would cause little damage, for the tribesman’s waist was protected by thick muscle. But he had never before encountered a man with such strength.
The blow crushed his kidney and he keeled over from the pain, bracing his fall with his sword arm. He gritted his teeth through the pain and looked up to fend off the deadly axe man. But all he saw was the razor sharp edge of Graggis’s axe as it split his astonished expression in two.
The huge tribesman fell heavily to the ground. “I’ll take a pint of Annurien mead when you see me next,” Graggis said as he yanked his blade clear of the grisly mess.
Back at the infantry’s center, Kiln had become the point of a wedge of the small group of Finarthian infantry that had followed him into the enemy ranks. He let the undisciplined tribesmen break themselves on the wedge point, forcing them to the sides of the formation where more Finarthian warriors were there to meet them.
He stopped advancing and held the point as he fought one enemy after another. He knew that if he advanced too far the enemy would surround them and crush them. He put some faith in the Finarthian commanders and hoped that they would see the wedge and move in to support them.
Kiln spun and pivoted as his blades cut into the enemy warriors. No one could touch him as he moved effortlessly, killing any tribesman that neared him. Rorum and the others fought furiously next to him. Kiln’s very presence seemed to give the men new hope, and they fought on, well past the point where their sword arms and lungs should have given out.
Prince Baylin had never been more afraid. He couldn’t move as the deadly trio moved closer to him. The lead warrior spurred his black horse forward and the prince shifted his gaze to the horrible animal.
It was huge, a full pace bigger than any warhorse Baylin had ever seen, with a coat that was thick and covered with sweat. Its long black mane was tangled with knots, but it was the animal’s eyes and mouth that made Prince Baylin realize that this was no ordinary horse. Glowing red eyes, like those of its master, peered out over a mouth that opened to expose long razor sharp teeth embedded in gums the color of congealed blood.
“Do you know what I am?” hissed the Banthra. The Banthra’s voice drifted towards the prince and danced around in his mind as he struggled against the magic that was paralyzing him.
Prince Baylin redirected his gaze to the warrior and used every ounce of inner strength to answer the demon. “You are a Banthra, a fallen cavalier corrupted by magic,” replied the prince as he swallowed the knot growing in his throat.
The Banthra hissed again and the big black horse shifted uneasily beneath him. “And you are Prince Baylin, next in line for the throne of Finarth, a position that you will not be filling.”
At that moment a dazzling white light burst forth from the fighting men behind the prince. Two huge horses parted the milling mass of warriors, completely washing the area with a light that shone with the brilliance of the sun. The warhorses carried magnificent warriors wearing gleaming silver plate mail and glittering steel helms that hid their identity.
The Banthra hissed loudly as it shifted in the saddle. The demon’s horse growled menacingly and pranced backwards a few steps. The riders that flanked him also moved uneasily in their saddles, retreating several steps away from the light. These riders were dark clerics of the Forsworn and each wore similar armor and spiked helms, both cursed by the dark magic of the three evil gods.
Jonas and Taleen urged their horses forward as their light flared even brighter, sending rays of hope into the fighting men around them. Enemy warriors moved away, the light from the cavaliers frightening them into a panic. Finarthian soldiers around them looked up in awe as they gazed at the cavaliers. As the light washed over them, all fear and fatigue evaporated. They stood taller, gripping their weapons with new strength and confidence.
Jonas drew forth his second saber, not needing his hands to control his magnificent mount. Tulari took him directly towards the Banthra.
Taleen pulled back the string of her powerful bow and sighted the arrow as her horse approached the evil warriors without the slightest bounce. The ability to fire a bow from a riding horse was a skill reached by