Count Vesna, fully accoutred, hurried over to Isak as he watched the troops moving with purpose and grim efficiency. Here and there a voice was raised in laughter, but most men were lost in cold deliberation. The fleeing commoners and the assault on Lomin had provoked a deep anger within the troops.
'My Lord, your charger is ready.' Vesna moved with the uncomfortable swing of a man in plate armour, but quickly enough for it to be obvious that the black-painted metal was enchanted. His hair, plaited, was wrapped around his neck, covering up the tattoos.
Isak's view of his horse was obscured by a knight draped in yellow and white who was gesticulating wildly at his page. Isak glanced at him as he stalked past and the man froze in mid-sentence.
White drapes hung down over the horse's armour, with Isak's dragon emblazoned on its flanks. A steel spike rose out through the cloth on its forehead. As Isak approached, the horse twitched a step towards him, pulling taut the reins held by the figure beside it. The horse tossed its head nervously.
A sudden sense of danger screamed in Isak's head, and a memory flashed up: his page was smaller. The figure holding the reins threw back its cloak and leapt forward, unfolding long limbs from a slender body. Isak blinked – and the figure had covered the ground between them, stabbing forwards as it moved. Unbidden, Eolis darted up to meet it as the figure hit Isak full in the chest and threw him off his feet. As his shoulders slammed into the ground, he kicked off, desperately feeling for solid ground underfoot. Distantly he felt blows slam into his stomach as his left hand grabbed a thin arm that squirmed with amazing strength.
Then the attacker broke away. Isak rolled on to his knees and threw himself left, sheer instinct, as two thin white spears stabbed into the ground where he'd been a heartbeat before. He hacked through one before hurling himself away again. An inhuman screech tore through the air and Isak felt a weight slam on to his back. Scarcely thinking, he flung his left arm up to protect his face and felt something score his vambrace instead of his throat.
He stabbed Eolis up over his shoulder and felt it grate on bone, then the weight was gone. He jumped to his feet and spun around, cutting up as he did so, but now his assailant kept just out of reach. For a moment he locked eyes with the creature. Mandible jaws on either side of its mouth twitched as it peered back at its intended prey. It stood on three legs; the fourth was shorn off and dripping black blood. More blood ran down from its right shoulder, but the arm ending in a bony blade was still ready to strike.
Before any of the watching knights could move to attack it, the creature leaped again, every limb swept back and ready. Isak slid away to his right, leaving Eolis in his wake to slash up as his attacker passed. He felt chitin split and the sword cut deep before his movement brought it out. He gave the creature no time to recover from the second cut, dropping down to kick away its legs. The savagery of the blow snapped something and brought Isak right around, Eolis already hacking at the figure on the floor before he had even focused on it. A second blow sheared through one of the bladed arms and a third stabbed straight down to impale the creature on the ground.
Isak staggered backwards, crashing into Vesna as he did so. He turned, raising his empty sword-arm for a moment before his senses returned. Behind him the figure thrashed and spasmed, but they were the movements of a dead thing.
'My Lord, are you hurt?' Vesna dropped his sword and grabbed at the huge white-eye as Isak lurched again. Finding his feet, Isak gripped his bondsman's shoulder and steadied himself. The surge of adrenalin blurred his sight for a moment, then his vision snapped back into focus. Isak found himself staring at the tattoo on the count's neck. Taut muscles distorted it into a bizarre shape.
Isak sucked in a huge gulp of air and felt his hand tremble as he replied, 'I- I think so.' Looking down at where the creature had been hitting him in the stomach, Isak could see only one tiny break in the armour, and that sealed up as he watched. 'Am I bleeding?'
'You-' Vesna stopped and looked Isak over. The attack had been so fast Vesna had hardly seen the blows, but apart from a deep groove on Isak's arm-guard where the creature had tried to cut his throat, there were no signs of damage. 'No, it doesn't seem to have pierced the armour anywhere.'
'What was it?'
Both men turned to look at the corpse. As they did so, a Ghost ran his lance down into its throat to make sure it was dead. When there was no further movement, the soldier pulled Eolis from the body and offered it over his arm to Isak. The Krann stared at it for a moment, surprised at the formality, but judging by the faces of every man there, they had been impressed with the fight.
That, my Lord,' supplied General Lahk from behind Isak, 'is an Estashanti warrior. It's one of the hybrid races bred by the Gods for the Great War, then discarded when their talents were surplus to requirements.' In the shock of the aftermath, Isak thought he detected an air of bitterness about the general's voice.
'It explains how the enemy managed to kill Duke Lomin. Buggers use them as assassins,' muttered Suzerain Fordan. As he gave the corpse a kick, a golden gorget fell away. The chain had been neatly severed. Isak felt a surge of magic leave the ruined object: that was how it had managed to get past all the guards.
'Gods, if it had got here yesterday… Without Siulents I'd have been gutted in that first attack. If we were not riding to battle this morning-'
'You'd be dead, my Lord. But before you offer thanks to the Gods, we do have another battle to fight. It can only harm our cause to let this delay us further.' General Lahk didn't wait for a reply as he turned to a herald at his side. The herald was several summers younger than Isak and the only one there in light armour. He had a large round shield on his back and a hunting horn in his hands. His job was to stay alive to sound orders for the troops. Isak could see puke on his clothes already – perhaps he'd been thinking about meeting a troll.
'Sound the order to move out,' Isak said, and mounted his horse, which was calm now the Estashanti was dead. Vesna handed him the cold, blank helm that Isak had dropped in the attack. A smear of mud marked the crest.
'My Lord?'
Isak turned to see the general raise his helm slightly. Looking around, he realised they were all watching him. He was leading this army, so tradition dictated the order come from him. Every boy of the tribe shouted the words out as they played; even those without friends felt the words in their heart.
Isak wheeled his horse around, held up his helm for all to see and called out as loud as he could, 'My Lords, we go to war – your
helms!'
Amid a great cheer Isak slid his own helm over his head and felt the lip of the collar meet his cuirass. At his side Vesna rammed home the golden wolf's head and slid the faceplate up to look at his liege lord. The count muttered a few words of shock that were lost in the cheers from all about. Isak didn't wait to hear any more. He spurred his charger ahead, through the rows of mounted Guardsmen, with war cries ringing all about.
CHAPTER 14
As the knights followed the path of the shallow river and reached the ridge, Isak noticed a scent on the wind he couldn't place. Winter had muted every flavour that reached him, and it came only when the breeze momentarily cleared the heavy musk of horse. Whether it was just too faint to recognise, or something new to him, Isak couldn't be sure. These parts were too remote to have been of any interest to a wagon-train. This area looked unspectacular, but still Isak wondered what he would miss as he passed through, how much he would never see of lands that would one day belong to him. Anvee itself was nothing more than a name at the moment, and that was just one suzerainty – what about when he became Lord of the Farlan?