Counterattack (1/2)

"I can't stand this cold! Huff… Ahh, much better. Tell the cooks to prepare… a soup, yeah, soup will do." Count Edwin strode back inside his castle, the warmth embracing him immediately. A servant hurried off toward the kitchen.

"This new weapon is really something. We'll strike those pigs hard," Edwin muttered, still shaking off the cold.

"But the commander advises we use it at night when they can't see our movements," one of his advisors chimed in, trailing behind him.

They had just returned from inspecting the barracks, where the commander had made a special request for their presence.

"Yes, I agree. Tonight will be the true test. Let's pray we kill enough of them before they even realize what's happening." Edwin reached his study and sat behind his desk, settling into his chair.

"Any updates?" he asked, glancing at the standing advisors.

"I'm afraid not, my lord. The last report from the north is that our forces are slowly pushing the enemy back, but reinforcements continue to pour into the south."

"And locally, our food-gathering parties are still being harassed by small enemy groups, mostly archers."

"They're trying to starve us," Edwin spat, his frustration clear. "We can't afford to wait much longer."

"Indeed, each day brings us closer to a crisis. Soon, the people will have nothing left. And if they starve…"

"I know." Edwin's fist clenched. The silence that followed weighed heavy on the room, the impending disaster looming over them.

"We have to attack," one advisor ventured cautiously. "If we don't act soon, they'll win by simply camping outside our walls."

Edwin nodded. "You're right. Gather everyone. Tonight, we strike back."

The advisor bowed, but before leaving, Edwin added, "Any news on that man?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. Even with the church's help, we've found no trace. It's as if he vanished."

"Keep looking. If he's found, come to me first. No one else."

"As you command, milord."

Edwin sighed, sinking deeper into his chair. "Now, where's that damn soup I asked for?"

Outside, a large wagon rumbled through the city streets, escorted by soldiers. Peasants along the path craned their necks, curious about its mysterious contents, covered by a heavy cloth. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows as the wagon reached the western gate.

Three of the city's four main gates were unusable due to the siege. The western gate, however, had been selected to house the new weapon. The northern gate, meanwhile, received reinforcements.

The soldiers in the ranks whispered excitedly.

"What's the new weapon?" one asked, watching as the cloth was removed.

"A giant crossbow," someone murmured, awe in his voice.

"Father's Light!" a veteran gasped. "That thing could take down ten men in one shot!"

The rumor spread quickly. By the time the weapon was mounted on the wall, everyone had heard about the "massive crossbow that could destroy the invaders."

With the moon rising and torches extinguished to hide their movements, the city was plunged into an eerie darkness. Soldiers sharpened their blades, adjusted their armor, and took what little rest they could, preparing for the night's assault.

Hours later, deep into the night, the enemy camp was still. Most of the soldiers slept soundly in their tents, save for a few watchmen, who sat on rocks, lazily gazing at the distant walls.

"I took my boy hunting when he was five," one of them boasted. "Tracked a wild dog. Made him kill it himself."

"Get out of here!" the other laughed. "I wouldn't have won against a wild dog even when I was eight!"

"Well, I helped a bit," the man admitted, chuckling. "But it was mostly him. Brought the dog home, taught him how to skin it."

"There you go, now I believe in you. How old is he now?"

The whistle of something cutting through the air interrupted their conversation. A soft thud followed, but it seemed distant. The men exchanged uneasy glances.

"What was that?" one asked.

"Dunno. Could be the wind," the other replied, dismissing the noise. They yawned in unison, the quiet night lulling them back into complacency.

"He's 10 now and already told me he wants to be like me. Aahaha it fills my heart just remembering it."

"Man, what I wouldn't give to be back at home with my woman. Oh how I miss those huge ti-"

Another whistle and thud stopped them in their tracks. This time, it sounded closer.

They stood up, scanning the camp. A gurgling noise drifted from one of the tents. Frowning, the men approached cautiously.

"Oi! Knock it off! You'll wake everyone up!" one of the watchmen called, assuming it was a restless soldier. He noticed a small hole in the side of the tent but thought nothing of it—tent wear and tear was common.

The strange sound ceased, but an uneasy feeling gnawed at them as they returned to their post. The night air seemed colder now, more sinister.

"Hey, let's check—"

A sharp whistle, much louder this time, cut through the air. A sudden scream pierced the quiet. The men rushed to the source, finding a comrade pinned to the ground by a long wooden stake impaling his arm.

"What the hell?!"

Another dart flew through the night, striking the man's chest and silencing him. Panic gripped the watchmen as they realized what was happening.

"Horn! Blow the horn!" one yelled, fumbling for the signal horn on his belt.

In the distance, another horn blared. The enemy was attacking.

Chaos erupted in the camp as soldiers scrambled from their tents, clutching weapons and shouting orders.

"The enemy's attacking!" came the cry. "From the north and the west!"

"Gear up! Get ready!" Armor clanged and weapons were hastily drawn as men rushed to form ranks.

Another scream tore through the camp. A soldier fell to the ground, a giant dart lodged in his stomach.

"Arrows? But how?!"

Fear spread like wildfire. The soldiers couldn't see the attackers, but the deadly darts kept flying, wreaking havoc.

The commander's voice rang out, cutting through the confusion. "Is the enemy advancing on both sides?"

"Sir, the enemy is attacking our northen division and is somehow shooting arrows here at the west side."

"I need to know how is the situation there and if it's a full attack or just a distraction. Go! Move! I need that information right now!" The scout ran away.

"You, go towards the south gate and stay there in charge of that side. And you, you go to the north gate and help our troops against the enemy." Both were second and third in command after him. They nodded, mounted on their horses and darted to diferent directions.

A second later another scream followed by a soldier falling to the ground. At such distance it shouldn't be possible for arrows to reach us unless the enemy has a new type of bow or arrow.

After a minute the scout came back. "It's a full frontal attack sir! Our soldiers are already mid fight with them!"

"Then it's a distraction here. Half of you, with me! The rest, head north and push them back! We need to hold the line!"

The commander's presence quickly restored order. Soldiers split into two groups, half heading north to face the main assault, while the other half stayed behind to protect the camp.

On the western wall, the large crossbow fired repeatedly into the dark.

"They've pulled back, sir," a soldier called to the officer in charge. "What should we do now?"

The officer considered for a moment, eyes on the horizon. "Move the crossbow to the southern gate. Reinforce that side. We're not done yet."