Not bad.
The garrison had used oil for dipping their arrows in the first few attacks to set the ships alight but had run out the previous night. There was little left to help repel the ships’ advances, only the defences of the port itself and the men of the garrison still standing.
The piers in the bay had all been wound back into the walls, their iron portcullis gates sealed shut. The only way the invaders would make landfall at Port Denarim would be to go over the walls.
Cendel knew this was probably going to be the last night of fighting, one way or another. He held on to the few slivers of hope still remaining that he would see Enoia and little Rastin again.
One hundred yards out.
The shots were becoming easier to land, but the men were now in range of the Imperial crossbows as well.
Cendel spotted a crossbowman lining up a shot. He fired first, sending an arrow straight through the front and back of the Akurai soldier’s helmet with a spray of blood.
The Imperials armour shone green and black, lit by torch and moonlight. They stomped up and down and bashed their breastplates to try and sound menacing, standing taller than any man.
Other crossbowmen ran to the bows of their long ships. Bolts began whizzing past the walls. Cendel ducked. Several men to his side were hit and flung backwards. They were quickly replaced by others.
Cendel drew an arrow before taking up his position again and firing. Another hit.
There was a loud, metallic clink sound from beside him. Cendel eyed the man standing next to him, a bearded acquaintance named Donn. Donn shuddered, thinking he’d been hit. He swiftly removed his helmet and spotted a large dent and streak in the temple where a bolt had hit but ricocheted off the metal.
“That was lucky,” Cendel said. “Most bolts pierce metal armour.”
“Too damn right!” Donn cheered joyously, thankful to have been so lucky. He laughed out loud.
Another bolt came out of nowhere, striking Donn through the back of his unarmoured head. A shower of skull fragments and bloody chunks spurted out as it broke through his head like it was nothing.
Donn dropped like a bag of sand.
Cendel closed his eyes, wiping the brain matter from his face. Damn.
Stunned, he looked back out over the battlement.
Fifty yards out.
The garrison had failed to stop the advancing ships. They would be on the walls within minutes.
A war horn sounded from behind.
“Archers, retreat. Take up secondary defence positions. Infantry, replace the archers on the wall!”
“Alright, let’s go,” Cendel called out to his comrades.
He did not want to be the idiotic brave soldier who stood their ground, ignoring the retreat. He wanted to survive the night. The archers around him fired their last volley before turning and fleeing down the steps of the seawall, back into the town.
Crossbow bolts sliced through the air. Some pierced the stone walls. Some found their mark in the bodies of defenders. It was a harrowing feeling. Cendel anticipated to feel a bolt strike his own body at any moment.
The archers took to any elevated positions they could find- watchtowers, building windows, rooftops. The infantry of the garrison raced to fill the void left by the archers on the seawalls. Most did not bother with shields this time; the melee was going to be close range and violent.
Cendel raced through the street to find Sergeant Reneda, pushing through soldiers and around groups of reinforcements.
Baron Jun Pica had been commanding the defence of Port Denarim until the previous night, when he was struck with a spear and plummeted from the seawall into the ocean.
Sergeant Reneda was now the highest-ranking commander. He was inexperienced, and Cendel knew the men was not thrilled to be in command. But none of them wanted to be there fighting to protect their homes and their lives.
Nothing like this had been faced by the men of Port Denarim before.
He needs my support. Now more than ever.
Cendel found Reneda at the base of the Port Tower ordering his men into position. The obelisk-shaped tower shot up a hundred yards into the sky, its smooth sides glistening in the moonlight. At its peak had an open space within, where archers continued firing.
“Send more archers into the Port Tower- we need eyes over the bay! We will only be using the stakes as a last resort if they overwhelm the walls.”
Reneda was clearly stressed- his face was dripping with sweat, and his moustache was twitching as he spoke. But he took the role well. He had a loud, booming voice, and his presence was that of a leader.
Doom was upon them all. From word of mouth along the Broken Coast, the Akurai were vicious fighters who took no prisoners and spared no others.
Bowmen sprinted into the Port Tower’s entrance before beginning their climb up the winding stairs in the interior of the structure.
“Ser,” Cendel said, catching his breath. “The Akurai ships will soon make contact.”
As he finished his sentence, a monumental crash came from the bay. And then another. The ships were ramming into the walls and coming to a sudden stop. The very ground the soldiers stood on vibrated.
“Sooner than I expected, ser.”
Reneda nodded just once before shouting orders to the walls. “Prepare for ladders, men!”
The defending forces had been able to avoid any sort of melee up until this night. With resources dwindling and exhaustion running rampant, the men could not hold them off as successfully as they had been, and they would shortly be scaling the walls.
Reneda grabbed Cendel by the arm. “You’re no use down here. Grab a
