Riley stood in the breach, sighing softly. His eyes scanned the land in the dimness of the twilight. The sun was just barely gone, and with it, the easy view of the foothills surrounding Klain. The hours of this shift, he guessed, would be seemingly endless and full of tension. Like all within the front few lines of defense, he held a long pike in addition to his sword. In the event of a charge, they were to form a human wall of spikes to impale their enemies.
He could feel the nerves rising around him amongst the troops. The more the light faded, the more agitated they became. It would be bad enough atop the high wall, but down in the breach, the most vulnerable part of the city, it felt like crouching in a valley of death with no escape.
To flee the anxiety gripping them would be to invite the enemy through the gap, and let the destruction run rampant through the city.
The only way through this night would be to stand their ground, together. Hold the lines, and block the way with their bodies if need be.
That grim possibility played with the minds of each man as they strained their eyes into the shadows. Each sound, every moment the breeze rose, every time someone shifted from one foot to the other, contributed to the suspense of waiting.
Riley wished he'd stopped to check on Ashley and her mother. There was a very real possibility he could die tonight. She could be in no doubt of his feelings. Still, the chance to tell her goodbye, just in case, would have been... well, there was no use regretting it now.
Focusing his attention back into the blackness of the moonless night, he strained to catch sight or sound of anything suspicious. He heard... what was it, exactly, that he was hearing?
Suddenly, from the wall, there was a sound like a rockslide. The distinct sound of metal scraping rock filled the air as every eye shot over to where a Klain soldier was falling from the top of the wall, his armor scraping and clanging against the battlements as he descended. As he landed on the ground below, a long bolt was sticking from the middle of his chest. A dozen others followed it, striking into the heart of the defensive line, or narrowly missing other guards atop the standing parts of the wall.
The horn of battle blew as the Klain soldiers lifted shields and pikes on the front line and turned back toward the darkness. A flurry of bolts and rocks fired from ballistae collided with the shields, piercing some and being deflected, barely, by others. The machines were powerful and deadly.
Archers on Klain's wall volleyed a countermeasure of arrows, but in the dim light it was difficult to find their targets. The drawback of such a fine wall on a high hill was ready visibility to attackers. Torches were put out to minimize the risk of being hit directly, but it seemed to do little good.
Another flock of bolts dug into the lines, punching holes in the solid defense of the city. The Klain archers responded again with arrows, this time dipped in pitch and set aflame. The river and lake surrounding the city served as a natural moat, but also as a barrier against wildfires.
Klain was not above attempting to start wildfires on the surrounding hills as a defensive measure. The vegetation could grow back; the lives in the city could not be replaced.
The flaming arrows arched gracefully over the river, their reflections in the clear water briefly painting a beautiful picture, as if a collection of shooting stars was descending to earth. Passing over the de facto moat, however, the light of the flames revealed a force of thousands charging silently across the land, the leaders already at the water's edge. Ominous black eyes were the only parts of their faces visible through their head coverings.
It was as if the flames showed Klain an army of demons on their doorstep, about to strike.
Riley steeled himself as the flaming arrows passed over the heads of the first attackers and reached their destinations. Some briefly started small fires that were quickly stomped out. The grass was not dry enough tonight to provide real fuel.
The Rhone were already skipping deftly across the rubble that still made a makeshift bridge of stepping stones through the river. Another set of archers behind the wooden palisades fired directly into the oncoming line of invaders, taking out a portion of the first wave. The archers ducked backwards, taking shelter behind the shields and pikes as they drew again and fired between the shoulders of their brothers in arms.
The first few Rhone, unwilling to wait to form a solid line of attack and be picked off by archers, rushed the barriers. They hoped to drive the Klain back with their use of long spears through the gaps in the palisades. There was a cacophony of metal as the pikes and spears jabbed half-blind at each other in the dark across the lines of battle. Shields and metal and leather armor all vied to be tougher than the attacks perpetuated against them.
To clamor over the palisades or rock barriers, the Rhone temporarily lost their ability to wield their spears to their greatest ability, allowing the Klain to strike them down. Even as they descended from their perch, they were met below with a bed of sharp pikes.
Riley held his ground with his line, bracing his pike as man after man tried to maneuver through the weaknesses left by bolts and arrows that had found their marks. Standing together with the others to be met rather than racing forward to meet the enemy, they stood, despite the growing panic at the vehemence of the attack. Patience and delay, rather than offense, would be best in this situation.
He still held out hope that Finn and Roland could work something out and that a retreat would be called. Riley wanted as little blood on his hands as he could manage while still keeping the city safe.
The woman he loved, not to mention his sister and his friends, were within that city. The Rhone were intent on razing it to the ground and destroying all its people. That could not happen, no matter what Riley had to do to prevent it. Still, he dreaded the imminent test of his humanity. He'd never taken a man's life.
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Prince Duncan watched as his forces clashed with the enemy at the wall. Raising his arm and dropping it, he sent another set of bolts flying from the ballistae at the archers atop the wall. If the high ground was an advantage in battle, he would shoot down every man that stood higher than his soldiers.
He held out some small hope that Derek would break the curse by marrying the girl, but that seemed far too simple a solution. Breaking curses required sacrifice, bloodshed, change. There was no way to redemption and freedom without it that he knew.
A portal opened to his right, and he turned towards it as a messenger appeared.
"Sir," He saluted.
"What is it? You were supposed to be leading the soldiers infiltrating inside the wall." The streets inside Klain were not wide enough for a full invasion all at once. Duncan had dispatched several companies of men to open portals inside the city while the Klain army concentrated on those attacking from outside the wall.
"Portals will not work inside the city. They won't open at all." The messenger looked bewildered, and Duncan cursed under his breath. This fight was supposed to be a diversion, not the main thrust of the invasion. Many more Rhone lives would be lost this way.
"Bring the men here to reinforce us." Duncan had considered sending them to support the queen, but he had no way of knowing how her own plans would change based on these developments. She certainly didn't have his men's wellbeing at the center of her goals.
"Yes, Sir." The messenger disappeared back into the Darkness to relay the new orders.
Duncan suppressed the urge to rub his face in frustration and turned stoically toward the battle. His men on the front line were being cut down one by one. He shouted an order for the ballistae to fire at will to take down anyone still standing on the wall, and then to fire into the Klain army as long as they could avoid hitting any of their fellow Rhone.
The next volley of arrows returning from the Klain appeared to have something new attached to them. Duncan squinted as the projectiles came closer, flying across the distance with fantastic speed. One landed meters ahead of him and his eyes widened as he recognized one of the brightly colored pouches Titania used for her herb magic.
Where had Klain gotten those? The only ones there had been planted by the spies in the emergency stores of the city and were supposed to have activated hours ago. They had been made to--
"Duck!" The Prince commanded as he dove away from the nearest one. He hit the ground as the object exploded into flames, severely burning those souls unfortunate enough to be within its blast radius. Other pouches had been made to release a noxious gas that would make everything it touched into poison. Duncan wondered whether those had landed elsewhere within his forces or were still to come.
The situation was deteriorating, yet, to retreat now would give up Rhone's best chance at defeating Klain. If Rhone withdrew, the wall would be rebuilt, and quickly. Without their ability to portal into the city itself, this was their only way in.
Standing back to his feet, Duncan swallowed his trepidation and gave orders to consolidate the troops for another run at the gap in the wall. Despite Klain's efforts, they were suffering losses in the breach. Rhone's spears were longer and more versatile, and slowly the Klain were falling.
Although appearances might have been to the contrary from a distance, Rhone was slowly winning.