the second voice. “But I have been wrong before.”
Having had enough, I go back to bed with my head spinning in turmoil. The exact thoughts had been hurling through my head only minutes before I heard them spoken. To hear them spoken breaks me.
Within the next few minutes, I somehow find sleep. My dreams are of chaos and mayhem, so rest brings little consolation to my weary mind.
The next morning I am awoken abruptly by the deep blaring of a war horn.
The Battle Begins
Every one of us dons our armor in frenzy, strapping on swords, shields, and quivers. At the last minute I decide to bring my bow, strapping it to my back and simply carrying my warhammer. We burst out of the bunkrooms and into the hall, where every man is running towards the front gate of the Keep.
Somehow in the chaos we manage to stay together as a group: my father and Nathaniel, Percival, James, Jericho, their fathers, Leon, and Bownan. In what seems like seconds we rush over the steps out of the Keep and into the streets of Terrace, where we continue until we reach the front gate of the city. The warhorn blares the whole time, until this point. The enormous torches are flaring brightly, casting orange light all about the cliff sides. The sun has yet to rise.
My group stays down, behind and to the left of the gate. Nathaniel salutes to us and says, “I’ll see you later.” Then he runs up the stairs onto the wall, and then into a doorway that leads through the mountain and into the left Clifftower.
It only takes another minute for all the other men to take position. Then all stand silently at their posts, waiting for it to begin.
Suddenly there is a warhorn. It’s different from ours; it comes from the other side of the gate and has a harsh, straight tone. The yells and cries of many men follow it, creating a horrible roar. Then suddenly it stops.
“What’s going on?” somebody behind me whispers.
Then it begins.
We unleash a volley of arrows from the wall and towers. Their archers retaliate, but I’m assuming with much less success. I see very few bodies drop from the wall.
My thoughts turn to Nathaniel. He’ll be fine, I convince myself. He’ll be fine.
At this point there’s really not much I can do. I just wish that I could see what was going on outside the gate.
“Shoot down the ram carriers!” I hear. Then, above the shouting, I hear a sharp CRACK! The gate budges inward slightly, but springs back and bounces slightly. “Brace the gate!” I hear. Then a swarm of men crowds against the gate, pressing against it. The sharp noise comes again and the gate shakes. The crowd of men is pushed back by the force, but they rebound. All the while arrows zing from the wall and the Clifftowers; we are receiving fairly few arrows in return.
“I have to see,” I mutter to my father. Before he can stop me I run up the stairs to the top of the wall. The sight is chilling.
The army stands on the enormous bridge connecting the city to the rest of the world. Most of them have large rectangular shields held above them to block arrows. A great many of them lie dead in front of the gate, though there are plenty to take their place. Arrows pierce them where there armor is weak: at the neck and armpit. Some standing on the sides of the bridge are hit with such force that they fall over the edge to the river far below.
Their ram is doing little damage. Those who carried it in are now buried underneath their fellow soldiers. Many are being shot down, but the ram is always picked up and hurled back into the gate.
Then I notice that our arrows are not only coming from the tops of the wall and towers, but from inside of them as well. Tall narrow slit-like windows line the Clifftowers and the wall. Enemy arrows clack harmlessly around them, but our arrows shoot with deadly accuracy from within. Similarly, our archers on top take cover behind crenellations.
Two objects at the other end of the bridge part the enemy army. The men move aside, cheering and shouting as they pass them.
As the things come closer, I realize they’re each being pushed by two large humanoid creatures.
“Where did they get trolls?” I hear someone mutter.
They’re about ten or eleven feet tall, even though