Howling for blood, makrasha charged down the slope in a dark wave. Behind them came three shadeleeches.
“Bout time,” Jerrik said with a grin.
“A wager,” Drystan said. “Man with the most kills gets the first shot at the next halimaw.”
“Done!”
While the beasts were yet fifty yards away, a huge slab of masonry that had been part of the keep lumbered up into the air and hurtled down toward the men. The makrasha fired their small crossbows, and some unseen power drove the bolts at twice their normal speed. At the same time, fire erupted into life out of thin air all around the force of humans.
Kevlin started in surprise, but the amulet absorbed the magic, trickling a little bit of power into him as fire licked at his clothes. Around him, people beat at the flames and shouted curses.
Then the fire disappeared. The flames lasted no more than a heartbeat. All down the line, soldiers cast grateful glances at Harafin for saving them from the near-broiling.
The wave of onrushing crossbow bolts struck an invisible wall and deflected away. The heavy stone falling toward the company tumbled to one side, barely missing the last man.
“These three are good. They work together better than most shadeleeches.” Harafin let out an explosive breath, his face set in a mask of concentration. “It will take me a little time to defeat them.”
Leander hefted his hammer. “Maybe I’ll get to them first.” He threw the hammer, and it smashed a distant makrasha off its feet. “Charge!”
The old Pallian Stalwart spurred his horse toward the advancing horde.
Raising his sword, Kevlin added his own battle cry to the others, but he hung back a little, scanning the slope for any sign of Antigonus.
Nothing.
We have to get past these monsters.
Kevlin spurred his mount forward, focused on one of the beasts leaping toward him. His hand tingled with the rush of strength that always came at the onset of battle, and he shouted a second time.
The two lines collided with a resounding crash. Screams and curses mingled with clashing of steel and tumbling bodies as the two forces hacked at each other.
Kevlin stabbed and slashed with all his might, fighting monsters that stood as tall as he did astride his horse. They fought with brutal strength, and companions fell screaming, their bodies rent by the monsters’ savage blows.
But soldiers outnumbered makrasha, and the men were experienced fighters. They fought in four-man squads to bring down each monster, and slowly began driving the makrasha back up the hill.
As Kevlin fought, distant drums began beating in time with his heart.
The song of Savas.
I will not yield! He resisted the song and, amazingly, it faded.
I’m getting better at this.
Bolstered by the success, Kevlin pressed ahead to help a squad fighting a particularly huge makrasha.
# # #
Drystan and Jerrik fought on either side of Leander, and around them makrasha fell in heaps, slashed by precision strikes of Drystan’s spear or torn by jagged wounds from Jerrik’s axe.
The two could barely keep up.
Leander plowed into ranks of the makrasha, his hammer trailing blue sparks as he smashed them down. With single-minded intensity, he pounded through the ranks, roaring a continuous battle cry and closing inexorably on the shadeleeches.
Motivated by his example, the soldiers redoubled their efforts. The coppery stink of blood mingled with the stench of death and exposed entrails in a reeking cloud. Shouts and high-pitched wails punctuated the constant ringing of steel, assaulting the ear and drowning out all speech.
# # #
Harafin sat his horse, unmoving, focused on the three shadeleeches, fighting to deflect their spells. Magic arced above the combatants in white-hot bolts and black clouds, coloring everything in shifting hues of light and giving the battlefield the surreal air of a nightmare.
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The battle was draining his reserves at an alarming rate.
# # #
Ceren fought to hold down the bile threatening to spew from her stomach, and to shut out the terrible sights and sounds of pitched battle. Beside her, a soldier fell screaming, his armor rent and his body pierced.
The makrasha that killed him barreled past the rest of the squad and lunged at Ceren. A second beast pushed into the gap and launched itself at the soldiers. They would not be able to save her.
Panic set her hand shaking, and the sight of the huge beast nearly made her scream.
I can do this!
She slashed at its face, and her sword sliced across two of its eyes. It shrieked in pain, and battle rage swept aside her fear.
Spurring her mount forward, she slashed again. The monster caught her sword on one armored forearm, and the shock of the blow rattled her.
It was so close, its heavy, musky scent clung to her mouth. Before she could strike again, it grabbed her with its hengaruk.
She screamed and hacked at the monster’s head as its disgusting stubby fingers clawed at her waist through her chainmail, trying to gain purchase. It beat her sword aside and drove one heavy fist into the side of Ceren's head, knocking her from the saddle.
