The negotiations had collapsed, and with no room for compromise, it was now a matter of swords and spears.
Inside the castle, soldiers clad in heavy armor stood atop the walls, crossbowmen in the towers checked their gear, and a large number of workers huddled beneath the walls, readying defensive weapons.
Norn watched as the Saracen army poured out in force, knowing that this time, they were serious.
Twelve siege towers covered in animal hides and eight battering rams were wheeled out. Along with them came countless shields, ballistae, and scaling ladders.
Now, the surging enemy, like a dark cloud, loomed over the hearts of the castle's defenders. Norn took a deep breath, gauged the distance of the approaching siege weapons, and then waved to Hamo, the knight below.
"Loose the stones!"
The castle's four counterweight trebuchets sprang into action, hurling massive boulders towards the siege towers. But the accuracy was frustratingly poor.
Finally, one siege tower was hit by a boulder, shattering into pieces and causing heavy casualties among the infantry below. But the other siege weapons continued to advance.
As the distance closed, the archers on both sides began to exchange fire. The Saracen archers, sheltered behind infantry shield walls or shields, loosed arrows towards the towers. The castle's crossbowmen, lacking wooden covers on the outer walls, had to huddle in the towers and shoot downwards.
For a moment, arrows from both sides brought death's greeting, and occasionally an unlucky soldier was sent to meet their god.
Norn fired his crossbow again, and another bolt found its mark—yet again, the unlucky guy next to the target.
Although the dense crowd below meant he couldn't miss, these past few days had taught Norn that he might not have much of a talent for shooting.
But when Norn glanced over, Patrick, with a flourish, nocked an arrow and let it fly. With a hum, a Saracen officer was pinned to the ground. Although Patrick would rest after each shot, Norn counted that in just a short while, he had taken out seven. Seemingly noticing Norn's observation, Patrick gave a friendly smile.
"Smooth! So dazzling!" Watching Patrick's cool demeanor, Norn turned his head to the corner, silently crying inside, wishing he had learned archery in his past life.
The siege weapons kept pushing forward. After losing three siege towers to the castle's fire, the remaining weapons finally approached the walls.
The massive siege towers slowly neared the walls, their archers on top able to shoot down at the defenders on the towers.
"Suppress them!" Patrick shouted, and the crossbowmen around him fired in unison, temporarily pinning down the archers on the towers. But without the crossbowmen's suppression, the Saracen infantry on the ground were able to move forward smoothly.
A battering ram finally reached the gate. Several soldiers pulled the ram back to its fullest extent and then released it, letting the ram crash into the gate.
"Boom!"
The sturdy ironwood gate began to warp.
Norn stood on the wooden watchtower directly above the ram, and with a wave of his hand, several barrels of oil were thrown down. The foul-smelling liquid splashed around the ram.
Before the soldiers below could react, Norn tossed a torch down, and the small gatehouse turned into an oven. The ram caught fire, and a dozen Saracens became human torches, running and screaming in agony. Their pitiful cries made the surrounding warriors avoid them at all costs.
Seeing the temporarily safe gate, Norn straightened up, only to see a ballista in the distance gleaming with a sinister cold light.
A dark shadow lunged at Norn, knocking him to the ground. A flash of cold light passed by, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood, as a ballista bolt pierced through the watchtower.
"Are you alright? Sassan," Norn patted Sassan's back, concerned.
Sassan immediately got up and dragged Norn away, "Milord, let's go!"
Norn was pulled away from the watchtower by Sassan, and it turned out that Sassan's judgment was spot-on. At least five ballistae had targeted the wooden watchtower above the gate, and the bolts turned the watchtower into a sieve. After another round of fire, the shattered watchtower became a pile of worthless planks.
Before Norn could sigh in relief at having narrowly escaped death, "Bang!" A door from a siege tower was placed on the wall right next to Norn. Several Saracen ironclad warriors, holding their shields high, tried to charge forward.
"Oil!"
More flaming oil jars were thrown out, and these ironclad warriors were set ablaze. The scorching flames consumed their senses, and they ran around wildly, even jumping off the walls.
"Are you alright, Norn?" Otto pulled Norn up, concerned.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Norn patted himself all over, making sure there were no wounds.
"That's good!" Otto pushed Norn behind him, looked at the dense enemy below the wall, and waved to William in the distance, "Sand!"
Seeing Otto's signal, William shouted to the soldiers around him, "Pour!"
Five iron barrels, heated to a red-hot glow, were tipped over, and scalding sand was poured down the wall. The fine sand seeped through the gaps in the armor and burned the skin beneath, turning the once-vibrant bodies into charred remains.
Countless screams of agony rose as the Saracens, doused in hot sand, instantly had their flesh rot. They frantically shook to get rid of the sand, only to increase the contact between the sand and their bodies. Eventually, the intense heat took their last breath, and they collapsed, reeking of burnt flesh.
Even so, the Saracen warriors continued to pour in like a tide. They climbed up the scaling ladders and the still-standing siege towers, engaging in fierce combat with the castle's defenders.
"Let these Saracens know what real fighting is!" Harold, sent to reinforce the battlements, led his Norse mercenaries up a critical section of the wall. The exceptionally tall Norsemen stood on the narrow battlements and became a bloody storm.
Harold's great axe swung in a deadly arc. A Saracen who had just jumped down from a ladder was sent flying off the wall like a struck baseball, crashing into other Saracens below.
The laughing Harold was even more excited. His great axe swung again, splitting a Saracen warrior and his armor in one stroke. Several Saracen warriors tried to close in on Harold with their shields, but with a swipe of his axe, one warrior was swept off the wall, while the others' blades couldn't pierce Harold's heavy chainmail.
"Who's next!" Harold took down Saracens one after another, piling up corpses higher than the battlements. Finally, looking around, there were no more Saracens on the battlements.
The enemy below also receded like a tide, leaving only a few siege towers still burning.
Norn, his face blackened by smoke, looked at the blood-red sunset and wearily muttered to himself, "Day one!"