Black, Hydae-forged ebonsteel lashed out as the shadeling struck. Stefan parried the attack, his divya sword flashing up. Sparks cascaded into the air.
The darkwraith circled Stefan, its movements as quick and elusive as its sword rose and fell, stabbed and sliced. Stefan was a picture of concentration and calm. He slid between the attacks, parrying each with not much more than a step or a shift of his body. The darkwraith howled in frustration.
Attacking faster and faster, its black arms a blur, its iridescent black blade near invisible at times, the darkwraith drove forward. Stefan’s defensive speed increased to match.
Then, as if the creature wasn’t pushing him back, Stefan shifted his stance, positioning his front foot forward. At the same time, he stepped to the left. The darkwraith, still in all-out attack, couldn’t compensate. Its sword flashed by where Stefan’s body once was. Stefan’s sword swung above the blow and took the creature’s head. Stefan whirled around looking for his next target.
A roar and thundering boots on cobbles sounded behind Galiana. She turned to see the heart of the Eldanhill infantry led by old man Rohan, in golden armor chased with silver, charging between the homes and alleys. They joined the fray, beating back the attackers.
But the damage had been done. More than a third of the Dagodin lay dead or wounded.
A trumpet sounded from the dark out toward the open fields. The Sendethi stopped and turned to flee. A few of Eldanhill’s defenders gave chase before the Generals yelled for them to stay their ground. What remained of the shadelings were nothing more than piles of wet ash. By now, the rain had abated and the remaining fires petered out. Blackened frames and timber filled the spaces where homes once stood. The retreating soldiers ran or limped to meet the main Sendethi army gathering in the fields.
Groans and calls for help rose from the wounded. Dagodin strode out among the carnage while unseasoned defenders still stood in place, dazed. When the Dagodin found a wounded Sendethi, they put them down with a swift stroke to the neck. This brought on fits of retching by the novices and trainees. Others who held their composure helped wounded Eldanhill defenders to their feet. Calls came for carts to move those who couldn’t walk on their own.
“Ashishin, assist with mending,” Galiana ordered. She strode to meet with Stefan and his Generals.
The former Knight Commander drew them aside, the concern in his eyes plain for all to see. “How in Ilumni’s name have shadelings managed to breach the Vallum?” Blood splatter dotted his filigreed silver armor.
Shrugs and dumbfounded looks on faces dripping water and sweat were the answers he received. Brows wrinkled with worry and anxious gazes turned to Galiana.
Just as baffled as they were, Galiana shook her head. “I have no idea myself. There is no mention in history of them being able to cross the kind of wards built into the Vallum. My other worry is if they can cross the Vallum, why not come in greater numbers?” Galiana's brow wrinkled as another thought struck her. “Where is the daemon that must have created the darkwraiths? Can they too cross the Vallum? If they can, why allow the shadelings to attack without guidance? The fight was too easy. Not once did they try to come after us.”
Guthrie whispered a prayer to Ilumni. A few others touched fingers to their lips, then their foreheads and their hearts in their own reverence to the god of Streams.
As if in answer, trumpets blared from the Sendethi army in a long bray. Wails, howls and screeches answered from somewhere within the Greenleaf Forest’s darkened interior.
A flood of black-furred bodies, forms that moved with the fluidity of smoke, and those covered in dark armor, spilled from the Greenleaf. At their head, on a large dartan, rode a figure silhouetted in shadow and swathed in the blackest armor Galiana had ever seen. It was as if all light shrunk away from the man. A huge sword stood out at his hip.
“I guess we have our answer,” Stefan said, his hand on his sword hilt. “Dagodin, Ashishin! Form ranks! We won’t be easy meat.” His voice boomed with unnatural power. “Shin Galiana, you remember during the Shadowbearer War when you sent signals by shooting those great balls of fire into the air?”
Galiana raised an eyebrow. Why would he require such a thing now? She nodded.
Stefan’s emerald eyes were cold steel. “On my order, spring the traps. At the same time have several of yours shoot three fireballs as big as they can make as far into the sky as they can. Whatever happens after that, do not attack the Dosteri.”
Dosteri? Galiana opened her mouth, but another blare from the trumpet stopped her question.
Across the field, the black armored man whipped his dartan into a gallop. The shadelings charged with him. Behind them, the Sendethi followed suit, the earth shaking as thirty thousand Sendethi feet and hooves thundered.
“Go, now,” Stefan commanded.
“May Ilumni help us,” Galiana prayed. She ran back to meet her Ashishin who were scrambling to form up once more and pointed to the five closest. “When we spring the trap, launch three of the largest fireballs you can Forge into the sky.”
“Yes, High Shin,” they replied as one.
Over the din of the oncoming forces and the storming weather, Stefan’s voice rose, clear and deep. “Ashishin, ready.”
Galiana linked with the other Ashishin. For this, they would need her complete guidance. She reached through the ground, gathering essences of the Forms. Earth and metal stood most prominent, mixed in with the Flows of rainwater. She felt for the weaknesses out in the fields that she’d painstakingly Forged over the last few days. The Forgings of the other Ashishin followed hers. They’d taught these exact skills to manipulate Mater for years now. It came as second nature.
When her power touched the thirty pillars she’d Forged to give the ground the impression of solidity, Galiana paused. She waited for the others to grasp the supports as she did. Then with a squeeze of her mind, she used the Forms to crush the pillars of earth.
A chasm several hundred feet wide and a hundred feet deep opened up beneath the onrushing army. The hole swallowed those too slow to react. Cries and wails of triumph and bloodlust abruptly changed into panicked screams.
Orange light bloomed, illuminating the carnage within Eldanhill and the roiling mass of shadelings and men trapped on the chasm’s far side. Three fireballs the size of wagons sailed into the sky, before arching down toward the rent in the earth. They passed below the lip and a loud thump followed. More screams rose. Flame tongues licked hungrily from the lips of the chasm.
The majority of the shadelings either Blurred to the top or across the trench. The earth opening up had missed their leader altogether. The man came on undaunted, cloak flying behind him, the fiery backdrop highlighting his charge like a god out of a storybook.
From the north rose a roar as if from several thousand throats-loud, barking grunts, growls and men’s battle cries. Galiana’s head whipped around.
Across the field, on the Eldanhill side of the crevasse, rumbled several thousand white-furred beasts. Some were smaller than the wraithwolves. Others were larger still. Along most backs rose dagger-like ridges made of bone. Galiana’s eyes widened. She’d never before seen so many daggerpaws and mountain wolves. Big men, wearing mostly fur and leathers rode several of the beasts. Charging behind them came at least a legion’s worth of soldiers in blue and gold armor. A battle standard of a wall with a shield and a sword in front of it flew high in the air-the Guardian Wall-the Dosteri insignia.
Galiana inhaled sharply. How had Stefan managed to bring together both the mountain tribes and the Dosteri? How had he managed to convince the Dosteri to fight for Eldanhill in the first place?
“In the name of Ilumni, the shade shall fall,” yelled Stefan. He charged toward the oncoming shadelings and their black armored leader.