Comets of fire leapt out of the fog of the blizzard, cutting through the wind and whipping flurries in their trails of smoke. They arched out of the trees and over the lake, painting the night sky with their fury that reflected across the black surface of the water in waves of red and orange. Each strike pounded into the iron plates covering the wood walls with fiery explosions that rocked the entire castle.

  Below the Hall, Alice was fighting against wildly shaking bones that made her barely hold onto the young girl she clutched between two of the wide wash barrels. She couldn’t hear her own shouts for the others to keep back and their heads down as the gates to the little port were slowly opened. Arrows were flying through it. Some plunged into the water before reaching the docks. Others were skidding across its surface and sticking into the barrels around them the moment the gates began opening for the line of tortoise boats filled with the men who would row out onto the lake to face them. She watched the reflection of those fiery comets across the ripples of water. The rumble of those strikes against the precarious structure above them quaked into tidal waves of ice water over her feet. She held tighter onto the girl.

  The tortoise boats rowed out into smokey fog, out into the rippling trails of orange and red, into the raining fire and windy flurries of snow, with ice scraping in tiny rolling sheets against their hulls. Even with it still being night, they rowed out and let loose arrows that looked like shooting lines from those stripes of the rounded roofs the moment they cleared the cover of the hall above them. The first boat turned to the side to let the other through. The second turned the opposite way. The third went straight.

  “Hurry up, get them in the water,” the Cleric shouted to his knights tipping the flat-bottomed boats into the water where arrows flew. The moment the first plunged off the dock with a splash, he yelled to a line of knights, “Get in! Move! Shields up, heads down, archers in the middle. Load, load, load.”

  Alice felt fingers tighten on her shoulder by the girl behind her. Flames spilled over the gate. Bits of debris from an impact splashed bloodied water from the wash barrels over their huddled backs. She took a peak over the girl at the men trying to push the next boat off the docks. The first rowed toward the gates. Men were falling out of it from the arrows despite their shields up to cover them. The second hit the water and more knights jumped into it as others struggled to pull a third across the docks toward the edge. That one tipped. One of the boat builders twiste off the side of the dock, floundering for a hold before plunging into the freezing water.

  “It’s stuck!” She heard one of them shout over the roar of the chaos. Others were yelling to save the man struggling to keep his head above the violent waves of the lake.

  “Help him!” Alice shouted to a group of her helpers who were hiding behind some stacks closer to where he had fallen over. Another quaking of the Hall. The boards beneath their feet shook. She tapped the girl in front of her and called to all the women around her, “Come on, help them!”

  They kept hunched over as they rushed across where arrows bounced from the lake surface into the wood and stone across their path. One of them was thrown from her feet by an arrow. She was dragged back by another to their hiding spot as the rest reached the knights toiling with the third boat. Alice threw all her weight into the underside of it beside the Cleric, who had also rushed to help lift it over the debris knocked in its path by the bombardments.

  The man in the water was pulled out by the group on the other side. The stacks they had been hiding between toppled over from yet another thunderous impact. The second boat was crushed in half by falling fiery debris. Armored knights climbed and clawed to stay on the floating halves. They crried out for those who scrambled along the docks to jump into the fishing boats and reach them before they disappeared beneath the glassy waves of black and orange reflections.

  Alice had to rest for a breath, along with everyone else trying to lift the heavy boat, her mind fighting to steer away from collapsing in on itself at the sight of those gauntlets grasping for air until the waves consumed them.

  “On my order…Lay-ho,” The Cleric called, turning his back against the underside of the boat to lift with his legs. Alice copied him. “Heave!”

  All at once, they lifted the boat up by what felt like barely a hair, her teeth grinding. Her back was scraping raw.

  “Push!”

  She nearly fell sideways with the boat as it went over. The Cleric shoved her back before she fell with a loud thanks and a quick huddle to cover her from another quaking bombardment. All around him, despite seeing the last boat sinking with all who had been inside of it, the knights were leaping into it and frantically rowing toward the gates. She gaped, awestruck.

  “Two more!” He called out while still staying hunched over, between her and the direction of the arrows coming through those gates. “Go! Next!”

