CAIUS: Crown of Threads and Shadows

On the third day, the first orc banners appeared beyond the mountains.

The morning had begun beneath a heavy gray sky, and a cold mist still clung to the slopes surrounding Castle Precipice. From the highest watchtower, a sentry stared toward the southern pass and saw movement emerging through the fog. At first, it appeared to be a line of dark shapes crossing the distant ridge, but as the mist shifted, more banners appeared behind them.

Then more.

And more.

The horns of the castle sounded.

The warning spread through Castle Precipice as soldiers rushed toward the walls and civilians gathered wherever they had been ordered to take shelter. Those who had chosen to remain had spent the previous two days preparing for this moment. Farmers had taken up spears and axes. Former mercenaries had gathered whatever weapons they could find. Even some of the castle servants had chosen to stay and fight.

From the battlements, Caius looked toward the open ground beyond the castle. The fortress itself was not large enough to be called a great stronghold. It had been built to control the mountain passage rather than house a massive garrison, with thick stone walls surrounding the central keep and several smaller structures within the grounds. A natural stream flowed around much of the castle, its waters cutting through the valley before passing along the outer walls. At the rear, a smaller channel had been dug and connected to the stream, completing the defensive barrier.

From above, Castle Precipice almost looked like a small island surrounded by water. It was not an impressive fortress compared to the great castles of the kingdom, but it had held the mountain frontier for generations.

Caius stood beside his father on the battlements, wearing his new equipment and carrying Nightdancer at his side. His fingers rested near the sword’s hilt as he stared into the distance.

The movement had become an army.

Thousands of orcs poured from the mountain passes and spread across the clearing before the castle. Their numbers seemed endless. War banners rose above the mass of bodies, each marked with crude symbols painted in red and black.

Cullum stood beside him, his expression unreadable. Neither father nor son spoke; they simply watched.

The orc army finally reached the clearing. Caius could barely comprehend the number of warriors gathered before them. There were more than seven thousand orcs, perhaps far more. Their ranks extended across the entire valley, filling the clearing from one side of the mountains to the other. Many carried crude axes, heavy clubs, spears, and enormous shields made from wood and iron. Others wore pieces of scavenged armor taken from previous battles. Their voices rolled across the valley like distant thunder.

Behind the main ranks stood several enormous stone creatures. Caius narrowed his eyes.

Stone golems.

They were roughly shaped like massive humanoid warriors, each one constructed from enormous blocks of gray stone bound together by glowing runes. Their heavy arms hung beside their bodies, and several carried crude stone hammers large enough to crush a section of the castle wall. They were siege weapons given legs.

Behind them were hundreds of mounted creatures. Caius initially thought they were orcs until he saw their size.

Goblins.

Five hundred goblin riders sat upon enormous warboars, their small bodies covered in leather and scrap armor. Spears and hooked blades rested in their hands while the boars stomped impatiently against the ground.

The entire army was organized around a single massive banner. Beneath it stood the leader of the horde.

The Orc Warlord was enormous even among his own kind. His name was Krag’gath, a broad-shouldered creature whose body was covered in scars from countless battles. Heavy iron plates protected his chest and shoulders, while a massive two-handed axe rested against his side. His tusks were decorated with metal rings, and a dark red cloak hung from his back.

Beside him stood the shaman. Her name was Morga, an older orc woman whose body was covered in ritual markings. Bones and teeth hung from her clothing, and a staff made from twisted black wood rested in her hand. A cluster of animal skulls had been tied around its head, their empty eye sockets staring toward the castle.

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Morga slowly raised her staff, and the orc army fell silent. The sudden silence was more frightening than the noise had been.

Cullum’s hand tightened around the stone battlement. Caius could feel the mana gathering around the shaman even from the castle walls.

”Father,” Caius whispered.

”I see her,” Cullum replied.

Caius focused his eyes, awakening the Eye of the Loom.

The world changed. The thousands of orcs became a sea of faint energy. Mana moved through their bodies in different patterns, revealing the strength of individual warriors. Some burned brightly, while others were little more than flickering sparks.

Then Caius looked toward Krag’gath. The warlord’s mana was enormous, moving through his body like a raging fire, dense and powerful enough that Caius instinctively felt the danger.

His gaze shifted toward Morga. The shaman’s mana was different. It was not as physically overwhelming as the warlord’s, but it was concentrated and strangely turbulent. Energy gathered around her staff and flowed through her body in complex patterns that Caius struggled to understand.

