The second explosion swallowed the night air, echoing over the rooftops of the Burgundian capital.
Lord Odo didn't wait to figure out what the noise was... the Frankish commander was utterly broken.
He pulled the reins of his warhorse, his eyes wide with panic as he stared at the trenches the cannonballs had just carved through his elite vanguard.
"Retreat!" Odo screamed, "Run! Fall back before they fire again!"
The surviving Frankish knights abandoned their lances and dropped their shields into the mud.
They kicked their spurs into their horses, fleeing back into the mist. The great Frankish charge was running away with their tails tucked firmly between their legs.
King Rudolf ignored the retreating Franks. He spun around on the battlements, he looked back over the rooftops of his city, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Where the fucking hell did that sound come from?!" Rudolf yelled, grabbing his son Conrad by the shoulders.
Hakon dropped his smoking match cord.
