I was a bit tired after my late night, but I wanted to be awake for the bandits' attempt with dynamite. Even Trish was up as she sat beside me on the cliff. We were about a kilometer from the gate, just in case they did break through, but we could see well enough even without the binoculars.
I had never seen anyone turn a wagon into a turtle before.
The bandits really had some ingenious ideas. They had layered numerous shields on top of the wagon for protection from our arrows and cut a hole in the bottom of the wagon so a dozen people could push it from safety.
I watched as they pushed the elaborate construction towards our wall. The guards shot the occasional arrow to keep them nervous. I put my binoculars to my eyes to see things in better detail. The bandits dropped an entire seven stick bundle of dynamite against the one wall and started backing up while laying out a long length of fuse wire.
My heart started beating faster. I really hoped that Degan was right since I didn't know anything about dynamite, other than the fact that it went boom. Once they were over a hundred meters away, they lit the fuse and started pushing the wagon as fast as possible to get further away.
Amber was sitting on my other side and murmured, "Better plug your ears."
I lowered my binoculars and stuffed my fingers in my ears even as fired people all over plugged their own ears. I was nervous as I watched the smoke rise from the burning fuse as it approached the dynamite.
A huge boom rocked the area and sent birds fleeing. Ouch. That hurt even with plugged ears. Heartfire hearing was not always a perk. The area by the wall was covered in smoke. I held my breath as I waited for the lazy breeze to clear the smoke.
I exhaled in relief and grinned happily when I saw that there was only a small black smudge where the dynamite had sat. Degan had been correct. I glanced through my binoculars and started giggling.
Amber glanced at me, "What's so funny?"
I passed her the binoculars, "Look at their faces!"
She took a quick look before she started chuckling. The bandits looked utterly shocked and in complete disbelief. Their expressions were priceless and made me wish I had a camera. Amber shook her head in amusement as she kept examining the camp with my binoculars.
"Huh. They must have made more attempts to break in than I realized. There are about fifty graves dug."
Trish moved her binoculars slightly, "Perhaps they fought amongst themselves? I am sure that we didn't even hit that many people with arrows."
Another man commented, "They attempted to get to the gate at least five times last night and a few other attempts were done along the cliff. Some got away with just being pegged with rotten eggs or rocks. I suspect that most of the casualties were from those who entered the forest. The fighters left the bodies on the edge of the trees for them to collect."
Amber hummed, "That I can believe. None of ours have been hurt yet, correct?"
Brad shook his head, "No, one twisted ankle that already healed, but that was the idiot's own fault for trying to run at full speed with dimmed eyes." He looked at me, "Laura, do you feel like helping me today?"
I tilted my head in confusion, "What do you need help with?"
He grinned, "Your use of the rotten eggs last night gave me an idea, but I needed every rotten or old egg we can find."
Amber looked intrigued, but cautious, "Just what do you plan to do with them?"
He chuckled evilly, "I plan to load the catapult with them and pelt their camp tomorrow. It is close enough to the wall that they can't see the catapult and they have no idea it exists. Cleaning that up should keep them occupied for a few hours."
I giggled as Amber laughed. Others around us were also snickering and looking rather excited. A thought struck me, "Could we also throw over other things?"
Brad titled his head as he examined my expression, "Like what?"
"The butchers had some meat go bad and they weren't able to go bury it in the forest like they usually do. I think some of the jars of pickles have gone bad as well."
Brad was howling in laughter, "Oh! This is going to be priceless! You are definitely helping me collect this stuff today."
I looked back at the bandit camp, but the leaders had gone back into the big tent to attempt another plan that might succeed. I hoped that they were unsuccessful.
I held the bread bag open and wrinkled my nose at the smell of the rotten pickles. Trish was dumping them into the bag and I tied it shut. We didn't want to throw the jars over the wall since they would break and glass wasn't something we wanted laying around in the grass. A bread bag was easy enough to pick up. It also wouldn't cut through shoes if we stepped on it.
Trish muttered, "Pickle bombs... Now I have heard of everything..."
I giggled as I held up another bag for her to pour the cloudy liquid and pickles into. Our wheelbarrow was almost full. The cooks had offered to wash the jars for us, so we simply had to haul this stuff beside the catapult for tomorrow.
People were scouring the shelves, larders, and cold room for anything that might have gone bad. It was all being piled up not that far from the catapult. The bandit camp may have been out of reach of our bows, but they were plenty close enough for a catapult.
How Brad had convinced Roland to bring back a catapult from a museum all those months ago was a mystery, but we were all happy for his odd hobby and obsession with catapults now. Trish sighed, "Last one. I don't want to load this barrow too full in case a bag breaks."
I nodded and carefully stacked the last bag on top as she started pushing the wheelbarrow. I followed her. About twenty people were scouring the pens of the chickens and ducks to find any eggs that may have been hidden throughout the summer.
I started giggling as I saw that people had actually moved the big white geese into a different pen while they checked that field for eggs. Perhaps we should launch a few of the meanest geese into the bandit camp...
I shook my head as I tried to wake up. I wasn't exactly tired, but two late nights in a row with Diane followed by early mornings was starting to wear on me. Perhaps I had to take a nap sometime today to get rid of this tired feeling. Trish would be relieved for the break. Even when I was tired, my energy levels exhausted her.
