Dawn crawled across the marsh in bruised colors, streaking the sky in smears of copper and blood. In that dim light, the Widow of Crows gave the order.
Horns shrieked from the black-iron siege towers, echoing across the frostbitten ground. Ropes creaked, wheels lurched forward, and her war host began its grim march toward Frostfang's battered walls.
From the ramparts, Aldric watched their advance with a heart as heavy as an anvil. The city had been repaired, but only in the barest measure; fresh timber patched the great gate, and too many cracks still ran through the old stone. He could smell the pitch boiling, the acrid sting of hot oil waiting to be poured down.
Beside him, Kaelin took a deep breath. "Archers to the merlons," she barked. "And you, lad—hold that spear steady, or I'll see to it myself!"
She did not flinch as the enemy's first volley of arrows rose like a dark swarm and fell upon the walls with a hiss and a rattle.
Shields slammed up. Men cried out. The battle had begun.
---
Below, the Widow's vanguard surged forward, armored brutes hacking apart stakes and barricades, their crow-emblazoned shields raised high. Behind them lumbered the black towers, each bristling with ladders, hooks, and shrieking soldiers eager to spill into Frostfang's heart.
The Widow herself rode just behind them, calm as the grave, eyes fixed on the city. Her voice rang out above the din:
"Break them! Frostfang is nothing! Ashes and bone — take what is yours!"
Her soldiers howled their answer, a sound that crawled into the marrow of Frostfang's defenders.
---
Maerlyn stood in the cathedral's crypt, one hand braced on the cold marble of an old king's tomb. The wards she had woven pulsed around her, a cage of runes bright as lightning, meant to hold back the worst of the Widow's dark magic.
But outside the wards, the air shifted.
A ripple of power, foul and familiar, crept across her skin.
She comes, Maerlyn thought, and her knuckles went white.
The Widow was not only a conqueror, but a witch — one who had bartered power from forgotten graves, just as Maerlyn herself had once dared to do.
The runes trembled under her hands.
"If you break," Maerlyn whispered to herself, "then all is lost."
---
On the outer gate, Kaelin stood astride the battered timber, her war hammer resting across her shoulder. Beneath her, the fresh recruits looked up, faces pale as wax, but holding.
She nodded to them.
"Do not let them through," she ordered, voice steady. "The first to climb the wall — you break them. Remember what you've lost. Fight for that."
The first siege tower lurched closer, iron-shod battering ram swinging beneath it. A dozen crows painted on its hide seemed to laugh in the rising sun.
Kaelin squared her shoulders, feeling the old fury return.
Come on, then, she thought. Let's see who breaks.
---
The Widow's first assault struck with the weight of a mountain.
The ram slammed into the outer gate, shaking the whole fortress to its foundations. Splinters flew. Soldiers reeled back, grabbing at loose stones, praying the gate would hold.
Kaelin leapt down from the rampart, shouting for oil to be poured.
Fire whooshed downward, searing the ram's bearers. Screams rose like an unholy choir.
Still they came.
Ladders slammed against the walls. Hooks caught the crenellations. One by one, enemy soldiers scrambled over, hacking at any defender in reach.
Kaelin swung her hammer in a great arc, catching one invader in the ribs and sending him flailing to the courtyard below.
"Push them back!" she roared, and her troops rallied, blades flashing in the sun.
---
Above them all, Aldric held the keep's highest tower, where the command banners still flew. Messengers raced to and from him with fresh reports — breaches at the western ramparts, burning stores in the southern quarter, children hiding in the cellars.
His head spun with numbers and the cries of the wounded, but he forced his mind to stay clear.
"Hold the east," he commanded. "Tell Kaelin to reinforce the south if she can."
As the next wave of attackers climbed the siege towers, he raised his sword.
"For Frostfang!"
The defenders took up the cry, blades ringing against shields, faces grim but unbowed.
---
Down in the crypts, Maerlyn's wards blazed as the Widow's magic finally struck.
A cold, slick darkness pressed against her circles of light, like the breath of something long dead. The Widow had unleashed a curse woven from hatred so thick it stank of graves.
The stones shivered under Maerlyn's feet.
She threw more power into the runes, her voice cracking. "You will not break this city!"
The darkness slammed against her, trying to break through, to pour its poison into Frostfang's wounded heart.
Maerlyn's nose bled. Her knees buckled. Still, she would not yield.
---
On the walls, Kaelin fought side by side with a battered sergeant. Together they pushed back another wave of crow-marked soldiers, blood soaking the planks beneath their boots.
Kaelin's arm burned from swinging the hammer, but she refused to slow.
Above, a crow-standard snapped free of its pole and fluttered down, landing in a pool of blood.
Kaelin put her boot on it, snarling.
