Chapter 44

While Flint worked on improving the quality of life around the fort and make it habitable for the new residents, Winona had focused her attention on the inner and outer guard. Following her instructions, Flint had placed multiple totems throughout Woodson Territory. He had placed two of each at the top of the slope. The placements didn’t just cover the insides, bolstering the residents but all of the gardens too. Flint believed it would reinforce their food supply by helping the plants and goats grow.

Another pair sat by the moat to cover the residents living there, and the final stood between the guards’ quarters. Fortunately, Flint had recharged them not long ago. They still glowed with their full might.

“Casters and marksmen, on the wall now!” Winona exclaimed. “Brace for arcane barrage!”

Fireballs, icicles, and blasts of essence flew from the horsemen into or over the walls. They left marks on the stone but didn’t cause tremors like the hill giant’s friendly stone throw. Everyone ducked, getting away unscathed from the first attack.

Flint couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d made a mistake by not cooperating with them. He didn’t trust the Iron Army not to wrestle him for control of the fort or turn on him for housing fae. They didn’t come across as a trustworthy lot with their demands, and Stark had a predominantly negative aura about him. Flint didn’t want to risk the safety of the fae residents to appease a likely hostile force.

“Wyld casters, raise a wall!”

Emerald light illuminated the wall. It flowed down the brownie’s arms and out of their hands. Ethereal roots shot into the ground in front of the wall, forming a straight line. The soil and stone shook around the points of impact. Then ground audibly cracked. Thick, thorny vines exploded from the new openings. They spread across the ground, coiling around each other before growing upwards in a thick leaf-less hedge.

Horses bucked and neighed as they failed to stop in time, and thorns ripped into their flesh. Red added more colour to the previously bright green and brown vines. Several riders found themselves dismounted as their mounts collapsed or got tangled. A couple of screams joined the horses’ cries not long after. Arrows—Wyld and regular—fired in unison, pelting the armoured individuals. Much to Flint’s surprise, the former left dents despite iron’s power to neutralise fae magic. Flint guessed the essence had given projectiles physical form and propelled them. The arrows themselves didn’t have any magic left in them.

The Iron inquisitors started their counterattack not long after. Once enough of them had retreated from the bramble wall. Bluelake raised her staff. The sapphire atop it released a blinding light before cyan flames burst forth, bathing the vines in their light. The summoned flora didn’t catch fire. Instead, frost coated it, and ice crystals grew from them. One of the other horsemen shaped a large cone out of stone and launched it at the vines. The projectile ripped through, shattering a monstrous hole in the wall.

Flint breathed in and out deeply, not letting himself get distracted by the several dozen things going on. He fired the crossbow, aiming for an approaching inquisitor’s knee. He hoped to make them retreat. If they killed all the inquisitors, more would follow with bigger attacking forces. However, if they repelled the attackers, they would likely leave them alone and focus on the war. Moving an army across the Verdant Plains with supplies for a siege would cost too much money and manpower. If they managed to tire the attackers out or force them to retreat, they could still parley. The second someone important died, all diplomacy would go out of the window.

The bolt glanced off his target’s iron grieves, leaving a deep groove in the metal. “Try to keep the attacks non-fatal, Winona. I’d rather not have Bluelake or Stark die.”

Winona nodded and thrust her arms forward. Another stream of cyan flame shot towards them, and Flint doubted ducking would be enough to avoid damage. The shadows wrapped around Winona’s arms uncoiled and writhed like cuttlefish tentacles. Flint had to distance himself from her to get away from the dropping temperatures. The shadows formed a large shield in front of the walls, blocking the attack.

Watching her magical prowess up close, Flint wondered for a moment how he had survived fighting against her. Either she wasn’t in top form, or Maya was more effective than he initially assumed. Another barrage on the wall forced him to duck for cover and snapped him back to reality.

Flint loaded the crossbow and fired another bolt. Unfortunately, without an ability to enhance his projectiles, the attacks didn’t do much good. Instead of trying [Focused Shot], Flint ran down the stairs to where the melee fighters patiently waited.

“Who’s the fastest among you?” He asked. One of the female pucks stepped forward. “Run up to the fort. Tell every adult with fighting capabilities to get down here.” The puck nodded and took off straight away. “Get Twylip to send down any offensive alchemical concoctions too!”

The puck didn’t glance back or acknowledge the request. Flint could only hope that she had heard him.

“This isn’t working!” Winona yelled from atop the wall. “Their armour is too strong for non-lethal attacks. We need to get out there.”

Flint clenched his jaw. It was too high a risk, but he trusted Winona’s decision. “How long can you hold? We need Adam’s strength—”

“We don’t have that much time! The last projectile cracked the walls. I don’t know how many more we can take! The melee attackers should be fine as long as we can cover them.” Winona’s fear radiated through the empathic link. “We’ll focus on repelling them alright, and pull back if things get too hairy.”

“Fine. Force them to take cover or slow!” Flint sprinted to the gate panel and slid it open. “Ready up,” he told the melee fighters. Flint’s heart rate picked up when he saw the dogs rearing to go. A shiver ran down his spine as the inevitability of the situation caught up to him. Maya, Bjorn, and the hounds were going to head into danger, and there was little he could do about it. As he worked the mechanism, opening the gates, Flint begged them to stay safe through the empathic link. Maya and Bjorn responded, but the hounds were much too anxious.