The smell of baking bread was tantalizing. It was probably driving the bandits crazy as well. I lifted my binoculars, but I only saw things like dried meat, flatbread and some greens present for breakfast in the bandits' camp. The flatbread looked old and certainly hadn't been made today.
I saw the occasional person lift their nose and sniff, obviously jealous about our fresh bread. I wasn't sure if I should feel sad about what we were about to do to them. It wasn't nice, but their plans weren't nice either. I debated a bit and decided that since they were trying to be meanies that we were like the anti-bully group from school.
Many others had gathered on the cliffs to watch this morning's show. I could see occasional flickers of movement in the trees as many of our fighters were also close to the treeline to observe. Diane and Ace were out there somewhere.
Brad was checking the calculations for the fiftieth time. He had used it earlier this spring to throw rocks out of fields without having to walk them all the way to the treeline, so he had lots of practice. Perhaps he just wanted to be sure that his first launch would be perfect.
Either way, he was certainly taking his time. The catapult had been loaded with dozens of eggs that rested on a thick piece of foam to keep them from breaking until they made their landing. Brad finally removed the safety pin and backed up with the release rope in his hands.
He looked around at his huge audience with a big grin before flamboyantly tugging the rope. A cheer erupted as the catapult launched its payload of rotten eggs to rain down on the bandit camp. It wouldn't kill anyone, but it would let them know what we thought about their attempt to take our home from us.
Most of the bandits had been sitting in or around the camp waiting for the leaders to come up with a plan that didn't involve dying. Many had looked over at the walls with suspicion as they heard the thunk sound followed by cheering, but they had not seen the small white objects against the light blue sky.
By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late for them to dive for cover. Most of the eggs missed, of course, but some had found their mark, which was now trying wipe off the foul smelling liquid. Every rotten egg began to assault the nose of anyone in the area or downwind.
I was quite impressed with Brad's aim. He had managed to hit the center of the camp on his first attempt. He ran over to climb up the wall to check how he did. He swiftly came back and started cranking the arm back down. He put the safety pin in and made a few tiny adjustments as others loaded yet more rotten eggs into the bucket.
I waited in anticipation as Brad removed the pin and backed up once again. Those near the catapult also pulled back for safety. With another flourish, the show-off yanked the rope. The second time the bandits heard that thunk, they dove for cover.
Trish shook her head and muttered to herself, "I have never heard of any war that was fought with rotten eggs. How exactly did I end up here again?"
I started giggling so hard that I rolled on my side, much to the amusement of those near me. Trish looked at me before she also started snickering. I eventually got myself under control and managed to sit back up.
I was just in time too, Brad was about to launch another load of foul smelling presents into the bandit camp. It looked like we had decided to launch some bags of rotten pickled stuff this time. I looked at the camp, but the men were no longer coming out of their hiding spots due to the barrage.
Thunk.
I cheered with everyone else. I grinned at the long plastic bags as they flew into the sky. They twisted in funny ways as they gained height. They also spread out more midair than the eggs had. Brad had somehow managed to account for that and they flopped down across most of the camp in a fairly even spread.
I peeked through the binoculars and every bag I spotted had burst. One poor guy had been trying to run from a tent to hide under a wagon and a bag hit him. The force made him fall, but it also caused the bag to burst open. I shuddered lightly as I saw his shirt was soaked with the putrid contents. I was very glad that it wasn't me in that camp.
A commotion made me lower my binoculars. The horses were freaking out with this latest assault, and several managed to uproot their tethers and took off running. This spurred other horses to try and flee as well. About fifty of them managed to get loose and bolt for the forest. I was sure that they would shortly be collected by the fired people in the forest and led to a makeshift pen in a forest clearing to add to our collection later.
Brad fired load after load until we ran out of ammunition. Almost everything that we launched now resided somewhere inside that large camp. There was no way that it could have smelled good either. I was very glad that the wind almost never blew from that direction.
I was actually tired from giggling and laughing so much. We had been launching things for just over an hour. For the first time since I had been fired, I felt like I needed a nap.
I yawned and looked at Trish, "I think I am going to go for a nap."
Trish looked surprised, then suddenly worried, "Are you feeling okay?"
I shrugged, "Just tired. I stayed up really late the last two nights."
Trish sighed in relief, "Oh, that is a relief. For a moment I was worried you were getting sick. I really don't want to try and explain to Diane how you managed to get sick during the couple of days I had to babysit you."
I giggled at Trish's reaction. Diane was pretty laid back, but she did have a fierce side hidden somewhere. I had seen glimpses of it occasionally. Apparently Trish had seen it as well, and had been worried that Diane might be upset with her if I got sick.
I shook my head, "I am fine, I just need a nap. Then we can play tag."
Trish groaned, "I really need to find someone with Heartfire for you to torment instead...."
I looked at her with big eyes and a grin, "But you were the one who volunteered to babysit me!"
Trish snorted, "Apparently I had either lost my mind or hadn't had enough coffee when I said that. I thought you said you were tired? I think I could do with a three or four hour nap."
I snickered. There was no way that I could sleep for three hours. She would be lucky if she got one hour of rest as I had a powernap. The Heartfire that ran in my blood ensured that any nap was a powernap.
She eyed me suspiciously, "And just what is so funny?"
I smiled innocently, "Nothing."
I knew very well how hard Trish slept once she fell asleep. This could be fun.