Arnold raised his shield just in time to hear the whistle of an arrow cutting the air above his helmet. His arm tensed under the familiar strain as the shaft thudded uselessly somewhere behind him.
The bait assault had begun only minutes earlier, four hundred footmen under his and Thalien's shared command now throwing themselves against the city walls in a desperate storm of steel, torchlight, and war cries.
The men didn't know the full truth, of course.
They hadn't been told that this attack was but a calculated feint, designed to draw attention while another force crept toward a different fate. To them, this was the long-awaited battle, the first surge after three days of tense, brittle calm.
For a moment, as no new missiles screamed toward him, Arnold dared to lower his shield and glance around the dark chaos.
