The single hour was a frantic, desperate lifetime. The courtyard, once a place of community and craft, became a war machine. Avalon and Vanguard, their old enmity forgotten in the face of a common foe, merged into a single, determined force.
Rex, Marius, Kaelen, and Jean commandeered the gatehouse as a command post. Liana's maps of the surrounding terrain were spread across the table, now annotated with the positions of the Remnant's convoy.
"Their strength is their technology and their vehicles," Marius reported, pointing to the sketched trucks. "Their weakness is their arrogance. They believe their show of force is enough. They do not expect a real fight from 'savages'."
"The gate is their obvious target," Jean grunted, tapping the schematic of the main entrance. "But it is the strongest point. They will try to breach it with explosives or a ram."
"Let them," Rex said, a cold, strategic light in his eyes. He was in his element now, the planner, the tactician. "Kaelen. The oil?"
"We have three large cauldrons heating on the gatehouse battlements," she replied, her voice tight with grim satisfaction. "They get a warm welcome."
"Good. Their vehicles are their mobility. We take that away first." Rex looked at Marius. "Your best archers, combined with ours. We'll need volleys of fire arrows on my signal, aimed at the trucks' engines and fuel ports."
Marius nodded. "It can be done."
"What about the drones?" Kaelen asked, the memory of the mechanical buzz still fresh.
"We can't fight them in the air," Rex admitted. "But they are eyes, not teeth. We use misdirection. We show them a weak point." He pointed to a section of the wall that was lower and in need of repair—a place Liana had marked days ago. "We'll make a show of reinforcing it. Let them think we're panicking. They'll concentrate their assault there."
"And when they do?" Jean asked.
"That's when we spring the trap," Rex said. He detailed the plan: a feigned retreat from that section, drawing the Remnant's infantry into a killing zone between the inner and outer bailey walls, where they could be rained down upon from two sides.
It was a bold, dangerous plan that relied on the Remnant's contempt for them. It relied on perfect timing and the nerve of every man and woman on the walls.
As the final minutes of the hour ticked down, Rex made a final round. He found Elara in the bailey, her infirmary expanded into a sprawling field hospital. She was directing Vanguard and Avalon volunteers with the same calm authority.
"Are you ready?" he asked her.
She looked up, her eyes holding his. "We are. You just make sure you don't send me too many customers." Her bravery was a quiet anchor in the storm.
He found Liana not with her sketchbook, but with a satchel of crossbow bolts, helping to distribute them along the wall. She pressed one into his hand. Her touch was cold, but her gaze was steady. She had no words, but her faith was absolute.
He found Kaelen on the gatehouse battlement, standing by a bubbling cauldron of oil, the heat distorting the air around her. She looked like a vengeful spirit from a forgotten age.
"They will break on us," she said, not looking at him, her eyes on the distant convoy.
"They will," he agreed.
The amplified voice crackled to life once more. "YOUR TIME IS UP. SURRENDER OR BE SUBDUED."
Rex climbed to the parapet, in full view of the Remnant. He drew his longsword, the polished steel catching the grey light. He did not shout. He simply pointed the blade at the commander of the convoy, a figure standing beside the lead truck.
The answer was clear.
Avalon would not bow.
The first shot of the war was a high-velocity round from a Remnant sniper that sparked off the stone a foot from Rex's head. He didn't flinch.
He simply smiled.
"Let them come."