The troops erupted as the first stones fell.
Cheers tore through the ranks, raw and triumphant, swelling louder than any horn. After weeks of drills, boredom, and hauling timber under the blistering sun, it felt like being let loose from a cage.
"How do you like that, you rats!" someone bellowed from the frontline, arms raised high in exultation as a roars of fears curled upward from the city.
"You like the view up there?! Wait till the next one's in your bedroom!" another shouted, laughter cracking out around him like thunder.
The men lined the edges of the forward positions—infantry, archers, even some of the mounted units—watching the arcs of the stones with wide eyes and open mouths, as if they were spectators at an amphitheater. Except this show didn't need actors or costumes.
Some clapped when a stone vanished behind the outer rooftops, only to be followed by the booming crash of its landing—like some great beast smashing through a forest of buildings.
