I meant to climb the berm but didn’t. I should have commanded from there, at least for a while, but Wrestler’s taunts still rang in my brain, and all I wanted was the chance to fight. I wouldn’t be a general who, from a place of safety, ordered men to die. And I had trophies of my own to take. Out sprang the Sword of Angels, to my lips came a curse, and I rode out screaming for the arrows to strike me. Like a heavy rain they fell, around me, pelting me, bouncing from my armor, and pounding on my helmet. Men cried and dropped about me. I galloped through them, willing the arrows to catch me, snapping them off as they pierced my bronze armor. I turned my face toward them, howling, and Chuluun picked up my wolf-cry. Soon a chorus of howls erupted from his Bogati, even as the arrows pounded them.
“Steady!” cried Marilius.
“Hold!” hollered Kiryk.
Sariyah thundered up behind me. “I am with you, Lukien! Let us ride!”
“Wait,” I said, then heard the drop of chains across the field. Another volley filled the sky. A few mercs with bows answered it. Diriel could have picked at us all day, but the sound of chains told me he wouldn’t. He set his dogs on us instead.
And then they came, heralded by the arrows, slobbering and grunting, their bodies welted and emaciated. Their heads looked enormous, nothing but jaws, their legs pumping as they scrambled toward us. I heard the horses whinny and the men gasp and the arrows land amongst us. I watched a dog sight me with his wild eyes and run to make a meal of me. Up went my sword, and my horse bolted toward it, ready when it leapt for me. I caught it easily in my left hand, my fingers closing instantly around its throat and crushing its windpipe.
I think I tossed it over my shoulder. I can’t even remember, it was so effortless. My body burned with Malator’s power, an overwhelming, magical inferno. And if the arrows cut me I didn’t know it. I felt nothing, least of all pain, just the enchanted strength of my patron Akari.
“Malator!” I cried. “Give me my vengeance! Today is my day!”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need words. He was me now. All around me snapped the dogs, pulling at my legs and climbing up my horse, who kicked and shattered their bones and carried me across the battlefield. Chuluun’s men broke formation, slicing at the dogs, while the Silver Dragons held their position, and Marilius’s mercs held back the worst, defending the poorly armed civilians behind them. Sariyah swung his axe, gutting one of the big, feral monsters and spraying me with its blood. I hacked and pulled them from me, slaughtering them, crushing them and wishing they were men. An arrow struck my head, bouncing off my helmet. Another felled a dog. But when I looked up again the sky had cleared, and my army gave a cheer.
Next were the conscripts. And this I didn’t want.
Shouting for my men to hold, I rode out with Sariyah to the front of our lines, through the dogfight and the Bogati. Up ahead, Diriel’s generals were urging their first wave of men onto the battlefield. Sariyah blanched as he looked at them, wondering where among them was his son. Kiryk rode out from the Dragons to join us. Lenhart and Jaracz followed.
“We’ll find him if we can,” I told Sariyah. “I remember what he looks like. We’ll get him out of here.”
Sariyah raised his axe. “Or I will die here with him.”
They were a terrible lot, those conscripts, those scores of enslaved. Hundreds of them in rags and broken armor, stolen from their own armies and homes and beaten into submission to fight for Diriel. They looked mindless now, stripped of their humanity, and I knew when I saw them my words hadn’t reached them. So I rode out to try again.
“Hear me!” I cried. “Join us! Asadel, hear me! Be free again!”
Far away on his chariot, Diriel gave his order. His generals echoed it, the whips behind the conscripts cracked, and that sorry horde of slaves came at us, running headlong into death.
“I don’t want this,” I told Sariyah. “They’re not Akyrens.”
Sariyah bumped his horse against mine. “Don’t lose this battle because of my son! They’re enemies now.”
“They didn’t kill Cricket,” I said. “Gods, I’m not a murderer!”
They were running straight for us, but Sariyah turned his back on them to shout at me. “They joined Diriel! They could have died with honor like my sons!”
“But Asadel-”
“Is dead, then! Now fight, Lukien! Fight!”
There was barely time to give the order. Already the Zurans were galloping forwarding, slicing past the dogs to meet their human foes. The conscripts came in a wave, screams tearing from their throats, the swords and hammers and spears held high. Kiryk held back his Silver Dragons as planned, but Marilius looked at me for my sign. Dread-filled, I gave it.
“Attack,” I cried half-heartedly. Then, under Sariyah’s stare, I shouted, “Attack!”
Marilius dropped his sword, and a hundred freelance horsemen charged. In moments they were around me, then past me toward the conscripts. I forced myself to join them, riding hard to catch up to Marilius. When the conscripts were just a few yards out, I raised my sword to defend myself.
On another day, the clash might have been even. In another world more just than mine, the conscripts would have been fed and willing and capable, but today they were neither, and I’ve seen infantry fall like they do. So easily, so quickly my horsemen trampled them. Like dead grass their bodies crumbled, their weapons barely glancing the mercenaries. I hurried into the fray, swooped over one of the men to grab up his collar, and lifted him off his feet like a child.
“Get to the rear!” I shouted at him. “Take safety with us!”
His eyes barely saw me. He tore at me, dropping his sword and using his fingernails instead. I shook him, then smashed the pommel of my sword against his cheek.
“Do you hear me?” I asked. “Go! Leave the field!”
I dropped him and he tumbled, and when I turned I saw Sariyah near me-but he wasn’t swinging his axe. He too searched the faces on the field, looking for Asadel. The horsemen stopped their charge, whirling to hack down the conscripts around them. A handful of unlucky ones were pulled from their mounts. Others saw my lead and stayed their hands, using their horses like plows to push the conscripts out of the way.
“To our lines!” I cried. That glimmer of an idea had given me hope. “Push them toward us!”
Some listened, others didn’t. I rode out to where Marilius was, pushing past the soldiers attacking me but refusing to cut my path. When I reached Marilius he had somehow been surrounded. He hacked down one of the conscripts, then another, then instinctively pushed back the others with his horse. One of the soldier-slaves dropped his sword, staring up at Marilius.
That’s when I knew we’d broken through.
“To the rear!” I yelled. “Gather your comrades and retreat to our lines. Let Diriel see you are free!”
The man did as asked, grabbing at everyone around him and shouting at them to lay down their weapons. Marilius broke away from his attackers and galloped out to circle his troops.
“Push them back!” he shouted. “Back to our lines!”
With a moment to breathe I glanced toward the Akyren lines. Dogs and conscripts still wrestled around me, but I knew Diriel’s first wave had failed. It was easy, and I took no joy in it. He still had hundreds of slaves left to throw at us, and not all of them would come to our side.
“Malator, remember Diriel,” I huffed.
I am watching him, the Akari replied.
Diriel wouldn’t leave the battle soon. Not until I turned the tide. But he would leave eventually, I was sure of it. His greed was too predictable.