The ogre archers fired. The air filled with a shrill whistling sound as hundreds of arrows rose up and descended toward the oncoming traitors and invaders.
Suddenly there arose a burst of wind so wild and furious that it raised a dust storm blinding the defenders. The ogres on the walls coughed harshly as their lungs filled with dust.
And the coughs suddenly turned into pained cries as arrows pierced many throats, many chests. Warriors on the walls fell dead, and several in other areas perished.
They had been slain by their own arrows. The wind had been no sudden fluke. Several of the defenders growled anxiously. They knew magic and its insidious potential. The surviving officers immediately roared orders to the milling ranks, seeking to herd them together into an organized body. They beat the warriors on the heads in order to make certain that their fear of disobeying orders outweighed their fear of anything else.
Even as the defenders reorganized, a great roar was heard from the enemy, one that those protecting Sadurak readily recognized. The attackers had signaled their charge.
The officer in command gestured for another volley of arrows. He had no choice under the circumstances.
A less cohesive flight of arrows shot out among the oncoming fighters. Several of the defenders bared their teeth as the bolts neared the enemy. No wind arose. Not that time.
But with fine precision, both the ogres and Uruv Suurt raised their shields toward the flight. Arrows bounced off the rounded shields, raising a great clatter but creating little damage. A few fell earthward, but hardly any made a difference.
The enemy fired. Their arrows all but blackened the sky. The senior officer stared at his fighters, who were still trying to reorganize. “Shields!” he roared. “Shields!”
Some belatedly raised their shields, but most did not notice the danger soon enough.
The bolts decimated the front lines. There had been no need for magic; the Uruv Suurt archers were exceptional.
It was too late to order the force back into Sadurak, for the enemy was close. Worse, the defenses on the walls were disorganized and in no shape to come to their comrades’ aid.
At that moment, a sound like thunder erupted from just within the city. Two of the catapults had fired, their commander evidently having managed to whip his crews into swift action.
The minotaurs were said to have a variety of missiles to cram into their catapults, but ogres used only the most basic loads. The huge boulders went soaring overhead and dropped on the enemy.
They struck the traitors and the legionaries hard, crushing several and sending many other fighters flying in the air. The massive rocks struck the ground and rolled. A third fired, and with the catapults the defenders hopes rose again.
“Ranks!” Jod’s second growled. “Ranks!” The single word commands were best for his warriors, many of whom were not as well versed in Common as their leader. They understood him well enough, though, and did their best to regain some semblance of order.
And just in time.
Blades clashed against blades, and new screams arose as the attackers struck his lines hard. The lead ogre signaled the mastarks forward, deciding he had no chance to keep them in reserve. The gargantuan beasts eagerly lumbered into the struggle. They immediately lowered their helmeted heads and thrust their great, curled tusks into the advancing enemy. With but a shake of their huge heads, they each bowled over several warriors at a time.
But almost immediately, two of the mastarks were surrounded by fighters with spears who seemed as though they had been waiting for just that opportunity. One mastark was speared several times in the space of a few moments; even such a powerful beast could not suffer so many wounds without failing. The mastark stumbled and dropped to one knee, as its assailants continued to pierce it. The animal managed to knock away a few opponents with its long, serpentine trunk, but even that was speared over and over until soaked with blood.
The handler and guard atop the creature tried to keep the enemy at bay, but an arrow slew the former, leaving the guard to try to control the mastark himself. Because he was not as familiar with the animal as the chief handler, the guard’s efforts only provoked further confusion in the mastark. Bleeding, uncertain as to what the one controlling it wished for it to do, the huge creature stumbled around on three legs. As it turned, it collided with the mastarks on its own side.
Those attacking the mastark took advantage of the new chaos by finishing the animal. The dying beast let out a trumpeting cry before collapsing upon several defenders unable to get out of its unpredictable path.
Even as the other mastarks were kept at bay, the traitors’ beasts moved in to further harass the surviving defenders. The lead officer urged his mount toward the line of pikes.
But the pikes were already beleaguered by their own mastarks running amok behind them. Instead of ordering his pikes to take on the traitor’s beasts, Jod’s second-in-command had to herd his warriors together to protect themselves from their own.
The archers on the walls, and the catapults behind them, were the most effective weapons that the defenders had against the traitors and their horned allies. The commanding officer grunted with satisfaction as another boulder struck his foes. At least Sadurak had one weapon that the traitors could not neutralize.
Suddenly a cracking sound emanated from the other side of the fight, and shouts and cries came from the defenders. Several fell to the side as a huge wooden missile hurtled through their ranks. It was followed by a second, and a third.
Golgren’s ogres knew of the mechanical weapons of the Uruv Suurt. Usually the ballistae were found aboard imperial warships and used to rake the decks and sails, or rip holes in hulls. The ogres had heard of their possible use on land, yet none had believed it practical.
Even if only a few fighters actually perished or were merely wounded by the fusillade, the effect of seeing the ballistae in action added yet another element of shock.
There was no choice but for the remaining defenders to pull back into Sadurak as best they could. The commanding officer managed to sound the signal for retreat; the surviving archers on the walls gave cover fire as the harassed warriors fled through the guarded gates.
As soon as the gates were barred, Jod’s second in command ran up to the walls to take measure of the situation. The defenders felt much of their confidence return inside. They had tasted the traitors’ magic once, but the attackers had relied on physical strength and strategy since. Against those, Sadurak could surely stand.
The commanding officer urged more and more archers to the walls, even those who were not as proficient as he would have desired. What mattered was to make any advance toward the gates costly. That would drain even the morale of the Uruv Suurt.
The walls suddenly shook as though the earth were quaking. A few of the warriors lining the top fell.
The defenders froze, aware that the tremor was no natural occurrence. Another rocked the walls. From the southern region, a warning horn sounded.
The senior officer raced to where he could see what was happening. He and others stared in amazement as two mastarks rammed their helmeted heads into the walls’ stone. The veteran warrior thought the beasts’ handlers mad until he recognized that particular section of wall. It was one of those most recently renovated with some of the more inferior stone from the quarries-Jod could only take what the quarries produced.
A warning horn sounded from nearer the gates. Jod’s second in command leaped down to another officer. Sending him to gather warriors to defend the likely breach in the south, he readied his own force behind the cracking area by the gate, signaling the catapults to lob boulders just over the walls as best they could.
But as the crews struggled to maneuver the unwieldy weapons, another thundering crash struck near Sadurak’s gates. Huge blocks of stone tumbled in, crushing two sentries and sending an archer atop the gates plummeting to his doom.