The trebuchets kept their rhythm.
Boom. Crack. Flames.
The sky was painted orange as spiked fireballs smashed against the battlements. Soldiers ducked under crude stone shields, their bodies tensed with a silent prayer that the next one wouldn't be theirs. The injured were dragged down from the upper wall, groaning, missing limbs, their armor peeled off with knives so it could be reused. Some didn't even scream anymore, their throats too raw from a hundred battles.
"Get those wounded down! Don't let 'em clog the stairs!" a commander's voice roared.
"Surgeon! We need a surgeon here, damn it—his leg's gone!"
"Brace the line! Replace the dead!"
