Four hash marks.
“Four,” Jularra said softly.
The noise of the city seemed stifled.
“Four thousand,” Jularra said again. She looked at Melcayro while silently steeling her resolve.
“That’s twice the initial estimate of Latham’s forces,” Melcayro said flatly.
Jularra shrugged off the added threat.
“Time to get to work,” she said to her four Ridgerazer captains. “Do not let those siege weapons get in range. We’ll take care of the infantry.”
Jularra smiled at her advisors—my friends—before turning back towards the gatehouse. As she climbed up to the top once more, she saw the majority of her infantry break off to meet Latham’s approaching forces.
Morganon fell silent as it settled into the final peaceful moments before the next battle. Jularra listened to the shouts of captains and commanders repositioning portions of the infantry out in the valley. As the soldiers marched further south, the orders became fainter until she could barely hear them at all.
Behind her, inside the city walls, the commotion of wagons and civilians receded as people sought shelter. The city was once again prepared for battle, and to sustain whatever death and destruction the second wave might bring. Runners sped back and forth, carrying quivers full of arrows and buckets of stones to be thrown. All thoughts that distracted from Jularra’s battle mindset drained away. Right then, there was no Korden. No lost baby. No Voidwarden. No pact. Her mind was fully dedicated to the preservation of her people and her city.
Jularra summoned a nearby Spire. “Ride out and find Vischuno or Wona. One of them should be near that lead column. Tell them to send a rider ahead to Latham’s people. Tell them that Latham has been executed. If they return home, or agree to help dispatch the Torgurians, their transgression will be forgiven.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The Spire nodded and sprinted off.
Jularra turned to a nearby Bedrock.
“Get word up to that southern tower that we’re going to try to negotiate with Latham’s armies, and to signal any change in their posture. Understood?”
“Yes, of course, my queen. Right away.”
As the Bedrock ran on the heels of the Spire with his mission, a great thwump erupted behind Jularra. She turned in time to see a massive fireball arcing towards the northern pass. While it was still in mid-air, Jularra looked to the pass to see the first Torgurian catapults being wheeled through.
Jularra nodded with pride in her Ridgerazers, and gratitude towards her friends for overseeing their involvement. Then the initial blast of fire landed well short of the first catapults. Before it hit the ground, another one was on its way. It, too, landed short.
Jularra flinched at the wasted energy. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called in the direction of the Ridgerazers, “Be smart, now!” But she wasn’t sure if they could hear her.
She tugged the sleeve of a nearby archer.
“Run down there, and remind them that I said to conserve their energy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the archer obliged.
Jularra watched as the young woman shot down the stairwell before tearing down the length of the wall towards the Ridgerazers.
As the archer ran with Jularra’s message, she watched two more blasts of fire launch out from the north corner turret. One fell short again; the other had better range, but landed wide of the target. It became clear that the catapults weren’t in range yet, and Jularra grew agitated at the wasted energy.
Jularra saw the archer-turned-messenger reach her destination. A few moments later Vylas and Abranni turned to look at her. Still too far away to hear her shout, Jularra shot her hands out from the sides of her head in the direction of the catapults, pointedly reminding them again to focus and not waste their energy.
There was no activity for a few minutes after the messenger arrived, and then a fresh blast of fire erupted from the northern turret at the catapults. Jularra grabbed the edge of the nearby wall’s embrasure and leaned over in anticipation.
The massive ball of flame shot through the air. Jularra whipped her head back and forth from the ball of flames to the catapults, calculating and judging its course as it flew.
That's it!
The trajectory of the mammoth globe of fire was true. The lead Ridgerazer guided it in a perfect arc to crash into the slow-moving catapult at its wide base. The catapult exploded into flaming shards and chunks of wood.
Four more catapults crested the pass, but the Ridgerazers didn’t immediately react. Jularra watched with approving eyes as the mages took their time, waiting for the catapults to slowly make their way down further into the valley. Closer they crept, the energy conjured by the Ridgerazers accumulating more slowly than before as they took greater care with their focus and calculations.
Just as the catapults came within range, the Ridgerazers unleashed a volley of fireballs. The valley was swallowed up by a curtain of fire as the flying inferno soared true, with all but one striking and destroying the latest wave of catapults.
“Your Majesty!”
Jularra turned. Far out, ahead of the lead group of Morganon infantry to the south, a horse and rider rode towards the city.
Is that our messenger?
She looked to the southern towers.
“Come on, come on,” Jularra whispered. “What do you see?”
The flags remained unchanged. Jularra looked back to the rider.
The horse was still too far away for Jularra to glean any detail, but as she watched, the rider fell. Her heart sank as the southern tower’s horn sounded. The infantry flag remained draped, but the flag to indicate the number was hoisted back up. In its place fell a flag with the image of a flat line.
Unchanged.
They’re still coming.
As the echo of the southern tower’s horn was absorbed into the mountains surrounding the valley, a nearby Bedrock screamed out in shock.
“Your Majesty! The eastern slopes! Look! Look!”
On the other side of the valley, directly opposite Morganon—and much closer to the city than the initial catapults had been—the Acorilinians watched as no less than ten artificial facades pushed out and slid away from the mountain, just
