An excerpt from a work in progress. I’ve been craving samosas since this morning, and it seems that craving made its way into my story! Mustard oil is used for frying samosas in India.
The gates boomed, splinters flying inward, shaking the cedar beams the defenders had set to brace them.
Orhan ventured to look down from an arrow slit atop the barbican, and saw the elephants being urged back for another charge. Two were left dead on the road, their bodies almost hidden by the spears and arrows stuck in them. The enemy was being profligate with his living battering rams, but he did have six hundred to spend. The bodies of many soldiers were also strewn on the ground, as the elephants now carried climbing teams as well. They'd been fighting them off the ramparts all morning.
"Ready the oil!" he ordered. "Make sure it's hot!"
"This is the last of the oil, Lord Orhan!" cried the officer in charge of it.
"Then make it count, Havildar! Let's fry some elephants!"
"This'll smell good, for once," the officer gave a bristling grin. "It's mustard oil. What we fry savories in." He looked over the wall to check if his targets were in range, then cried out, slumping in a heap. Orhan saw he had an arrow in the eye.