Agathon shot to his feet as he heard the sudden clang of steel striking against steel. He closed his eyes into thin slits and drew his sword. Hearing grunts of effort and screams of pain at his left, through the haze he saw the tops of ladders leaning against the battlements. Attackers in armor of steel chain were climbing the ladders, and Agathon’s eyes widened as he saw that his archers’ arrows were bouncing off them without striking flesh. Below the armored soldiers, clansmen were gazing up at the walls as they ascended, and Agathon’s enfeebled vision took in dozens of ladders just in the section of wall he could see.

Holding his sword with both shaking hands, he was forced to face forward when, just in front of him, two ladders slapped against the stone in quick succession. A tall, pale-skinned warrior with gray-streaked hair and a braided beard threw himself onto the battlements. Defenders rushed at the warrior as he swung a two-handed sword in great sweeping arcs, cutting his opponents down one after another. Dark eyes blazing, the warrior met every defender head-on. Arrows ricocheted from his chain armor until he cannoned into the men holding the bows. While the tall warrior cleared the wall, more armored attackers surged up from below. Every one of them was met by a defender. Every defender fell under the onslaught.

Suddenly there were no more Ileans for the tall warrior to face. He turned his attention to Agathon, and Agathon raised his weapon.

Palemon’s men poured into the breach he’d opened and he quickly scanned the battlements before rushing to the next melee, charging into the fray and scattering enemies with savage blows of his broadsword. A swarthy soldier raised his triangular shield to ward off Palemon’s overhead strike, but the wood shattered into fragments, the blade continuing into the man’s neck, cleaving his head from his body. Another opponent tried to bring his spear to bear, but Palemon knocked it away and thrust the point of his weapon into his enemy’s chest. The grim-faced Ileans fought bravely, but their shorter swords couldn’t touch him, their spears were too big for close combat, and their arrows couldn’t pierce his chain mail.

Hundreds of defenders died from being thrown off the walls, screaming as they fell into the void. There was fighting everywhere; vicious hand-to-hand combat with every one of Palemon’s men facing two or more opponents. Bodies littered the area and combined with the pools of blood to make footing treacherous.