Herald of Steel

"Ladder! Enemy ladders against the walls!"

"Push! Push them off! Don't let them stay there!"

"Use your hands men! Use all your body! Help your brothers to push these damned things off!"

"Enemy up the ladders! Bastards are starting to come up the ladders!"

"Quickly! Shoot your arrows! Don't let a single one get up! Throw anything you got!"

It was like this that Alexander's legionaries greeted the brave Margraves troops who were willing to brave extreme perils to come and meet them, thus denying them any sort of a chance for a spot on the walls.

Thus the legionaries aimed their shots as much as they could at the ascending soldiers, the crossbow bolts piercing many of the shields, and some even going through the enemy's hands and arms, causing the injured men to cry out in absolute pain and agony.

Complementing the attacks from the crossbows were also small stones and even bits of wood picked up from around the bridge thrown at the men, peppering the attackers with a shower of deadly projectiles, stoning them like they were in a grim version of a parade.

Facing such an immense onslaught naturally caused many of the men to be unable to keep their balance

Thus some of their grips slipped, falling off the ladder and either into the deep sea below or the wooden deck underneath.

It was not known what was worse.

Now, why falling onto the deck was bad really did not need any explanation.

Hitting the solid, rock hard wood from those heights would crack the back of their head like an egg, and snap the spine like steeping on a dry twig, covering the golden, burnished surface in a slimly, macabre red, grey, and white fluid.

No matter how many times the veteran crew saw this dreadful sight, it would still make their hearts palpate, glad that they were not the ones to have such a thing done to them.

Because imagine seeing a man falling onto the floor from such a great height that they appeared like a wingless bird against the blue drop, then crashing onto the deck with a dull, squelching, almost wet thud.

It was not a pleasant sound to have ringing beside your ears, and certainly not a pleasant sight to behold- seeing the body become twisted and mangled in all sorts of unnatural and surreal ways.

Just looking at the disjointed bones, broken and the jagged edges sticking out of the flesh that it broke through was very hard to see.

And as if that was not enough, which it should have been, it was made all the more terrible by how sometimes these men would fall on top of another extremely unlucky being, crushing him along the way, thus producing two corpses twitching and groaning their last death throes.

The sight was made twice as worse and twice as revolting.

How many men had the guts to stomach this?

Very Few!

The answer was- very few.

Even as experienced as the Margraves troops here were, none could stomach seeing their brothers falling off the ladder like shooting shots and turning to squashed tomatoes without flinching.

So seeing this, one might be tempted to think falling into the blue water next to the ships would mean a soft, pillowy landing, followed by a challenging but ultimately safe swim to the shore, just like in all those movies and video games.

But no!

Hitting the waters might actually be worse than hitting the decks.

At least hitting the decks was generally a quick way to go- a thud, a crack, and lights out. You were on your way with hopefully little pain.

But if you hit the sea with the thought you would be able to swim to safety, well no, you would not, but simply drown.

This was because the men wore thick bronze armor to protect themselves, but that same armor made it impossible for to them swim in.

It was basic physics really.

The density of the bronze plates they wore worked to make it so that the combined density of the metal and body was denser than the water, so they would not be able to float as the natural body could.

So instead they would sink to a watery death in agonizing pain- as retold by many a sailor who had survived near drowning experiences.

The entire event tended to last at least several minutes, and each moment would feel like an eternity in purgatory.

So perhaps there was some solace to be gained from the fact that most of these men who fell into the water would not get to experience that horror.

They would most likely be dead or unconscious before that happened. And that would be due to the sheer height they would fall from, about 15 meters.

At those distances, the surface tension of the water would make it almost feel like they hit a pavement of concrete, breaking bones, cracking spines, and making one lose his consciousness in the best of circumstances, if not kill the poor man then and there- a far more likely and perhaps even preferable outcome.

The two examples thus went to show that you could hold a long debate discussing which surface was the better way to go with the least pain and the greatest mercy- the deck or the water.

Alexander had all such sanguinary thoughts roam inside his mind as watched the battle unfold from the back of the formations, commanding the men as the need arose.

And from there he got a first row view of how the Margraves' troops scaled the steps and made attempt after attempt on the bridge, spurred on by the lashing commands of their superiors.

Ser Robert, keeping his word to Lord Bernard kept on sending more and more men up the ladder regardless of the casualties, while Alexander's legionaries kept on repelling more and more of them, killing them or much more likely throwing them aboard.

And to do this they shot the attackers with their bows, hit them with their stones, slashed and stabbed them with their swords, and even kicked and bashed them with their shields when they tried to get up on the bridge, thus making the men tumble downwards to their doom.

There were even times when the crossbowmen targetted the man at the base of the ladders- the ones who were helping keep the entire thing steady, trying to take them out.

And every time a bolt hit around the vicinity there, even if it did not connect, it would cause the ladder to shake and shift a bit, showing clearly that the ones holding the ladder were still human, no matter how brave and fearless they might appear to me.

While a direct hit would sometimes cause the entire vibrate dangerously, if not topple it all together, taking all the ten or so men that might be on there with it to their graves.

The battle of the bridge was undoubtedly bloody yet very one sided, with Alexander's forces having suffered literally not a single casualty.

The Margraves' death toll on the other hand was in the large tens- an extremely high number.

It was to the point even if they were the enemy, seeing the state of the battle, Alexander could not help but feel a bit sad.

These were brave men, very brave men indeed, no doubt about that.

In fact, Alexander himself did not think he could be this brave.

He swore to himself that there was not enough amount of money in the world that would be enough to get him to scale those rickety ladders while fighting the constant hail of missiles as well as the fear of vertigo from climbing up so high.

Even if he was threatened with death and then promptly executed, he would gladly take that offer than risk his life over such a suicidal attack- one in which he would undoubtedly fail and then fall, thus slowly die over the span of several minutes in agonizing pain, or worse survive but be in a paralyzed state, able to sense everything but unable to do anything about it- a prisoner of his own body.

There were far worse things in life than simple death.

However, few men in this time period thought like Alexander.

Most were instead simple folks who just obeyed their master without much thought or questions.

Hence even with the staggering amount of mounting losses, the Margraves kept on trying and trying, despite all their failures.

But at the end of the day, wars cannot be won with bravery alone.

And soon Ser Robert began to understand that, as morale among the men started to collapse.

The initial zeal of the charge was gone, and his threats were starting to run dry as many of the officers were coming running to him to plead,

"The enemy is too strong here. We cannot keep going like this. The men are refusing to go up! Please help us, ser!"

Ser Robert pursed his lips in both annoyance and anger at such difficulty, which trying to rack his brain for a solution.

Until one of his subordinates proposed, "Ser, let some of us sail behind the enemy and board the bridge from behind. Catch them in a pincher!"