Arlen hustled up out of his pit, dodged an arrow, and glanced back over one shoulder. A few troops were just now hitting the beach. He struck with an unexpected thrown stone but there was no more time. He drew his gun and stepped back, buying seconds. His crude armor was already tiring him out.

Voz dashed toward him and yanked a wave up from the sea. Shouting more in fear than anger, he crashed it onto the five enemies, hard enough to stagger two and knock the rest down.

Good enough. Arlen raised one hand and speared his foes while they couldn't dodge. Gouged, bleeding, one run through, another with a spike in his arm. The other troops had to be seeing that. They had to know they'd lose. He shouted, "Accept High Chief Voz!"

Voz didn't appreciate having attention right now. He dived into the unfinished pit, saying, "Cover it!"

Arlen couldn't blame him. They were still on an open beach with an army in the woods and town in front of them. Arlen joined Voz and strengthened the defense. The enemy were holding back. Good. Because now the Free Islands men were on shore and finally coming to join them.

Arrows flew over Arlen's head. Voz raised his hands and water blasted upward in a spray that disrupted some of the shots. So now the problem was that Thoko's forces still outnumbered his, and the man wasn't stupid enough to keep bringing them out to die.

Arlen stood up and pointed with his gun. "Thoko, I challenge you! We shouldn't let our fight kill others, right? Come, Thoko! Fight me!"

He was gambling, but if even a thin iron grate could block those shots, the magic of the Black Arrows was only in their unerring aim. The question was how to make Thoko waste his last shot and not pick off Voz. Arlen had his own special weapon besides magic, but he couldn't count on piercing iron with either.

Arlen slapped the stone barrier in front of him and molded a chunk of it into an iron pot helmet, which he handed it to the shaman. Voz looked at it in confusion but put it on. The Opaline chief was coming up now, using the little barricade as a focal point. "What now? Thoko's not coming."

"I need to provoke him. Voz?"

With help from Voz's wind spells, Arlen bellowed loud challenges and insults. "Thoko is a coward who sends other people's children to die fighting ghosts. He lets the Mirefolk play wherever they like. He carries that big, heavy hammer but his real might is dagger-size. Thoko, when you ran away from the monster I killed on Gull Crater, did you flee before the other chiefs died? Did you trip them, maybe?" And worse.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Unfortunately, Thoko was a visionary modern leader, of the kind who knew not to stand in the front row. He allowed duels, but Arlen could damage the man's reptuation only so much.

Another volley of arrows answered him, aimed at the troops. The Free Islands men shot back and overlapped their shields from a tight formation, but being out here left them at a disadvantage. Some men were down already. Arlen said, "Stay together, like we practiced! Follow me!"

He headed for the coastal buildings with a tight mass of soldiers who could fend off most of any arrow barrage. He had a few men light torches and start destroying the capital city, such as it was. Methodically burning each building. A man ran at them with a knife and got cut down. Two frightened women held each other in the next hut, and Arlen yelled at them to get out. They fled. Valuable pelts and jars were in the next house; he had the men drag that stuff outside.

A rock glanced off his helmet. Arlen look up and found a boy throwing stones from a roof. "Run, kid. Men, keep burning."

"This is my house!"

"Your chief's a bad man. Run!"

"You're bad!" Another stone struck one of his troops.

Arlen's army was torching other buildings but was genuinely being delayed by a random kid. "Voz, you still there? Grab him."

The vizier's ears lay back in shame. He'd been hanging back, trying to keep behind others' shields. Now he scrambled up with the help of a wave he conjured from nowhere, captured the struggling boy, and let him go with a scolding.

Meanwhile Arlen continued methodically destroying the town. The soldiers shoved the kid aside until he ran off shouting threats. Arlen said, "Fetch Thoko!"

Voz said, "Is Thoko really going to let you keep doing this?"

To his credit, the enemy chief attacked well before Arlen threatened his palace. A few soldiers keeping watch called out just as Thoko descended from a ridge at the head of hundreds of angry men.

There was a horde. Arms' width apart but jumbled, variously armed, shouting a hundred different war cries. Arrows flew over their heads but most archers were running to close in for their own glory too. The ground shook with the army's charge.

Arlen made the shaking far worse. The land erupted beneath them so that the army was running downhill into spikes. Sending so many attackers to pounce on the invaders from uphill was normally wise, but now it was desperate. His focus shifted enough to strike in one spot and another, sometimes a line. Warriors leaped and crashed, banged into each other, hesitated, and sometimes got knocked into danger by their fellows. In a few seconds of screaming a hundred men shed blood. More of them tumbled, dropped weapons and shields, got trampled, paused in fright or prudence.

More got through. Arlen's side didn't have a proper formation right now either, but they put the blazing buildings between them and the foe. Arlen shouted orders and kept up his magical assault.

A blur shot toward his face. Arlen threw up his arm. Something thunked against him right where the slit in his helmet was -- but his arm had caught it. He dared to hope. He moved his arm, saw an arrow -- and the second one flew. This one struck him in the chest. He turned aside enough to peek down. There! The last Black Arrow had hit him! He turned back to the battle.

A third arrow whipped around and over a building to plunge down at his head.