Late morning brought with it a chilly wind from the west, blowing puffy white clouds quickly across the blue skies above the Imperial Heartland. The shadows of the clouds moving across the sky above set shadows rolling across the patchwork quilt of undulating cropland surrounding the Capital. The emerald-green leaves of tender springtime wheat billowed in rippling waves as the breeze blew across the land. Above the Capital, smoke billowed through the watchtowers and spires in quick, diffuse trails. Everything on the land seemed to be in motion and living, as if the very Earth trembled in anticipation of what was to come. Juxtaposed against all this motion, the army of Baron Ulrek Bathory was still.

Steel gray banners bearing the Baron's bat-winged sigil fluttered in the breeze above the gathered host, but the soldiers themselves were comparatively motionless. Over 50,000 men had gathered before the northern walls of the Capital in boxy formations stretching across the better part of a league. The first ranks were comprised of armored sargeants and yeomen who could afford their own arms; their shields painted either white, gray, or black, and sometimes adorned with crudely-painted bats. The ranks behind them were comprised of a vast multitude of peasant conscripts with mismatched weapons. Scattered among the levied hosts were small formations of mercenaries, all donning an impressive hodgepodge of armor and weaponry. Standing a full man's height over even the tallest soldiers in the army were the ogres procured by Kharald Halfbeard. They were bald, corpulent monstrosities, covered in calloused warts and wearing only tattered rags over their unmentionables. Leashed by two or three iron chains affixed to shackles around their necks, the ogres regarded the city before them with a bovine, thoughtless stare; their slackened jaws dripping with viscous spittles of slobber.

From a small, slightly higher hillock just behind the army, Ulrek Bathory sat in the saddle of his horse in the shade of an ancient wolf tree, surveying his forces and the city before them. Underneath his silvery mask, Ulrek watched as squadrons of mounted knights galloped around the foot of the Capital's walls, surveying the city's defensive fortifications. Ulrek glanced back behind him, watching as Lord Orrin Goutfoot and his dwarves positioned themselves on a ridgeline farther back beyond the army, where his beloved cannons were afforded the best firing positions and also well protected should Edward's forces attempt to sally forth.

Ulrek was watching the dwarves unlimber their massive bombards from the ox-drawn wagons when Kharald Halfbeard and some of his horsemen galloped up to the hillock where the vampire prince and his retinue were convened.

"I've rode around the entire city," the dwarf mercenary reported as he directed his horse beside Ulrek's, "and there's not a soul on the walls. I don't understand it. With an army of this size standing at their door, they should have every pressed every man and boy who can hold a bow or spear up onto those walls. But I don't see a one. Not on the ramparts, not in the towers, nowhere. I have no idea why they would be so grossly unprepared, but we ought to take advantage of it! I say we send ladders against the walls, before they realize their error and attempt to reinforce the ramparts."

"No," Ulrek refused. "They have known I would come for them for some time now. There is no way they would be so unprepared."

"You suspect a trap, then? Is that it?" Asked Halfbeard.

"Edward is hardly a tactician," said Ulrek. "Military affairs and history always bored my brother; he was always more interested in women than anything else. I suppose he thinks himself rather clever for devising this obvious ruse, thinking that I would be so enticed by the empty walls as to be lured into sending my forces into jaws of his hidden defenses. He is a fool to think that I would be so gullible."

"What would you have the men do then, Baron? Wait for some kind soul to open the gates for us?"

"Yes," Ulrek affirmed, ignoring the dwarf's sarcasm. "Lord Goutfoot shall open them. Tell him to fire his cannons as soon as they are ready."

[hr]

From a balustraded balcony of one of Castle Bathory's towers, the chamberlain of Felboge Keep surveyed the Baron's massive army standing before the walls. Some 50 to 60 thousand men, stretching east to west almost as far as the eye could see. They were gathered some 400 paces away from the city's walls, just out of reach of even skilled archers. Little did Ulrek know that the entire rampart was even now totally unguarded, that a single man with a ladder could scale the city's wall, open the northern gates, and allow the entire army into the city.

