The device looked a little like a crossbow, but much bigger. The limb was six feet across, made from many layers of seasoned yew and capable of holding an immense amount of energy as the cable was pulled back. It was mounted on a swivel so that it could be pointed in any direction, including up into the sky, and the mount itself was set on artillery wheels so that it could be pulled behind a horse like a cannon. The arms were pulled back by means of a winch which required two men to operate; two levers that operated a ratchet mechanism. Beside it sat a rack containing two dozen bolts, each three feet long and made from cylinders of steel half an inch across. Just behind the wickedly sharp points were holes like the eye of a needle where small pieces of oil-soaked rag could be tied in place with wire. Two of them already had pieces of oily rag in place, so that they only had to be placed on the guide rail and set alight before being fired.

     “What's its range?” asked King Leothan, staring at the weapon in fascination. Around him, the army base was almost empty, with almost everyone out defending the city. Essential work was being carried out by elderly veterans, grumbling at the injuries and ailments that kept them from the front line. Leothan’s attention was momentarily diverted by a one armed man raising the flag of Helberion from the pole that stood before the command building, on the other side of the wide, empty parade ground. The sight caused the King a sudden attack of anxiety that he controlled with an effort, and he returned his attention to the weapon.

     “About five hundred yards,” replied Sergeant Bollinger, the man who'd been put in charge of the project. He and his small platoon were the only young, healthy men left in the city, and they would be going out to join their fellows soon enough. “Its effective range against Radiants is probably much less, though. If they see a bolt coming they’ll probably be able to dodge out of its way by blasting gas out of their blowholes. To be sure of hitting one, you’d probably have to let it come a lot closer. Maybe within a hundred yards.”

     “That’s still too far away for them to be able to curse our men, though. Right?”

     “They've never cursed anyone from a distance greater than about fifty feet. That has to be their effective range. This weapon will force them to stay much further away than that.”

     The King stared up into the sky. He still couldn't get used to a sky that was completely empty of the creatures. Since the attack on the palace, not a single Radiant had returned to the city. Where are they? he wondered. What are they up to? There were Radiants out over the battlefields, of course, but that was still miles away. Everyone had been expecting them to return an masse to the city itself, to launch a major attack, killing and cursing thousands. The attack on Adams Hill had intensified the fear, and many people had left the city, going to live with relatives in the countryside.

     So far, though, the skies had remained clear. All the warnings and drills, telling people what to do in the event of a Radiant attack, had been for nothing, and the fear was gradually ebbing away as fear of the Carrowmen grew. They probably won't come now, thought the King. If they were going to, they would have done so by now. Why wait, though? Why give us the chance to prepare for them?

     “They still have their control of the weather and their ability to cause earthquakes,” he said, returning his gaze to the Sergeant.

     “We've never seen them cause an earthquake in the same place twice," the Sergeant replied. "Not even when it would have dealt us a heavy blow to have done so. It may be that they simply can't cause an earthquake in the same place twice.”

     “We can certainly hope so. How many of these devices have your people managed to build?”

     “Twenty so far, and we’ve got another twenty in production. After that, though... The problem is the yew wood. Yew is very slow growing and we don’t have very much old, seasoned wood in stock. Theoretically, you could use any hard wood. Maple, ash, oak... But none of them can create weapons with the same range and penetrating power.”

     “Can’t be helped. Make them out of whatever you can. We need one of these weapons at every strategic point. Anywhere a Radiant might attack. We need hundreds. This is a good start, though. I want these sent out to the front line immediately. With these, we can neutralise the bastards as a military threat. Then it'll just be us against Carrow.”

     “The damage has been done, though, Sire. We've taken so many losses, and we were outnumbered in the first place. Also, everyone's complaining about the shortage of gunpowder. There's wagon after wagon of it entering the city, but none of it...”

     “Wait!” said the King, though. “Who says there’s gunpowder entering the city?”

     “One of them broke an axle on a pothole. It fell over and great kegs of gunpowder came rolling out, and there’s dozens of wagons...”

     The King held up a hand to silence him. “Only that one wagon contained gunpowder,” he said. “The others contain food to sustain a siege. Make sure the men understand that.”

