Throughout the night, shouts of READY!, AIM!, and FIRE! filled the air as Lord Berrol’s archers rained arrows down on Galliel’s approaching forces. But as I walked along the walls the next morning, my heart fell. Despite the barrage of missiles, Galliel’s army had constructed an impressive array of ladders, trebuchets, and siege towers. The prince clearly had no interest in starving Encelas or breaking down its gates—his soldiers were going to scale the western and southern walls, and the attack was likely to come in a matter of hours.

I found Captain Rungir standing on the west wall, joined in a heated conversation with a group of officers. As I approached, a junior officer glowered at me.

“Why are you dressed as a coachman?” he asked. “Where is your armor, soldier?”

I held up a document enclosed with a wax seal. “I have a message for Captain Rungir. It’s from Lord Berrol.”

All conversation stopped. Rungir took my document, unsealed it, and started reading. He whispered, “superior arbalest,” then, “services to the crown.” His eyebrows rose, but his expression remained stolid.

“Lord Berrol thinks highly of you,” Captain Rungir said, “so I’ll allow you to join the King’s Arbalests. But the moment you break discipline or fail to follow orders, I’ll throw you in prison. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Lord Berrol says you already have a crossbow. Show me.”

I handed my crossbow to the captain, who held it at arm’s length and aimed. His eyebrows rose, and for a moment I worried that he was going to take it for himself. But he handed it back to me. “Very nice. How well acquainted are you with Lord Berrol’s order of battle?”

I shook my head. I knew a great deal about Galliel’s army, but next to nothing about the defending army. “I’m not well acquainted at all.”

“Then I’ll explain.” Captain Rungir pointed to soldiers on the walls. “The swordsmen are divided into the regular soldiers in leather armor and elite soldiers in chainmail. The elite soldiers wield enchanted silver blades, which allow them to slay darkwalkers. If Galliel’s troops get through the swordsmen, the archers and arbalests form the next line of defense. That’s us. If any troops get past us, they’ll have to deal with the mages.”

Rungir pointed east, where robed figures stood in a line along the battlement. I could just make out Lord Harad and Lord Berrol standing among them.

“If the troops get past the mages, the castle is lost. Galliel wins, we all die, and Dhok’kor’s necromancers take over the world. We’re not going to let that happen. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Are you familiar with the Whisper spell?”

“Yes,” I said, recalling my conversation with Delvorra. “Wizards use it to speak from a distance.”

“Right. Our mages will watch the battle from the battlements. They can see Galliel’s army better than we can, so during the battle, they’ll use Whisper to give us commands. Commands to be obeyed without question or hesitation. Understand?”

“When I hear a voice in my head, I’ll follow it.”

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“Excellent. Put on a tunic and stand on the south wall.”

⚔

Just before noon, Galliel’s soldiers shouted at the top of their lungs, filling the air with their lust for victory. Two fireballs flew over the west wall, which would have signaled Venabel’s followers to launch their attack, had there been any. Then the besieging ladders, siege engines, and trebuchets advanced. I stood on the south wall and counted twenty advancing towers. They appeared to have been constructed from wood, but they shone glossy black in the morning light.

Our mages in upper battlements hurled fireballs at the siege towers, yet none of them caught fire. Galliel’s necromancers must have enchanted the terrible machines.

Boulders from Galliel's trebuchets forced our soldiers back from the battlement’s edge. I desperately wanted to fight back, but given the distance, I had no chance of causing any real damage. So I waited in frustration as the towers approached.

Planks extended from the towers to the top of the city wall. The first soldiers marched forward in mechanical lockstep, each with at least ten arrows protruding from their black armor.

“Darkwalkers!” soldiers cried out. "Make way for the silver-bearers!"

While the regular soldiers kept the darkwalkers occupied, the elite soldiers drove their enchanted silver knives into the undead troops, who fell to the ground and burst into flame. I loaded a +2 silver bolt into my crossbow, but I couldn’t get a clear shot.

More darkwalkers attacked from the siege towers, and each of the monsters killed at least ten of our soldiers. As our army was forced back, I could finally see the enemy soldiers more clearly. A voice I’d never heard before whispered in my ear:

“Fire at Galliel’s soldiers when you have the opportunity. But don’t waste ammunition or strike our soldiers.”

I nodded and then ran toward the nearest darkwalker, loading a silver bolt into my crossbow. As soon as I had a clear shot at its chest, I aimed and used my Called Shot ability. “Heart.”

My bolt struck the darkwalker beneath its neck, and it burst into flame. I killed three more in the same way.

After fifteen minutes of fighting, it became clear that Galliel’s first wave of soldiers had been repulsed. But the prince didn’t pause for a moment. The next wave consisted of flesh-and-blood soldiers, which were smarter than the darkwalkers but vulnerable to regular weapons. I shot twelve of the attacking troops, and I was aiming to kill my thirteenth when I heard the voice in my ear:

“Galliel’s army is penetrating our forces in the southwest corner. Assist with the defense.”

I ran west and shot at as many besieging soldiers as I could, killing most. Given the close quarters, I used called shots to increase damage and reduce the chance of striking one of the defending troops.

Despite my efforts, a handful of Galliel’s soldiers broke through our defense. In these cases, fireballs and bolts of lightning flew from the upper battlements and sent the soldiers hurtling to the ground.

The battle proceeded in this manner for the better part of an hour, and as my voice commanded, I ran from the south wall to the west wall, and then back to the south wall. I slew enemy soldiers with regular bolts, and when darkwalkers appeared, I fired enchanted silver.

“Zombies!” soldiers cried out.

Looking out over the parapet, I spotted undead monsters staggering along the wooden planks from the siege towers. I put aside my silver bolts and started loading bolts of fire. Over half of my shots hit their targets, and whenever they did, the zombies caught fire. The remaining zombies were easily dispatched by the defending soldiers.

“Very effective,” the voice said. “Go to the western wall and help defend against the crossing zombies.”

I spent the next hour running between the walls and firing at Galliel’s soldiers, darkwalkers, and zombies. Hundreds of the city’s soldiers fell in the melee, but the defense was holding firm—so far, only a small group of Galliel’s troops came within striking distance of the mages. When they did, they received magic missiles, fireballs, and death.

I was nearly exhausted, but it seemed like we were winning, so I allowed myself to feel optimistic. Then a new type of enemy appeared. Humanoids in black robes levitated upward, their skin as white as milk. The voice in my ear sighed.

“Galliel’s foot soldiers are nearly beaten. Now we have to deal with the necromancers.”