosion, she detected something herbal and bitter. Frowning, she snapped her fingers and whistled. The wolves retreated into the Darkness and she followed them. It mattered not a bit to her if every villager she'd recruited died today.
This first blow was not meant to win the war, but to crack the enemy's armor.
___________
The General finished directing his soldiers to line the breach in the city wall with wolf repellant. He had just gotten the delivery from young Mayra, friend of Serafina and daughter of Ashmayne, when the horn blew announcing attack.
He'd had the foresight to make sure that at least one of his horses was saddled at all times, on a rotating schedule, so that he could leave immediately at the first sign of trouble.
As soon as he'd mounted, a huge rumbling of earth had spooked the animal, and the General as well, if he were to be honest. Looking towards the sound and seeing distant pieces of the wall flying through the air had been something he had never thought he'd see.
He had screamed at the young girl to get inside and stay there before kicking his horse and riding toward the battle. It was a short ride, but his horse was hampered by panic in the streets. He briefly considered jumping off and continuing on foot, but soon a second horn's cry made people pay attention to their surroundings and make way for the General.
He had expected to arrive to chaos, but he was proud to see his soldiers forming lines and working properly as a unit. Enemies and wolves were flooding the breach, and a mighty clash was in progress.
Now that the wolves had retreated and the enemies were slain, he was able to more thoroughly assess the situation. It did not make sense to him that the Rhone should retreat when the element of surprise had so thoroughly shaken the city.
Based on Roland's reports of their forces, this group of a few hundred men that had rushed the wall were nothing, and had not fought passionately, or skillfully. He knelt down and picked up a weapon from one who had fallen.
It was crude, and rusted. Hardly the weapon of a valued soldier. He swallowed, and looked around at the slain around him. They weren't fighting like warriors. These must have been the kidnapped villagers. That cowardly queen hadn't sent her own people to fight and be killed, but hostages. It was evil.
He surveyed his soldiers, seeing many wounded, mostly from the wall's collapse. The injuries were varied, but many severe. He closed his eyes and wondered how many were buried under the rubble.
Near him, a very young soldier was sitting on a stone panting heavily. He bled from many wounds, but none looked immediately lethal. The General had seen him as he arrived surrounded by other soldiers as if to defend him. The leader picked his way across haphazard stones and several wolf carcasses to get to the boy, for a boy he seemed to be.
"Report, soldier," He ordered. With so many injuries, the boy had likely been there for longer than the uninjured.
"Private Peter, Sir," He tried to stand, but the General waved him down and sat next to him so he wouldn't feel the need to try. "I was patrolling the wall, and saw a woman with a bow on the other side of the river. She had white hair and terrible black eyes. I called the alarm and archers gathered to take her down. She shot a single arrow at the wall and... it exploded, sir.
"In the chaos as the wall fell, I scrambled to safety, but then she... somehow, dark holes formed around her and wolves flooded out. About a hundred. They charged across the stones to enter the breach into the city, and I climbed down to fight them. The enemy soldiers followed. I kept them held back as long as I could." Peter was breathing heavily from the exertion of telling the tale.
"How many wolves did you kill, soldier?" The General surveyed the carnage in the immediate vicinity.
"I don't know sir. Ten or twelve, I think." He spat a little blood. He used his tongue to feel a cut inside his cheek as he secretly hoped the conversation would end quickly.
"Well done. I'll find you a doctor," The General stood, and to his great ire, saw Mayra standing at the edge of the killing field. "MAYRA! What are you doing here?" He shouted.
"I have some training in healing," She defended herself, though really it was probably her own curiosity combined with Finn rubbing off on her that drove her to follow the General's mad dash to the battle.
The General rolled his eyes, "Fine, then come treat this young hero."