Here goes nothing.
He had designed the catapult to be maneuverable and light, and he had erected it using a trailer he’d found in the boat shed. It allowed him to wheel the weapon around and point it at the rear approach.
For ammunition, he’d cut blocks of wood from the heaviest trees—beech mostly—and piled them together into a stockpile. He grabbed the first one now and hefted it into the basket.
“Fire in the hole, you ugly shitbags.”
Ted yanked the pitchfork from the ropes and stepped back. The tandem ropes untwisted rapidly, lifting the basket into the air faster and faster. At the top, the basket arm hit a crossbar and the block of wood launched into the air.
The catapult was less powerful than he’d hoped, and the block of wood didn’t get much air. It sailed over the teenager’s heads and only just cleared the wall. But the sound it made on the other side was gruesome, flesh and bone breaking. It had been a successful hit.
Ted wheeled the catapult closer and loaded it again. This time the wooden block sailed over the wall easily and resulted in that same glorious sound of demons being crushed and mutilated.
The teenagers turned back and grinned at him, revealing their delight at whatever they were seeing on the other side of the wall. He had brought them some breathing room. Now he needed to do the same for Frank.
Ted raced across the courtyard with his hammer but stopped at the old well. Kamiyo and Aymun were there, tending to a badly wounded Philip.
“Shite, is he going to make it?”
Kamiyo nodded, although he didn’t seem convinced. “I stopped the bleeding.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Philip batting the doctor away. “Just keep those monsters outside.”
Ted chuckled. “I’ll do my best. You got things here, Doc?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Soon as Philip is stable, Aymun and I will be right on the walls beside you.”
“Good man.” Ted raced up the steps to join Frank on the front wall. The teenagers were like automatons, moving in rhythm—notch, pull, release, notch, pull, release.
Frank was sweating. “Ted,” he said, a breathlessness to his voice. “This is really happening, ain’t it?”
“Maybe there’s still time for all of this to be a dream. I’m ready to wake up. How are things going at this end?”
“Take a butcher’s yowself.”
Ted looked over the wall and was shocked to see the ditch filled with demon corpses—a hundred or more. Arrows stuck out of them like porcupine quills.”
“They die whenever they touch the gate,” said Frank. “Just drop down dead.”
Ted saw what Frank meant. Slumped against the portcullis was a second, smaller pile of smouldering bodies. It was like they had been electrocuted by the iron.
“Well, that’s a turn up for the books. Maybe this will all blow over in time for tea.” But as Ted scanned the front approach, he wasn’t so sure. There might be a hundred dead demons piled at the gate, but there were several hundred more on their way. The ditch was full of bodies, which meant the ground was once again solid.
Ted studied the piles of arrows at the teenager’s disposal and estimated they would run out before the job was even halfway done. He put a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Time to light ‘em up.”
Frank nodded. “Alright, warriors, time to rain fire.”
One teenager struck a match and ignited a small bowl of petrol. The other teenagers ceased grabbing their arrows from the main pile and pulled them instead from a smaller pile wrapped in moss and brambles. They dipped each fuzzy arrowhead into a canister of petrol and then lit them on the flaming bowl.
All at once, the teenagers leant over the wall and loosed their arrows, not at the demons, but at predesignated spots Ted had assigned them. The front approach had been soaked in petrol.
The grassy slope burst into flames, smothering a dozen demons in fire while trapping others between the stake walls. The wooden stakes caught fire too, and would reduce to cinders in time, but the loss was worth it.
Ted watched the demons burn with a grim smile on his face. Was this what war felt like—the only happiness was that of watching an enemy die?
With things under control, Ted needed to get back to the catapult. This siege would be a balancing act of trying to protect each side and letting neither fall. So far it was going well.
He hurried down the steps and back into the courtyard. Kamiyo and Aymun were on their feet now, with Philip resting against the well. All three men looked towards the castle—or rather at the person stumbling out of it.
Ted skidded in the dirt and stared in disbelief. “Nathan? W-What have you done?”
Nathan’s face was a mask of blood, a wide gash above his left eyebrow. He looked lost, disorientated, but when he saw Ted standing there, he seemed to gain his senses. “S-She needs help,” he muttered.
Ted was lost for words, so Kamiyo took over. “What? Who needs help, Nathan?”
But Ted already knew. He charged at the boy, hammer raised above his shoulder. “What the fuck did you do? Where’s Hannah?”
Nathan didn’t defend himself. He just stood there looking bewildered. “She’s in the dungeon. She needs help.”
Before Ted could crush the boy’s skull, Aymun and Kamiyo bustled Nathan out of the way. Kamiyo put himself in harm’s way and pointed to the castle.
“Go find her, Ted. I’ll be right behind