"Not today."
---
As the day wore on, the fighting churned through the streets. The Widow's army breached the outer gate at last, flooding in a tide of black and red.
Aldric led the counterattack personally, carving a path through their vanguard. His sword found throats and ribs, his shield blocked heavy maces, and every step felt like wading through death itself.
Behind him, the townsfolk fought with butcher knives and farming scythes, their eyes wild, refusing to bow.
---
Rowena moved through the chaos, gathering the wounded, laying her hands upon the dying, offering final prayers. Her voice stayed calm, even as the walls shook and flames licked the rooftops.
When one child sobbed for its mother, Rowena scooped the girl into her arms and held her close, even as another blast from the Widow's siege engines rattled the stones.
"We stand," she whispered to the girl. "We stand."
---
By dusk, the battle still raged.
Kaelin, her face streaked with blood, leaned on the haft of her hammer, eyes fixed on a second wave coming through the broken gates.
"Again," she breathed. "We hold again."
Maerlyn, in the crypt, trembled as the Widow's curse battered her defenses, every moment feeling like the last thread might snap.
Aldric, from the tower, saw the Widow herself at the head of her host, calmly riding through the slaughter like a queen surveying her new realm.
His heart twisted with rage.
"She wants me," he murmured. "Then come and take me."
He slammed his visor shut and descended the tower stairs to meet her.
---
The final clash gathered in the courtyard, where frost still clung to the flagstones despite the fires.
Aldric strode through his defenders, sword raised, eyes fixed on the Widow.
She dismounted, graceful as a serpent, and drew a long, curved blade black as night.
"Wolf-king," she greeted him, her voice cold and sweet as ice.
"Widow."
They circled one another, the roar of battle fading to a hush around them.
"You will kneel," she told him.
Aldric laughed, ragged and bitter. "Not while my heart beats."
The Widow's blade came for him in a blur.
Steel clashed on steel, the sound ringing like a funeral bell. Sparks flew, dancing on the cold wind.
Aldric fought with all that he was — every lesson, every wound, every drop of loyalty to the city behind him. But the Widow was strong, faster than he'd believed, driven by a dark power he could barely comprehend.
He blocked one savage cut, felt his wrist nearly break, and countered with a stab that grazed her shoulder.
The Widow hissed, a feral grin on her lips.
"Good," she whispered. "Make me earn it."
---
Above them, on the parapet, Kaelin saw Aldric falter.
"Rowena!" she shouted. "The king needs you!"
Rowena, cradling a wounded boy, looked up, eyes wide. Then she gathered the last of her courage, set the boy down, and ran toward the courtyard.
---
In the crypt, Maerlyn felt the wards flicker. The Widow's power was coming through, a tide she could no longer hold.
Her candles went out one by one.
"No," Maerlyn sobbed, clawing at the runes. "No, please —"
But the darkness was upon her.
---
In the courtyard, Aldric stumbled. The Widow's blade flashed, catching his side, opening a deep gash. He fell to one knee, blood spilling across the cobbles.
The Widow raised her sword high, eyes shining with triumph.
"Yield."
Aldric looked up, his face pale, sweat beading on his brow.
Behind him, Rowena reached him, grabbed his shoulder, and whispered a single word of power — a word born of love and desperation.
Light blazed from her hands.
The Widow shrieked, stumbling back, shielding her eyes.
Aldric surged to his feet with a roar, driving his sword straight through the Widow's guard, piercing her mail and sinking deep into her chest.
The Widow gasped, eyes going wide.
"For Frostfang," Aldric growled.
He ripped the blade free. The Widow collapsed, her sword clattering to the stones.
---
The battle slowed, the Widow's soldiers faltering, shocked by their leader's fall.
Kaelin slammed her hammer against her shield, rallying the defenders.
"Drive them out!" she roared. "Frostfang stands!"
The defenders surged forward, forcing the invaders back through the ruined gates.
Maerlyn, in the crypt, felt the darkness suddenly recoil as the Widow's life ended. Her wards steadied, the runes glowing clean and pure again.
She fell to her knees, weeping with relief.
---
By nightfall, the Widow's army was broken, scattered into the marsh, leaving only bodies and blood behind.
In the courtyard, Aldric stood over the Widow's corpse, breathing hard, barely upright.
Rowena took his arm, steadying him.
"It's done," she whispered.
Aldric nodded, though his eyes were distant, haunted.
"For now," he said.
---
Above them, the night sky was a dark ocean, the crows already gathering to feast on the fallen.
Frostfang had survived — but the price was written in every ruined wall, every grieving heart, every shallow grave.
And beyond the marsh, the world still turned, carrying rumors of new threats, new storms on the horizon.
But for this single night, battered and unbroken, Frostfang stood.