She glanced back at the Shieldsworn’s uneven lines. The Icehammers and the Third Shield had managed to fall back from Rosestone relatively intact, but she’d lost a good third of Wester’s First Shield in the runehelms’ assault, and only a handful of Larken’s Second Shield had reached the rallying point after serving as rearguard for the rest of the army. Larken himself was missing-dead or captured, Kara supposed. Most of the five hundred or so soldiers left to her huddled under cloaks or their own shields, catching a little rest after their night of fighting.
A jingle of mail and a muttered oath in Dwarvish announced Kendurkkel Ironthane’s arrival. The dwarf clumped up the rounded jumble of rocks she stood on, surefooted in his heavy boots. His ever-present pipe glowed softly in the darkness, in spite of the rain. “They’ll be havin’ another go at us soon,” he said.
“So they will.” She stared down at the enemy companies forming up on the lower hillside. She could see better than most in darkness, and she could see how much the Shieldsworn had hurt the Council Guard. They’d even managed to destroy a dozen or so of the runehelms. But they’d been hurt worse, and the numbers favored Marstel’s army all the more now. “They’re going to storm the hill from several sides at once, and try to overwhelm us.”
“It’s no’ a bad plan,” Kendurkkel admitted.
In the earlier attacks Marstel’s captains had concentrated on a narrow, notchlike draw in the hill’s eastern face that formed a ramp to the hilltop, but the Shieldsworn had choked it with boulders and overturned wagons, and Kara had naturally concentrated her forces there. Now the threat of a general escalade forced her to spread her soldiers all around the edge of the hill. Kara doubted that she’d be able to stop Marstel this time. Her archers were almost out of arrows, and her soldiers had denuded the hilltop of any boulders small enough to lever over the bluff at the runehelms.
“Have ye any word from Laird Hulmaster?” the dwarf asked her quietly.
“Not yet,” Kara admitted. “I should have heard from him hours ago. I fear that something’s gone wrong.”
“What d’ye mean t’do if he’s failed?”
“Fight my way off this hilltop and draw back to Thentia until we find a way to deal with the wizard’s gray warriors.” Given time to reorganize and prepare, Kara thought she might be able to come up with a few ways to deal with the runehelms even if Geran failed to defeat them. But she knew that it was a thin hope she was clinging to. If she retreated from this place-assuming she could retreat, which was no certain thing-there would be no second campaign to liberate Hulburg, not unless another Moonsea power chose to involve itself in their troubles.
The dwarf nodded. “That might not be up to ye,” he observed. “Marstel’s got no reason t’ let ye go. Have ye given thought t’ requestin’ terms?”
“Yes, I’ve thought of requesting terms. My life is forfeit, of course, but I’d do it if I thought my Shieldsworn would be spared. Unfortunately, I don’t trust Marstel. I think he’d accept our surrender, and then execute every Hulburgan soldier who took up arms against him. It’s been done before.” She hesitated, and then added. “On the other hand, your Icehammers might be allowed to surrender. I can see if they’ll let you leave the field.”
“You might’ve forgotten, Lady Kara, but Marstel said no quarter, asked or given.”
“Mercenaries aren’t usually dealt with like that.”
“Aye, but as you said, I don’t trust Marstel or his captains. Besides, you’ve dealt fairly wi’ me and mine. It wouldn’t be right to leave ye now.”
“You’re becoming sentimental, Master Ironthane.”
“It’s good business t’ burnish a reputation for loyalty,” the dwarf said. “Unless, of course, it gets ye killed in a lost cause, in which case it’s no’ so good for business. I suppose I’m not yet convinced that your cause is lost. I’ve never seen a battlefield leader t’ equal ye, Lady Kara.”
She smiled grimly at him. “I wish I had just three more companies to match the Icehammers, Master Ironthane. I’d fear nothing from Phlan to Mulmaster.”
They stood in silence for a short while, watching as the soldiers below took their places. “Assumin’ we’re not all killed in the next half hour, how long d’ you mean to hold the hill?” the dwarf asked.
“As long as I can. Until I know that he’s failed, I still have hope that somehow Geran will succeed in his task,” Kara replied. “If he’s only been delayed, we might still-” She broke off suddenly, as the soldiers below gave a chorus of war cries and began to surge up the slopes, the runehelms leading the way. She shared one brief look with the dwarf captain, and called for her standard-bearer. “Sergeant Vossen! Pass the word to stand to!” All around her, the Shieldsworn companies stood up, shucking cloaks and hoods and strapping shields into place as they formed ranks at the top of the bluff.
“Good luck to ye,” Kendurkkel said. “I go!” He jogged off toward the Icehammers, who held the back side of the hill.
For her own part, Kara motioned for Vossen to follow and headed for the middle of Wester’s shield, which guarded the relatively low south face of the hill; the north face was too steep to climb, and Merrith Darosti’s shield blocked the draw. Sergeant Kolton and the House Guards joined her as she took up a place in the middle of Wester’s shield. There was no reserve left; this was the spot where the fight would be decided.
“Here we go again,” Wester said to her. The landowner-turned-captain was tired, and he moved with a bad limp from a wound to his left leg, but his eyes still flashed with pugnacious anger. “Haven’t they figured out we’re not going to let ourselves get pushed off this hill?”
“It seems not,” Kara answered. She motioned to Vossen. “All archers, fire at will! Don’t save your arrows now! And don’t waste any on the runehelms!”
The thrumming of bowstrings echoed through the damp night air, and once again arrows raked the Council Guard and their merchant sellsword allies. The range was close, and the enemy soldiers made excellent targets as they floundered and slipped up the hillside. Scores screamed and fell under the deadly barrage … but Shieldsworn fell as well, picked off the hilltop by the arbalesters in the Council Guard ranks. With a great, angry roar, Marstel’s soldiers reached the foot of the bluff in a ragged line.
Runehelms and Council Guards began climbing all around the perimeter of the hill. Shieldsworn met them at the edge of the bluff, hacking down the Council Guards as they struggled to find their footing and shoving runehelms off the slope with timbers and wagon axles. To Kara’s right, several more Shieldsworn managed to lever a large boulder over the edge. It missed the runehelm they’d been aiming for, but it bounded down through the ranks of Marstel’s soldiery. The waiting Shieldsworn raised a harsh shout of triumph as gaps opened up in the attacking ranks. Then all at once, scores of Marstel’s soldiers swarmed up and over the edge-there were simply too many for the Shieldsworn to stop them all. The runehelms who’d avoided being pushed off strode into the Shieldsworn ranks, their great halberds reaping a grisly harvest. Screams of pain and roars of anger rose above the ringing of steel on steel and the brutal sounds of halberd blades cleaving mail and flesh.
Drawing her saber, Kara joined the fray to lend a hand with the fearsome creatures. Shieldsworn hacked at the monsters’ limbs and ducked away from the whistling halberd blades, but the runehelms were terrifying in their power and resilience. Warriors exposing themselves even for an instant to cut at a knee or wrist were hacked down in blinding ripostes or sent flying through the air, broken and bleeding. Thanking the gods of war that they’d managed to delay at least a few of the monsters, Kara lunged close to the nearest and landed one shallow cut to the shoulder before backing away from a halberd blow that could have sheared off a leg. The instant the blade passed, Kara darted back in to strike at the same shoulder, deepening her cut. The silent black visor fixed on her, and the runehelm replied with a straight thrust of the halberd’s spear point. She deflected the point past her torso with a hasty parry, but the blow was so powerful that the flat top of the axe head drove her saber back against her and hammered her off her feet. The ranger gasped for air, her breath knocked out of her.