He searched quickly for a mounted opponent that he could engage, in hopes of taking his mount, but there were none close by. A moment later, his horse wheezed and stumbled, then went down to its knees. Aedan had only an instant to dismount before the animal fell over, trapping him. He swung down out of the saddle just as the horse fell over with a gargling exhalation, thrashed its legs several times, and died. Holding his sword and shield, Aedan fought on foot, pressing forward against the tide of warriors trying to push him back.
He could not see Michael. He had lost the advantage of clear visibility and, on foot, he could see only those immediately around him. He ignored the soreness in his legs as he pressed forward, but kept being pushed back by the determined fighters in black armor. He fought despite the burning in his arms and shoulders, hacking with his blade at goblins, gnolls, and mercenaries alike. His shield was badly buckled from the force of all the blows it had taken, and his helm was dented on one side from a glancing blow that struck it and slid off the plate upon his shoulder. He felt blood trickling down past his left ear and did not know how serious the wound was. There was no time to heal it; all his efforts and attention were taken up by the task of trying to stay alive.
It seemed to him that they were losing. They were trying to fight their way back toward the center of the field, but they were slowly, inexorably being forced back against the cliffs. And then he spotted Michael.
The emperor was astride his horse, perhaps some twenty or twenty-five yards away, battling two mercenaries. And closing in upon him, moving relentlessly through the press of bodies, was Raesene.
Aedan fought like a man possessed in an attempt to reach him, but in the tangled melee, twenty yards was as good as twenty miles. He came face-to-face with a snarling gnoll brandishing a spear. As the wolflike creature lunged at him, he batted the spear aside with his sword and brought the blade up in a slashing motion across the creature’s face. The monster howled with pain and went down, clutching its ruined travesty of a face. When Aedan next glanced up, he saw that Michael had disposed of one of the mercenaries and was fighting the other. But Raesene was moving closer. There were only about ten yards between them now, and the Gorgon was steadily cutting his way through to reach him.
“Michael!” Aedan screamed. “Michael, look out!”
But Michael couldn’t hear him.
Grunting with the effort, Aedan hacked his way through the press of bodies around him, desperately trying to reach the emperor’s side. He was perhaps fifteen yards away now, but the Gorgon was much closer. The second mercenary fell then, his skull split by a powerful blow, and Michael spurred toward the Gorgon, each intent on reaching the other.
There were no other mounted men around them, no one to protect him. Aedan gasped as a strong blow smashed into his shield and buckled it completely, starting a split in the top that reached almost a third of the way through it. Aedan smashed the shield into his goblin opponent, charging him behind it, and he knocked the goblin off his feet. He brought his sword up and finished him, then turned to meet an ogre who was rushing at him. The lumbering, drooling beast was carrying a huge club with spikes in it, and Aedan knew if even one blow connected, it would finish him.
He hurled his ruined shield at the ogre, and as the brute flinched and tried to block it with its club, Aedan ran it through. Then, using both hands to swing his sword like a flail, he slashed around him in all directions as new opponents pressed in, desperately looking for a shield he could seize. He cut down several goblins and one gnoll, then came up against a human mercenary … with a shield large enough for him to wield. He smashed at the man, who took the blow upon his shield, and Aedan ludicrously hoped his blow had not been strong enough to damage it. He blocked the mercenary’s blow, taking it upon his sword, then launched a hard kick at the man’s groin. As the mercenary doubled over with a grunt, Aedan cut him down and wrenched his shield from him. Then he looked up, searching for Michael.
An instant later, he spotted him. He was locked in combat with the Gorgon, dwarfed by his opponent, and they were smashing away at one another with a fury. By the movements of his body, Aedan could see that Michael had loosed his divine wrath. His blood abilities allowed him to call upon great strength, as well, which made him an unstoppable juggernaut in battle, but the Gorgon was three times his size, massive and powerful, with a sword twice as large as his. Michael fought furiously, but Raesene was his match, and as Aedan fought to reach him, he saw that Michael was being steadily forced back by the rain of blows falling on his shield, smashing it into a twisted, buckled ruin.
Aedan cut down three more opponents in quick succession, plunging through the throng around him. He was about ten yards away now. He glanced up and saw that Michael’s shield was gone and he was swinging his sword with both hands, trying to batter his way through the Gorgon’s guard.
Then the unthinkable happened. Before Aedan’s disbelieving eyes, the Gorgon brought his sword down in a vicious blow that Michael took upon his sword … and his sword was snapped in two. The blow continued down and cleaved him right through the shoulder, severing his arm.
“NO!” screamed Aedan as he battered his way through to reach him.
But he knew it was too late. Blood was pouring from Michael’s wound, and Raesene’s next blow struck him from his saddle. Aedan charged his way through the bodies all around him and reached Michael just as the Gorgon dismounted and raised his mighty sword for the killing blow, and the blood-theft that would follow. In that instant, Michael struggled to his knees and reached out with his one remaining hand, placing his palm flat upon the ground. He jerked, convulsively, and bits of earth and rock erupted from the ground where he had placed his palm, grounding his powers, channeling them into the earth and denying Raesene the ultimate victory of bloodtheft.
With a howl of rage, the Gorgon brought his blade down and cut Michael in two.
Aedan went berserk. With a wild scream, he charged Raesene, slamming into him with all his might, but it was like hitting a stone wall. He bounced back and fell, shocked by the impact, and the Gorgon raised his blade to finish him. If he could not have the satisfaction of bloodtheft from the emperor, he would take what he could get from his lord high chamberlain.
The sword came down, but Aedan rolled at the last minute. It struck the ground beside him with such force that Aedan felt the impact. He struggled to get back up, but the Gorgon was already raising his blade again for the final blow. But it never came.
There was a fierce gust of wind, and a funnel cloud came down, enveloping him and spinning him around, causing him to lose his balance. A new sound filled the air, rising above the din of battle. The sound of wailing horns blowing in concert mingled with the shrill, high-pitched war cry of the elves.
As in the Battle of Mount Deismaar, they had arrived to join forces with the Anuireans at the key moment of the battle, when it seemed all was lost, and they pitched into the Gorgon’s troops with a frenzy. As Raesene struggled to rise to his satyr’s legs, the funnel cloud swirled away from him toward Aedan, enveloping him, and Aedan felt the dizzy, falling sensation he had felt once before as his corporeal body faded, transmuted into wind that raised him high into the air, above the battlefield.
Gylvain!
Sylvanna would never have forgiven me if I had let you die, the elf responded.
You should have left me. Michael’s dead. The Gorgon killed him. All is lost. I should have died with him.
All is never lost, the elven mage replied. And you must live. It is on you now to assume the regency and hold the empire together. You must salvage what you can from this defeat and build anew. You must live, Aedan, for your wife and for your children, for your friends who love you and for the people who will need you. I share your grief and sorrow and regret that we did not arrive in time. But life goes on. It must. Even if it hurts.