  There was no place that Aurie felt was safe for the babies and children anymore. She moved them to the infirmary from the apartments that were above the Hall the moment they sounded the first alarm of the bombardment. She was thankful they were nearly across the bailey when the first one struck. It shook the castle so violently that the guard sounding the alarm from the tower had to be pulled from falling out of it. Her heart beat in her ears. She rushed to gather any other children she could find and get them out of the Hall with the help of Isabella and Melissa plus whoever else of the house staff they could find. It had happened so suddenly. She was still trying to understand what was happening around her as she carried Jacob in a sprint out into the freezing snowstorm through the bailey.

  “Where’s Maud?” Adrian caught up with her moments after she rushed out from leaving Jacob with Melissa.

  Aurie winced. she wished she didn’t have to think about that, too. The bailey was pure chaos around them. Lines of buckets being carried to the walls. Knights and soldiers were rushing to the walls while others were flooding around them to maneuver and turn the trebuchets. Villagers were all around them trying to wade through them in panics at the same time. Fires and debris were crashing from over the Hall and the tops of the walls with every quaking strike.

  She ducked as bits down on her from behind. They’re coming from that way, too? “She’s fine! Worry about you and yours. Have you seen Draka?”

  Adrian ducked from another fly of debris, this time from the ferry gate with a touch of icy shards and splashes. “He’s on the walls,” he pointed. “My sister?”

  “Theresa’s in there, she’s safe.”

  “No, the other one,” Adrian then tapped his helmet at her. “And get your armor on and never take your helmet off.” He rubbed the dent. “Trust me.”

  Aurie ran her hand through her disheveled hair. She nodded. Then, “I think Jasmine’s with your mother in the Hall gathering the rest of the children.”

  “Thanks,” Adrian started that way, turning back to her, “Get your armor on!”

  Aurie looked down at her chemise with a worried frown. Another blast of fiery debris shook the castle in front of her and she swallowed down her panic. She sprinted for the armory.

  Draka climbed over the railing of the tower and onto the roof. The Hall shuddered again and again from the trebuchets that had been set in the forests on either side of the lake. The village across the drawbridge and its trenches were being bombarded by ones that were still too far away to reach from that direction. Just like the opposite side that once had been where he lived. It was as if meteors were being thrown across the night sky through the swirling snow flurries.

  He trampled through the snow along the spine of the roof, keeping low and waving his gloved gauntlets along in front of him in case he slipped. The shuddering of the hall beneath his feet made him slip. He kicked snow out from either side as he scrambled for hold, but he kept going. He came to the edge of the roof overlooking the bailey. He whistled with two fingers in his teeth down at the chaos below.

  The trebuchets were still being rotated. They had only enough room for two inside the bailey, which wasn’t enough. There were three on the other side of the drawbridge, and five more between the first and second trenches, already lobbing their own loads of debris as quickly as they could be loaded. Below, Enya was following with the rotation of the one turning towards the forest behind the fishery. She was marking calculations on a paper in her palm as they went. She periodically looked up at the sky between ducks from the debris that splashed over them.

  He whistled to get her attention again, barely catching himself as another strike to the Hall almost knocked him off his feet. That time made her look up. He threw his hands at her. What is taking so long?

  “We’re almost ready!” Enya called up to him.

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  He rolled his hand at her. Hurry up!

  The wind was making the snow stick to the side of him. He hoped she got the arithmetic right. She practically had the trebuchet stopped with it aimed at the side of the lake where nothing was coming from yet.

  He turned toward his old house and grimaced. The first of the three trenches was a scatter of flames and smoke through the white of fog and drifting snow. Steel glinted between blasts of blue and red light. Tendrils of black climbed from it. Screams and clashes of steel blended with the upheaval of the maelstrom surrounding him. Catapults were making small explosions of black dirt leap from the fog beyond where the trenches were. He could see the curved lines of ballista javelins flying. The trench was holding, he sighed with relief and edged his way back to the tower.

  “The first wave reached the shore but they’re caught under the fishery,” Qasim turned his spyglass toward it when Draka climbed back over the rail of the tower.

