"OUT OF THE WAY! MOVE!" Soldiers came storming down from the walls, moving towards the gate. They shoved Vol briskly out of the way. He did not retaliate. Not yet. He merely watched, and he waited, just like Blackbeard.
Two hundred men came down from the wall, leaving a hundred archers up there. It was enough for them to form four ranks across the length of the gate, their shields interlocked and their axes and swords ready.
Watching it, Vol's heart sank. Would he really get his opportunity like this? Even against a thousand men, he did not doubt the defender's chances. They had the superior position. The enemy would have to assault them against arrow fire on a reasonably narrow bridge – in battlefield terms. They wouldn't have been able to make the fullest use of their number.
Yet it wasn't enough, not enough for them to play the hero, to be instrumental in the defence of the city.
