As the next day dawned it marked the ninth assault on the small castle, and the peasant prepared themselves for yet another grueling attempt to breach the walls.
The sun cast its early rays over the battlefield, illuminating the makeshift ladders leaning precariously against the weathered stone ramparts. Shouts began to rise as they formed into disorganized but determined clusters.
The defenders atop the walls were already in position, their eyes bloodshot from days without proper rest. They gripped their weapons tightly, each man knowing that they did not have much fight in them.
For more than a week they had been fighting , repelling attack during the day while trying to take as much sleep as possible during the night, only to be weakened by the sound of horns on men on the wall that discovered a small assault being made in the dark.
''Those bastards are going to try again'' A weary soldier commented to another who simply nodded
