The trip all seemed to be taking too long. Ahead, the glow from the fires increased. The cacophony of battle rose on the wind-steel clashing against steel, screams of terror, groans of the wounded, and the ripped cries and gurgles of the dying.
Above those sounds rose something terrible.
Inhuman wails, howls and shrieks that scraped along Galiana’s skin. Despite the cold and the rain, sweat beaded her forehead. She knew those sounds. Hundreds of years spent from one battle to another had etched them into her mind, into her core. They were a part of her as surely as her thoughts.
Shadelings.
She burst from an alley out onto the main avenue of the sparsely housed western outskirts of Eldanhill. And into a scene from a nightmare.
Dead bodies littered the cobbles. Blood colored the water runoff, painted the street red, and pooled in any dip or crack, its cloying scent hanging in the air, adding to the stench of shadelings.
Highlighted against the backdrop of burning homes, wraithwolves and darkwraiths fought soldiers and civilians alike. Black blades or claws and fangs ripped into the unprepared and untrained civilians with ease. Desperate townsfolk preferred to run into the blazes of their homes, creating their own funeral pyres, rather than die to the shadelings.
Dagodin fought in small groups to stave off the attackers, boots splashing through bloody pools. Advancing among the shadelings were Sendethi soldiers, mounted and on foot, laying about them with shields and swords. With every kill, the wraithwolves put their cavernous maws to the storming sky and howled.
At first, Eldanhill’s soldiers faltered. On many a face, Galiana saw fear, the kind of raw fear that paralyzes a man.
But Stefan, Guthrie, Devan and many others had seen this sort of battle before. Undaunted, Stefan barked orders and his Generals obeyed.
Dagodin formed ranks among the chaos. Sword and spear gathered in ordered lines. Galiana recognized several of Eldanhill’s Weaponmasters at the forefront of each group and behind them, several rows of archers. Guthrie shouted an order and arrows loosed, struck true and made pincushions of shadeling and Sendethi alike. Pained howls and shrieks ensued.
The response of Eldanhill’s defenders stemmed the tide of the battle for the moment. The advancing army paused.
Wraithwolves and darkwraiths by the hundreds turned to the new threat. Green eyes glowed above elongated snouts and red eyes shone from within the black depths of smoky darkwraith hoods. How could there be so many? She and Stefan had made preparations, assuming but hoping against hope the shadelings hadn’t crossed the Vallum. But now, the proof lay before her, the stench from the wraithwolves holding dominion over the smell of burnt wood, cooked flesh, offal and blood. The shrieks, howls and wails from the shadelings drowned out the crackle of the blazes, the clash of weapons, the marching feet, and the cries and moans of the wounded and dying.
How did the shade breach the Vallum of Light? And without anyone’s knowledge?
Galiana didn’t spare another moment. She leaped from the back of her dartan. When she landed, she shouted, “Ashishin, dismount! Form ranks!”
She didn’t need to look behind her to know the other Ashishin had dismounted and formed an ordered line behind her according to their strength. As in the days of old, when the shade ran rampant, they did as she commanded.
The shadeling and Sendethi forces recovered from their momentary lapse. A command bellowed out. Swords and shields rose, pointed toward the Eldanhill lines. With howling screeches, the enemy charged.
“Hold!” Stefan yelled as his dartan swept up and down the Eldanhill ranks.
In front the other cohorts, Devan, Guthrie and the Weaponmasters stood, repeating the same command.
The rumble of a thousand feet and hundreds of shadeling cries drowned out the thunder that pealed in the heavens. Boots shifted uneasily. Eyes showed uncertainty. However, not one Eldanhill defender broke formation. Not one raised a hand to wipe away the rain running down their helmets onto their faces.
Galiana’s smile tipped imperceptibly at the edge of her mouth, and she waited. Stefan and the army became as still as a venomous snake just before it struck.
Goaded by their bloodlust, the wraithwolves bounded ahead of men and darkwraith, maws spread wide, white fangs gleaming. Driven by the need to sink their black blades into living flesh, the darkwraiths sped even faster like oily, black smoke blown by a fierce wind.
The first wraithwolves Blurred, and the darkwraiths followed their lead.
“Now!” Galiana yelled. She opened her Matersense and the other Ashishin did the same.
Shade lay in thick blankets around the Sendethi, wraithwolves, and darkwraiths. Galiana ignored the Sendethi for now. The shadelings posed the real threat. Picking out the telltale trails of the Blurs, she split her Forge into several hundred different strands, loosing light and fire essences. The strands flew like incandescent arrows. When they connected, the trails blazed.
At the same time, the Ashishin behind her took a hold of the storms above. They linked the lightning with Galiana’s Forging. Several others pulled fire essences from the flames around them and added those.
When the shadelings emerged from their Blurs, sheets of lightning and balls of fire greeted them. The blazing trails coalesced amongst the creatures with loud booms. The concussions from the blasts rocked the beasts and any nearby structures, blowing holes in limbs, wood and stone alike.
The carnage didn’t deter the remainder of the shadelings or the Sendethi. If anything, it incensed them. They surged forward, screaming curses, eyes aglow with hate. Unflinching, Galiana’s Ashishin continued to tear into the shadelings. Masses of acrid smoke billowed up into the air.
The black beasts that managed to reach the first wave of Dagodin were met by silversteel divya weapons. In unison, as if a part of a synchronized dance, spears stabbed. Any shadeling that cleared the spears were met by swords.
But the creatures moved with an uncanny speed many were unprepared for. Soldiers fought to find purchase on the slippery ground as they tried to fend off the attacks. Exploiting the weakness they didn’t share with Eldanhill’s defenders, the shadelings remained in perpetual motion. As many shadelings killed, twice the number in Dagodin and soldiers died, gutted by claws, throats ripped by fangs or sliced to shred by black blades. The darkwraiths moved like greasy death among the Eldanhill forces, side stepping attacks to slice into a soldier or Dagodin who was too slow to defend.
The Sendethi soldiers reached the Eldanhill lines, engaging with wild abandon.
“Single target attacks only,” Galiana yelled. She dared not use the same Forges this close to their own forces now. The results would be catastrophic for all.
Single firebolts or balls and streams of light shot forth from the Ashishin into individual targets. Each strike sent a shadeling or an enemy soldier crumpling to the ground. Galiana concentrated on helping the trainees and lightly garbed defenders.
Stefan, his Generals, and the Weaponmasters were at the forefront of the battle. They protected any small pockets the shadelings and Sendethi came close to overwhelming. Stefan’s sword darted and sliced faster than her eyes could follow as he danced between the enemy, taking arms or spilling guts with deadly efficiency.
A darkwraith flowed toward Stefan, and the graying man turned to meet the creature. His silver armor glinted with the flames, the green insignia on his breast standing out.