She slammed into the ground, the impact jarring her teeth and jingling the unfamiliar bulk of mail that dragged at her shoulders. Her head rang from the blow, and her sword caught under her. Before she could pull it free, the makrasha lunged, its poisoned fangs snapping for her throat.
# # #
“Ceren!” Kevlin yelled.
He’d seen her fall, and watched in horror as the makrasha lunged toward her fallen form. He couldn’t turn his mount against the press of soldiers.
Rising to a crouch in the saddle, he leaped off, and ran across the backs of two horses to reach hers.
Ceren screamed as the beast’s jaws opened wide around her throat. She struggled to bring her sword around, but it was pinned underneath her.
It was all happening too fast.
The monster’s jaws snapped shut.
# # #
Ceren gagged at the makrasha’s fetid breath. Its wicked fangs quivered half an inch from her exposed throat. She stared into its gaping maw and knew she was going to die.
The monster growled and sawed its deadly teeth back and forth, as if some invisible barrier prevented it from reaching her soft flesh. She recoiled against the ground, unable to escape.
Angered by its inability to kill her, the makrasha reared back and raised a sword. Ceren was so shocked that she didn’t seize the chance to roll away.
Then someone crashed into the beast, and the two tumbled to the ground. The pair of them rolled over each other, stabbing and growling in animal fury.
Shaking off her stupor, Ceren surged to her knees and plunged her blade into the monster’s back. It convulsed, and her rescuer slashed its throat.
“Kevlin!” she cried when she saw who it was.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” She stared into his hazel eyes and whispered, “I should be dead.” She fought the sobs that threatened to burst forth and make her look the fool.
I will not be weak. He will not see me cry. Why doesn’t he hold me?
Then Indira dropped to her knees and threw her arms around Ceren's shoulders. Ceren returned the embrace as powerful emotions overwhelmed her.
I did it. I really fought that monster.
“I did it,” Indira said, echoing her thoughts. “I knew I could do it.”
“You?”
Indira grinned. “I told you how I thought I could, and it worked.” She pulled Ceren to her feet. “Come.”
“Well done,” Kevlin said to Indira, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Indira hugged Kevlin tight. Then she flushed and retreated.
Ceren pulled her from the battle frenzy, fighting down a flash of irritation that Indira dared hug him, while she had hesitated. Adalia joined them, arrow nocked and bow half-drawn, her eyes locked on the fighting.
"Glad yer safe," said the diminutive archer. "Ye be brave ta fight them brutes close up.” She drew her bow and released the arrow in a single, fluid motion.
Ceren turned to see the shaft punch through the eye of a makrasha that had been gripping a soldier in its hengaruk. She trembled to think how close she had come to dying.
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to Indira. “You saved my life.”
“You are welcome.” The healer pointed toward the bridge where the king’s forces were driving the makrasha back. “Come help me. There will be many wounded.”
# # #
Kevlin waited until the three women were safely away. His heart still pounded with fear at how close Ceren had come to dying. He cared for the fiery noblewoman. Not many women he knew would have tried to take part in such a battle.
Chayah would have. He pushed thoughts of that betrayer out of his mind and considered how Indira had saved Ceren. There was more than one kind of strength.
Before rejoining the fighting, he paused to study what he could of the plateau at the base of the keep’s wall. The fighting still raged, although it looked like the enemy was pushing through the breach. By the time Kevlin's company fought through, Tanathos would have won.
A flash of white caught his eye, and he squinted, still unable to make it out. He grabbed a nearby soldier by the collar and handed him the reins of a couple of horses. “Hold them steady.”
Kevlin climbed up and stood on the animals’ backs, focusing on the spot he’d seen the flash.
A bear?
It looked like a bear in a cage, and his heart sank. Shadeleeches made halimaw from bears. Beside the bear lay a figure in white.
Antigonus. It had to be.
The sentinel was so close. Kevlin just needed a little more time. He spotted a narrow path leading off the road, barely a rut where water ran across the mountain, but it led in the right direction along the edge of the steep slope.
Kevlin jumped down and headed for the path, leaving the fighting behind. Moving as fast as he dared, he edged out over the steep slope until he judged he was positioned directly below Antigonus.
It looked like only a few makrasha guarded Antigonus. If he could get the rock into the hands of its bearer, Antigonus could do the rest. Kevlin would need to hold off the makrasha until Antigonus triggered Tia Khoa’s power.
Regardless of the cost.
The slope was steep, but not as bad as the cliff he’d scaled to escape the fort. Kevlin sheathed his sword, reached for promising handholds, and began to climb.