The Madness, as the guard had called it, had overtaken the city during the night. Almost at once, the Capital's population had turned against the guards, ambushing them as they made their patrols through the city. At first, it was speculated to simply be a peasant revolt spurred on by the martial law imposed in preparation of Ulrek's siege. But as ambush survivors fell back to Castle Bathory throughout the night, their reports suggested an entirely different phenomenon. Soldiers who had reached the safety of the castle recounted the paupers charging at them from the alleys and tenements, wielding cutlery, pitchforks, sharpened spades, and anything else they could find. Armored guards were butchered in the streets by ferocious mobs comprised of women, elderly, and boys. Their eyes were wide with lunatic fury, and their attacks were preceded by the same battlecry: God wills it!

Thanks to the bravery of the guard, Prince Edward and the Castle were secure. Enraged paupers had attacked the castle's gates and walls a few times during the night, but were held back. Though poorly armed, the Madness had imparted tremendous savagery and bravery to those afflicted. The guards had to fight ferociously to keep the enraged citizens at bay and there were casualties, most notably Emily's father. The guards were already spent, even before the Baron and his tremendous army had arrived. To say the situation was dire was an understatement.

Commander Yorrek stepped out onto the balcony behind the chamberlain, looking over his shoulder at the Baron's army gathered below.

"So the Baron has arrived at last," remarked Yorrek. "We cannot defend the city's walls, but let Ulrek have them. We'll waste no blood protecting this traitorous city. What matters is that the Castle is secure and our stores filled to the brim in anticipation of his assault. His army will run out of food long before we do, and we have 4,000 of the Guard's finest protecting these walls. We will fight to the last man to protect our rightful King Edward."

"Ulrek will not wait to starve us out," said the chamberlain soberly. "Ulrek is a vicious master. He will order his men to fight to the last man as well. And even if every single one of your soldiers kills a dozen men, it won't be enough. Just look at his army. They even managed to procure ogres."

Yorrek looked out over the Baron's vast army for a few moments.

"I have seen it. Hey may have ogres. He may have knights and horses and a great multitude of levies. But you know what I don't see? No trebuchets. No mangonels. Not even a scorpion to be seen among the lot of them. He has no siege engines that I recognize. As far as I can tell, he intends to ladder over the walls. He'll manage fine over the city's walls but his men will mutiny when they see the losses we shall inflict when they try to ladder into the castle. Give me a pot of boiling oil and I'll have even those terrible ogres fleeing like whipped dogs."

Before the chamberlain could respond, his attention went to a cloud of white smoke that had erupted into being on the ridgeline behind Ulrek's army. Another one appeared, brought into being from an explosion of fire trumpeting out of the muzzle of a huge iron tube. One after the other. And then came the sound, like rolling peals of thunder. Dust and pulverized rock erupted from behind the city's walls as the projectiles crashed into the walls with a crunching thud. One projectile missed the city's walls and flew well over the city, whistling past Commander Yorrek and the chamberlain before plunging down into one of the city's southern neighborhoods, reducing a house into pulverized brick and splinters. Another projectile whistled past before crashing into a lower level of Castle Bathory. The castle shook beneath their feet. Broken stone tumbled away from the impact crater, but the castle still stood. As the volley concluded, a roaring cheer rose up from Ulrek's army, panicked shouts and screams could be heard from inside the Castle.

"C-cannons," Yorrek recognized, his face drained of color. "How did the Baron get cannons?"

"Edward and Emily are not safe here," the chamberlain declared. "Ulrek is going to take this castle. Go find Edward and tell him we are going to get him out of the city."

"I am not going to tell my King to abandon his throne because I cannot guarantee his safety. I will not advise surrender to the Baron."

"I suggested no such thing, Commander," the Chamberlain said over his shoulder as he made his way back inside. "Just gather Edward and Emily and tell them that they will need to leave the city for a time."

"Where are you going, then?" Yorrek asked.

"To find the court engineer or a sapper," replied the chamberlain, pausing for a moment to hear the start of a second volley from the cannons. "Ulrek is going to take this castle, but I'll see to it that he never leaves."