Chapter three
Of a few words to Kov TurkoThe main beam of the catapult lay on the ground, the massive arm of laminated wood smashed through in two separate places. The rest of the engine looked as though a maddened giant had jumped up and down on it with hobnailed boots.
Seg brought across a bronze helmet. The crown was dented into a recurve in the shape of a frog. If any poor devil had been wearing that at the time...
Swords were shattered, spears splintered, shields torn to shreds.
Annoying though this destruction of equipment might be — annoying! It was downright infuriating! — it meant nothing beside the distress caused by the casualties.
Many of the men had saved themselves by simply running flat out. The swods near the circumference of the frog storm had raced away to safety. Ma
