in face or neck. He had long learned that command in battle required a certain indifference to such sights.
The arrow storm continued for another minute and then lessened, Vaelin risking another glance over the wall to see the Tuhla had come to a halt, forming a series of loose companies. They maintained their barrage whilst a mass of Redeemed infantry bearing scaling ladders streamed between the gaps in their ranks. Gauging their number was impossible with the Tuhla shafts still raining down, but he saw enough to know they faced an assault equal in scale to that already launched against the eastern flank.
“Crossbows up!” he shouted, the command echoed by sergeants and officers the length of the wall. “Aim your first volley at the riders, then lower sights to the infantry!”
There wasn’t sufficient time for his order to reach the ears of every crossbowman, but enough heard it to send a thick hail of bolts into the halted Tuhla. Riders and horses fell by the dozen, the companies losing cohesion and expanding to obstruct the charge of the Redeemed. The Tuhla arrow storm faded completely as a gap appeared between the infantry closing on the wall and those behind.
Vaelin watched a crossbowman reload his weapon with impressive efficiency. Far Western crossbows differed from those of the Realm, with a longer stave allowing for similar range to a longbow. The man placed his foot in a stirrup where the stock joined the stave, a fresh bolt clenched between his teeth as he used both hands to draw the string into the lock. He brought the weapon up, settling the stock atop his shoulder, nocking the bolt to the string and loosing with a single flick of the trigger before instantly starting the cycle over again. Vaelin tracked the bolt as it arced into the advancing Redeemed, seeing one of those bearing a ladder stumble to the ground. The ladder was swiftly recovered by a dozen of his comrades who clustered at the base of the wall to heave it into place.
Vaelin could hear their battle prayers now; the words were in the Stahlhast tongue, which jarred on the ear at the best of times and became uglier still when shouted from a fanatical throat. Officers ordered oil and rocks thrown as the ladders began to ascend and soon screams replaced prayers. Most of the ladders fell away as the crossbowmen lowered their aim further, some leaning out to loose straight down at the massing infantry below. Of the half-dozen ladders that remained in place, three were swiftly hacked clear by axe-wielding sergeants following Vaelin’s instruction to chop away the top two feet of timber. The Redeemed that attempted to scale the other ladders found themselves assailed from both sides by a hail of bolts. Barely a handful managed to reach the battlements, only to be instantly speared and thrown down. The remaining ladders were all cast away in short order, meaning the second wave of Redeemed had nothing to climb once they struggled clear of the milling Tuhla.
Despite the unceasing attentions of the crossbowmen, the Redeemed failed to retreat, instead gathering up the fallen ladders and attempting to renew their assault. All the while they chanted their mad battle prayer, Vaelin seeing several still mouthing the words even as they lay pierced and bleeding. The hot oil was exhausted but each company had been provided with a large stock of heavy stones cannibalised from houses in the lower tier. Vaelin ran along the battlement, barking orders for the stones to be cast over, and soon a torrent of rubble cascaded down onto the attackers, shattering ladders and crushing skulls. Even then the Redeemed displayed a marked reluctance to retreat, lingering in a large vulnerable mob a short remove from the walls, some throwing the remnants of the stones back at their tormentors whilst others screamed in irrational defiance.
“They remind me a bit of that Cumbraelin lot from the High Keep,” Nortah remarked, loosing an arrow that arced into the gaping mouth of one yelling Redeemed. “At least they had the good manners to die quietly.”
Vaelin had found his brother alongside Ellese at the point where the wall angled towards the northern bastion. From the few arrows remaining in their quivers, it seemed they had done a great deal of service this night. The pair soon exhausted all but their poison-tipped arrows, adding several more corpses to the growing pile of dead. Still the Redeemed continued to stand and rail at the