The Vampire & Her Witch

”Well done, Little Brother,” Heila said with a faint smile on her lips as she placed a hand on the young Frost Walker lord’s knee. The screams of pain and fear above her tugged at her healer’s heart, but just as she had done on the sands of the arena, she clamped down firmly on her resolve and reminded herself that the sooner they brought the battle to an end, the fewer people would suffer and die.

”Lord Jalal, Kurtz,” Heila said as she looked down the short tunnel to the plaza where Dame Sybyll and Sir Tommin clashed. ”Those templars have bad manners,” she said with a frown as she watched them supporting Tommin with healing energy. ”Teach them to fight their own battles,” she said.

Both warriors gave only the briefest of nods before charging toward the plaza, each racing with blood that boiled at the notion of interlopers interfering with what should have been a duel between Champions.

Heila, however, still had one last task to perform as she crouched in the entryway of the tunnel.

”Snow, shimmer and shine,” she said, once again clutching the hilt of Snow Fang as she drew on the power of the blade to control the snow that covered the ground. In a few short heartbeats, a whirlwind of snowflakes shot high into the sky before exploding in a glittering flurry of radiant, purple flakes.

It was the signal that Sybyll’s army had been waiting for and it had come only minutes after Ipiktok’s Tuscans began their bombardment. Now the way was clear and the entire army thundered forward.

-BOOM BOOM- -BOOM BOOM- -CLACK- -CLACK- -CLACK- -CLACK- -CLACK- -BOOM BOOM- ...

The beat of the drums changed yet again, bringing swiftness like the wind to the feet of hundreds of soldiers as they charged across the snow.

-PFREEEEEEEET!-

”RAMPS!” Ipiktok shouted as he returned his sling to his belt only to bend down and grab a thick, heavy rope that connected to one corner of a tree trunk more than fifty paces long and three paces across that Lady Heila had hewn in half for the entire length of the tree.

Next to him, another Tuscan took up the rope on the opposite corner before both men charged toward a position on the wall more than fifty paces to the left of the West Gate. The massive half-trunk carved a deep furrow through the snow as they dragged it, leaving behind a trail of wood shavings and exposed bark where the rough-hewn surface scraped against the frozen ground.

One hundred paces away, another pair of Tuscans grabbed the other half of the tree trunk and hauled it toward their own position fifty paces to the right of the west gate. The primitive nature of Heila’s battlefield carpentry was immediately apparent—jagged splinters jutted from the cut surface, and the bark remained intact along the rounded side, making the makeshift ramp treacherous even before enemy action.

Behind them, the Second Army split into three columns. To the left and right, fifty Golden Eyed skirmishers ran with curved knives already drawn as they prepared to be the first to rush up the ramps that Ipiktok and the remaining Tuscans were raising into place. Behind them, twenty Glass Eyed archers followed close behind, bows at the ready in case they saw any sign that the humans were poking their heads above the walls now that the bombardment of iron shot had ended.

”UUUUUURRRRRAAAAAARRGGGGG,” the Tuscans roared as they heaved their burdens against the stone walls, slamming them into place with a loud -CRUNCH- that shook snow and broken bits of stone from the battlements above.

As the first ramp settled into position, the advancing column began to slow as the ramp that had sounded like a quick path to the top of the wall when the plans were explained now looked rough, narrow, wobbly and unreasonably steep even to the most nimble and sure-footed among the Golden Eyed Warriors.

”Up! Up! Storm the walls!” Captain Rafal shouted, lashing out with a claw at anyone who hesitated as the first wave of skirmishers bounded toward the left ramp. Their lupine agility was the only thing that made such a crude assault path feasible in the first place, but if they slowed their pace, they were doomed to fail before they made it even half way up the ramp.

The first Golden Eyed warrior had barely gained his footing on the narrow, rough hewn surface of the ramp when an arrow sprouted from his chest, sending him tumbling backward into his companions with an anguished cry.

”ARCHERS!” one of the human defenders shouted from the walls above. ”Take them as they climb!”

But before the human archers could loose a second volley, Glass Eyed bowmen behind the assault responded with their own deadly accuracy. Three arrows flew upward in perfect unison, and a heartbeat later, a lightly armored soldier tumbled through the air before crashing onto the broken stones below with a meaty -SPLAT- that dyed the snow red for three paces in every direction.

”Faster! Follow me,” Captain Rafal shouted, charging to the front of the line and sprinting up the improvised ramp as fast as he could run. So long as he moved quickly, his steps were light and the ramp was stable, quickly delivering him to the battlements above where startled humans scattered at the sudden appearance of the Golden Eyed warrior wielding curved knives that looked like fangs ready to tear through their flesh.

As more skirmishers crowded onto the primitive ramps, the structural weaknesses of Heila’s improvised constructs became devastatingly apparent. The left ramp began to groan and sway under the weight of a dozen climbers and the massive log shifted against the wall with each step.

-CRACK- -CRACK- -CREEEEEEAK-

”It’s giving way!” one of the Golden Eyed warriors shouted, just as the warrior ahead of him lost his footing on the swaying, narrow surface of the log. Both tumbled sideways, their claws scrabbling desperately for purchase as they fell into the snow below with bone-jarring impacts.

”BRACE!” Ipiktok shouted at his fellow Tuscans, ordering more men into position beside the ramps, kneeling on the ground to slide their shoulders under the heavy logs and absorbing the shock of the climbing soldiers with their own bodies.

Like the ramps themselves, it was a crude, improvised strategy, but it gave them the stability they needed for dozens of soldiers to quickly scale the walls, and for Sybyll’s plan to succeed, that was all they needed.