The high-angle mortar shell didn’t strike the outer castle walls.
It plummeted through the low storm clouds in a steep, shrieking arc, carrying ninety pounds of explosive sulfur-paste packed inside a ribbed cast-iron casing. It struck the square timber roof of the inner command tower with a bone-shaking roar that blew the upper castle walls into flying dark rock splinters.
A fireball of oily yellow flame billowed through the tower’s lancet windows. Half a second later, the roof collapsed inward, forty tons of burning oak rafters and shattered roof slate crashing straight down through the ceiling of the commander’s quarters.
“Cole!” Ren shouted, coughing wildly as a choking wave of sulfur smoke rolled across the inner courtyard.
Ren sprinted down the stone steps from the curtain wall. His boots slid in the freezing slush, his ivory bone awl clutched tight in his fist. Behind him, Lord Ren vaulted over the ruined timber barricades in two massive strides. Meanwhile, Mira followed with her charcoal shawl pulled across her mouth and nose.
They reached the arched entrance of the command tower.
The oak door had been blown off its wrought-iron hinges, lying split in two amidst burning rubble. Inside, the room was an inferno of choking black smoke and glowing embers. Half of the second-story floor had fallen, pinning the heavy pine map table beneath an avalanche of scorched stone and smoldering crossbeams.
