The last mournful echo of the horns faded into the vast, uncaring silence of Glyndŵr, leaving behind a dread so thick it was almost palpable. Owain stifled a whimper, his eyes darting wildly towards the crumbling breaches in the tower walls. Griff sank to his knees, muttering what sounded like a childhood prayer. Dai leaned heavily against the stone, his coughing fit intensifying until Rhys thumped him hard on the back.
"They're closing in," Rhys stated, his voice flat, his one good eye fixed on the darkening tree line. "That's a hunting call. Or a call to gather for a kill." Madog nodded slowly, his gaze distant. "They signal to each other. Move as one. They know we are here. They know we are few."
Cadogan's own heart hammered against his ribs. His modern mind, for all its analytical capacity, struggled to process the primal terror of being hunted, surrounded by an unseen, competent enemy in an alien wilderness. He forced the fear down, channeling it into a cold, sharp focus. Panic was a luxury they could not afford. "The barricade," he said, his voice emerging rougher than he intended. "Rhys, Madog, help me reinforce it further. Owain, Griff, any loose stones you can find, bring them to the upper breach. If they come, they will likely test all sides." He glanced up at the fading light. "They'll wait for full dark, most likely. Or use the dusk to conceal their approach."
The next hour was a frenzy of desperate activity. They piled more rubble against the log at the entrance, wedged sharpened stakes (Madog's grim handiwork) into the earth immediately outside it, and carried heavy stones up the treacherous spiral stairs to create small piles near the upper openings – pitiful ammunition for a desperate defense. Cadogan, despite his still-aching body, worked alongside them, his mind racing, trying to anticipate, to plan. He knew siege warfare from books, but this was no siege; this was six cornered animals against a pack of wolves.
Darkness fell completely, swift and absolute, leaving the interior of the tower lit only by the faintest, residual glow from where their fire had been – now just a patch of cold ash. They had no fuel to rekindle it. The wind howled through the gaps in the stone, each gust carrying imaginary sounds of approach. They took their positions. Rhys and Madog guarded the main entrance barricade, weapons ready. Owain and Griff, armed with a few stones apiece, were stationed at the largest breaches on the upper level, shivering more from fear than cold. Dai, too weak to fight, was tasked with listening from the center of the ground floor, his hearing perhaps still sharp enough to pick up subtle sounds. Cadogan positioned himself near the crumbling staircase, where he could move between levels, though he knew his rusty sword would be of little use against skilled archers.
The waiting was the worst. Every creak of the old tower, every rustle of wind, every distant animal cry, stretched their nerves to the breaking point. Cadogan strained his ears, trying to filter out the natural sounds of the night from anything more sinister. He thought of the "others" out there, moving silently through the woods they knew so well, painted, armed, their eyes accustomed to the dark. He imagined their approach, their patient stalking.
Then, it came. Not a shout, not a charge, but a sudden, sharp thwack against the log barricade, followed by another, and another. Arrows. "They're here!" Rhys yelled, his voice tight. "Archers!" Another volley, higher this time. One arrow skittered through an upper breach, clattering harmlessly against the far stone wall, but the sound made Owain cry out in terror. "Stay down!" Cadogan shouted, his voice cracking. "Keep away from the openings unless you have a clear shot, and only if they get close!" A futile order, perhaps, as they had no bows to return fire effectively.
From outside, a low, ululating cry rose, answered by another from a different direction. The "others" were communicating, coordinating their probe. Thwack! Thunk! More arrows struck the barricade, some splintering the rotting wood. "They're testing us," Madog rumbled beside Rhys, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Seeing if we shoot back. How many we are." "Can you see anything?" Cadogan called down. "Nothing but shadows, lordling!" Rhys yelled back. "They shoot from the darkness of the trees!"
Suddenly, a scraping sound from the barricade. Rhys cursed. "They're at the log! Trying to shift it!" Cadogan's blood ran cold. If they breached the entrance, it would be a slaughter. "Stones!" he yelled up to Owain and Griff. "If you can see them, use the stones!" He scrambled down the treacherous stairs, sword in hand, just as Rhys let out a roar of effort, heaving against the log from the inside. Madog was beside him, using a length of broken timber as a lever. Through a narrow gap, Cadogan glimpsed a painted arm, then another, straining to pull the log outwards. "Now!" Rhys bellowed. He and Madog thrust with all their might. There was a muffled yelp from outside, and the pressure on the log eased for a moment.
But then, from the upper level, came a terrified scream from Griff. "The breach! They're at the breach!" Cadogan's head snapped up. Before he could react, a dark shape appeared in the largest opening above, silhouetted against the faint starlight – a figure halfway through, preparing to drop inside. The hunt was no longer at their doorstep. It was inside their home.