Caius broke his concentration, the sight becoming overwhelming.

Cullum noticed immediately. ”Do not stare too long.”

Caius nodded and returned his attention to the battlefield.

Below them, the defenders were taking their positions. There were only one hundred trained men-at-arms defending the castle. Most of them had been given warbows and were positioned along the walls so they could assist the twenty dedicated archers. The castle’s limited numbers meant that every trained soldier had to contribute wherever he was needed.

Behind them stood another two hundred people who had chosen to remain: civilians, former mercenaries, hunters, farmers, and smiths. They were men who had never considered themselves soldiers until the day they were asked to decide whether they would abandon their home. They had stayed, and they had been given whatever weapons the castle could spare. Some held spears, while others carried swords, axes, bows, and farming tools sharpened into weapons.

Caius and Cullum moved toward the western section of the battlements where the castle’s warbows had been prepared. Cullum took one of the heavy bows and tested the string before reaching for a bundle of arrows. Caius stood beside him and picked up another. The weapon felt heavier than the practice bows he had used during training, built for war to send arrows across considerable distances with enough force to penetrate armor.

Cullum looked at his son. ”Today, you will not shoot at the army.”

Caius looked toward the advancing orcs. ”What should I shoot?”

”Targets,” Cullum pointed toward the approaching horde. ”Do not waste arrows on shields or armor. Use your Far Sight. Find the openings.”

Caius nodded.

The orc army began moving. At first, it was slow. Thousands of feet disturbed the earth as the horde advanced across the clearing, making the ground tremble beneath them. The stone golems followed behind the main army, their massive feet striking the earth with heavy impacts. The goblin warboars moved along the flanks, their riders keeping pace with the advancing horde.

Caius raised his warbow and drew the string back. The Eye of the Loom awakened.

His vision changed as the battlefield filled with countless mana signatures. The orcs were no longer simply bodies moving across the field; their mana revealed their weaknesses.

Caius focused on one. The orc carried a shield, but the mana around its body revealed an opening beneath the arm. He released the arrow. It crossed the distance and struck the orc beneath the shield, sending the creature crashing to the ground.

Caius immediately drew another arrow. Cullum fired beside him, his arrow striking an orc through the neck.

The father and son continued firing. They did not shoot randomly; each arrow was chosen, and each target was selected. Their Far Sight locked onto the mana cores of individual orcs, allowing them to track targets even as the battlefield became crowded. Whenever an orc exposed a weakness, an arrow was already waiting.

Caius fired again, and another orc fell. Cullum released an arrow, then another. Their shots created a deadly rhythm along the battlements as the two Macraes picked apart the advancing ranks. Caius felt the strain of maintaining Far Sight, but the cultivation of the past three days had given him enough control to keep the vision active while firing.

Beside them, another bowstring snapped.

Caius glanced to the side. Sereth stood several paces away. The dark elf had removed his cloak and allowed it to fall behind him, revealing the black leather light armor beneath. His movements were completely different from the lazy figure Caius usually saw wandering around the castle. There was no trace of the loafer.

Sereth drew his bow with effortless precision. His first arrow struck an orc in the eye. Before the body had fallen, another arrow was already in flight, striking another target through the throat.

Caius stared for a moment. Sereth did not seem to be rushing. He simply watched, selected a target, and fired. Every movement was economical, and every arrow found a vulnerable point. The dark elf’s expression remained calm as he continued defending the walls.

Caius finally understood why his father trusted him. Sereth had spent decades scouting the mountains around Castle Precipice, and today, the loafer had finally decided to work.

The first ranks of the orcs reached the stream, and the defenders opened fire. Dozens of arrows descended from the walls, striking the warriors attempting to cross the water. Some fell into the stream while others pushed forward, using their shields to protect themselves from the barrage.

Caius and Cullum continued firing, their targets becoming more important: orc warriors carrying ladders, orcs carrying ropes, and orcs directing the movement of the others. Every time Caius found one, he released an arrow. Every time Cullum saw another, his bow answered. The defenders fought from the walls while the horde poured toward the castle.

Then the stone golems reached the stream. Their massive bodies entered the water without slowing, the ground trembling beneath their weight.

Caius lowered his bow for a moment and stared at them. The largest of the golems raised its enormous stone hammer.

Cullum saw it too. ”Keep firing.”

Caius turned back toward the orcs. The horde was coming, the castle walls would soon be tested, and the battle for Castle Precipice had only just begun.