The rampart finally failed sometime after midday. Fire had eaten through the timber facing until the charred beams could no longer bear their own weight, and the wall sagged into a mound of ash. Süke rode over the remains while thin ribbons of smoke still curled from the blackened posts on either side.
Behind him, the White Horde filed through the narrow breach one rider at a time. Once they reached the streets beyond, the column spread back into formation.
Yasa was the first to draw alongside him. His horse had barely finished climbing over the rubble before he started talking.
"Didn't even need the big gun for this one. Fire arrows and enough patience." He glanced back toward the smoking breach. "Better to save that monster for a wall that deserves it."
"Save your breath," Süke replied. "You'll need it before this day's over."
"I've got plenty left. Ask Arsu how much of mine he's listened to since Džuketau. It's all been about that arm."
"Don't start him."
Too late.