  He ducked under the javelin being loaded into the ballista on his way to Qasim’s side. The loader cranked the side of the ballista as two knights turned the turret. Once they had it where the Cleric had commanded them, the knight pulled the lever. The javelin launched across the lake, curving slightly to the wind. Draka had to narrow his eyes to follow it as he listened. Another javelin was loaded.

  “The others are landing off course,” Qasim pointed.

  Draka could barely see the wide boat loaded with knights and archers shooting arrows from the middle of them through the thickness of the blizzard. Ice was beginning to pelt the tower roof along with the snow as he watched. The fog thinned enough that he could see the tortoise boats escorting it, arrows flying from their stripe openings. And theirs weren’t the only arrows flying across the lake. Archers were in the tree line surrounding the fishery and the smoldering stilted houses, knocking one after another from within the boat before they even reached the shore. He bit his lip as his jaw tightened.

  The Cleric let the javelin fly and, this time, Draka was able to follow it in that curve across the lake. It struck the shield wall with crushing velocity. Several of the shield bearers flew back as the boat scraped onto the shore. The knights quickly formed their own line and charged into the flank of the remaining shield wall. The Cleric in the tower sent another javelin their way to stop the other flank from crashing in on them. It would be another minute or two before the next boat reached the shore, but at least they were nearly there.

  “There! Hopefully, they can keep that one from sinking on his way back for his second load,” Qasim nodded with a hopeful grin, lowering the spyglass to hand it to Draka so he could see.

  Draka held it up, looking first at those knights overtaking the shore. They were finishing off those there and running along it to get to those at the fishery. A few went into the forest to cut down the archers or stayed and finished off any of the enemies who were still alive from their skirmish. He followed the lake shore to the fishery, having to turn from the spyglass with a wince when a barrage of fiery boulders crossed his vision. They were from the hidden trebuchets in the forest to quake his feet from their impacts into the walls above the port gates.

  He waited for the next two that came out of the tops of the trees before lifting the spyglass to look at the fishery. The fishery fire had been put out long before fully burning it down, thankfully. Enough of the structure was intact to give the group of knights cover beneath it. But they were waist deep in the icy water, fending off volleys of arrows and couldn’t take a step out without being instantly brought down by them. He turned back to those rushing along the shore. There were fewer of them now. The volleys coming out of the trees were as numerous as the flurries and ice in the wind. The next boat of knights was rowing against the wild waters of the lake to get reach them. More arrows arced to reach them, sending one after another over the side, splashing into the water.

  Draka lowered the spyglass with a glower as a thunderous shuddering cast snow over him from the tower canopy like dust. He shoved it into Qasim’s chest. Had he listened to Maud and not tried to do things his way, this wouldn’t have happened. They would be able to reach those trebuchets without obstacles. They wouldn’t be trying to get soldiers across a lake to do an amphibious attack to light frozen oil. They wouldn’t be dying for such an idiotic mistake.

  Qasim took the spyglass, avoiding his eyes. “We’ll get it lit. I know we will.”

  Draka glared, waiting for him to look up. He was drawn away from it as a rolling shape rose from the bailey and arched over the tower toward the fishery. Finally, he turned his glare to follow it. It plumed in the water, shy of the shore by several meters.

  Someone on the wall shouted into the bailey, “Eighteen high!”

  Enya echoed, “Eighteen!”

  A moment later, another was launched, this time striking a little closer but still a few meters away. The same man on the wall called down, “Try ten more!”

  “Ten!” Enya called.

  Draka was leaning over the rail, waiting. The knights on the shore were fighting near the fishery in a skirmish with another shield wall, no longer fending off volleys of arrows. Those beneath the fishery were able to get a few out to join them. Most of them were still stuck beneath it, but at least a few were out and joining the fight.

  Enya sent another arching over the tower, reaching high over the lake. It came down through one of the stilted houses that, like the Fishery, had escaped being fully burnt down because of the blizzard. The knights under the fishery took the opportunity to flood out from beneath it. They rushed to join the others in their skirmish, overtaking their enemies. Behind them, the next two boats of soldiers were reaching the shore to reinforce them.