     The Sergeant looked doubtful, but he nodded. “I will, Your Majesty.”

     “Good. You've done good work here, Sergeant. Keep it up.”

     “We will, Sire. We'll give ‘em a hell of a good show when they come, you can be sure of that. If they want this city, they’ll pay for it in blood.”

     “Good to hear. Carry on, Sergeant.”

     The soldier saluted as Leothan walked away, his bodyguard falling in beside him. In the distance, the sound of cannon fire was clearly audible, only twenty miles now from Marboll itself. It had been a managed retreat, though, forcing the enemy to advance over ground sewn with mines and other booby traps, costing them men and equipment for every step they took. The result was that, even with the Radiants as allies, the Carrowmen had been losing men much faster than the Helberians. With the capital itself now at the backs of the defenders, though, there was no more room to retreat. The time had come to make a stand.

     Back in the palace, Leothan made his way to the War Room, therefore, where the rest of the War Council was waiting for him. “We have a problem,” he said as everyone stood. “The men know there’s gunpowder entering the city. If they know it, it won’t be long before the Carrowmen know it as well. They'll wonder what we're doing with it.”

     “We're telling everyone the wagons contain food,” said Field Marshall Amberley.

     “One broke open, kegs of gunpowder rolled out of it. No matter what we say, they’ll wonder what the odds are that it was the one wagon carrying gunpowder that had the accident.”

     “I doubt it’ll be a problem, Sire. They'll believe we're bringing food in. It's plausible and logical to bring food in when expecting to come under siege. The real wonder is that the Carrowmen haven't tried to stop them.”

     “They're probably confident that they can destroy our food stocks anytime they like,” replied General Lannier. “I'd be astonished if there weren't one or two saboteurs in the city, despite all our precautions. They’re leaving one road open so we can abandon the city when they begin their real assault. They have to leave us a way out to minimise Carrow casualties. They don't care how much food we bring in because they don't expect to have to starve us out. I recommend we start a fire ourselves when the time comes. Let it be known that a saboteur succeeded in destroying most of our food and that that’s why we're pulling out.”

     Amberley nodded, accepting his analysis. “So the plan isn't in danger?” asked the King.

     “I don’t think so. If they thought we were bringing that much gunpowder into the city, they'd probably guess what we were going to do with it and they'd close the road, or target the wagons. They haven't done either, so they don't.”

     “Let's hope so, since it’s the only hope we've got. It was the Brigadier's idea, you know. He says the idea came to him while talking to Parcellius.” The other members of the War Council just looked at him. “Yes, well. Those Ballistae look good,” he said to Amberley. “They should punch through their tough Radiant hides nicely.”

     “In tests, the bolts punched half way through the trunk of a full grown oak tree. I don’t care how tough their hides are, those bolts will get through. Unlike the bows and arrows...”

     “It was a good idea,” said the King. “Well worth trying. They look so flimsy when they’re floating around up there, like jellyfish. An arrow ought to go through them like they’re made of tissue paper. Ah well. Maybe we’ll be able to make portable versions of the weapon that can be carried, like crossbows.”

     “It's the size of the weapon that gives them their penetrating power,” replied Amberley, though. “A smaller version just wouldn't work, unless they had some other way to propel the bolt. Gunpowder, perhaps. A small, hand held cannon that fires a bolt instead of a shell, but there's no time left to develop such a weapon.”

     The King nodded regretfully, then walked over to the maps hanging on the wall. The one showing all of Helberion was still there and showed Carrow troops across half the country, but another one beside it showed the area around the capital city. The sight of enemy forces so close, almost totally encircling the city, made him restless and uneasy. He had to keep reminding himself that the enemy was right where he wanted them. All together, in one place. As if the enemy armies were one man, and he was lining up his rifle for a clean shot through the heart. It had to work! he told himself. If it didn't, if they were forced to abandon Marboll for real, there would be nothing to stop the Carrowmen from sweeping across the rest of the country in days. Marboll was the only defensible place left. If they were going to break the Carrow invasion force, it would have to be here.