Chapter 18: Kill them All

The heavy iron anvil was in the center of the castle’s armory forge. The metal bucket-helm of Jack’s Head Retainer was on its flat surface.

Barnaby wiped a layer of black soot from his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked down at the helmet. A deep dent was in the side of the helm.

Barnaby was a master of his craft, and he understood how hard the impact would have been. Iron was strong, but the human body inside it was soft. A strike with enough force to cave in steel by two full inches would have instantly snapped a man’s neck or crushed his skull into fragments.

Yet, when Lord Jack personally brought the helmet over for repairs earlier that morning, the young lord had casually mentioned that his mage was completely unharmed. Barnaby had watched the giant man after the battle. He hadn’t limped or rubbed his neck. He hadn’t even let out a grunt of pain.

“Impossible,” Barnaby whispered to the empty armory.

He turned his attention away from the helmet and walked out into the freezing courtyard, making his way toward the main gates. A heavy barricade of spare timber was against the splintered oak doors. Giles and the militia had built it the night before, but Lord Jack’s mages had supposedly reinforced it.

Barnaby approached the barricade. Several thick, raw iron spikes were deep inside the timbers, holding the massive beams together.

Barnaby ran his thumb over the head of a spike, and a cold chill went down his spine. The wood around the iron was not crushed or splintered from heavy hammer blows. The heads of the spikes were not flattened by a mallet. These spikes were simply pushed straight into the wood.

No human arm in the world was strong enough to push raw iron through solid wood.

Barnaby looked across the courtyard toward the Great Hall. He didn’t know what kind of mages the young Lord Jack had brought into the valley, but he was now absolutely certain that the creatures inside that heavy armor were completely unnatural.

A few hours later, the atmosphere inside the castle courtyard was surprisingly light.

Jack was on the balcony, leaning heavily on his cane. His eyes were on the distant tree line of the woods. The bandit camp was there. The smoke from their campfires was incredibly thin today. They were running out of dry wood, and more importantly, they were running out of food.

According to the village scouts, the bandits had already slaughtered and eaten their own pack mules. Now, they were desperately boiling pine needles and tree bark just to have something warm in their stomachs.

Jack knew the two Grey Core mages were in that camp. He needed them dead, but he couldn’t simply march his skeletons into the open woods during the day. He had to wait for them to make a mistake.

“Lord Jack! Lord Jack!”

Karen’s joyful voice broke his dark train of thought.

Jack looked down. Karen was in the courtyard, rushing out of the wooden door of the greenhouse. Her face was bright red, and a beaming smile was on her face. Giles and Old Miller were right behind her, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Jack hobbled toward the stairs and made his way down to the courtyard.

“What is it, Karen?” Jack asked.

“Come inside, My Lord! You have to see!” she urged, holding the door open for him.

Jack stepped into the greenhouse. The air inside the glass building was incredibly warm and humid, completely sealed off from the deadly winter chill outside. The underground stone trenches were doing their job perfectly.

Jack looked down at the long rows of dark soil.

Dozens of tiny, bright green shoots were in the dirt. The winter cabbage and the fast-growing peas had sprouted. The little green leaves were incredibly small, but their color was vibrant and full of life.

In a valley surrounded by a deadly blizzard, freezing temperatures, and starving murderers, the sight of fresh, growing life was nothing short of a miracle.

Tears were in Old Miller’s eyes. The elderly farmer fell to his knees.

“Life,” Old Miller whispered, his voice cracking with intense emotion. “The earth is alive again. We actually beat the winter.”

Giles let out a booming laugh, clapping his heavy hands together. “The mages’ design is flawless! We have food growing in the dead of winter! Let those bandit bastards freeze in the woods. We have everything we need right here!”

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Jack looked at the tiny green shoots, a profound sense of relief washing over him. The warm atmosphere inside the glass walls was the ultimate payoff for all his exhausting magical labor.

But Jack was a pragmatist. As he looked up through the clear glass roof at the darkening sky, he knew the bandits wouldn’t just sit in the woods and starve quietly. Desperation always bred bold, reckless action.

The dead of night was over the valley.

The winter wind was howling, masking any small noises in the dark. The bandit leader, Kael, knew his men would be dead from starvation in three days if they didn’t breach the castle. A frontal assault against the armored giants was suicide. He needed the gates unlocked from the inside.

Five elite, lightly armored bandits were at the base of the castle wall. White furs were over their shoulders to blend into the snow.

The iron grappling hooks were in their hands. They swung the ropes in tight circles and threw them upward. The iron hooks caught the high stone battlements with a clink.

The five men tested the ropes, found them secure, and began to climb. They moved quickly and silently, expecting to find the village militia asleep near the warm hearths.