Blood Tempered: Book 1 of the Sword Monk Saga

Blood Tempered: Part 29

The next morning began with a barrage. After the Roumnans had found their range with the trebuchet, which they did in less than an hour, they concentrated their fire on a particularly decrepit portion of the wall about twenty yards from the main gate. By noon the wall was breached sufficiently for a man to slither through the gap. Jaga had no response. The trebuchet was well out of bow range, and sending out a sortie was suicide, and against the witch's orders to boot.

Jaga expected the attack to come at any moment, expected the harsh, blaring horns of the Roumnans to sound and for troops to run, screaming battle cries, and rush the breach. But the Roumnans continued to batter the wall with the trebuchet, expanding the hole until it was large enough to drive a wagon through.

That was all the war the Roumnans made for the rest of the day.

"Is it wrong that I'm probably going to die soon, and I'm bored stiff?" Arle asked Jaga.

"Well you could go out and burn down that trebuchet if you need some stimulation," Jaga replied.

"I would, but it's damned difficult to light fires with one arm. You have to hold the steel in your teeth, and then when you strike it with the flint, the sparks burn your eyebrows, like as not."

"Wouldn't want to mar your good looks."

"Exactly. Besides, you should've asked me yesterday. Burn it now and it just makes you look petty."

"Don't worry. Tomorrow will bring more than enough excitement. I don't know why they're paring their nails instead of making an assault, but if they want to give us time to prepare a reception for them, then let's not waste it."

"Leave it to me," said Arle.

"That's what I pay you for," replied Jaga.