“Charge!” Winona yelled as soon as the gates were open, and the melee attackers took off at full speed.

A pair of brownies appeared out of the stables, riding a couple of goats as large as Bjorn. Their skinny green legs disappeared into the wool, making it look like they were one. They trotted out after the guards, casting their magic on the move. Wyld arrows formed floating over their shoulders, and a green aura surrounded the mounts. Flint left the gates upon and sprinted up the stairs. He reloaded the crossbow and rested it against ramparts, taking aim.

It pained Flint to hurt the horses, but when he spotted Bjorn and the hounds heading towards half a dozen riders in a wedge formation, he knew they were in danger. The snowdog’s new bulk and frost armour would likely hold up against a couple of attacks, but he refused to take risks against their glowing weapons. So, he channelled [Marked Shot] and fired. The bolt struck pierced the lead horse’s flank, and all the dogs—including Maya made a beeline towards them. Bjorn was the closest and got there first. He barrelled into the beast, knocking the rider off. The blue aura around him thickened as red intermingled with the aura, and Flint spotted hints of frost on the iron armour.

Much to his disappointment, [Marking Shot]’s red light flowed into Bjorn and only him. Maya stopped short and barked. Bjorn leapt backwards, moving much farther than one would expect of someone his size. He landed in front of the hounds, and a yap was enough to make them stop. Flint held his breath when the unhorsed man and his companions levelled his weapons at them. He fired another [Marking Shot], and it struck one of the riders in the chest.

The bolt failed to penetrate the armour. However, the ability’s red light enveloped the man. One of the bloodhounds tried running towards the man but, Bjorn body-blocked her. Flint realised soon figured out why. A stream of blue flame—frost fire Flint guessed—shot towards them.

“No!” He yelled, abandoning his plans of avoiding fatal attacks. Flint scrambled to reload the crossbow and aimed it at the inquisitor.

Then the sphere of blue light around Bjorn brightened, stopping the attacking essence in its tracks. The aura’s storm-like spinning dispersed the frost fire before it could damage any of the hounds.

Instead of admiring Bjorn’s power, Flint prepared [Focused Shot]. The formation of five had used the opportunity to dismount and close in on the dogs together. While Bjorn looked like he could survive a blow or two, Flint doubted the same could be said for the bloodhounds. They were a bigger threat to the dogs than the frost fire.

Before Flint could fire, Maya appeared between the approaching soldiers and Bjorn in a flash of light. Lightning crackled around her snout, paws, and spine. She fell into a pouncing stance, and the soldiers took it as an invitation to charge. Flint knew what was coming. He recalled the movement from when he guided his beloved sheepdog to a new stage of existence.

The narrow slope’s high walls amplified her bark’s volume. It indeed sounded like thunder. The rippling air threw two of the approaching soldiers off their feet. The remaining three clutched at their helmets, trying to cover their ears. Maya lunged forward, landing on the man surrounded by [Marking Shot]’s crimson light. He writhed as lightning arced off her fur and licked at his armour. Maya bit down on the man’s bicep—the only bit of him not covered by plate armour, and the crimson light flowed into her.

Stark and the remaining soldiers recovered from the sonic attack alarmingly quickly and charged at Maya with their weapons raised. Flint fired a bolt at the man and got his horse in the neck. The beast fell, taking its rider with it, but the remaining soldiers continued their advance. Flint fumbled with the replacement crossbow’s aged mechanism, praying to the Heartstone Maya would get away. Fortunately, the melee attackers met the horsemen before they reached the dogs.

The goat-riding brownies were the first to meet the advance. Their summoned Wyld Arrows had grown into spears. The pint-sized green fae didn’t carry the weapon in their hands but let it float next to them. They rushed past the riders, ripping through their legs or the horse’s flanks. Screams of pain filled the slope, and blood painted the light-brown stone crimson.

Bluelake sent a stream of frost fire at the approaching force. The goats pranced out of the way, but one of the young lads following on foot didn’t. The blue flames consumed him, and Flint’s stomach sunk when no scream followed. When the cyan light dispersed, frost and patches of ice covered the boy. The attack hadn’t ceased his forward momentum and he fell forwards before shattering into giant chunks.

“I need to get down there,” Winona said. “That woman is going to slaughter them—”

Confused by her sudden pause, Flint followed her eyes to the grass beyond the slope. They’d been so focused on the battle they had missed the towering figures moving through the grass. A familiar antler-crowned giant waved at Flint, smiling warmly before whooping. The surrounding figures echoed the sound before breaking into a charge.

“What the hell are the hill giants doing here?” Flint asked, wide-eyed.

“It must be all the magic!” Winona exclaimed. “They must’ve sensed the attacks and come to help us!”

She wasn’t wrong. A cheer sounded from the ranged and ground troops when a dozen-club wielding giants sprinted up the slope into the horsemen. They appeared from the blind spots on either side of it. When one of their swinging weapons caught a rider, the sound of crunching metal and breaking bones reached Flint’s ears. The Woodson soldiers who had faltered after seeing frost fire’s effects continued their charge with renewed vigour.

The inquisitors found themselves caught between two threats and chose to focus on the more intimidating hill giants. The mounted soldiers charged downhill, leaving their unhorsed companions behind. The soldiers tried to hold their own but were soon overrun by Bjorn and the others.