… until a thunderous roar broke the quiet, a bellow so loud that Isak recoiled from the sheer force of the sound, scrambling to his feet to face this new monster. As he did, a huge head snapped forward towards him. Isak ducked, dropping down to one knee, and heard the terrifying crunch of huge jaws. He got to his feet and as the dragon raised its head and shook the troll in its mouth before tearing it in two, he recognised Genedel.
The deceptive shadows of its underground lair had not fully prepared Isak for what now lay before him: a long serpentine body covered in shimmering, near-translucent scales, a glittering kaleidoscope of magic and light that married a shocking beauty to awesome, lethal power. The dragon's speed was phenomenal as it ripped into the trolls, biting, spearing with its horns, raking with wicked talons and chopping left and right with its axe-like tail.
Even the tough hides of the trolls were no match for this dazzling storm of claws, horns and teeth, and at that moment, Isak recognised the vision in Aryn Bwr's mind when he shaped Siulents. This was the image he wanted others to see.
From a saddle on the dragon's back slid the Lord of the Farlan, as graceful as a dancer moving through familiar steps, before the crackling edge of his sword sliced through the bodies around him. On his head was an old crested helm that Isak had never seen before, but that was far from the greatest difference. Lord Bahl moved without hesitation, blending magic and devastating strength with a skill that -Made Isak shiver at the enormous gulf between them.
Bahl struck and drew back, struck again as a grey barrier appeared to deflect a swinging fist. Another kicked out and Bahl simply stepped up sideways, turning his body horizontal in the air before pushing off the chest of another troll and launching himself through the body of the one that had kicked at him. Isak gasped as he felt the massive burst of magic from Bahl's enchanted armour. The Lord's body seemed to fade into insubstantiality as it passed through the troll, only to return to normal as Bahl turned to hack into its spine. He spun in the air as another reached for him, stepped up on to a dead body and
grabbed the next with his free hand, swinging his blade around to slash the troll's throat.
Under such an assault, and penned in on three sides by the heartened knights, the trolls could face no more. Growls of panic and fear rang out on all sides as they turned, like a startled herd of bison, and fled the field. Those few who lingered in confusion were mown down by the rejuvenated soldiers. Genedel gave a triumphant bellow. With one great beat of its wings it took to the air, spitting gouts of flame down on the fleeing creatures, while the Ghosts cheered the dragon on.
'General, enemy to your rear,' shouted Bahl as he stood on a grey corpse and scanned the field. 'Our infantry are not close enough; we'll be boxed in.'
'Herald,' cried the general. Isak followed the voice to see the general, battered and bloody, with his herald cowering behind him. The general pushed up his visor and pulled the boy round to face him. 'Sound infantry advance to flank.'
The herald coughed and scrabbled to bring his horn to his lips, but he could find no breath to produce a sound. General Lahk, losing patience, grabbed the horn from his hands and sounded the five quick notes then, thrusting it back at the herald, scowled and ran to his Lord's side. To the right, Sir Cerse raised his battle-axe, pointing off to the left of where the trolls were fleeing.
'Ghosts, form line east on me!' The order rang out loud and clear.
Isak joined Bahl and the general as they took in what they could of the battlefield.
The foot are holding, the enemy is too disorganised to break the line and the cavalry have prevented a flanking attack,' Bahl said. 'Isak, you did well there, but now trust your arm only. You've drawn on so much magic that any more could overwhelm you.'
Isak nodded, wincing slightly as he pushed against the armour over his ribs.
'Hurt?'
'Not badly enough to stop me.'
'Good. Find yourself a horse. We can finish this battle now, with luck.'
Already the Ghosts were in some sort of order. Duke Certinse was standing in his stirrups, his burning sword raised high as he called the Eastmen to him. Isak watched liveried hurscals and knights make for Suzerain Fordan as he did the same, shouting for the men of the Heartland. The regions were old forms of allegiance, a relic of the fractured realm Bahl had inherited. Isak had not realised until now that they had been preserved for the battlefield, but he recognised a quick way to regroup amid the chaos of combat.
'General Lahk, sound the infantry advance and take the Ghosts to their brothers,' Bahl ordered.
The general saluted crisply and turned without waiting to hear more. Before Bahl could speak again, the general was shouting for his troops to turn west. The infantry and knights of the Ghosts would carve an army in two to join their brothers. The delay while the soldiers reformed would be more than worthwhile.
'My Lords.' Isak looked up as Count Vesna approached, leading two horses. The man looked pristine, not a dent or scratch on his armour and hardly a fleck of dirt or blood on himself or his horse. Isak could smell the mud and gore on his own armour – if he hadn't seen Vesna ride into the mass of trolls himself, he'd have thought the man had never been near the battlefield.
Bahl nodded his thanks and took the reins from Vesna. He kept the bay in the black-and-white of the Palace Guard, his own colours, and offered the jet-black mare draped in yellow to Isak. The Krann struggled for a moment to get back into the saddle, his shield and damaged ribs hampering his efforts. He didn't bother asking after the owners of the horses.
'Lord Isak, your cloak… are you sure you can fight?'Vesna pointed at Isak's cloak. The once-pristine white cloth was now grey with dirt and soot, and burned away to the bottom of the dragon symbol. Below it, scorch marks were visible on the surface of Siulents.
‘I'll be fine,' he said, sounding more blase than he felt. 'Genedel's shadow made the Chalebrat pause. It could have killed me, but it hesitated.'
'Shadow?' interrupted Bahl. 'We came in too low to cast a shadow on you.'
Behind them a great voice rang out from the assembled Palace Guard. 'Meh Nartis!'
The three men turned to see the general raise a pair of battle-axes above his head as his soldiers took up their war-cry: The Hand of God, the Fire of the Storm, the Reapers of Men.
'Enemy advancing,' warned a voice from behind them. Bahl
snapped a look at Isak, then swung up into his saddle. 'This is not the time to discuss shadows,' Bahl said before raising his voice to a roar. 'Eastmen, Knights of the Heartland, to me!' His deep voice carried to both groups, and Certinse and Fordan immediately repeated the order. Isak was glad to see Duke Certinse had not hesitated to obey his Lord, however much of a traitor he might be.
Bahl sat in his saddle and waited for the men to catch them up – the Palace Guard moving through and around them had caused the knights to sit and let them pass. From his vantage point he could see two units of several thousand elves advancing towards them. To the left, the spearmen of Lomin were running up to make up the distance.
‘They're not close enough to protect our flank,' Bahl muttered to himself. 'Let the enemy come to us.'
Isak looked at the old lord and realised the thinking aloud was for his benefit. If he was ever to lead the Farlan, he needed to know about distances and lines of attack, and all manner of things that were difficult to leam except on the field of battle.
'So we need to slow them down or they'll swamp us with numbers.'