Below, the chains were passed to the soldiers in front, hands raised to hook the giant links onto the thick wooden gate.

“Now! Open the gate!” Ren shouted, and for a few seconds, the creak of the heavy wooden gate swinging open was the only sound to be heard.

Even from this high up, Ren could see the faces of the Skarlan soldiers change from surprise to fear. Then shouts filled the air, the men stumbling backwards and falling over each other.

The herders behind the cattle heeled their horses forward, snapping whips above their heads. The cattle startled and charged towards the only possible exit, barrelling into the soldiers gathered on the narrow bridge.

The cattle ploughed through the line of soldiers like a living battering ram. They tossed their heads and slammed their horns into the heads and bodies of soldiers with sickly cracks of broken bones. The first splash of a body hitting water was soon followed by many more, and the riders at the foot of the bridge yanked their horses backward or attempted to wheel away from the herd of stampeding cattle. One horse reared up, throwing its rider from the saddle. Those that didn't fall into the water were trampled by the massive animals.

“Archers, fire at will,” Ren shouted, and heard his command relayed down the lines, followed by the snap of bowstrings against wood as the archers let their arrows fly. Many arrows found their targets in the necks, heads, and torsos of soldiers scrambling to get out of the water. The cattle fanned out, continuing down the slope and forcing the second column of riders to break and move out of their way.

“Form a defence line in the courtyard,” Anik shouted, grabbing a bow and tossing it to Ren, who caught it with both hands. Below, Skarlan soldiers were falling like flies even as more tried to press on through the gate and into the fort. As Ren watched, Anik drew his sword from his hip and turned. He leapt down the stairs like a cat and joined the others below. Shoulder to shoulder with the Fraynean soldiers, Anik held their invaders at bay, shouting commands to the men around him to keep the line tight.

Grabbing an arrow from one of the boxes on the ramparts, Ren nocked it, drew the bow, and took aim. He chose a target. The man was trying to pull himself back onto the bridge, but gave up when a horse thundered past and decided to go for the bank instead. His movements were panicked as he stumbled, sliding in the mud and struggling in the icy cold. Ren hesitated, hand shaking on the bow. All he had to do was release. Just let the arrow fly and bury itself into flesh with a sickly rip that would mix blood with water.

He couldn't.