  The next barrage from the trees that crossed the lake had changed from the last. It took Draka’s attention from those on the shore. It had changed its arch.

  “Take cover!” Qasim tackled him to the ground as the three manning the ballista scrambled to pull its pins and take it down with them.

  The tower filled with black smoke, clogging their lungs instantly. Cinders and debris plumed. Bits of wood crumbled over top of them. Snow sizzled and rained through the debris. Qasim sat back from on top of Draka with an upward glance and a smile. The roof of the tower was only dented inward with a few splintered boards and crossed beams that had cracked.

  “I guess they don’t like it when we hit back,” Qasim chuckled.

  “Two left!”

  Enya echoed it and another went out of the bailey. It destroyed the second stilted house beside the heap of ruins. Knights quickly cut through the archers trying to claw out of it. Another shout and the last house was laid waste before her next barrage reached over the knights charging from the shore into the forest.

  That one, Draka noticed, wasn’t just a boulder. It had small canisters attached to its sides. When it struck just within the tree line, it burst with smoke and bounced into the trees with loud pops. Trees thrashed away as if trying to escape from whatever caused those pops. The fiery barrages from their batteries stopped.

  Enya sent more, further into the forest. Each time, they were followed by three or four popping sounds. One after another, they launched from the bailey out and over the lake, and not one came their way, always followed by those loud popping sounds that echoed between the swaying trees. Finally, there was a loud boom resounding from the forest.

  “Try three right,” they called from the wall.

  Enya echoed and adjusted her next shot. Only pops, no boom. “Two and seven.” Pops, no boom. “Two and five.” Pops, no boom. “Two and three.” Pops and another resounding boom. “Try zero and three right.” Pops and a resounding boom.

  “She figured out their battery staging, clever beast!” Qasim cheered. “That should give them enough time to get those fires going!”

  Draka smiled through his grimace. He turned to see over the bailey toward the forest opposite that one, where they were doing the same. Smoke had begun billowing out of the woods, climbing from the trees. They had finally gotten the oil to light on the southern side. He looked back to the fishery side and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a single cloud of smoke rising to join the rushing winds of the blizzard.

  Hopefully the winds will stoke the fires rather than put them out, Draka found his smile fading even as more pockets of smoke billowed from within the sea of trees.

  The village and the trenches, however, were a different sort of battle altogether. The trenches were still repelling the waves of the soldiers that were rushing at them. They were getting tangled in their barbed barricades, under the constant barrages of arrows and catapults. It was forcing them to funnel into a corridor that negated their numbers and was filled with mud and sheets of iron spikes. The hills that once stood with towers meant to be the entrances to the village were now crested with trebuchets pounding at those trenches, unreachable from their elevated positions, but able to strike nearly to their rearmost trench. They had to hold. The second trenches were the marker. Once those fell, they would be within range of their enemy's Dragon’s Tails and it would all be over.

  They had to hold.

  God, if it is Your Will, help us, Draka drew in a breath as he watched one such Dragon’s Tail arch and fall on the trench nearest his old house. The explosion rocked the ground, sending a wave across the lake and a vibration so intense that it punched him in his chest. He wavered and gripped the rail to keep his eyes on the trench. He refused to look away from its fate, even as they charged down the hill in a mass of steel reflecting the flames littering the battlefield.

  Blue flashes met red ones in thunderous claps. Lightning danced above the trench. Draka pursed his brows. Those from the second trench were pouring into it to take their place. Many of the Paladins with them were carried by the brilliant blue light of the Holy Spirit through the air to smite their unholy equals attempting to overtake them.

  Someone from within the trench climbed out and threw a fire tipped canister up and over the hill before being felled by an arrow. The explosion beyond the hill lit up the horizon as bright as the coming of morning, engulfing the launching rail for the Dragon's Tails and its crew. It sent a ripple in the wind flowing across the battlefield. A mushroom of smoke climbed into the sky in a whirlwind of blue and red flames.

  “God’s with us,” The Cleric said with relief through his dread at the sight.

  Draka nodded. But even he knew, they would have more and they would be sure to never let that mistake happen again.